Elsewhere (273)
Natalie Solent on magical thinking, then and now:
Nongqawuse was a fifteen year old Xhosa girl who in 1856 had a vision in which three ancestral spirits told her that if the Xhosa people showed their trust by destroying their crops and killing their cattle, then on the appointed day the spirits would raise the dead, bountifully replace all that was destroyed, and sweep the British into the sea. Thousands believed this prophecy and slaughtered their cattle. But the dead slept on and the British remained in place. Nongqawuse explained that this lack of action was due to the amagogotya, the stingy ones, who had kept their cattle back from slaughter. She urged everyone to greater efforts. A new date was set for the prophecy to finally come true. The rate of cattle-killing rose to a climax. Eventually the Xhosa lost patience, and, with remarkable mercy, handed Nongqawuse over to the British. By then famine had reduced the population of British Kaffraria from 105,000 to fewer than 27,000.
Do click for the ‘now’ part.
Konstantin Kisin on the unhappy realities of ‘progressive’ utopia:
These enemies of the [Soviet] state included my great-grandparents who met in a concentration camp for political prisoners. Every morning at their camp, three people would be picked out at random from the general population of the camp and thrown into the icy waters of the lake to freeze and drown in full view of the other prisoners to ‘keep things under control.’ With this background, I am —perhaps understandably— hypersensitive to the emerging far-left in Western politics. I can’t help noticing similarities in the rhetoric about “eradicating inequality,” “smashing the class system,” and a new age of “radical egalitarianism.” And when I do, I shudder, because… it’s a reminder of the unforgiving reality that those who don’t realise how good they have it, or take their lives of plenty for granted, are vulnerable to demagogic ideologies that promise to tear it all down to build a ‘better tomorrow.’
At which point, these budding intellectuals came to mind.
Alexander Zubatov on the importance of cultural cohesion:
The more diverse we become, the harder we must work to achieve trust and unity… We cannot continue functioning as a nation if we do not first start thinking of ourselves as a nation once more. And thinking of ourselves as a nation means thinking of ourselves as one tribe. It does not have to be… a tribe constituted on the basis of ethnicity or race. But… liberal values of tolerance, pluralism, and equality are surely not enough to bond us together. While racial or ethnic tribalism is to be eschewed, cultural nationalism is indispensable. If our primal evolutionary biases are to be overcome, we must do more than integrate. Paradoxical though it may sound, to avoid the extremes of a resurgent chauvinism, we must assume a national identity; we must assimilate.
And Karin McQuillan on life near the border:
Another neighbour arrived home from the hour and a half trip to the nearest supermarket. The ground was muddy, so he carried his five-year-old daughter to the front door of his small house. When he turned around with a heavy bag of groceries in each arm, there was an illegal standing in the doorway, between him and his daughter. The illegal was wearing the man’s clothes, his hat, and was holding his gun. Given the circumstances, the American father ran the guy off with no confrontation. Next day, border patrol called. They’d caught the thief — could he come by to identify his clothes and gun. The answer was sure, but it would be two hours, as he was at a doctor’s appointment. Our neighbour was told, “We’re not allowed to hold him that long. We’ll have to let him go.” And they did.
As usual, feel free to share your own links and snippets, on any subject, in the comments.
Farnsworth,
…who knew he had a sense of humor ?
It does stand out when it (occasionally) appears.
Sorry for the awkward redundancy in that line you quoted. I seriously did not intend to write “seriously” twice.
SeriouslyHonestly.I view Hal’s posts as further evidence of the insanity to be found in the San Francisco area.
YMMV.
You’d have to completely avoid the teevee news and the internet itself to be unaware who the Media’s new “superstar teen heroes” are.
Bingo!!! Give the man a pickled egg . . . .–Albeit not entirely so much of no internet . . .
I will have a wander through the SF Chronicle/SFGate website to see of local occurrences, and will do a skim through the Google news aggregations for the US and UK, where I peer at the general headlines . . . But very particularly, I have no interest in reciting factoids in a trivia contest, all that one needs do is to eyeball the assorted headlines in many instances, I’m simply keeping up on the news.
I do have a look through /. for generally tech related Stuff . . . and . . . Oh, I’m blanking on the name but there is some blog off in the northern middleish England area that does keep being entertaining . . . .
—A viewing and reading hint, one doesn’t actually have to watch the videos. Really. Yes, David posts ’em, but when one’s seen one artistic pratfall, one’s seen ’em all.
