|
|
|
Here is a Sup—I mean 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.
I continued on that brilliant bastion of all that's good and kultured, WCLV's syndicated Weekend Radio on many (mainly NPRish) stations traditionally on the first and third weekends of the month, though weekendage varied, till the horror crept ever onward and that too was devoured (in August 2023, a date which will live in infamy or at lease mild irritation)... and only I remain, defiant though wimpering.
Richard Howland-Bolton
There are pop-up pics and links all over the place here. In text they are indicated by a double underline like this:
mouse-overing brings the pop-up up and clicking (usually) goes to the link | Browse by Category:
America
| Arts
| Britain
| General
| History
| Language
| Literature
| Music
| Science
| Society
| Favourites (mine not yours)
|
| I don't usually discuss politics directly in this spot (or blemish, or zit, or whatever it is) but of late this child of the sixties ...all right ...fairly young adult of the sixties... is getting rather worried. And it's not just here in the States where I fear that the government now thinks that it has a clear path to rule the Coalition of the Obedient (and not just in its warlike dealings abroad) and where you are supposed to have that tradition of rugged 'sod the ragged' individualism, and where Ted Kennedy can be considered a member of the Looney Left---but also back home in Britain, where Kennedy would be considered by many to be almost a poster child for the National Front, and where we are blessed with socialized medicine and official monetary support at every turn, and where our government thinks it can find a clear path when war blows in our ear by imitating the action of a small fluffy dog.
| | Read More... | | I was taking a bath the other evening, relaxing after a hard day and before an expected harder evening of marking homework. Snuggling down into my hot bubbly relaxant, I heard the almost inevitable ring from the front door bell. This, though, did not perturb my tub since my wife was about and was well known to be given to the answering of such interuptions. But what was this; I could hear muffled watery voices from, as they say in the acting profession, off.
| | Read More... | | The other week-end, right out of the blue, I just suddenly noticed, and..and, for the first time, that, ...by and large, ...you guys are bloody weird! I mean utterly strange and possibly gaga, but definitely weird! And (...so it seems) addicted to dressing up in bloody weird, strange and gaga costumes: ones, I'm loath to say, that are totally inappropriate both as to the historical period your head might happen to be in, and as to rational, objective considerations---considerations, moreover, that include at least some reflection in an actual, working mirror--- of your girth and age.
Of course it's my own fault, I mean I could have refused the invitation to Houston's Renaissance Fair-possibly-spelled--with-an-'e'-at-the-end-but-I-can't-for-the-life-of-me-remember, so I only have myself to blame.
| | Read More... | | I was out running early the other morning at my usual strange time and all of a sudden my brain got really jealous of my body getting all that exercise so the foolish thing immediately started exercising itself. Oh dear! It is so hard to control sibling rivalry across the mind-body divide, so, without paying any attention at all to what I might want (and also rather rudely thinking "Nyaa! Nyaa! Nya! Nyaa! Nyaa!!" at my body), it chose to exercise itself with the thorny problem (thorny that is if you are trying to be absolutely accurate AND at the same time fair to everybody concerned) of just what you call the people who were here before... um ... um ...well then there is the equally prickly pair of problems of 'before what?' and 'exactly how do you mean here?'--I ...I mean are we getting all "ubi sunt qui nos antefuerent"-ish here or merely somewhat more earthily topological?
| | Read More... | | "...Could I revive within me her symphony and song
"To such a deep delight would win me
"that ....1 I would build that dome in air,
"That sunny dome! Those caves of ice!
"And all who heard should see them there
"And all would cry Beware! Beware!
"His flashing eyes and floating hair,
"Weave a circle round him thrice,
"And close your eyes for holy dread
"For he on honey-dew hath fed
"And drunk the milk of Paradise..."
I bet that by now you are all saying "Thank God for that person from Porlock" or perhaps since I'm sure you are by now also in a more jaundiced and cynical mood "Thank God for drug induced memory loss" and you don't care if it's mine or Coleridge's.
| | Read More... | | Charity is, of course, one of the greatest evils in the world today---Oh I don't really mean the sort of generous impulse ("Here let me help you push your car to the side of the road and look under the hood for you." or "No! No! Let me get you all a round of drinks!"), freeform, spontaneous, from-the-heart sort of charity. No, I mean the organized, collection-plate sort, the sort exemplified by the United Way, that Mafia of the giving industry, or even by the Red Cross, its Swiss Army Knife!
| | Read More... | | I'm sorry Americans... now I do really, sort of, like you guys and all, but I do have to say it.... And after all, in the long term, you all know that it would be cruel to keep tiptoeing around that 10,000lb elephant sitting in the middle of the room.... So I can hide the truth no longer.... I've just got to come out and say it, whatever the consequences.... Which I hope are good... But...
You see....
You see....
You Americans prefer quantity to quality!
| | Read More... | | The word 'Nuclear' is a sort of American Anti-shibboleth (or should that be Unshibboleth? ...Anyway)---you see the thing is that if you CAN pronounce the word correctly then you can't possibly be an American, but instead must be some sort of an enemy, and if I'm any judge of such things, almost certainly an Ephramite, in which cased they'll probably take you and slay you (not to mention the other 41,999 blokes with you---or at least not to mention them without due acknowledgment, and a small royalty payment, to those wonderfully zany guys who brought you the Book of Judges chapter 12 verse 6).
| | Read More... | | Now, I've seen that weird movie by Terry Gilliam with it's homage to the Odessa Steps scene from Eisenstein's 'Bronenosets Potyomkin' so... Oh! No! No! Sorry! Wrong one! I mean that other movie, not Gilliam's 'Brazil' but Schaffner's 'The Beans from Brazil', you know the one where Laurence Olivier and full supporting cast track and fight those evil guys led by Gregory Peck (with a severe case of Mengele-itis) who are trying to clone Hitler's favourite cup of joe---THAT's the movie I've seen and since I have seen that movie, the recent announcement that they (those really frightening real scientists from Brazil) have just sequenced the DNA of the bean comes as no surprise, though something of a shock.
| | Read More... | | One thing that I really like to do when I first get to work each morning is to check the BBC News web page, just to make sure that that old song about there always being an England1 hasn't been disproved---Yet.
However the other morning I didn't like the experience one little bit, because there, glaring at me, was an article all about how the English don't know much about their history. An appalling percentage of (mainly young) people seem to know nothing about Sir Francis Drake, or the Battle of the Boyne, or even the Battle of Britain. They probably aren't even aware that there were no postage stamps available in the twelfth century!
| | Read More... |
 |
 |
|
| Home | Essays | Notes | Gallery | Miscellany | Contact |
All contents including writing, cartooning, music, and photography unless otherwise specified are
copyright © 1965-2023 howlandbolton.com and Richard Howland-Bolton. All Rights Reserved.
All logos and trademarks on this site are property of their respective owners. | Web work* by 
*as distinct from Wetwork
  |
|
|
