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Have a great 47th birthday along with the Bard, DW!
So whose up for joining the All-Star QPR Morris Dancers free gig on Shepherd's Bush Green at 2pm?
Featuring yours truly (surprisingly light on my feet for a fat b'staad), Pete Doherty and his shared dirty needles,Mick Jones from The Clash with his missing hairline and magic teeth,Needs no introductions:Lanky Phillip Beard,wee Tony Fernandes and his zig-zag hips,Robert Smith from The Cure with heaps of eyeliner and dodgy barnet,Bill Bailey the hairy comedian with the equally dodgy barnet,Alex Tudor the ex-Surrey cricketer & his inswingers,straight from his Portobello market stall outside Tesco's waving a cucumber The Legendary oldest QPR hooligan in town Sir Kenneth Swindells Esquire, Glen Matlock intoning God Save The Queen (ex-Sex Pistols),Andrew Ridgley with Pepsi and Shirley (George Michael's hetero Wham sidekick),on vibes Ron Gould's mate Sir Michael Nyman, from the front of the SAR F Block the spirit of the indefatigable Chanting On His Own Tommy Collins and his amazing repertoire of Rangers songs and many others too numerous to mention..
Come on down and enjoy 5 free pints of English Extra Strong Bitter foaming ale courtesy of leggy blonde,brunette,and (just for Talli) ginger hedgepig Tune Air hostesses.
If Rangers did St. George's Day..
[Post edited 1 Jan 1970 1:00]
'I'm 18 with a bullet.Got my finger on the trigger,I'm gonna pull it.."
Love,Peace and Fook Chelski!
More like 20StoneOfHoop now.
Let's face it I'm not getting any thinner.
Pass the cake and pies please.
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Happy St George's Day on 08:42 - Apr 23 with 4327 views
Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget, For we are the people of England, that never has spoken yet. There is many a fat farmer that drinks less cheerfully, There is many a free French peasant who is richer and sadder than we. There are no folk in the whole world so helpless or so wise. There is hunger in our bellies, there is laughter in our eyes; You laugh at us and love us, both mugs and eyes are wet: Only you do not know us. For we have not spoken yet.
The fine French kings came over in a flutter of flags and dames. We liked their smiles and battles, but we never could say their names. The blood ran red to Bosworth and the high French lords went down; There was naught but a naked people under a naked crown. And the eyes of the King's Servants turned terribly every way, And the gold of the King's Servants rose higher every day. They burnt the homes of the shaven men, that had been quaint and kind, Till there was no bed in a monk's house, nor food that man could find. The inns of God where no man paid, that were the wall of the weak, The King's Servants ate them all. And still we did not speak.
And the face of the King's Servants grew greater than the King: He tricked them, and they trapped him, and stood round him in a ring. The new grave lords closed round him, that had eaten the abbey's fruits, And the men of the new religion, with their Bibles in their boots, We saw their shoulders moving, to menace or discuss, And some were pure and some were vile; but none took heed of us. We saw the King as they killed him, and his face was proud and pale; And a few men talked of freedom, while England talked of ale.
A war that we understood not came over the world and woke Americans, Frenchmen, Irish; but we knew not the things they spoke. They talked about rights and nature and peace and the people's reign: And the squires, our masters, bade us fight; and never scorned us again. Weak if we be for ever, could none condemn us then; Men called us serfs and drudges; men knew that we were men. In foam and flame at Trafalgar, on Albuera plains, We did and died like lions, to keep ourselves in chains, We lay in living ruins; firing and fearing not The strange fierce face of the Frenchman who knew for what he fought, And the man who seemed to be more than man we strained against and broke; And we broke our own rights with him. And still we never spoke.
Our path of glory ended; we never heard guns again. But the squire seemed struck in the saddle; he was foolish, as if in pain. He leaned on a staggering lawyer, he clutched a cringing Jew, He was stricken; it may be, after all, he was stricken at Waterloo. Or perhaps the shades of the shaven men, whose spoil is in his house, Come back in shining shapes at last to spoil his last carouse: We only know the last sad squires ride slowly towards the sea, And a new people takes the land: and still it is not we.
They have given us into the hands of the new unhappy lords, Lords without anger and honour, who dare not carry their swords. They fight by shuffling papers; they have bright dead alien eyes; They look at our labour and laughter as a tired man looks at flies. And the load of their loveless pity is worse than the ancient wrongs, Their doors are shut in the evenings; and they know no songs.
We hear men speaking for us of new laws strong and sweet, Yet is there no man speaketh as we speak in the street. It may be we shall rise the last as Frenchmen rose the first, Our wrath come after Russia's wrath and our wrath be the worst. It may be we are meant to mark with our riot and our rest God's scorn for all men governing. It may be beer is best. But we are the people of England; and we have not spoken yet. Smile at us, pay us, pass us. But do not quite forget
Loving that poem,Blobby, from my fellow fat bas tard,beer-loving Catholic,Notting Hill patriot and master of paradox,the late great GK Chesterton.
"Smile at us,pay us,pass us;but do not quite forget, For we are the people of England,that never has spoken yet."
