636: Political Stuff

The other day, I posted here about the rather pathetic Nick Clegg, with his rejection of the proposed ban of the brutal slaughter practices of the religious extremists with which this country is rapidly becoming over-run.

I read, I think yesterday, about the results of a poll carried out concerning the "public's" opinion of the leaders of the principal political parties.

I'm not at all interested in what they thought about the ludicrous Millipede, Weather-vane Clegg, or even UKIP's Nigel Farage, the latter apparently doing quite well. As my regular readers will know, I am no enthusiast for democracy, since there are too many oiks, chavs and thickos allowed to vote in our system, the inept system of universal suffrage as it is called.

My opinion is confirmed (at least in my view) by the fact that a criticism that was voiced in the poll was that Mr David Cameron was "too posh."

I take it from this unpleasant outcome, that it would be perfectly acceptable according to the aforementioned oiks, chavs and thickos, were Cameron to speak with the repellent "Estuary" accent currently so fashionable at the BBC.

After all, if the findings had revealed that a political leader attracted opprobrium by virtue of the fact that he was too common, then I'd bet a pound to a penny that we would never be told...

And since Mr Cameron does not (to me at least) sound at all "posh" I can only shudder in imagining how the respondents in the poll speak.

Vote for Nancy Mitford I say, or even better, George Sanders.

Gawd 'elp us, gorblimey guv, a merry Christmas on yer, strike a light, lumme, don't dis us, innit...

Until the Next Time

605: Voices: A Treat for MY Ears

Many a time and oft I have complained in my usual pedantic style about the decline of standards in the use of English - for example, HERE.

As an antidote, and with my grateful thanks for the power of the Internet, here, a couple of examples of the sort of spoken English that is seldom heard indeed these days, more the pity.

Truly a joy to my ears.

First an amusing anecdote from the highly-talented novelist and biographer, Nancy Mitford:

And to follow, the velvety though frail voice of  Virginia Woolf, recorded in 1937:

How I wish I could hear voices like these today.

Compare and contrast with e.g. Russell Brand or Jonathan Ross or that awful female continuity announcer (anaancah?) on what she calls 'BayBaySayToe'. Credit where it's due: Stephen Fry can speak properly, but the problems lie elsewhere - for example the cretins he employs on his television programme, in particular that tit in the lumberjack shirt, but also all those horrible socialist so-called comedians

I was born too late, much too late.

Until the next time.

604: A Bizarre 15 Minutes or So.

This gem I found today in the course of an Internet trawl, which began with Nancy Mitford, via Nancy Cunard, Virginia Woolf and one or two other twentieth-century luminaries.  Thus I came across those inimitable Bloomsberries fooling about at Lytton Strachey's house, Ham Spray.

The films were made by Beakus Penrose, younger brother of famous art expert and artist, Sir Roland Penrose and sometime lover of artist Dora Carrington who plays a prominent role in the films - you'll see her enjoying a ride on a white horse and you'll also see Strachey himself (Eminent Victorians, Queen Victoria etc.) leaning out of an upstairs window.  The film is also graced by the presence of a fine tabby cat...

Enjoy it!

Until the next time.