Category: Old Fartism

Old-Time

Business, Management, Old Fartism

As an Ole Phartte of some renown, imagine my gleeful chuckles when reading about this man’s requirements for employment at his business:

A Welsh dessert shop boss has shared the most brutal job advert you’ve ever seen on Facebook, but has been universally praised for his no-nonsense attitude.

And if you don’t give at least one approving “attaboy” when you read the ad, we can’t be friends.

Here’s a similar no-nonsense attitude, but in precisely the opposite direction.

We run Britain’s strictest pub – no phones or kids are allowed inside and anyone who swears is BANNED

As one would imagine, I would be in real danger here — although I’ve found that the more I drink, paradoxically, the less I swear.  (Regular Drinking Buddies Mr. Free Market, The Englishman and Doc Russia might contradict this, though.)

Whatever:  I would happily guard my tongue at the Fox & Goose to be free from screaming children and fucking (oops) cell phones.  The only thing that might cause me to give the place a miss is that I’m not that fond of Samuel Smith beer — but then again, life is full of compromises. innit?

Then And Now

Old Fartism

Found these two pics in a newspaper somewhere:

Dallas, late 19th century:

The same block in Dallas, today:

With all the faults and problems associated with living in the 19th century, I still prefer the look of that time to the soulless concrete ghastliness of today.

But you all knew I would feel that way.

Unwanted Feature

Architecture, Old Fartism

Here’s another thing about this so-called “Modern Lifestyle” that is a stone in my soul’s shoe:

A SUPERYACHT owned by a Russian tycoon boasting an eye-watering £61million price tag is set to be auctioned off after being seized.
The stunning 240ft vessel – named The Axioma – has a catalogue of bougie features including six decks, a pool with a swim-up bar and even a cinema.

What is it with having an in-home movie room these days?  You can’t open a real estate listing without seeing a windowless room with a giant screen and a few overstuffed easy chairs in it, and if I ever bought a house with such a “feature”, all that crap would be tossed out and replaced with something of redeeming social value — like a tasteful, fully-stocked bar — before the ink was dry on the closing documents.

Here is where I could hang out with a few friends, enjoy good fellowship, conversation and companionable drunkenness, all in a friendly setting.  Maybe a TV screen in the corner so we could catch a decent game or a Grand Prix maybe, but live sporting events are different from movies, as a moment’s thought will prove:   they are definitely group entertainment.

Movie houses are, almost by definition, not a place for gathering and social interaction.  Oh sure, you enjoy the movie “experience” together (not that too many modern movies actually provide much of an experience, don’t get me started), but that’s it.

“Oh, but Kim,”  I hear the cry, “it’s really a place for your teenage kids to hang out with their friends.”

Yeah, I really want my teenage daughter hanging out in a dark room with her testosterone-laden boyfriend, with the sound turned up loud lest parents actually hear what’s really going on in there.  Or if there’s a whole group of them, to be greeted by a sea of thrusting pimply adolescent backsides when I walk in the room.

Okay, enough of that.  Or if not a bar, then a gun room.  Yeah, a wall full of cabinets such as below, inside a securely-locked door and suitably-impregnable walls:

Add a decent cleaning station / workbench, and I think you can all see where I’m going with this one.

Of course, someone might say that this would not be a place where I could entertain my friends — but clearly, you don’t know my friends.

Whatever alternative use you can dream up for that room, you can be sure that you’d get more enjoyment out of it than can be had from a screening of Fast & Furious 207  or whatever other childish comic-book action comes out of Hollyweird.

What He Said

Culture, Old Fartism

…on the topic of manners.

What do bad manners have to do with the end of imperialism, you might well ask: in a nutshell, nothing and everything. Moral authority disappeared with the empire, just as its successor, socialism, undermined the authority of the family and the pursuit of excellence. The media suddenly presented itself as a tribune of the people, sympathetic to the sensitivities of the masses, with the rich always ruthless and the poor always perfect, the children always innocent and trusting, unless they were white, then they were crazed and feral.

All good stuff, and more besides.

Still More Doubles

Gratuitous Chick Pics, Old Fartism

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.