Oh, and as far as the goddamn noisy box, there are people who have their shows, and I do have mine . . . The Oscars and The State Of the Union Address, which tells you how often I bother staring at some formal broadcast—Albeit I’ll grant that as I recall I didn’t bother with the latter during Bush II, and happily did go back to watching as soon as the US was back to having a viable president again.
Yes I have had proclamations from assorted directions of Yuh Gotta See Dis Vihdeo!!!!
Ah, No. I don’t.
You will get me the text, because I regularly read faster than some git meandering through some long winded paragraph of paragraphs.
And so, quite yes, just because a cat sneezes and triggers the posting of a twit, there is no reason or likelihood that I’m ever going to be aware of it.
Next you’ll claim that, despite your vaunted “google skilz”, that you’ve no idea who David Hogg is.
Quite, again. Between the two of us, with your apparent all out fascination with the fellow, I can only deduce he is your all time favorite drinking buddy and was the best man at your wedding . . . . whoeverthehell David Hogg is.
—He quite definitely may have been involved in something where I did indeed skim through a related headline, even over a couple of days or so, but I’m not remembering the name and rather expect he simply wasn’t even interesting enough to put into a headline.
Suggesting that . . . Gonzalez is “perfectly conservative” . . .
Weeeellll, you posted the parameters, and I simply filled in your framework . . . From what I see, she doesn’t seem to be right wing, and from what you posted, she doesn’t seem to be left wing, therefore that leaves her bookended in between those two mere extremes.
And, certainly as always and will ever be, no amount of frantic denials are ever going to turn politics into being only the mere left Or the mere right. And, we who are quite in between and actually getting things done will remain centered and in balance . . . . and staring at the volleys as the posing extremes continue to scream their empty and pointless agendas at each other.
I view Hal’s posts as further evidence of the insanity to be found in the San Francisco area.
I know, I know, you find horrifying and shocking the ideas of accuracy and attention to the actual details . . .
I see the pompous, self-righteous ass has returned. Gawd damn, Hal, you are so full of shit. You can go ahead and post more of your long-winded “smartest guy in the room” drivel if you must, but frankly, I’m done with you.
Unless one is north of the Wall. Up in Caledonia, an X supper is X served with chips*; rather than ordering fish and chips one would ask for a fish supper. It is, of course, perfectly acceptable to order a chip supper.
* NB this is using the proper English definition of chips, not using it to mean crisis like the Left-pondians do.
I don’t think english muffins and crumpets are the same thing.
Frankly, I’m scandalised by the confusion. It’s an outrage.
[ Added: ]
Even this place in Seattle, which claims to specialise in crumpets, seems only to offer appallingly undercooked and anaemic ones, disguised with ludicrous toppings. Cucumber, for God’s sake. The whole point of a crumpet is to combine a crunchy exterior with a softer, butter-absorbent interior. Which is why they tend to be better when heated vigorously under a grill rather than in a toaster.
It’s an affront to all decency, I tell you. Prepare my galleon!
Unless one is north of the Wall.
That’s madness. No-one goes north of the Wall. Not after dark.
Live in London? Play Murder Bingo.
Buzzword Bingo
Montreal crumpets, probably not the correct English kind but also messy and tasty with the right toppings.
But I also enjoy pickled “eggs” dipped in hump fat on Fairmount bagels.
messy and tasty with the right toppings.
I think we’d better establish what the right toppings are. I trust we can agree on butter, and possibly Marmite, but after that things get contentious.
Tim Newman ponders qualifications.
I trust we can agree on butter, and possibly Marmite…
Marmite ? I thought that was stuff countertops were made from.
Marmite ? I thought that was stuff countertops were made from.
[ Summons henchlesbians. ]
@Spiny Norman
Shouldn’t that be “thou shalt” ?
[Flees for safety]
Oh, for the the love . . . Just once, I wish someone would have the huevos to tell these humorless scolds to go fuck themselves.
To be fair, the pretty lass who wore the Chinese dress to her prom did, only politely.
Your weekly reminder that people often lie, sometimes quite shamelessly.
Note the involvement of the ludicrous Shaun King.
Note the involvement of the ludicrous Shaun King.
That is his slave name, he prefers either Talcum X or Martin Luther Cream, and according to this, he is the real victim of this episode.
and according to this, he is the real victim of this episode.
