Evolving with the times remains an entirely foreign concept

I spent the Christmas break, treading the windy (as in oft swept by the wind) windy (as in torturously convoluted) halls and corridors of Dandy Towers, reading great leather-bound volumes of Chaucer and yelling selected quotes out of the window at the unkindness of ravens that seem to have taken up semi-permanent residence in the trees between the southern tennis court and the helipad.

“Time and Tide wait for no man!” I would scream repeatedly at their dispassionate mawkish beaks

“Murder will out, this is my conclusion!” I shouted more than once (Mainly because at that point, I had accidentally misidentified them as crows)

It was usually at the point when my face started to turn a rather fetching shade of puce, that Heckmondswyke would appear from the serving staff’s hidden walkway to bring me a steaming cup of weasel coffee and the latest edition of ‘Making a Gimp-suit for your Clydesdale’ (Part 1 - £1.99  Remaining 624 issues - £5.99) to calm my nerves. I would sit on the granite window-seat of the Ladies Tower wondering exactly how I would tell Mrs. Dandy that I had, once again, accidentally defaced another pair of bespoke doe-skin promenading trousers during my excursion.

It was whilst I was being given a wet-shave by the upper-bathroom houseboy that the dear Memsahib suggested that we try an alternative method of recreation that evening… Knowing my love of entertainment where fresh-faced Sons of the Empire (The British Empire, that is) take on the foul revolutionary Colonial powers and give them a sound thrashing, often seeing them on the business end of a bloodied nose and comically disheveled hair, she suggested that we watch the splendid Colin Firth vehicle ‘Kingsman’ – You should all go out and watch this film immediately. It is splendid, as I may have mentioned previously.

It led, as most things seem to do, to a heated discussion, as to what constitutes a ‘Real’ Gentleman – And more worryingly, whether today’s modern woman actually wants a Gentleman as a partner in the first place.   As you may probably have gathered from the name of this blog, I consider myself sufficiently more flamboyant than the average person to identify with the ‘Dandy’ classification.  As funds, situation and time allows – I generally overdress for any given occasion. It’s my ‘thing’… Along with identifying with the tenets of an earlier, simpler, age, and attracting peoples’ attention by poking them firmly in the shoulder or haunches.

To my mind there are several, easy things that one may do to be perceived as a Gentleman. (In no particular order)

• Never eat until all participants in any given meal have been served.
• If the meal is self-service, serve yourself last.
• Always hold open a door, and in the case that you are holding it open for another male, offer a questioning glance. If the glance is replied to with a shake of the head, let the door go and do not look back.
• Never wear a hat indoors. Unless it is used as an obvious Gentleman’s affectation.
• Realise that a hat may be reversed only under specific circumstances (e.g. driving in an open-topped car)
• Never give advice that has not been requested.
• When walking with a female, or child, always walk on the side nearest the road. When walking a dog, the opposite is true.
• Always be kind to shop and/or restaurant staff.
• Know that there are a selection of situations where it is preferable to come second, especially when it is not technically a race.
• Judge a person’s character on their deeds, rather than their appearance.
• Be able to shine a pair of Oxfords to a mirror finish.
• Admit when you are in the wrong.
• Correctly wear cufflinks as often as humanly possible.
• Respect the opinions of others, no matter how obviously wrong they are.
• Tell the truth, constantly (people get used to it eventually) and as a continuation, do not cheat, or steal – For that way Caddishness lies
• Know which cutlery to use for eating a banana.
• Be able to launch (and safely recover) a falcon.
• Never get angry to the point where you lose yourself in an argument.
• Be able to identify the birds, trees and animals of your native country.
• Do not hesitate to put a suffering animal out of its misery.
• Never start a fight, but always finish one.
• Know that there are circumstances where each and every one of these rules may be safely bent and/or broken, so that your Gentlemanliness will remain intact.

Leave me your thoughts… Gentleman – Could you keep to these rules more often than not?  Ladies – Would a Gentleman be more attractive to you if he did?

Could you suggest any more?

When the map was pink

So, tell me this cyberspace... Where does being a proud member of your country end and being a racist Nazi begin?

(I've used the word, Nazi, quite a lot recently haven't I? Loads of times yesterday, about flying disks and suchlike... Great word, so many possible uses - Did you know it's a contraction of 'Nationalsozialismus' or the National Socialist Party? That sounds much more fluffy doesn't it, something you could really get behind?)

