Monday, August 25, 2008

[criminalization] innocent and guilty alike

This must be of great concern to every one of us.

Tom Paine once mentioned the 3000 new crimes under Blair. Now we have the criminalization of youth and not just them either. There is something wrong when you are turned in by someone and then prosecuted for putting a bottle in the wrong bin or waling in the cycle lane or whatever.

What is happening?

[bank holiday] blackberrying and soaking up the sun

Old gear donned, we headed down the canal in the steamy hot, balmy 20 degrees but I still kept my long sleeve winter sweat top on against the thorns, nettles and thistles which, seeing through this ploy, decided to attack the wrists and face instead.

Deep in shrubbery on the bank, plucking away at juicy berries, the scene sitting beside San Georgio on the curving steps under the hot Sicilian sun was beginning to fade. Oh to have Welshcakes here now, fearlessly charging into the brambles for us, [because all men are wimps, you know], picking the six tubs in far less time than our two and a half hours.

The cuppa cha afterwards was like the nectar of the gods. Plus the cheese sandwich. Piradina con formaggio is also sliding into the medium term memory.

[bank holiday] the long-suffering heroes return

The scene – the Olympic plane lands, the gangway is rolled over and the athletes are rudely torn from their bag collecting and last drinks to line up in formation, attractively arranged down the steps.

Fiona Fatwah [BBC]: Andrew and Sally, come over here please. Well, I’ve simply run out of superlatives. What can I say?

Andrew: Er … I don’t know.

Fiona [recovering her composure]: Well Sally, when you were about to step up onto that podium, how did you feel?

Sally: Awful. I never wanted that medal; I wanted the gold - I could have scratched her bitchy eyes out.

Fiona: Andrew, how did you feel when you won that gold?

Andrew: Sick in my stomach, Fiona. Never wanted that gold.

Fiona: How was the flight back? How would you describe it?

Sally: Ah, there were these three seats, you see and there was a stain on the antimacassar in front of me and I read the in flight magazine twice and had a g&t.

Andrew: Mine was a Carlings.

Fiona: Well guys, do you have a message for the teeming millions watching this because there’s nowt else to do this bank holiday Monday except extend the Olympic fix as long as we can through interviews like this?

Sally: Yes, Fiona – we’d just like to thank everyone and see you in 2012, guys.

[They rush for the team bus which takes off, the camera lovingly trained on the exhaust pipe disappearing round the corner.]

Fiona: And now we cross live to the team reception where Emma Hamilton is awaiting to ambush the luckless athletes.

Emma: And here comes the team bus now. Let me call over Andrew and Sally. Hi guys. Oh gosh, what can I say to you that hasn’t already been said a thousand times already?

Andrew: I have not the shadow of a clue.

Emma: How was the bus trip back from the aeroplane? How would you describe it?

Andrew: Sally, you do this.

Sally: Ah, there were these three seats, you see and there was a stain on Andrew’s uniform in front of me and I and couldn’t get a g&t.

Andrew: I couldn’t get a Carlings.

Emma: Well guys, do you have a message for the teeming millions watching this because there’s nowt else to do this bank holiday Monday except create a feel-good factor as a buffer against the cries of outrage at the £10 billion bill for 2012?

Andrew and Sally: Er … ah … [rush inside for the reception].

Emma [turning to the camera crew]: What did I say? What did I say?

Must I wear shades too?

Sunday, August 24, 2008

[need a shave] of metal seats, tube fights and blackberries





Some images above of first impressions.

Question- have you ever spent a night in an airport? Interesting experience, especially the way they do the slippery metal seats with metal armrests in such a way that you can't lie on them. The other guy with me found a way though- put the head on the table effect at the end, the neck under the first armrest and the waist under the second and so on.

There was a chapel in the airport, just as there is a Madonna in every shop and it was nice to spend some time in, that chapel, with it's cleverly backlit crucifixion scene at the front. On the right at the front was a plush velvet chair, presumably for the priest to sit on. When I came back later in the night, there was a shopping trolley in there with plastic bags of someone's worldly goods. In the priest seat was an unfortunate who'd ended up on the street and I thought - there but for the grace ... left a few coins and departed. Hope the airport authorities don't read this post.