Ah yes, of course. It was “painful” for him – eagerly making those baseless, unchecked, potentially life-ruining claims and invoking “facts” that were merely the invention of a spiteful imagination. He was the one being “victimised.”
Could I suggest another Shaun King moniker? Nelson Wan-dela
You’re welcome
I think we’d better establish what the right toppings are.
Cheese obviously.
Marmite optional.
But never ever f*cking cucumber.
Cheese obviously. Marmite optional.
Good sense prevails.
But never ever f*cking cucumber.
Amen, brother. Testify!
You can slather jams and all kinds of nonsense on a muffin, but if crumpets have a topping (besides butter) it should be minimal and savoury. This stuff should be taught in schools. With fines for being wrong.
I think we’d better establish what the right toppings are.
Peanut butter and crispy American bacon. You’ll thank me later.
Your arteries maybe not, but those can be fixed.
Peanut butter and crispy American bacon.
See, you were veering off course with the whole peanut butter thing, but the bacon idea intrigues.
Though it’s somewhat outlandish.
Though it’s somewhat outlandish.
Until the rozzers start policing toppings as they do tweets, go for it. A quick check of Amazon UK shows you can get proper American peanut butter (Peter Pan, Jif, and Skippy) and Oscar Mayer bacon (called American bacon instead for some reason).
You try it, and I’ll spot you the cost, you could be a trend setter.
Note the involvement of the ludicrous Shaun King.
Could the falsely accused Trooper sue the f**kers?
Well since I started all this crumpet nonsense…
Yes, peanut butter and bacon seems to be the in-thing, or was a couple years ago when I first encountered it out in Colorado ski country. I had some sort of peanut butter, bacon, and…idunno, pork or something. It sounded intriguing and I’m always up for a challenge. I don’t get the attraction. Just a couple months ago I had peanut butter and bacon on a waffle (again, ski country). It was OK but, meh. Prolly a good thing to start a ski day, especially as we were having them at the top of a 10K + foot mountain. But still, meh food-wise.
I now see that I have had crumpets. I think Mom served them some mornings. She was a great cook but IIRC the crumpets were from Pepperage Farms or some such. Not much taste to them. Slathered them with jam (cause jelly don’t shake like that…OCD truly is a sickness). I presume having them home made or fresh from a bakery would make a difference. When I do do carbs in the morning, a rare thing usually force on me by the One Who Must Be Obeyed, I have always enjoyed a simple English Muffin (Pepperage Farms are just fine) with just butter on it. Bliss. But now I’m curious…are English Muffins, as we call them, even a thing in England? I don’t recall seeing them but it has been years and my interest in a full English Breakfast is mostly meat-oriented.
I quite like a little Patum Peperium* on my crumpets. It’s one of the most satisfying savoury flavours I know of. It’s not something you want to go overboard with. You certainly don’t go slathering it on – a thin scraping is more than enough.
*Also called Gentleman’s Relish. It used to be available in ceramic pots, but they switched to plastic a while ago. I still haven’t quite got over it.
Yes, peanut butter and bacon seems to be the in-thing…
If so, my grandfather was way the hell ahead of his time as he was the one who introduced it to we wee Muldoons.
But now I’m curious…are English Muffins, as we call them, even a thing in England?
Here in the developed world, muffins look like this, or like this.
Obviously, these are not to be confused with the other kind of muffin, which is a sort of spongy bunlet with unappetising bits of fruit in it.
…people often lie, sometimes quite shamelessly.
Many such Cases!
Which leads to This:
POLICE BODY CAMERAS CAN THREATEN CIVIL RIGHTS OF BLACK AND BROWN PEOPLE, NEW REPORT SAYS
Here in the developed world, muffins look like this, or like this.
Aha – from the outside those do look like what are called English Muffins sold in the US. Inside they are full of holes, I guess to get the butter all melted in, which is nice. But the only thing i have ever seen labeled crumpet at the store looked like an English Muffin on the outside but were so pale they looked unbaked, and I didn’t buy it. Thanks for the tip that the topping needs to be savory – this uncouth Yank would just have put butter and jam on it.
I grew up in the rural Northeast US and my childhood books were all English ones – Wind in the Willows, Secret Garden, A Little Princess. As a wee rat my head was full of deep, dark forests, wuthering moors, and tea, crumpets, and scones.
Oh and growing up it was breakfast, dinner, and supper, but once I left home, the convention seemed to be breakfast lunch and dinner.
but were so pale they looked unbaked, and I didn’t buy it.