Anyway, back to the question in hand, I'm an anachronistic kind of guy, I like hats, I wear a beard and sideburns completely unironically, I wear silk waistcoats and regularly use a pocketwatch... You'd be quite within your rights to think that I live in the past.

In fact, you'd probably be right. Why do I do this? Well, it's obviously because the past was a better place. There was clean air and long summer days playing in the woods, you could make a bow and arrow and your Mum knew how to make jam. It wasn't all great obviously, there was slavery and quite a lot of syphilis, but that was a small price to pay for being able to go to exciting new countries and expect everyone you met once you got off the ship to be able to speak English.

Ah, there you go - You see the first warning sign right there, the expectation that we had (and still have to a large extent) that Johnny Foreigner will speeka-da-English. At the height of its 450 year history, the British Empire covered a quarter of the world and comprised a fifth of the total planetary population, the Sun quite literally, never set on it. We sailed to foreign parts, planted a flag, claimed the land for the King or Queen (delete as applicable) of the time, enslaved the natives (but we taught them English and Christianity, so technically they still owe us), spread a light smattering of syphilis and cholera, exported all their food, rinsed and repeated.

We invented stuff though, and built things. Everywhere you went there were huge copper and brass steam engines, pumping water and mining coal to keep massive copper and brass steam engines running so that they could pump water and mine coal, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera as Yul Brynner might say. There was cast iron and battleship chain and mass produced bone china - You might counter that with 'Yeah, but five year old children were being seriously maimed in woolen mills, and young boys were catching scrotum cancer from sweeping chimneys for fourteen hours a day.' And I'd look at you funny, because no-one likes to hear the words 'scrotum' and 'cancer' in the same sentance. But honestly, wouldn't you rather see children sweeping chimneys than hanging around on streetcorners with their jeans around their knees, stabbing old ladies for an out of date tin of catfood? (And by children, I mean other people's children, obviously)

We had a Navy which ruled the waves (Which there's a song about, so it must be true) and an Army which kicked ass pretty much everywhere it went, especially when their cannons and muskets were turned on people armed with sticks and lengths of rope. We didn't have all the supply problems and the 'But I'm suing the Government because my Kevin had to buy his own body armour off of eBay and it came from China and it was made of papier mache' nonesense that we have today because we would take what we needed without a second thought... Without a first thought in some cases.

Sorry? What was that you said? Rape? do you mean of the indigenous populace or the country? Both? Well, yes, I suppose there might have been a small amount of that sort of thing here and there, I mean you get a few bad apples in any expeditionary force don't you? It's not like we exterminated anybody is it? No native tribes ever got wiped out because they were a bit close to places where we could mine copper, or diamonds, or pitchblende... *cough*

The women of the Empire (which, even to me, sounds like badly written Star Wars fan-fic) were proper women, with the big hats and skirts and parasols. Demure and cosseted, they ate bon-bons from silver trays, brought to them at 3:00pm sharp by Philip, the nice dusky gentleman that they'd had brought in from Bechuanaland especially for this purpose. Most importantly, they knew their place, which was atop a pedestal, being showered with gifts and the only thing they had to do on a daily basis was to look pretty whilst their husbands got on with the very real and worthwile job of being a good Captain of Industry and not getting gout... Or syphilis...

Wouldn't it be easier if things were how they used to be? The UK being the only real world power and thus guaranteeing no global war ever again? Children gainfully employed rather than roaming the streets like feral weasles? Women being sedate and wonderful and pretty and domesticated? Johnny Foreigner doing all the simple hard work in the hotter climates? Worthy but expendable lower-class people doing all the skilled hard work in Blighty?

You know it would, deep in your heart of hearts - A better time, a more rewarding existence for all... Well all the important people like us at least. But it'd still be best to keep a few ampules of Doxycycline about your person just in case.

　

I'd like to finish with a few definitions, see if you can guess where they fit in:

anachronism (əˈnækrəˌnɪzəm)

— n

1. the representation of an event, person, or thing in a historical context in which it could not have occurred or existed

2. a person or thing that belongs or seems to belong to another time: she regards the Church as an anachronism

　

satire (ˈsætaɪə)

— n

1. a novel, play, entertainment, etc, in which topical issues, folly, or evil are held up to scorn by means of ridicule and irony

2. the genre constituted by such works

3. the use of ridicule, irony, etc, to create such an effect

　

irony <sup>1 (ˈaɪrənɪ)

— n , pl -nies

1. the humorous or mildly sarcastic use of words to imply the opposite of what they normally mean

2. an instance of this, used to draw attention to some incongruity or irrationality

3. incongruity between what is expected to be and what actually is, or a situation or result showing such incongruity</sup>

Low resolution

So we're well into the New Year now, I mean, I'll still be writing down '12' at the end of the date for... Oh, I don't know... Maybe the next six months or so, but 2013 is definately here to stay.

