I feel it only fair to warn my loyal readers (aMToNW) that there are some aspects of human existence in which I have to declare a bias that might cause some of you to look elsewhere for the sort of advice that normally pours forth like a torrent from these pages.
Perusing the online Torygraph this morning, I see that one of the writers says that the sight of Stonehenge is the highlight of his annual journey to Devon, and opposes the building of a road tunnel in the area.
I just don’t get it. I drive by Stonehenge on my regular charitable visits to the underprivileged, uncultured and friendless in Devon, and my reaction to this historic monument is that it is just a bunch of rocks. I am not filled with wonder that these stones were dragged from Wales (by a man known as “Bert the half-wit” by his contemporaries) in the days before the railway network (and therefore made the journey in less than a year). I do not ponder for hours the significance of it, but I expect that future archaeologists will puzzle for hours why the previous owner of my house built a structure that looks like a well in order to hide a drain cover. They will probably deduce that it was an altar in some strange twentieth century religion, and there will be one day a year when future generations will assemble in North East Hampshire to commemorate this ancient wisdom, little realising that the true wisdom of the era was composed on a Dell 8300 not 30 feet away.
I just don’t get it. Once when I was in Rome, I had some time to spare and went to look at the Trevi fountain and the Vatican. Just a bunch of bricks. With some water in the former case. I felt no desire to queue to see what Michelangelo had done on the ceiling inside. When I was in Paris I did not go to the Louvre. I went to Notre Dame, and was underwhelmed. I just don’t get it. I have tried. I have visited the National Gallery in London. Totally unimpressed.
I have no desire to travel the world to look at stuff. Never seen nor want to see the Pyramids, the great wall of China, the grand canyon, Ayers rock, giant redwoods or the branch of Ikea on the north circular road.
If someone offered me the chance to view Goldie Hawn’s butt, then I would probably accept, but only if it didn’t clash with a Test match.
So, dear friends, if you want an opinion about how something looks or what colour to paint your house then you might be better asking the advice of someone who professes an interest in such matters.
And Pavlov, I don’t care.
25 comments:
When I was at my mother's house two weeks ago, I read her Telegraph, and came across said letter. Either they've published it twice, your computer is stuck in some kind of time-warp, or you wrote this post some time ago, and have only just got around to posting it (that's what I do).
what if there were naked arses at stonehenge, the grand canyon, the great wall, etc? or is it just ms. hawn's butt?
Dave, you should read the telegraph more often. The opinions are the same as they were 150 years ago. The news is the same each day. You know where you are with the telegraph. My reference was to a comment article rather than a letter, but it is all the same.
JRomer, there are usually naked arses at Stonehenge at midsummer, I am told. It is only an hour down the road from me, but I have not been to the arse exposing ceremony there since 1971. And no, it is not just Ms Hawn's butt, but she is somewhere near the top of the list. The cut off point is somewhere between her and Leon Brittan, but I would not want to be too precise. I hope that helps.
But by now isn't Ms. Hawn's butt almost as old as Stonehenge anyway? Perhaps you could form a charitable society for the preservation of Goldie Hawn's butt.
If you turned it into a religion you'd get all kinds of tax-free money, too. L. Ron was no eedjut.
Vicus, you are a yogi and that, I'm afraid, is that! When all around you is equal and Goldie's arse is on a par with the pyramids then you are truly nearing the end of your karmic cycle. Hopefully this means we won't have to put up with reading much more of this old bollocks for too many more lifetimes.
PS I'd take Goldie's arse any day.
Vicus,
This time I've beat you at your own game.
I was caught in the barbed wire that once surrounded Stonehenge when I was between the ages of 4 and 5 (circa 1966-1967).
Despite the experience, I wasn't branded with some pseudo-extra-sensory Chariot-of-the-gods pagan sensibility but a simple aversion to being caught in the wire.
This aversion has served me well in the ensuing four decades, since have not been a prisoner of war nor do I have a criminal record of note.
One small side effect: whenever I watch the odd rerun of Hogan's Heroes, I feel a small bit of sympathy for Robert Clery, what with him being confined with a pervert like Bob Crane.
You obviously haven't hugged the Cheesewring on Bodmin Moor. It's a life-changing experience. I couldn't stop mooing for days.
I feel the same way about David Bowie and Bob Dylan. (Don't get it, not they make me moo)
'Dave, you should read the telegraph more often. The opinions are the same as they were 150 years ago.'
