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Here is a repository of the texts of my together with some readings of them. The essays were broadcast by WXXI 91.5 Classical of Rochester, NY on Salmagundy each Saturday at 9:35am Eastern Time, from the beginning of time (1985) till May 2009 when Entropa (evil Goddess of Change-for-the-Worse-or-Possibly-the-Worst) troubled the minds of the WXXIites and they retired Simon and Salmagundy, and Rochester went into a terminal decline---for ever.
But I do continue on that brilliant bastion of all that's good and kultured, on WCLV's syndicated Weekend Radio on many (mainly NPRish) stations traditionally on the first and third weekends of the month, though your weekendage may vary, (these are archived for a couple of months). Richard Howland-Bolton |
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My stint on the Nobel Peace Prize Committee having proven so successful, and having now found myself at a loose end, I’ve decided to join the steering committee of the international campaign to have the day after Thanksgiving renamed from the rather boring "the day after Thanksgiving" or the truly dreadful and downright evil-sounding “Black Friday”, to the much more appropriate "You'rewelcomegiving Day."
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 or about half of my life to date light switches have proven an almost insurmountable problem.
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Some thirty years ago, back in the midst of a rather hot Summer, I was quietly minding my own business traveling, innocently and obliviously, through Upstate New York; when by chance I happened, quite suddenly and peremptorily, to be married by an American woman. The precise date of this unexpected occurrence being July the fourth 1980.
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At this present time of the failure of greed-is-goody, unfettered capitalism and panicking banks; this time when you can bank on panic, and on international meetings filled with powerless wailing from the most powerful economies; it behooves us to mount up and gallop to the rescue.
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  I'm sure that you are all thoroughly sick and tired of the election by now, what with the Media going mad with the bloody thing, and even politicians somehow getting involved; so I’m most definitely not going to add to their frenzy and your sick-and-tiredness by doing an essay on it.
No, so whether you can’t be a-Biden one camp and you are not able to stomach the McCurse of Cain, or you are wondering just what that other candidate did to inspire the old Slimy and Carbuncle song 'Mama Obama rolled out of bed and she ran to the police station' and, since you are (as I'm sure you are) a long time Monty Python fan, you are not going to do anything but laugh hysterically at anyone called Palin who's wearing a dress, you can rest easy that this essay is not going to be about the election.
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Columbus , of course, didn't discover America: he didn't intend to discover America, didn't think he had discovered America, and most decidedly wasn't even the first European to reach America. So, naturally, this Monday we celebrated (or at least observed) Columbus Day---presumably to help him get over the awful misery of his triple disappointment.
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Just for the record let me state, right off the bat, the little-known fact that we (i.e. the British) won the War of 1812 .
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It's a strange thing to me, as an Englishman over here, but it seems that deep down inside almost all Americans is a longing for somewhere else.
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’Tis now the very lunching time of day
When gullets yawn and hell itself breathes out
Grease vapours to this world: now could I drink hot soup
And do such bitter business as the Peekaboo1
Would quake to look on.2
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What was it Shakespeare said?
"What's in a name? That which we call a nose
"By any other name would smell, so the candidates would, were they not to be candidates call'd"
or something like that.
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