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New Old Music

Culture

Imagine you were a virtuoso guitarist who didn’t want to just play in a rock band. What to do?

Well, if you were Spanish, you could form a symphony orchestra with a bunch of like-minded guitarists, call yourselves SInfonity, and play some classical music like, oh say, Bach’s venerable Toccato & Fugue in D minor.

Not that this would have been one of your goals, but you would end up making Kim du Toit a very happy man.

To my Readers: set aside ten minutes of your busy day and give the above a listen. And yes, it’s live.

No need to thank me; it’s all part of the service.

Planning

Politics

Here we go again. It’s that time of year when Congress can’t / won’t do the job we send them there to do, can’t agree on a budget, and then come all the threats and dire warnings of a government shutdown.

Here’s what I would do if I were God-Emperor Trump: get within 24 hours a list from every Cabinet Secretary and department chief of all the government employees who absolutely, positively cannot be spared from their jobs as public servants — and then create the obverse of that list, and warn those people that if Congress fails to reach a budget agreement, then they are the ones who will be furloughed. Any and all complaints should be addressed to their Congressional representatives.

Just so we’re clear on the parameters, here: note that I said “cannot be spared from their jobs as public servants” — which would include people such as the people at the SocSec offices cutting checks to pensioners, air traffic controllers, Park Rangers overseeing national parks and monuments etc. — so that the public can continue to be served and not face childish games such as allowed nay encouraged by the previous Administration. All non-essential services can be placed in abeyance through furlough.

We can talk later about whether the furlough should be made permanent.

On a similar train of thought: all public service unions should not only be dissolved but made illegal, and Congress-only medical benefits ditto. (Let ’em suffer like we are, and we’ll see how long it takes them to clear up the medical insurance mess they’ve created.)

I’m stopping now before I get angry and start proposing the kinds of action which would get me noticed by Gummint.

5 Worst Things To Hear On An African Safari

Friday Feature, The Worst

Ranked in ascending order of frightfulness:

  • [click!]
  • “Did anyone see where that wounded buffalo went?”
  • “Funny; I could have sworn that there were six lionesses in that pride, not five.”
  • “Sorry, man; I forgot the snakebite serum back at camp.”
  • “What do you mean, you left all the booze back at the airport?”

Your suggestions in Comments, as always.

 

The Real Bridget

Drive Time

In yesterday’s Comments, Reader Darwin pointed me to his “review” of the Bridget, revealing an unashamedly-retro yearning for sports-car driving of yore. And I’m in full agreement therewith.

Of course, somebody already made the Bridget: it’s called the Caterham 7 Sprint, and I want one so badly my toes are twitching:

Read both linked articles, if you want to know what kind of car man I am.

My only gripe with the Caterham (and for that matter, the Bridget too) is that once seated therein, one’s ass would be mere inches off the ground. That means, in my case anyway, the assistance of one of these to get me out of the damn thing:

Other than that, I’d already have one of the Sprints. Or the Bridget. Or, if Honda ever decided to restart production, the S600 (which the Bridget resembles, according to Reader Darwin), or… don’t get me started.

Mind The Gap

Travels

…or rather, mind the passengers on the Paris Metro:

A man was stabbed to death on the Paris metro as witnesses filmed and posted photographs on social media instead of helping, it has been claimed.
Andy Brigitte, from Martinique, was knifed in an attack at the Châtelet-Les Halles RER station in Paris after a row with another passenger.

Just so we’re clear on this: Châtelet-Les Halles is not some little craphole in the northeast (see below); it’s the Parisian equivalent to London’s King’s Cross or New York’s Times Square stations. (It’s also a rabbit warren if you don’t know where you’re going; a buddy once spent two hours down there trying to change trains.)

But that’s not the point. As one commenter acidly noted: “Oh ok. In 2018, we die in front of a camera without any help.”

Disgusting. I can understand (a little) why people wouldn’t want to get involved in a knifing, because that’s how you become a co-stabbee. But just to take happy snaps of the occasion?

Still in Paris, the linked article has some more cheery news:

Paris metro drivers are refusing to stop at some stations in the capital amid fears over crack-fuelled violence, it has emerged.
A number of train operators have opted not to stop at stations in the city’s north east in order to ‘protect passengers’, according to union bosses.
Some stops are increasingly being used as places of business by crack dealers with Marx Dormoy on line 12 and Marcadet-Poissonniers on lines 12 and 4 said to be among the worst hit.

So if you’re going to Gay Paree in the near future, you’ll want to avoid those two stations, at least.

Unfortunately, there’s no way of avoiding Châtelet-Les Halles because it’s so central a hub. Be careful out there.

It sucks, because the Paris Metro is one of the best subway systems anywhere, and I love using it.