George Gideon Bullingdon Osborne would do well to remember those lines.He should wake up to the ordinary little non-millionaire people of England suffering from his pernicious austerity regime of a thousand cuts. Remember when Margaret Hilda lost the slumbering people of England back in 1990 and was ferociously bitten on the bum by the Poll Tax riots?
Before your flight to the Taffy sticks,Blobster,did you ever visit this cavernous fancy dan boozer pub at 19 Kilburn Lane off the Harrow Road Cemetery? It's cleverly - or pretentiously,depending on your point of view - named after other great Chesterton lines 'Paradise By Way Of Kensal Green''.
[Post edited 1 Jan 1970 1:00]
'I'm 18 with a bullet.Got my finger on the trigger,I'm gonna pull it.."
Love,Peace and Fook Chelski!
More like 20StoneOfHoop now.
Let's face it I'm not getting any thinner.
Pass the cake and pies please.
Happy St George's Day on 09:23 - Apr 23 by Metallica_Hoop
Happy St George's all.
I am in work in my England top and will go for an English ale at Lunch Nom nom nom.
Good plan.
Talli - my sister lives out in NZ and her son is called George. My brother-in-law used that as an excuse to take the family to a brewery out there called the Good George brewery, and apparently Wetherspoons have imported some of their wares to sell today. Not English, and as it is Kiwi is probably of a lager-ish hue, but I might manage to squeeze one in today.
Enjoy the day people. Let's celebrate all that's good in England, past and present.
I am still Steve but no longer in Dagenham.
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Happy St George's Day on 10:48 - Apr 23 with 4225 views
Happy St George's Day on 10:30 - Apr 23 by MoonshineSteve
Good plan.
Talli - my sister lives out in NZ and her son is called George. My brother-in-law used that as an excuse to take the family to a brewery out there called the Good George brewery, and apparently Wetherspoons have imported some of their wares to sell today. Not English, and as it is Kiwi is probably of a lager-ish hue, but I might manage to squeeze one in today.
Enjoy the day people. Let's celebrate all that's good in England, past and present.
Your brother-in-law sounds like a fine man
18 Stone I frequent that a lot in summer (beer terrace) Last time I was in there though on a thursday night my mate said "This place is full of utter Poindexters" I looked around, had a listen and realised..Yes it was.
I'll be back some lazy Sunday afternoon's though
Beer and Beef has made us what we are - The Prince Regent
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Happy St George's Day on 10:59 - Apr 23 with 4213 views
Happy St George's Day on 10:30 - Apr 23 by 18StoneOfHoop
Loving that poem,Blobby, from my fellow fat bas tard,beer-loving Catholic,Notting Hill patriot and master of paradox,the late great GK Chesterton.
"Smile at us,pay us,pass us;but do not quite forget, For we are the people of England,that never has spoken yet."
George Gideon Bullingdon Osborne would do well to remember those lines.He should wake up to the ordinary little non-millionaire people of England suffering from his pernicious austerity regime of a thousand cuts. Remember when Margaret Hilda lost the slumbering people of England back in 1990 and was ferociously bitten on the bum by the Poll Tax riots?
Before your flight to the Taffy sticks,Blobster,did you ever visit this cavernous fancy dan boozer pub at 19 Kilburn Lane off the Harrow Road Cemetery? It's cleverly - or pretentiously,depending on your point of view - named after other great Chesterton lines 'Paradise By Way Of Kensal Green''.
[Post edited 1 Jan 1970 1:00]
Yup,The Rolling English Road.
You know what Old Chum,I kind of expected that poem to be edited or deleted by now. I may very well have passed through the doors of that boozer. No hypocrisy in moving out of England.It's because I remember her in all her shimmering glory,the sadness wells up sometimes....
You can never go back.But even the memory is worth fighting for.
The South Country
WHEN I am living in the Midlands That are sodden and unkind, I light my lamp in the evening: My work is left behind; And the great hills of the South Country Come back into my mind.
The great hills of the South Country They stand along the sea; And it's there walking in the high woods That I could wish to be, And the men that were boys when I was a boy Walking along with me.
The men that live in North England I saw them for a day: Their hearts are set upon the waste fells, Their skies are fast and grey; From their castle-walls a man may see The mountains far away.
The men that live in West England They see the Severn strong, A-rolling on rough water brown Light aspen leaves along. They have the secret of the Rocks, And the oldest kind of song.
But the men that live in the South Country Are the kindest and most wise, They get their laughter from the loud surf, And the faith in their happy eyes Comes surely from our Sister the Spring When over the sea she flies; The violets suddenly bloom at her feet, She blesses us with surprise.
I never get between the pines But I smell the Sussex air; Nor I never come on a belt of sand But my home is there. And along the sky the line of the Downs So noble and so bare.
A lost thing could I never find, Nor a broken thing mend: And I fear I shall be all alone When I get towards the end. Who will there be to comfort me Or who will be my friend?
I will gather and carefully make my friends Of the men of the Sussex Weald; They watch the stars from silent folds, They stiffly plough the field. By them and the God of the South Country My poor soul shall be healed.
