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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
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| Thanksgiving having passed such a short time ago this seems an appropriate moment to look at the other side of the coin: at You'rewelcomegiving.
You'rewelcomegiving is that nonchalant, not-quite-smug, and rather indeterminately located holiday wherein we take the time to celebrate one of the only three things that America has ever given to the culture of the world that are totally unalloyed, pure improvements (the other two being of course the Marshall Plan and Carrot Cake). Everything else---McDonalds, Hollywood, saying (but obviously not meaning) "Have a nice day", have all been unmitigated disasters and have been to the culture of the world the equivalent of bovine spongeform encephalopathy or at least of a nasty bout of foot fungus.
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| | Read More... | | For the next few minutes, I humbly (Oh! Yeah sure! Humbly! That'll be the day!) humbly suggest, if you value your diastolic and systolic parameters, that you not listen. This is especially true if you a Republican voter. Though, come to think of it, if you are now or have ever happened to be a Democratic voter it's not a good idea for you to listen either. Of course even if all of you who fall into those rare and noble ranks do stop listening it will still leave me with quite respectable audience figures. I mean, what is it? Something like half the people in this country who could vote (or should that be ought to vote) don't.
Sad isn't it? ...And however small its effect might be on our audience figures for the next few minutes, it is still sad.
| | Read More... | | If you happen, by some remote chance, to be an American listening to this, I think it would be kinder to you if you should have someone turn the radio off for you now, or at least stick their fingers in your ears and go "La la laaaa la la laaa la laa la la... " for the next few minutes, because, you see, I'm ...I'm about to demonstrate conclusively how you (you, who pride your selves on your virility, and on the the stern pioneer manliness of even your womenfolk, let alone your menfolk) are really a bunch of gentle, mild-mannered, timid whimps!
| | Read More... | | Always supposing that the world hasn't ended, or found itself embroiled in WWIII, and that neither of us is dead, or in gaol, or terminally ill (with, one hopes, a non-distressing and disgust-free disease), then the chances are quite good that when (and indeed if) you hear this I will be luxuriating in that fount of all things...
that home of the ... and the... um... that... ... .
Well maybe that explains everything, and gives you the whole and complete gist of this essay in one praecisio-enriched lacuna (Ok, in several bunched lacunæ)! You see I'll be at home in England when you hear this, and so this seems a good time to revisit the universally distressing subject of Ethnodeficiency--well at least it's distressing to the English, which ought to amount to the same thing.
| | Read More... | | In my more miserable, cynical, jaundiced and, quite frankly, anti-American, or perhaps just un-American moments (Oh! Yeah. Like you never have them--I'm sure everybody has anti-American, or perhaps just un-American feelings, even the most Love-it-or-Leave-it-y of the Daughters of the National American John Birch Rifle Society) anyway, anyway in that state I regale, or comfort, or maybe just distract myself with the thought that leaf-blowing is the defining American activity: it involves almost no physical effort, it is noisy, inefficient, and tends to end up dumping rubbish in someone else's back yard.
| | Read More... | | Thanksgiving having passed such a short time ago this seems an appropriate moment to look at the other side of the coin: at You'rewelcomegiving.
You'rewelcomegiving is that nonchalant, not-quite-smug, and rather indeterminately located holiday wherein we take the time to celebrate one of the only three things that America has ever given to the culture of the world that are totally unalloyed, pure improvements (the other two being of course the Marshall Plan and Carrot Cake). Everything else---McDonalds, Hollywood, saying (but obviously not meaning) "Have a nice day", have all been unmitigated disasters and have been to the culture of the world the equivalent of bovine spongeform encephalopathy or at least of a nasty bout of foot fungus. | | 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... | | 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).
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