oh.

A poem.

Say not the Struggle Naught availeth

SAY not the struggle naught availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke conceal'd,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!
But westward, look, the land is bright!

Arthur Hugh Clough


GO METS!

MON BRAVE!

I had absolutely no idea who Lanoe Hawker was untill about 5 minutes ago.

Now I have a vague sense of a member of the lost generation resurfacing as a psuedonym for my mildly famous older brother.

That's right, My brother has started a blog.

Tis a fledgling thing but as we have long held true in the 'mondale' clan "from tiny acorns do mighty oaks grow".
That's like a family motto.
So is "lark, see the mighty oaks of yore as they stride the land from Hapton to Portishead".
Another is "Never Relax!!"
And of course, the Delphic response to any question "timing".

Anyway, enjoy the blog, watch it grow.

Book Learning #25

Don’t get too comfortable by David Rakoff.

I saw him as a guest on The Daily Show last week.
He was talking about the log cabin Republicans and was rather amusing.

I thought that this would be a hilarious read.

Ridiculously, in between books hilarious.

It wasn’t.

It was well written and amusing. Perhaps more interesting than amusing. In fact, for the most part it held my attention and inspired thought. This was no rollicking Sedaris style yarn telling, This was funny in parts but more often educational in others, lots others.

The bit about Log Cabin Republicans was funny and pathetically, horribly sad.

The bit about citizenship and identity in the post 9/11 world was funny and fascinating and scary and wierd.

The bit about everybody in the world being equal to a piece of literature , some of us The Guttenburg Bible, some of us those little pink notes that say ‘while you were out’. That was funny.

But I wanted hilarious.

Get well soon Joe!

Joe is my brother's nephew.

Sounds a bit tenuous but it's not. We all larked about with Joe's parents before they became parent's etc and long ago formed some type of East Anglian mafia (albeit a sometimes diasphorous one)

Joe's five and has got some nasty stuff going on. I'm going to be keeping up with his progress (and that of his exhausted parents and lil brother and as yet to be born sibling) Youi can check out this fledgling blog at the rather obvious sounding link below.

Good Luck!

Friday the Thirteenth.

And we are having a mirror delivered!!!!!

Since Frau random Doubt mentioned 'the mirror man' I have not been able to get the Human league's "Mirror Man" out of my head. If you're not familiar with this pop classic from the 80s just ask me and I'll sing a few bars.

UPDATE: THE MIRROR ARRIVED. FRAU RANDOM DOUBT CHECKED IT. IT WAS SMASHED INTO A THOUSAND WEE TINY BITS. BAD LUCK UPON UPS. STAY AWAY FROM ALL THINGS BROWN FOR THE NEXT 7 YEARS.

Go. Go now.

Football news.
England's new manager Steve Mclaren is shit.
He should resign now.

This blog is formally committed to his dismissal/resignation.
A string of bloody awful results against third rate opponents.
Not acceptable.

England fans will recal the nightmare that was Mr Taylor's reign in the early 90's.
We cannot allow a repeat of those years. Christ, Nigel Worthington would do a better job.

Book Learning #24

Finding George Orwell in Burma by Emma Larkin.

This is one for the Orwellistas out there.

I say that because Ms Larkin litters quite a few indiscreet spoilers in this rather engaging book. If you are planning on reading any of Orwell's books in the near future and you don't wish to know the endings/broad themes of such works as Animal Farm, 1984, Burmese Days, Keep the Aspidistra flying, The Clergyman's daughter then come back to this book when you are done with the originals. Of course, If you have no intention of working through Orwell's books then you can read this without a hitch, that's what the spoilers are for.

Having said all of that this is an enjoyable accompaniment to the library of any Orwell fan. Larkin uses a trilogy of books by Orwell as a backdrop to recent Burmese history. Burmese Days, Animal Farm and 1984. The first represents the British colonial times, the second the establishment of socialism in Burma after WW2 and the third the totalitarian 'thought state' that exists today.

