Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Mutton-chop affront
I have just seen a young man, walking about as bold as brass (as they do), with a shaven head, a clean-shaven chin and upper lip - and a pair of large, apparently genuine mutton-chop sidewhiskers, hanging there amid all that hairless flesh. What was he trying to say? Presumably not 'Caution! Twat approaching'?
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A blog about, among other things, imaginary ideas - What ifs? and Imagine thats. What if photographs looked nothing like what we see with our eyes? Imagine that the Berlin Wall had never come down. What if we were the punchline of an interminable joke? All contributions welcome.
I said that the Morris dancers would be in on the opening ceremony at the Olympics. Who else would you have. Who else do you have. They were even banned by Cromwell and a plethora of churches. Had their outline scratched into the chalk by female fans. You could give them swords.
ReplyDeleteThe young man was saying, "Take me as I am. I am but a man, a sorry thing but mine own. As are these magnificent genuine mutton-chop sidewhiskers. You say, I am not worthy of such extravagant facial hair but here, friend, our opinions do part company. The good Lord, the fount of all creation and beauty, was in His infinite wisdom bounteously generous in bestowing on my humble self the freedom to proclaim His glory through the growth of such genuine mutton-chop sidewhiskers, and I do not shirk from the display of His munificence. If the sight is too much for your mortal eyes, then avert them, though you wouldst deprive yourself of a spiritual bestowing of grace in the honest perusal of such genuine mutton-chop sidewhiskers. Remember 'The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.'
ReplyDeleteSorry, Andrew - didn't realise it was you!
ReplyDeleteWould that this heroic chap were me, Nige. Alas, I can but dream of such audacity.
ReplyDeleteMy genuine mutton-chop sidewhiskers are nothing to do with the good Lord whose existence I do scorn. I am a nihilist & the whiskers are an expression of my contempt for society and all its mores, with particular reference to the bourgeoisie. I am a beacon of reproach and stoical indifference to the pitiful scum that inhabit this contemptible planet. Were truth reality, then my chops would be its one true manifestation.
ReplyDeleteAdmit it, Nige. You're really Edwina.
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