You do have to grill them, quite fiercely, or at a push toast them, to get them crunchy on the outside. A crumpet should look something like this, though ideally a little more scorched.
And if you must put jam on them, do it out of sight. Behind a curtain.
Inside they are full of holes, I guess to get the butter all melted in, which is nice.
Yes that seems more like I remember. No to get all hegemony and…uh…stuff, but the texture of the more fiber-y (if that’s the right term…if it is a term) nature of the American English Muffin is a big factor in my enjoyment of the most optimal muffin experience.
Here in the developed world, muffins look like this, or like this.
My OCD again but then there’s the kind Aerosmith sang about, re:
It goes on from there…
we wee Muldoons
Band name.
One thing that’s less common now in my area is Yorkshire Pudding, mainly because suet is difficult to find in grocery shops. Maybe I should check in pet stores.
Inside they are full of holes, I guess to get the butter all melted in, which is nice.
Crumpets, and to some extent muffins, exist chiefly as a pretext to consume large quantities of melted butter.
Next week we’ll be discussing how to enhance a bacon sandwich, and indeed whether one should.
how to enhance a bacon sandwich
Add more bacon. Done. (Avoid the “Gentlemen’s Relish”…the Top Gear crew found some of that in a used car once…)
Crumpets, and to some extent muffins, exist chiefly as a pretext to consume large quantities of melted butter.
Aww dangit, David! You are making me hungry!!
Tea I have in my desk drawer and there is a kettle in the break room, but now I’ve got an helluva craving for crumpets and melty butter!
I’m looking forward to the bacon sandwich discussion. Is that anything like a bacon butty (not that I know what that is either, but came across the term in an English murder mystery)? Is it something we Yanks have corrupted into the BLT?
I tried previewing this, but got a Not Found error. Let’s see what “Post” does with it.
I’m… not familiar with the kind of thing I’m seeing.
Wow…
Just…wow
I tried previewing this
I never thought I’d see the day when I thought that there was such a thing as too much bacon. Until today.
Sorry, late to this thread due to travels.
Someone ought to get Bernie Sanders to take a decent trip through Sweden. The number of deodorant and sneaker brands on sale there would match anywhere in the world.
Sweden is not a Socialist country. It’s a welfare state, which is entirely different.
In economic terms is only just left of the US, and way right of places like France.
It’s also extremely progressive, which is why Bernie gets confused. He assumes all progressives back government control of the economy and services. He is badly wrong.
Sweden went a long way down the Socialist route, then recoiled when they discovered it was stuffing their economy.
boldly we march into battle
Some context: the actual Russian words are the first line of a very well known revolutionary song:
“Boldly we’ll march into battle for the power of the Soviets, and die to the last man in that struggle”. This is not post-Soviet literature, this is red meat for the faithful of the Communist kind.
[reviews crumpet v English muffins + appropriate topping debate. Smears toasted bagel with cream cheese.]
Smears toasted bagel with cream cheese.
I’m trying, quite hard, to think of some reason to object.
Nothing yet.
I see the pompous, self-righteous ass has returned.
Oh, were you absent?!
At any rate, aside from my having been still consistent and present all along, another easy observation is, If you don’t want a question answered, Don’t ask it.
Especially when you’re already apparently petrified about the answer being completely accurate . . .
I’m… not familiar with the kind of thing I’m seeing.
Luther burger.
This is not post-Soviet literature, this is red meat for the faithful of the Communist kind.
I’m rather expecting the assessment being that the Soviet Union ended, the Russian Federation began, and for that reason, anything more current is going to be “post-Soviet”, regardless of the content . . .
I see that Hal has accelerated his digging.
slather jams
Album title.
Heh.
“Unless one is north of the Wall. Up in Caledonia, an X supper is X served with chips; rather than ordering fish and chips one would ask for a fish supper. It is, of course, perfectly acceptable to order a chip supper.”
And anything without chips is “single”. Order a “single fish” and you’ll probably get two. Sometimes one and a half if they’re big, but usually two.
Now, should I throw a massive rock into the pool of linguistic confusion and casually mention that “crumpet” means something else entirely up here as well?
Yes, I shall.
“Crumpets” are large and flat, like pancakes. They do generally have holes like “proper” crumpets, but it’s not necessary. Your standard pancake is still a “crumpet”. But “pancakes” are drop scones. (Crumbs, Wikipedia’s PC Scottish nationalism-lite* actually comes in handy for once.)
