Nature as a thing for all
But ought a Clown, with like Companion, rude,
On Scenes, so sacred, daringly intrude?
Shall vulgar Ignorance dare those haunts invade
For Knowledge—Learning—Wit—and Wisdom—made?
Shall beastly Boors those hallowed paths explore
Which Taste, and Genius, trod but just before?
Shall Ignorant Penury trace the tracks where Wealth
E’er paced for pleasure, or patroled for Health?
Loath’d Rustics’ footsteps thus presume to tread
Where Fame and Fashion, Lords and Ladies led?
Such swinish nostrils seek to snuff the scent,
Solely for noble Births and Noses meant?
- James Woodhouse
Says it all, really
His voice fading, Mr Blair insisted that Britain – especially its armed forces – should feel an "immense sense of pride" over the Iraq war.
And not only this, he also despoiled the occasion by carrying a lot of water for the US/Israel, repeatedly urging a war against Iran. He also disclosed that the Israelis were there, in the shadows, (where, naturally, it's anti-Semitic to suggest they might be) at the Crawford, Texas summit with Bush.
However, I feel there were enough slips here to reward a forensic analysis and cross-checking of what Blair said, to pinpoint the elisions, for example, from being sure that Saddam Hussein had WMD, to minutes later being sure that he had what was necessary to reconstitute his WMD programs.
That was far too obvious a substitution, but unfortunately, the deferential questioners engaged in no cross-questioning of any kind in the two and a half-hours I managed to stay awake for.
To the claim that the 45 minutes-claim has become overstated after the fact, Blair should have been asked to consider this, for example:
X
I'll leave you with Baha, who remains firmly committed to staying the course in Iraq, and is happy to have played his part in ridding the world of that monster, Saddam Hussein. Yes, he was only a lowly hotel receptionist, kicked and stomped to his death by patriotic brave British tommies, but men like Baha know that it is the smallest of gestures that can make all the difference, and that no man, no matter how seemingly insignificant, should be spared the glorious chance to advance the cause of freedom and international brotherhood.
Torygraph
Love the preparation here, with a lie detector! For believers in Lizard/Human hybrid, note the eyebrows, looks like Blair is going to have a tough time not shapeshifting this morning.
Criminal Types
Ruffler
A returned soldier who refuses to beg, but bullies, robs and steals.
Upright-man
Previously a servant, who is "skilful in picking, rifling, and filching," and who will bully lesser vagabonds. They are too proud to travel with their women ("morts").
Hooker or Angler
Carries a pole with a hook on the end, to snatch items through windows when people are asleep.
Rogue
Less skilled than the hooker, and more timid, the rogue is a more conventional thief.
Prigger
A horse thief.
Abram-man
Pretends to be mad, and to have been in the hospital for the insane, Bedlam.
Counterfeit crank
Pretends to have the "falling sickness," epilepsy.
Dummerer
Pretends to be dumb, if not deaf. According to Harman, "the most part of these are Welshmen."
Then (lower in status than the men) there are the female beggars:
Bawdy-basket
Carries a basket with trinkets, and uses it to get on good terms with the maidservants in a gentleman's house, from which they then steal.
Autem-mort
Actually married , often to an upright-man; she will take her children with her.
Walking mort
Not married, and therefore vulnerable to other beggars, especially men: "Many of these had, and have children. When they get caught, either with begging, bitchery, or bribery, they are quickly shaken out of all by the upright-men."
Doxy
"These doxies be broken and spoiled of their maidenheads by the upright-men," and then become prostitutes.
Dell
"[A] young wench, able for generation, and not yet known or broken by the upright-man."
Kinchin mort and kinchin co
The kinchin mort is a girl, the kinchin co a boy. Even for these Harman has no pity, for he comments,"soon ripe, soon rotten."
Despicable
This is supposedly the reason to seal material relating to the death of Dr David Kelly for 70 years.
"I requested that the postmortem report should not be disclosed for 70 years as I was concerned that the publication of that report would cause [Kelly's] daughters and his wife further and unnecessary distress," Hutton said.
Absolutely despicable. People are ready to denounce 'conspiracy theorists' at every turn, and here we have clear evidence of material being deliberately buried. Oh well, it joins the Dunblane massacre, where 106 documents were sealed for 100 years...
Something beautiful inside the dawn
With the jumble of stuff on the streets here, I usually despair instantly. "Look at all those wires." And then I begin trying to think of how to acheive a clear view.
This photo demonstrates the moment when I realised that there is no clear view, not out there in the world, and that I have been asking the wrong question. A better question is - "Is there a way to organise this jumble of stuff?"
Before, I would not have even considered this shot due to the post on the left, but using the solid colour of the wall to fill a third of the frame, the post became a useful part of a simple visual rhythm. That is something very basic to realise, and I am sorry if I am coming to it late, but perhaps there is a tendency to think, for example, of ugliness, and for it to be in isolation - "That post is ugly" or, again, "It is in the way" - but why? What exactly is it in the way of? I think it has to be in the way of something in the mind, and, going further, my point is that it is this thing in my mind that constitutes the genuine obstruction.
If I had kept moving around, perhaps the post would have looked wrong or ugly or out of place in some pictures, not in others. The lesson for me is that the post on the street is simply a post, but that the post in the photograph is a strictly visual element and the effect depends on how it is positioned within the frame.
There is something deeper inside of this sentiment, some unhealthy engagement with the world that I am probably replicating not just in this, but in everything, on every level, something in the basic structure of all of my experiences, always seeing those things that should be abolished, that are illegitimate, that possess no value, that defile, that the world would be better without, and so on. Instead of accepting that I will never achieve this clear view, and despairing, I would be better off accepting that this clear view is wholly imaginary, and rejoicing. To be fair, with regards to writing, that is not a problem, because of the ease with which the elements can be moved. I see that I have been regarding the outside world as a sort of fixed text instead of something that is actually quite plastic and open to interpretation.
That is some of what I see in this picture, a record of having managed to not let my mind obstruct my view. And, remembering, that the elements only need to combine neatly inside the frame, for a single moment.