An Anagramecdote

Posted on December 23, 2014 by Nigel Hurll

You may have read the Anagramapoem in ‘Other Poetry’, in the introduction to which I refer to my brilliant invention, the Anagramecdote, of which that poem is an example in verse.

An anagramecdote involves concocting an entirely implausible and totally disingenuous story about someone (or something) and peppering it with anagrams of the subject’s name in capital letters, sorry, upper case! Well, in this case (upper or lower, it matters not), the story is not actually about THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, but contains anagrams of those three words. A variation on a highly original theme, I’m sure you will agree. OK, please yourselves.

Well, then. Our tale concerns Emmett Hammond, a quiet unassuming Londoner from Camden. Camden, you ask? Well, I SHAN’T CONDEMN EMMETT for that, you have to come from somewhere; I have better things to do with my time THAN CONDEMN EMMETT’S roots. Emmett was not afraid of hard work and had always wanted to run his own company. Unfortunately, his business ideas lacked a certain practicality – HAMMOND CEMENT TENTS Ltd was a prime example, although for a very short time it was a cause célébre, even attracting the composition of a classical anthem extolling the virtues of “concrete canvas”: a notable Telegraph headline at the time was: “ANTHEM COMMENDS TENT”. Unfortunately, ANTHEM COMMENTS TEND to be short-lived and the company quickly became the Bankruptcy Court in CAMDEN’S TENTH MOMENT of company cessation that particular day. All of this despite the extensive advertising campaign NAMED: “C’MON THEM TENTS!” (I think this is an example of “hard sell”).

Emmett left the court ruing his foray into the hardened camping market, muttering “DAMN CEMENT – THEM TONS of useless grey powder! What possible use are you?! Wait a minute! I could make boots for people who wanted to lean forward at a 45-degree angle without falling over!” Then he thought, “Hang on, Emmett, HADN’T CEMENT, MOMENTS before, epitomised my ineptitude in the concrete industry, indeed, industry generally? Forget it!”

Actually, although his business acumen proved wanting in many respects, he had salted away a little cash – just about enough to buy a bicycle made for two – right, let’s have your TANDEM COMMENTS, THEN; he and his girl-friend were planning to buy a flat and they would enjoy cycling around to view various suitable properties. TENANTS COMMEND THEM, apparently – flats, that is, not tandems.

Well, there it is – get the idea? Don’t pinch it, or, if you do, please send me the results of your anagramecdoting.

Lege et Lacrima II

Posted on November 30, 2014 by Nigel Hurll

Vah! Denuone Latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur – Oh! Was I speaking Latin again? Silly me. Sometimes it just sort of slips out.

I just wanted to remind you of the campaign I proposed a short while ago, in case you had forgotten about it. I’m still keen to revive the so-called dead language and you may remember my outlining the distinct advantages (and some pitfalls, unfortunately) of resurrecting its universal usage.

One of the unfortunate advantages (at least from the standpoint of the drive for awareness) is that, on the assumption that he/she is not fluent (as you are) you can be quite rude to or dismissive of someone without them realising. In fact, because, as I have mentioned before, however banal, surreal or outlandish the statement, Quid quid latine dictum sit, altum videtur – Anything said in Latin sounds profound.

For example – oops, e.g. – Verveces tui similes pro ientaculo mihi appositi sunt – I have twits like you for breakfast; Tua mater tam antiquior ut linguam latine loquatur – Your mother is so old she speaks Latin; Sic friatur crustum dulce – That’s the way the cookie crumbles. Nowhere is it more demonstrable then in phrases such as Ubi est mea anaticula cumminosa? – Where is my rubber duck? Semper ubi sub ubi ubique – Always wear underwear everywhere; Te audire non possum. Musa sapientum fixa est in aure – I can’t hear you. I have a banana in my ear; Oblitus sum perpolire clepsydras! – I forgot to polish the clocks! Omnes lagani pistrinae gelate male sapiunt – All frozen pizzas taste lousy; In dentibus anticis frustrum magnum spiniciae habes – You have a large piece of spinach in your front teeth; Loqueris excrementum – You are talking shit.

I have considerable support for the renaissance advocated, in the person of the great Roman poet Publius Ovidius Naso (20 March 43 BC – AD 17/18) – Ovid to you – who once said: Rident stolidi verba latina – Fools laugh at the Latin language – and everyone, but everyone, always used to listen to him. And they still do – you only have to look at any public school curriculum (see? You can’t get away from it).

