Well here we are again.
There's been attempts at terror, explosions and burning effigies. No, I'm not talking about the Middle-East but Halloween and Guy Fawkes Night here in good old Blighty.
The former there was a bit of let-down I thought. Halloween would clearly do well to avoid falling on a Wednesday again as this seems to have affected the festivities. The weekends on either side of Samhain were mostly bereft of costumed parties and on the day itself the only dark and disconcerting haunts I saw were the empty local boozers in my region, spookily empty and not in a good way.
Still, Bonfire Night proved slightly more robust with tyres and old pallets being wilfully destroyed for days on end this year, the UK especially gleefully sticking the V's up to Mother Nature and the Kyoto Protocol in order to celebrate the state sanctioned execution of some chaps over four hundred years ago.
Still, next year good old All Hallows' Evening falls on a Thursday. This combined with the lack of 'owt down this year and the year being that of 2013 might ensure a decent night of ghost, goblins, witches, vampires and the like next time around.
If we survive that is. More on that, next blog...
Showing posts with label Bonfire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bonfire. Show all posts
Tuesday, 20 November 2012
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Guy Fawkes, Where Are You Now?
There's been a measure of fuss made about the 'Occupy' gatherings.
For those of you not in the know...join the que.
From what I can gather it's something to do with banks - at least that's what the members in New Yorks' encampment are saying - but to be honest, had I not caught this in passing, I wouldn't have known. The trouble is, my local Occupy effort consists of a handful of tents, not really in the way of anyone, barely in anybodies field of vision with a poster of Bob Marley smoking a blunt (the mass production of these throughout history must surely have contributed in a large way to the decimation of several forests) stapled to a tree and a handful of those ready-made 'crusties' that seem to be constantly available for this sort of thing:- Where do they get them?
Anyway, the point being that their commitment, wilful stubbornness and struggle to make themselves knows means they aren't a patch on the yoofs by the shops. There they have been for a fortnight already, standing solemnly by a Guy Fawkes effigy*, asking for a penny with a curious mixture of dejection, disdain and mirthless foreboding.
When I saw their guy, slumped against the overflowing drainpipe in the St. Elmo's Fire-esque glow of the shops' Insect-o-cute, I assumed it was another one of their number as anyone of these beggars could fit the bill of a ragged dummy in ill-fitting clothing and like a Guy Fawkes effigy, I would 'ooh' and 'aah' at the sight of them on fire.
Their commitment is without question; their message is clear:- Come rain or flood, they'll be there till well after Bonfire Night, and if you try humorously to give them a penny, they'll follow you home and rape your pets with a snapped-off windscreen wiper. Oh and it may also be an error to ask these inividuals if any of them know a jot about the gunpoder plot lest you catch them just at the point where the cider/weed/Ketamine kicks in.
*It should be noted that like all the 'Guys' I have ever seen in my town, this one too has been assembled with the minimum of materials/care/fundamental historical knowledge:- Consisting mainly of what seems to be a hoodie, some paint flecked shorts and carrier bags, all lovelessly piled up to look like about as little like a seventeenth century Catholic activist as is viable.
For those of you not in the know...join the que.
From what I can gather it's something to do with banks - at least that's what the members in New Yorks' encampment are saying - but to be honest, had I not caught this in passing, I wouldn't have known. The trouble is, my local Occupy effort consists of a handful of tents, not really in the way of anyone, barely in anybodies field of vision with a poster of Bob Marley smoking a blunt (the mass production of these throughout history must surely have contributed in a large way to the decimation of several forests) stapled to a tree and a handful of those ready-made 'crusties' that seem to be constantly available for this sort of thing:- Where do they get them?
Anyway, the point being that their commitment, wilful stubbornness and struggle to make themselves knows means they aren't a patch on the yoofs by the shops. There they have been for a fortnight already, standing solemnly by a Guy Fawkes effigy*, asking for a penny with a curious mixture of dejection, disdain and mirthless foreboding.
When I saw their guy, slumped against the overflowing drainpipe in the St. Elmo's Fire-esque glow of the shops' Insect-o-cute, I assumed it was another one of their number as anyone of these beggars could fit the bill of a ragged dummy in ill-fitting clothing and like a Guy Fawkes effigy, I would 'ooh' and 'aah' at the sight of them on fire.
Their commitment is without question; their message is clear:- Come rain or flood, they'll be there till well after Bonfire Night, and if you try humorously to give them a penny, they'll follow you home and rape your pets with a snapped-off windscreen wiper. Oh and it may also be an error to ask these inividuals if any of them know a jot about the gunpoder plot lest you catch them just at the point where the cider/weed/Ketamine kicks in.
*It should be noted that like all the 'Guys' I have ever seen in my town, this one too has been assembled with the minimum of materials/care/fundamental historical knowledge:- Consisting mainly of what seems to be a hoodie, some paint flecked shorts and carrier bags, all lovelessly piled up to look like about as little like a seventeenth century Catholic activist as is viable.
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