By a series of discreet encounters with Burmese dissidents and thinkers she traces Burmese history along with Orwell's experiences as a British policeman in the 1920s.
She attempts to find some of the locations that Orwell would have known and some of the settings for the novel Burmese days. She also picks away at modern Burma, both as a political entity and a tourist destination.

All the time she is attempting to evade the long arm of the Military who run Burma. They seem to be everywhere, suspicious of all foreigners as well as almost all Burmese. She also aims to find references to Orwell's Burmese experiences in his other books. I'm not so sure she succeeds with the last point but she does achieve a fine read and a glimpse into one of the world's darkest corners.

A recent article on Burma's current political shennanigans

October.

For a moment I wasn't sure which I enjoyed more; watching the Mets win or watching the Yankees lose.
I guess that moment has passed.

Conkers

So I lost the conker fight.

My Boss had a much bigger conker, it was a year old.
He'd told me where to find conkers in Prospect Park. When I found the tree last Saturday it was littered with very small conkers.

I smelled a conspiracy but kept quiet, not wanting to upset anything before the big bout.

I would never wish to smear an opponent, I just wonder how the hell he sleeps at night?

Truth be told it was a very close fight, No stampsies, lots of clean hits on both sides. The music teacher did a great job with the organ music. Towards the end both conkers developed large splits, it was simply a case of who connected next.

He did.

Still, I like to think that I have become the 'People's champion' or even better, the 'Children's champion' because children are better than grown up people because they are the future. I lost to 'The Man', I was their underdog. I have had a bunch of kids commiserate with me as I pass through the hallways. Perhaps I shall become their 'Queen of Hearts'.

One Hell of a field trip

I love Ellis Island. The ferry ride, the views.
Yesterday was one of the best field trips ever. Perfect weather, The kids rocked, great times.
Just look at one of the best locations for yard/recess in North America.
(They also learned some stuff but hey, check out the views!)

By the time I post this...

...his replacement may well have been hired.

Ah, Nigel. We had the best of times and some of the worst.
NEXT.

Links.

I'm trying to work links. Hope this works
Weasel.

Breaking news!

Firstly, he's been away for almost a year (and god knows he may stop at any moment) But one of my 'finds' of the blogosphere 'Blighty Blog' is back. Check below for a link.
(but between you and me, he's not as funny as he used to be)

God I'm getting so old fashioned about these links.

Next Friday, October 6th I take on the challenge of my boss in a public conker fight.





Last year I won.
(Thanks to Listmaker for the pics)

Book Learning #23

Burmese Days by George Orwell.

If it's fall I must be reading Orwell. There is just something so reassuring about my favourite author, something so, fall. I think it may have been September 1988 when my high school english teacher made us read '1984'. From that point on I was hooked, never more than 12 months away from another considered reading of his work. He is also one of the very few (count 1, maybe 2?) authors that I actually reread.

I should confess to having had some conflicts with the great man. Back in the 1990's when I was at the height of my fanatical Norfolk nationalism I was distrustful. I knew that under laws being thought up at that time, George Orwell would be listed as 'politically unreliable' for the crime of having lived in Suffolk* (a 'crime' we could today charge many of the great and good including our own dear Weasel and Delia Smith).

Such days and thoughts are now past us and in some way this could be said of Orwell.
Surely, the themes he writes about are dated and historically , politically irrelevant. The British Empire, International Communism, Come on, that stuff is all done and dusted.

The beauty of Orwell is that his themes remain relevant to the present as well as providing a look at the past. Colonialism, imperialism, call it what you will, it's still here. Even, to some extent the clash of ideologies. If we had managed to get beyond such concepts I suppose Orwell's words would sound dated, but he is shrewd with his words and fortunate with his timing.

In 'Burmese Days' Orwell paints a stinking, pitiful portrait of British Colonial rule. There cannot be one sympathetic character amongst the cast. Everyone, for some reason or another is simply struggling to survive, to make good in a sweltering situation, most through drinking at the club, some by questioning the purpose of Empire, some by hunting and riding horses. The book fares pretty well with small anecdotes and descriptions of characters for the first 200 pages and then things spice up, things happen.

