I'm headed up North
where tea tastes much better
but why, I don't know, ๐ค
it's not that it's wetter. ☕
I'm headed up North
where tea tastes much better
but why, I don't know, ๐ค
it's not that it's wetter. ☕
Liberace - Fibonacci
Brian Lara - Kate O'Mara
Peter Cook told Barry Took
Paul Weller's a tall fella
Wayne Rooney - all the Moonies
Rusty Lee and Kiki Dee
Houdini - Mussolini
The Dalai Llama - Sir Keir Starmer
Michael Jackson - Toni Braxton
Robert Plant's a supplicant
Martin Clunes is farting tunes
Foo Fighters - Sue Ryder's
Doris Speed in Harris Tweed
Vincent Van Gogh - Tony Han Cock
New York is True North
Mick Jagger - Merle Haggard
Eddie Wareing - steady bearing
Billie Eilish fights the Irish.
Celebrity indemnity
Pay no attention
To this invention.
Lady Macbeth never could get this tea-making malarkey completely right and thought she could merely command the liquid into the cup- "Out, out damned pot, out I say!" ๐ซ☕
I'm not sure where or when I'm gonna spend my extra hour
I'm not sure if I have the right to exercise such power
For Time is a museum and we're all briefly curators
But let's be honest most of all we're just procrastinators.
Much like meeting an old friend after an absence, no words need to be exchanged, just the knowledge that you're back in safe and reliable company. ☕
I dunk the teabag tentatively in the mug as if I'm a painter looking for that perfect colour on their palette. We're all searching for that perfect shade of tea. You know it when you see it. ☕๐
Applaud the curtain call of summer
As winter waits in silence in the wings
Autumn speaks the lines of fallen colour
In hibernation, hope eternal springs.
living between
the tick
and
the tock
we never get time
to stop and take stock
before we arrive
and after we've gone
Time's the great orchestra
Now's the lost song.
Innit, though, I can't keep pace,
Is 'wicked' now so out of place?
I hear the kids all now say 'bless'
This parlance lark, such a mess
But stop to think what all this means
Our language and its fading genes
Fashions rising-fashions sinking
'Right-on, man'-'blue-sky thinking'.
I ponder then I contemplate
I reckon and I muse
Tea's the drink
It makes you think
We even leave reviews! ๐ซ☕
Do I love my country? I mean, there are parts of it that I actively dislike, but on the whole I love the people, the humour, the scenery, the cities, the cultures, the tenacity and the determination of the UK to get on with things. Does that make me a patriot? That's a trickier question to answer.
I've had my face painted with the cross of St. George and flown flags from my car windows during international football tournaments. I mourn along with the nation every Remembrance Sunday but rarely visit a church unless it's to lay someone to rest or to see someone get christened or married. I guess I'm like the vast majority of Brits. I'm happy for people to do whatever they want, pray to who they want, dress as they want, even behave as they want, as long as it doesn't impinge too much on my life.
Despite the Tweets we may read or the headlines that are made, most of us are a tolerant lot. I'll agree that it seems we're becoming more intolerant as time goes by but we'll put up with a lot before we complain. But am I a patriot? I think that word has been co-opted by a certain demographic which I, myself, could quite easily be mistaken for. The white, middle-aged man, much maligned recently by Gary Neville in a video that has split opinion. I'm on Gary's side. Apologies if you find yourself on the other side. I'll explain why I am.
If you profess to love your country then what does that actually mean? It's OK hanging a few flags from lamp posts and painting a few roundabouts but how is that loving your country? If the act of patriotism is tinged with a 'Love it or leave it' attitude to others then you're arguing that only those who love their country should be allowed to stay. Samuel Johnson famously said that 'Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel.' People left with nothing else can resort to patriotism and use it for dubious means. Whether that's frustrations at politicians or frustrations at how your own life has turned out, the resurrection of patriotism (surely something reserved for the Last Night Of The Proms?) feels distinctly un-British. We don't normally like to express ourselves. We don't tend to argue or make a fuss. Aren't we supposed to 'Keep Calm And Carry On'?
So no, I'm not a patriot. I have a certain love for this country built on the people I know and who live in it, although not necessarily because of all of its institutions.
Patriotism, much like our nations flags, should not be wielded like a weapon. If it is, it ceases to be the thing in which we believe. If you've got this far then you'll have your own opinion on patriotism and the flag. Maybe you served? Maybe it means more to you than me? That's fine, because tolerance and freedom of speech is definitely something I love and can get behind.
I might even fly the flag for that!
Memories are the cheques we once wrote to our former selves.
That's why we keep them in a memory bank.