They just don’t make them like him anymore, do they? Here be a little something to mark the passing of one of the greatest irritants of the Bastard Right ever. Made out of residual affection for the guy and possibly “con ánimo de offender”* the bien-pensants on Main Street. Hasta siempre don Fidelito. It was a pleasure to have known of you.
*Con ánimo de offender. (With the intention of offending/Aiming to affront). A collection of some of the most delightfully outrageous articles published by Arturo Pérez Reverte in El País, some ages ago. Highly recommended.
So… perhaps the Scottish vote and Corbyn (twice!) and Brexit were not a gaggle of Black Swans after all. Perhaps there is a trend on the rise. Dodgy, true, but possibly better than the BBC/Guardian/NYT/etc. party line.
Sketch. There’s a first for everything, obviously. Never done this sort of “for the Family Album” thingumybob collage stuff before. So here it is, a tribute to some people who have not only amused, inspired, moved me and made me think (the bastard…), but somehow have strengthened not only my resolve to live one more day (one at the time, easy does it) but to live it as if I was going to live forever. And as I was cobbling together this Rogues Gallery, sodden with the images and thoughts that each character brought back from the bottom of my erratic memory, I kept on humming bits from The Mikado, especially the one that starts with: There is beauty in extreme old age….. And goes on to ask:
Are you old enough to marry, do you think?
Won’t you wait till you are eighty in the shade?
There’s a fascination frantic
In ruin that’s romantic.
Do you think you are sufficiently decayed?
And today’s deep mystical question is: Can Gilbert and Sullivan be classed as a guilty pleasure? Answers on an e-postcard, please.
Update 13/11/16. And here’s the last of this mini series. Please note how BoomBoom looks in total rapture at Mick. He thinks he’s cool.