*No, guys, you do not need to translate trade names into bloody Gaelic. Let alone “Scots”.
“Crumpets” are large and flat, like pancakes.
This is exactly why Hadrian had that bloody wall built.
WTF is This?
being an account of an American’s encounter with crumpets
(those of delicate sensibility, should any reside within this fine establishment, might want to avert their gaze)
My first (and thus far only) experience of crumpets was running across a package of a half dozen of them in Trader Joe’s. Being as they had been mentioned upon the pages of various English mysteries I had perused, I thought I might give them a try. Upon getting them home, I found that they resembled English muffins, so I considered toasting them, but there was no such instruction on the package. In fact, there were no preparation instructions beyond ‘heat & serve’ upon said package. Thusly, I decanted three them onto a plate and zapped them in the microwave for perhaps 30 seconds. Meanwhile, I fetched a knife and fork.
Upon completion of the heating portion of the experiment, I extracted the plate, sliced off a small chunk, and got down to business. After a couple of bites, I decided they tasted like pancakes, so I fetched the syrup. They were quite tasty with syrup, so I had the other three that way for breakfast* the next morning.
* breakfast being the morning meal here in philistine California, as opposed to brunch (mid-morning), lunch (in the afternoon), and dinner (or supper, as the two words are interchangeable here) in the evening
I decanted three of them onto a plate and zapped them in the microwave for perhaps 30 seconds.
[ Tries to hide look of dismay and sickening horror. ]
I decanted three of them onto a plate and zapped them in the microwave for perhaps 30 seconds.
[ Tries to hide look of dismay and sickening horror. ]
Oh, dear. Would 90 seconds have been better?
Would 90 seconds have been better?
Microwaves are best used for warming plates, rather than anything you might put on them.
Crumpets.
In my Birmingham childhood these were also called ‘pikelets’ (‘poy-clits).
For the benefit of colonial patrons, I should explain that my native variant of English, known as Brummie, is the standard to which all discerning gentlefolk aspire, as I’m sure our host will enthusiastically affirm.
as I’m sure our host will enthusiastically affirm.
Sorry, I can’t hear you over the violent juddering of the drains.
Sorry, I can’t hear you …
Sheer naked envy, there can be no other explanation.
Sorry, I can’t hear you over the violent juddering of the drains.
The rhine in spine stays minely in the pline.
Hmm, this thread gets curiouser and curiouser. Back in rural Essex, where I was dragged up, we had dinner at lunchtime and tea at dinnertime. I thought supper was something Northerners did. Tea on Saturday’s often involved muffins, which we called that even though we knew they were really crumpets. Tea on Sunday’s was often bacon sandwiches, which we never called butties. The only butty was a sugar butty, which my father was fond of. My parents are both Cockneys (although my mother would never admit it), which might be relevant to some of those things. At school we had dinner, but you might bring it in in a lunchbox.
When I played cricket, though, we had lunch and tea. And at my University residence we had high tea at weekends. It seemed to consist mostly of toast, and was an attempt to hide the fact that kitchen staff left at midday. All very confusing.
All very confusing.
I recently learned that some people think the way to cook a crumpet is to fling it in a microwave. I need a moment to process my grief.
With a normal human microwave, indeed. Mine, however, appears to be an export from Muspelheim, and I have learned to heat things (especially anything resembling bread) in 30-second increments.
The rhine in spine stays minely in the pline.
By Jove, you’ve got it!
The rhine in spine stays minely in the pline.
By Jove, you’ve got it!
Oops. Not quite.
The rhine in spine stys minely in the pline.
—See particularly Jilly Cooper and Class, where one of the social class character examples grows up being called Dive, and then later when he goes to work as a television broadcaster, starts calling himself Dave.
All very confusing.
I recently learned that some people think the way to cook a crumpet is to fling it in a microwave. I need a moment to process my grief.
We used to do them on the grill. I hope this admission hasn’t added to your distress. Oh, and it was butter. Nothing else.
Over at Ace’s one of the cob’s deprecates the practice of topping french toast ( which I believe is referred to a eggy bread in Blighty ) with maple syrup, and instead insists on salt.
This is, of course, an abomination.
He shall be dealt with.
It is only in the last few months I have essayed to prepare a Yorkshire pudding from scratch and was gratified by Joe ridiculously easy it is. The key to success is to preheat the pan and oil really really well before adding the batter.
Heathen.
Next try expplaining salt and sauce…