I read the last 75 pages in a swirl of page turning frenzy. The action was tense and the ending tragic. No sympathetic characters, no sympathy for the characters.


* Orwell lived in Southwold during the 1920s and 30s, an area claimed by Norfolk because it's pretty.

Third Grade moments.

Every year it's the same. Last week Listo wrote about the difficulties adjusting to a new class. I couldon't agree more.
Having said all that I think my class may be starting to win me over.
Check this out.

We were discussing immigration and I was attempting to extract some ideas from them. I was trying to make the point that outside of New York City things are rather different. I was thinking Nineteenth century german farmer heading to the fertile pastures of the Midwest. I was thinking space. I was thinking open farmland and healthy, natural living far away from the Russian pogroms and the German Kulturkampf.


Me: "When you leave New York City, What do you notice when you look out of the car window?"

Kid 1: "People are nicer"

At this point a bunch of hands spring up so I start picking them off.

Kid 2: "Yeah, people in New York curse all the time".

Kid 3: "People don't smoke as much outside the city".

Kid 4: "People in New York are mean and they curse".

Kid 5: "People upstate are quieter and more polite".


And it went on, a litany of fantastic complaints from some of New York's Third Graders. Of course, Woe betide anyone outside of New York daring to criticise any aspect of the Four Boroughs in front of these kids.

The last Dance

The Labour Party Conference is in full swing.

Mrs Blair has already called Gordon a 'Liar'.

Mr Mandelson hasn't been helpful.

Tony is full of the love.



I am a touch perturbed about what may follow.

We shall see.

The moral of the story.

Always, And I MEAN ALWAYS, Check the top of the Ketchup bottle before shaking it.
Especially when dining in public.

Brooklyn pics

It's been such a ridiculously gorgeous fall day. Here are a few pictures of Prospect Park and Grand Army Plaza

Grand Army Plaza from Prospect Park West.




The Long Meadow.

THINGS I DID TODAY.

By Mondale, age 33 and a half.

Hey, I think I made it to older than Jesus. That's fairly cool eh?

Confiscated some NBAHoops cards from the two kids who keep playing with them in class.

Discovered that any future offspring will get INSTANT UK citizenship (Thank you, British Nationality Act 1981!- Hey, who would have thought the Tories would ever do me any favours?)

Stole food from a dear co worker. That doesn't look good but she was upset and I was trying to help. I ended up with 4 garlic doughballs. NIce.

Inserted a shopping bag into a small Volvic bottle. When another co-worker questioned the logic of this I did it again. TWO shopping bags into a small Volvic bottle. (Dear Guinness Book of Records, Is this a record?) That will show you.

I did that because I was trying to distract dear co worker from her own upset. Think of it, if you will, like a very small magic show in the faculty room. I didn't announce it as such because that would have been 'showy' but those who saw it knew what it was. I'm not sure I helped but the thought was there.

Became very bored, very quickly. I had to wait for an evening function at school. I decided to remain at my post and eat the free pizza that they provide for the losers who choose not to go home between the end of school and the evening function. That'll be me then.

I tried to stretch my legs and buy a cup of tea and a scone from the Trendy Loungery on Union st. This was a bad idea.
I had to fight, no, really, FIGHT my way past twenty or thirty moms with strollers and babies. There were no decent baked poroducts left and I just couldn't stand it.
I had to retreat to the expensive deli/market on the corner and buy a coffee and some chocolate bread just to stay awake.

I'm awake now.

Still several hours to go before I meet the parents of 2006/07.

I've scattered books around the room top make the place look 'learned'.

I've tidied Lego.

I've thought about tidying my desk but refuse.
My desk could be so much worse.
It's got a good 'slightly dotty teacher' look about it and a cool ornament that tell the temperature, air pressure and humidity.

I'm sure I'll blog more in a bit.