I must have looked like a shady character as I got the shakedown on trying to check in and it was my first half-strip in public - hope the public enjoyed it but the paws all over the bod didn't endear it to me too much. The airline quite thoughtfully had provided copies of newspapers with the Madrid disaster plastered over them so that made good reading.

First experience this side was a helpful railway employee called Mark who not only suggested that if I went to the ticket machine round the corner there was no mile-long queue but then he stayed around to ask if I was "all right then" after that. Wish I'd taken his name and sent a letter to the authorities about him - he was exactly the image the railways need.

Of course this was counterbalanced. An old chap couldn't read the signs and was trying to get to the Victoria line so he asked me what it said and I said that I also had trouble with my eyes but I'd ask. As it happens, we were in the right place so we helped each other get to the right train just as it pulled in, which infuriated a nutter with wife and daughter standing in prime position to get on the train.

He threw a tantrum, shouting he was going to put me in hospital and then came at me while the old man looked on in disbelief. I told the nutter he was a f---- imbecile. " Something wrong with your brain, i'n there, eh?" I grinned at him, which seemed to infuriate him more and wife and daughter kept right out of the way. W-e-l-l, why do nutters keep coming at me? I mean ...

So he continued:

"Yeah, you!" he shouted. "Wot you calling me names for?"

"The stress, friend, the stress."

"You got no f----- manners," he shouted.

"Yes I have - I stepped back and let you on first, din I?"

"You wotchit, mate."

"Yeah, yeah, you 'ave a good day too, me china."

The old man had enjoyed this and now asked me if I was travelling to join a boat. "Pardon?" I asked.

"A boot like. Merchant navy. Anyway, they employ Filipinos these days."

"Ah." Turns out he was twenty years in the merchant navy and I thought to myself, that sounds like not a bad idea, really. Either that or become a Benedictine monk.

Still might too but first some blackberry picking tomorrow and another thing - why do councils insist on lopping them down when they're doing no one any harm? This is the sort of out-of-spite thing and then they send in teams of loppers who know nothing whatever about trees and things and they hack at them.

Reminds me up on the moorland some years back when some Dutch company got the right to hack swathes of heather for padding in dam walls in such a way that it could not regrow. Everyone knows that heather needs burning. Still, it was a nice little money spinner for someone.

And another thing- did you see the way McFly hacked up Winner Takes it All today but the version of We Can Be Heroes was pretty good. And what did you think of Jimmy Page and that girl, by the way? And how do you like the way Boris was standing, waving the flag?

I need my winter clothes, even though the ice cream van was out today.

More in the next few days.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Depending upon there being no problem with no passport...

Depending upon there being no problem with no passport...







Saturday Departures from London
24/05/08 to 13/12/08
London King's Cross 09:34 11:48 13:38 17:05 19:41
Grantham 10:44 12:48 14:44 18:10 20:43
Retford 11:06 13:14 15:10 18:31 21:05
Doncaster 11:24 13:27 15:25 18:48 21:20
Selby 11:40 13:43 15:41 19:08 21:36
Howden 11:50 13:53 15:51 19:18 21:46
Brough 12:03 14:05 16:03 19:30 21:58
Hull 12:20 14:22 16:20 19:47 22:15

http://trustedplaces.com/review/uk/hull/food/1a7c57/sicilian-takeaway

Sorry, no shower only bath...


UPDATE: Just received a phone call. The Eagle has landed at Gatwick and is crossing London heading for King's X, and should see him arrive in Hull at 19:47.