In my earlier treatise, I suggested that the dialogue in films could be considerably romanticised by speaking them in Latin; I have found a few more examples to bolster this contention: Ire fortiter quo nemo ante iit – To boldly go where no man has gone before; Te capiam, cunicule sceleste! – I’ll get you, you wascally wabbit! Tu, rattus turpis! – You dirty rat! Re vera, cara mea, mea nil refert – Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn; Luke sum ipse patrem te – Luke, I am your father; Revelare pecunia! – Show me the money! Pistrix! Pistrix! – Shark! Shark! (shouted in Jaws, surely?); Farrago fatigans! – Suffering succotash! Latro! fremo! – Woof woof! Grrrr! (Lassie).

You may remember that jokes relying on the vagaries of the English language don’t work (remember I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream?); well, neither do tongue twisters: Quantum silvam modio picus si posset picus silvam modio? – How much wood would a woodpecker peck if a woodpecker could peck wood? Pietro Fistulator lectis modii capsicum conditaneum, ubi modii capsicum conditaneum quod lectis Petro Fistulator? – Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled pepper, where’s the peck of pickled pepper Peter Piper picked? Corio rubeus, corio flava, corio rubeus, corio flava… – Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather… Vendit concha mare in litum marum – She sells seashells on the seashore; Vigilum publicorum Lethium nos dimitte – The Leith police dismisseth us. See? Almost ridiculously easy to enunciate, I think you’ll agree.

Well, there you are, keep practising the lingo (from the Latin lingua – tongue or language); It’s got a lot to answer for, hasn’t it?

Exciting and really quite amusing games #1

Posted on November 29, 2014 by Nigel Hurll

You can play this game without moving off your settee, as long as you have Sky TV and access to its electronical programme guide.

I spotted the fun potential of this quite a long time ago but, although almost my entire family are very familiar with (and unsurprisingly quite exasperated by) the concept, I think there are exciting possibilities, as you will soon see.

I’ll give you some examples and you will imagine the hilarity that ensues when a group of people visualise what’s missing from the title of the programme and call out their suggestions – it’s a bit like the missing words round on Have I Got News For You, but obviously much better. When you bring up the Programme Guide on the TV screen, sometimes the names of the programmes are too long to appear in full and only the first part is displayed followed by a few dots. All you have to do is surmise the name of the programme armed with just a segment of it. Over the course of the last few weeks, I’ve been scanning the listings for suitable candidates for treatment.

Christmas Day with Ale… A perfectly reasonable idea, you might think, and there’s really no need to suggest that there may be anything missing from such an admirable statement until you realise with horror when selecting the programme that it’s Christmas Day with Aled Jones. *shudder*

The Librarian – The C… This surely had the makings of a particularly boring documentary about the …Chap who collects and issues your library books; an admirable calling, of course, but hardly a topic for peak time seasonal viewing. To my relief, it was another of those Indiana Jones type thrillers: The Librarian – The Curse of the Judas Chalice. It’s got Noah Wyle off ER and everything.

The Sheriffs are C… I would dearly love to elaborate upon the possibilities here but children are watching; they always used to be Cowboys, of course. Damn! They’re Coming, apparently.

Sun, Sex and Suspicious Pa… Given the content of this show, it really ought to be Pant-stains but, somewhat disappointingly and, I suppose, inevitably, it’s Parents.

Nursing th… I did think this might have been another one of those cringeworthy documentaries about young Brits in Ibiza acting like idiots, casting off their inhibitions and, frequently, their underwear, being very unkind to their livers and very kind to the bank balances of the owners of bars and clubs, nursing th…e Mother of all Hangovers practically every day. Instead of which, it’s a much more delightful televisual offering looking at the work of district nurses, called Nursing the Nation. Hurrah, for a change!

The Treasures of Ancient R… Apparently there are no treasures of any appreciable interest from ancient Reading, Rotherham, or even Ragged Appleshaw, Hampshire (N51.23 W01.55, SU3148). Of course, you knew it was R…ome, didn’t you?

Get the idea? Now, the rules are simple. As you’re likely to be the sole participant (I usually am), you’ll earn points for all your suggestions, unless some disgruntled member of your family turns off the television and goes to bed. You won’t even be able to carry on playing by yourself as they will have taken the remote control with them. And, just to make sure, they’ll switch off the electricity supply*. Some people are real spoilsports.

*I’m not sure how they do it but they turn 3G/4G off as well.

What’s it all about?

Featured

Posted on November 27, 2014 by Nigel Hurll

Not an awful lot, really; much of the material on this blog will be familiar to some dear old friends who have followed earlier ramblings of mine on the intermanet, although what has been repeated has been subject to judicious amendment, necessary updating and blatant omission; there will be some new material as well from time to time [you mean about every three years or so, don’t you? Ed.] Everything is a work in progress but I am conscious of the fact that I have been extremely remiss with regard to adding material on a regular basis. I will try to improve, but can’t promise, although I hope you enjoy whatever you choose to read.