Not A Beau, But Beautiful Nevertheless

The Bristol Aeroplane Company was responsible for many memorable classics, among them the WWI-era F2b fighter:

…but chief among which is one of my absolute all-time favorites, the WWII Beaufighter:

After WWII, however, the market for such aircraft understandably disappeared, whereupon Bristol set out to make beautiful, powerful touring cars, a longtime favorite of people who wanted a bespoke car not made for the mass market.  (Story later.)

One of the trailblazing moves Bristol made was that almost from the start, they eschewed the crappy and unreliable little British engines of the era, and fitted their cars with BMW 328 2-liter engines.  British cars are taxed on engine size, the bigger the higher, but as Bristol cars were never cheap anyway, nobody cared.

Then in 1961, Bristol switched to using the excellent Chrysler 5.2-liter V8, and never looked back.

Probably my favorite is the Fighter, made from 2003 to 2011:

 

The Fighter remained true to that earlier philosophy, using a Dodge Viper 8-liter V10 to give it, in the immortal sales pitch, “sufficient” horsepower (~550) and speed (~200), neither of which has ever been documented as Fighters are never tested because every car is different and anyway, wealthy bluebloods don’t trouble with such insignifica, “sufficient” being, well, sufficient.

And, of course, it comes with a standard 6-speed manual gearbox, which is yet another reason why I love it.

Bristol Cars went out of business in 2011, stumbled along in bankruptcy etc., but they’re planning to bounce back with… electric cars.

Thanks, but I’d rather have almost any of their earlier models with an actual engine in it, such as the drop-dead gorgeous 407 drophead from 1954:

Oof.

And here’s the story, as promised.

Kindred Soul

I have an ally in my war against loud music in restaurants and other commercial venues.  Saith Nigel Rodgers at the DM :

The introduction of the smoking ban enabled us to shop, eat and drink in a smoke-free environment, so why does uncontrollable, inescapable background music linger in these spaces like cigarette smoke once did?

Unwanted ‘muzac’ (NB. ‘Muzak’ with a ‘k’ is a tradename these days) easily becomes a noise, and noise is the forgotten pollutant. Sometimes you can’t hear yourself think, let alone hear the person you’re with.

You can’t read, you can’t listen to your music on headphones. No, you’re trapped, beholden to a dreadful cacophony.

I wrote about this ghastly nonsense back in 2018, and if anything, I’ve become less tolerant in the intervening years.  Not long ago I ordered my food in a place which played loud music, and then about ten minutes later I got up and left, apologizing to the restaurant manager on my way out, saying that my tinnitus was causing me extreme pain and I would not be able to enjoy the meal because of the noise.  I went back a couple nights later, walked in, and walked straight back out again, motioning to the manager about the loud music.  I never went back.

The hell with them, and all the other places.  Nigel, old buddy, I’m right there with you.

News Roundup

Brought to you by:


hope it hurts the woke bastards, with their unisex changing rooms and their “diversity”-loving store displays.

Dept. Of Unsurprising Consequences:


or, put another way:  Homo Fest Causes Pox OutbreakOf course, some people are going to have a problem with that.


key words:  Newark Airport, New Jersey.


sod off, Swampy.


ask me again why I was always packing when I did the Uber thing but key word: Manchester.


I’m just mortified that we weren’t the first to do so.


in which we welcome the latest entrant to the conservatives’ “You Have One Bullet” game, where he joins such luminaries as George Soros, Hillary Clinton and Bill Gates.


wrong Markle.


sheesh, when even old, fat, White homos are at risk


key words:  San Francisco.

And in the INSIGNIFICA (what one Reader has dubbed the “Who gives a fuck?” ) section:


i.e. the struggle that women have somehow managed to handle quite well for over ten thousand years.


And finally:


spoiler:  they’re all-natural.

Not just that:  Paige also picked the eventual winner Justin Thomas to win the 2022 PGA Championship.

And that’s all the news worth looking at.

Speed Bump

In an otherwise good article, American Greatness‘s Edward Ring states:

But the exception proves the rule.

It is a statement that makes no logical sense.  Any exception to a rule actually disproves the rule, as a moment’s thought will show, because a rule is that which applies to all relevant circumstances.  If there are any exceptions, it’s not a rule but a guideline.  (/Captain Barbosa)

So where did this contradictory statement come from?  Originally, the verb to prove came from the Latin word probere, which means to test.  And yes, that was the word’s original meaning, for example when one “proves” (or tests) a mathematical theorem by subjecting its hypothesis (or theory) to a multitude of conditions.  If all the conditions generate the same outcome, the hypothesis/theory becomes a theorem (or rule), and its “proof” means “having been tested”.

I’m probably wasting my time on this, because the phrase has become nigh-ubiquitous, and seldom called into question except during angry rants like this one.

For me, though, it’s still a speed bump.

Still More Doubles

My old post on Doubles should serve as background to this post, so go back in the mists of time to read it.

Here we have a couple new entrants to this crowded field, Maya Jama and Maya Henry.

Maya Jama:

Maya Henry:

 

I know, they look nothing alike.  But when one sees, for example, a headline shouting “MAYA SHOWS HER BOOBS!”, you will understand my confusion as to which superstructure I’ll be seeing when I click on the link.

It’s a tough life of confusion I live, to be sure.