If I ever become a rich man, Or if ever I grow to be old, I will build a house with deep thatch To shelter me from the cold, And there shall the Sussex songs be sung And the story of Sussex told.
I will hold my house in the high wood Within a walk of the sea, And the men that were boys when I was a boy Shall sit and drink with me
You're getting blubby,Blobby in your exiled nostalgic cups. Fair enough..we all miss home,wherever it may be.
'And I fear I shall be all alone When I get towards the end. Who will be there to comfort me Or who will be my friend?'
Whoa hold up there,ya great self-pity nelly... What's happened to scotty jo_qpr63 all of a sudden,then? Trust she's well.
Here's a couple of sweet sentimental songs,nostalgia-infused tributes to ageing old English fellas coming to the end of their race & road:
[Post edited 1 Jan 1970 1:00]
'I'm 18 with a bullet.Got my finger on the trigger,I'm gonna pull it.."
Love,Peace and Fook Chelski!
More like 20StoneOfHoop now.
Let's face it I'm not getting any thinner.
Pass the cake and pies please.
0
Happy St George's Day on 12:04 - Apr 23 with 4149 views
Happy St George's Day on 12:36 - Apr 23 by isawqpratwcity
Actually, I hate this sh*t.
At least St Pat's is an excuse to get on the p*ss.
Why not crack open a bottle of Spitfire and grab 40 winks dreaming of Mick the Miller running round the old White City?
Laters,I'm off down the Green in my red waistcoat,garters and breeches with accompanying hankies and knee and elbow bells..If I say it myself I look the dogs bollux. Shepherd's Bush office girls hold on to your knickers & prepare to be blown away.I'm gonna shake my thing like a morris machine.
[Post edited 1 Jan 1970 1:00]
'I'm 18 with a bullet.Got my finger on the trigger,I'm gonna pull it.."
Love,Peace and Fook Chelski!
More like 20StoneOfHoop now.
Let's face it I'm not getting any thinner.
Pass the cake and pies please.
0
Happy St George's Day on 13:07 - Apr 23 with 4100 views
Happy St George's Day on 12:55 - Apr 23 by 18StoneOfHoop
Why not crack open a bottle of Spitfire and grab 40 winks dreaming of Mick the Miller running round the old White City?
Laters,I'm off down the Green in my red waistcoat,garters and breeches with accompanying hankies and knee and elbow bells..If I say it myself I look the dogs bollux. Shepherd's Bush office girls hold on to your knickers & prepare to be blown away.I'm gonna shake my thing like a morris machine.
[Post edited 1 Jan 1970 1:00]
Oy,too young for Mick The Miller. White City was a good gig,not only the racing. Saw R's play there couple of time whilst munching a big steak dinner in the restaurant overlooking the "action" - yup,lost to Millwall.
Beef is what made England great.
and....
"Whatever happens we have got The Maxim Gun and they have not"
That 'The Secret People' poem of Chesterton's sounds more like Hobbiton than England.
Patrick Wright devoted a *very* long article to the subject of Chesterton's views:
'Far from being an outcrop of Tory thinking, Chesterton's idea of England's "secret people" originated as part of this dispute within Edwardian socialism and the radical Liberalism of that time. Chesterton and Belloc came to be known as "Distributists", arguing, against both monopoly capitalism and state socialism, that property and ownership of the "means of production" should be as widely spread as possible. Their vision was variously shaped by Catholicism, anarchism, Chartism, and also the decentralising thought of guild socialism, a movement that followed William Morris and John Ruskin in finding inspiration in the craft guilds of the medieval age. Their beleaguered "England" was on the side of the people against industrialism, monopoly capitalism and the rules and bureaucrats of what Belloc called "the servile state".'
Happy St George's Day on 12:36 - Apr 23 by isawqpratwcity
Actually, I hate this sh*t.
At least St Pat's is an excuse to get on the p*ss.
Thanks to Mum and Dad I got the best of both worlds,but one of the best p!ss ups I remember was when St Georges fell on a Saturday and the landlord of the Red Lion in Harlington ( who was a Paddy btw)really went for it.Old Joanna doing Chas n Dave and Vera Lynne stuff.Pints of beer at 1945 prices.Bunting and Union Jacks every where. Was blinding..
Happy St George's Day on 14:03 - Apr 23 by TacticalR
That 'The Secret People' poem of Chesterton's sounds more like Hobbiton than England.
Patrick Wright devoted a *very* long article to the subject of Chesterton's views:
'Far from being an outcrop of Tory thinking, Chesterton's idea of England's "secret people" originated as part of this dispute within Edwardian socialism and the radical Liberalism of that time. Chesterton and Belloc came to be known as "Distributists", arguing, against both monopoly capitalism and state socialism, that property and ownership of the "means of production" should be as widely spread as possible. Their vision was variously shaped by Catholicism, anarchism, Chartism, and also the decentralising thought of guild socialism, a movement that followed William Morris and John Ruskin in finding inspiration in the craft guilds of the medieval age. Their beleaguered "England" was on the side of the people against industrialism, monopoly capitalism and the rules and bureaucrats of what Belloc called "the servile state".'
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