Now, I've never been one that subscribes to this idea of setting myself unattainable targets, or even attainable targets for that matter. But there are some things that I will try to do this year. Actually, 'try' might be putting it strongly - What I'll probably do is carry on as normal and then if I accidentally do any of these things, I'll feel all smug and self-important and tell you all about it.

1. Get more involved in Burlesque.

I've been nipping at the edges of burlesque for some years now, the words 'Flamboyant' and 'odd' are ones that you could quite happily use to describe me (amongst several others of course, but those are the two I'm highlighting now) and I think that that sums up my feelings on Burlesquerie. It's not all about the strippers, although I'd be lying if I didn't freely admit that that is a part of it. It's more about the whole feel of it, the anachronism, the ostrich feathers, the music. Although I think the main thing is that it's one of the few 'Glamour related' pastimes that is totally non-judgemental where body shape/size are concerned. Real sized people are welcomed with open arms, and a lot of the professional artistes can't be described as stick thin by any stretch of the imagination.

2. Shine at my chosen career

This one is probably the most unlikely in fairness. I've been doing what I do, jobwise, for about thirty years now. I'm pretty good at it, it (just) pays the bills and I tend to get a lot of repeat business, in that places I've worked at, or people I've worked with, tend to ask for me if they have things that need doing that I can do. Thing is, this has virtually nothing to do with the fact that I am any better at these things than anyone else - It's usually because I make people laugh, at the same time as doing a half-assed job. The ability to fit into an already established team with the minimum of discomfort has been a mainstay of my repertoire for a long time. But now I've moved from being a contractor to being a permie, I might just have to get good at what I do.

3. Draw more

2012 will be forever remembered as 'The year when I actually started actively selling my stuff Internationally' - I've always been a 'hobbyist' as far as my artwork is concerned, drawing mainly for pleasure and I'd considered myself firmly in the 1st. year art student school of drawing. I mean, I'd designed a couple of tattoos for friends and family that they seemed happy with, but I'm certainly no H.R. Giger. I need to practice more, copy some stuff by more talented people than myself - I might even post it, and give a shout to the people I am hopelessly plagurising - If'n I remember that is. I might specialise in erotica, that always sells well, what with the Internet being populated almost exclusively by perverts.

4. Work on my Anger Management issues

I hit my alarm clock with a 2lb lump hammer last night because it wouldn't let me change the alarm time - This did not enhance my general user experience, my wife is buying me a new one today... (And no, you don't need to know why I keep a lump hammer by the side of the bed)

5. Finish my bloody trike

I have a rather lovely Honda VF1100 trike in my garage - All blue with silver flames (See flamboyant, above) , it was the love of my life until I sent it away to have it professionally finished. The dilligent and trustworthy professional I sent it to had a few problems and he ended up having it for a number of years (rather than the number of months that he originally quoted) and I kind of lost momentum. The damn thing's been sat there for over a year now with no real progress being made. It needs maybe a few hundred quid throwing at it and days (rather than weeks) of time. I seem to always find a reason for not looking at it, ranging from 'There's something else we need to spend the money on', through 'It's raining' to 'I've found some beer that I'd forgotten I had'. This really isn't good enough, I seem to be coming across as a bit of a procrastinator. In fact, I would be the King of procrastinators, but I can't be bothered - All bow down before your regent, Prince LazyAss the fifty-third - Bathe in my reflected protraction.

6. I will stop feeling guilty for doing things that I enjoy.

Actually, this one's probably never going to happen either. Maybe it's just my made up middle-class sensibilities, or maybe I'm just too gorram passive-agressive - As the Offspring once sang, 'The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care (Right, yeah!)'. I tend to show this particular nonsensical defect by going without so that others don't have to... Makes no sense at all - I earn the vast proportion of the yearly family income, why should I feel guilty for buying myself the occasional PC Game or Ladyboy? No-one berates me for spending my own money, it's all self-contained - I think I'm probably not as well adjusted as I thought I was?

Anywho, enough of my bleating, I hope you've found something here to help you rationalise your own impending failure to keep to your arbitrary resolutions. After all, if a Super-Villain such as myself can't hit his own targets, what chance have you guys got?

(Feel free to use this as an excuse to your nearest and dearest)