There's some kind of contradiction there, isn't there? What's the point of reading more often if it's going to be exactly the same?
I do get a frisson of excitement viewing ancient monuments though. It's something about the connection with our past.
That's why I enjoy cricket.
Dave. Reinforcement.
Let's see what ruins or monuments have I seen? When I was 19 I saw the pyramids at Tenochtitlan, and several other Aztec ruins and colonial churches and stuff. I have to say that I got a real charge from these things. Never been to Europe or the Middle East but one day...
Raincoaster, quit the senior-bashing, some of us still have nice butts. And on the flip side, there are lots of young people whose butts I would like to avoid. N'est ce pas?
Signed: a 52-yr-old ruin in Miami
Depends on your point of view, Vicus. You live down the road from it, therefore it's nothing more than a bunch of rocks that draw traffic. Much the way I felt living next door to the University of Michigan football Stadium, back in the day. I often wondered the same, what would obsessive archeologists make of such a structure 10,000 years hence, when all it did was house a temple to an obscure, nonsensical game played by congenital idiots?
Good heavens, what if Stonehenge were the equivalent of McDonalds? The Druidic McDonalds. Puts a whole new meaning on "There's a little McDonalds in Everyone," doesn't it?
Jeez, I am out of it. That's kat.
Jack, please clarify. Did you believe that Felicity Kendall's arse was a wonder of the world or that the Eden Project was Felicity Kendall's arse? It behoves you to be more precise.
All of you, please provide references to the hindquarters of attractive and sophisticated women so that the perverts who trawl the search engines and arrive here will be of better quality than the current shower.
Bang goes my lovely recurring daydream of you and Tom skipping amongst the ancient stones, naked as the days you were born.
Ok - maybe I can still imagine Tom on his own, but I have trouble every time the sun gets behind his ear hair.
Stonehenge was a great place when it was just a bunch of rocks and anyone passing by could meander in for a look see, a clamber and a gratuitous engraving of one's name. The barbed wire so fondly remembered by FE surrounded the adjoining fields to keep the sheep in not the passers-by out. Sadly the gits at English Heritage, who will be first against the wall, come the revolution, like to prevent those sad enough to part with their hard earned cash even a close look, let alone cop a feel of ancient rock, but then how old is any stone you care to fondle? (The rolling ones are exempt in this case being too old to even carbon date)- I digress, and the point I was making was . . .? ? ? Sorry oops forgotten
So I guess you have no interest in visiting the hugely famous and popular Komarno mosquito in Manitoba (www.roadsideattractions.ca/mosquito.htm)
Or the wily gartner snake statue from the Narcisse area, or the world's largest Ukrainian easter egg in Vegreville, Alberta?
You lead a sheltered life.
What a hoot!
Is the white horse in Brandon still there?
Yes, I had a pint there the other day.
This, too, will get you seven years in a Canadian jail.
RC: Far's I know, the white horse is still in Brandon, there's still a goofy turtle statue in Turtle Mountain around Boissevain and while it's shrinking, there's still a desert near Carberry.
Whilst it may be a pile of rocks to you it is of deep significance to other people, not that I know any of them but I know which pubs they frequent around here. Just as I'm sure your wife thinks you have a deep significance to her life and another gal might think - 'oh, yeah, him' and of course, all stations in between. There is a danger in visiting something deep and meaningful, like the pyramids or, to some women, John Prescotts pants, in that you may be dissapointed in that 'is that it??' kinda way. Still, it wouldn't do for us all to be the same. Felicity Kendalls arse does nothing for me, yet I'm sure it could bring great joy to some of you. I admit, it is a well formed arse.
There must be a hole in the space time continuum...surely you are referring to Kate Hudson's tush.
Goldie Hawn was certainly the IT girl on Laugh-In but now her butt is about 3 days older than kerosene and her clone Kate is a carbon copy circa 1968.
I am certain that even Kurt Russell cannot tell the difference. Oh don't act so shocked!
Afterall, Groucho Marx said,
"You are only as old as the woman you feel"
HE. Be very careful.
What? I thought that the 90s were over.
I can't say that.
Sheesh.
I thought that the battle of the sexes was over. Wasn't it a draw anyway, I thought we were tied.
Perhaps you didn't see the octogenerian make out session between Warren Beatty and Goldie in the film Town and Country.
EEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!
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