The Death of Ann Sadler: Murder by over enthusiastic Dancing

I have been as readers of my own blog can see, musing on the Old Bailey records this morning. Amongst those records one finds interesting cases- and one that I thought the readers of this blog might be interested in was a case of murder by over enthusiastic dancing: here it is
Simon Durrant , was Tryed for Killing Ann Sadler at Leather-sellers Hall , on the 9th of August last, by brusing, rowling and throwing down the said Sadler, of which she languished till the 3d of September and then dyed . The Proof was, that there being a Feast heald there that day and a Dancing Bout ensuing, whilst Durrant was Acting the Countryman, Ann Sadler came in to call her Mistresses Son from thence, when upon intimation Durrant caught hold of her and obliged her to Dance, which she did for almost a quarter of an hour, and then she being about to make her escape from him, he pursued her and puling her back by force threw her down, and tumbled with her over and over; so that being bruised thereby, she went home and sickned and languishing to the day aforesaid, dyed, to which he plaaded that her Dancing was with her own consent and as for the rest it was but a Frolick, and he intended no harm and bringing credible persons to testifie it, and that he laid her down very easily, and further, it appearing upon the Testimony of two Chirurgeons that she dyed not by any Bruise thereby occasioned, he was acquitted , as also upon the Coroners inquisition for Manslaughter.

What lies behind this record? It seems odd at first sight. Let me set up the situation in modern English- what Simon Durrant was accused of was grabbing this young girl, dancing with her, throwing her to the ground, tumbling over her and bruising her so much that she died. It sounds implausible and the two doctors who visited her agreed with my modern impression, that 'she dyed not by any bruise thereby occasioned'. One interpretation sees this case as emerging from something else: Ann Sadler died and her friends hung this charge around the neck of Simon Durrant. He seems to have been a lively young man- and perhaps one that people wanted to bring down, to hang a noose and a murder round his neck.

But look at it again and the evidence changes- its possible to see something there that we might describe as sexual assault- Simon Durrant's excuses are very much in that mould- I did it with her consent, it was just a bit of fun etc etc. That was obviously not the opinion of Ann Sadler's friends when they brought this case to the attention of the court, nor does it seem to be her opinion- she 'languished' for several days before dying. There may have been internal injuries- possibly a little more than a tumble in the hay- that seventeenth century post mortems could not find. Furthermore Sadler may well have faced depression from her ordeal- if we presume that what this account masks is a sexual assault- and that may have assisted her death.

We will never know. Both accounts make sense. A spurious charge invented by Simon Durrant's enemies or a sexual assault that the prejudice and ignorance of the time could not properly judge: its up to you to decide. The evidence is fragmentary and I hope this suggests one of the problems of being a historian, you have a fragment like this and you have to work out what happened from it. Sometimes it is uncertain and you just cannot know- this case is one of those.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

[this blog] brought up to date

Seem to write this type of thing every few days but this weekend, whichever way it falls, is a change of life for the Higham. If I don't get back here to this blog, there are other team members I'd invite to contribute.

If I do come back, it will be a metamorphosed Bigglesworth you'll be seeing. This is living by the seat of the pants and you can keep it. I'm more for the quiet life.

'Nuff till we meet again, dear reader.

The temple of tame tigers

The temple of tame tigers

The Wat Pa Luangta Bua Yannasampanno Monastery in Thailand is home to a family of tigers raised by a monk and living alongside human visitors

After poachers killed its mother, villagers brought the first tiger cub to the monastery in 1999

Since then Abbot Chan has created a wildlife sanctuary where tourists can touch resting tigers

There are around 40 tigers in the temple, all of whom have been hand-raised by the monk and have learnt to control their aggressive behaviour

Chan says there is no secret to their friendliness toward humans...

...after four hours of swimming and a good meal of boiled chicken, the nocturnal animals want to sleep through the heat of the day

Tourists can attend, at short distance, the tigers' morning programme which includes exercising their hunting skills in the pool

It is a great tourist spot and a potential death trap, but there have been no accidents yet

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Boy in hospital after 'gas lighting' stunt backfires

Boy in hospital after 'gas lighting' stunt backfires



A 12-year-old has been taken to hospital with burns after blowing up a petrol can while breaking wind.

"The boy was attempting to set fire to his farts as part of a competition against his cousin in the garden of a house in Tipton when the accident occurred".

This is a variant of the Night of the Flaming Arseholes...