I was planning to do lots of enthusiastic Olympic-related blogging today, but then this happened. At the moment, at least it looks like the casualties aren’t on the scale of Madrid or Bali, but we still don’t have much information.
Jean of the Fountain, one of the florets of the French literature had however affirmed it: “nothing is used for to run, it is necessary to leave at point” a maxim finally applied by London which, launched tardily in its Olympic countryside, gained with the sprint the organization of Plays 2012 vis-a-vis in Paris, engaged as for it in a long marathon. In vain. The English capital was right of its French rival, finally, by 54 votes against 50.
Daniel Green says some things about the academic study of English.
If that result is indicative, we’re in for one hell of a summer’s cricket.
This is a theoretical recipe. I made some mackerel pate and was eating it with raw fennel salad. I think it would be worth actually incorporating them into one dish, but I haven’t tried it yet.
The normal mackerel pate recipe is just smoked mackerel blended with enough creme fraiche to make a pate consistency, and lemon juice and parsley for flavour. Because it’s such a strong flavour, you could probably add really quite a lot of raw fennel. Quite coarsely chopped, I think, for a bit of crunch and a rustic quality.
Rebecca Loudon said, in a post which Bloglines picked up but has since been deleted:
“And I hate writing and I hate writers, too. Seriously, it all pretty much sucks. Can’t we just get together and drink and do crafts? I’m sure I can find some ribbon and rubber stamps at the dollar store. And some glitter. And some glue. Lots and and lots of glue. The kind you have to squeeze into a sock and inhale in order for it to work.”
It really annoys me when people imply that crafts are somehow lightweight, frippery slapdash pursuits, compared to arts. Tell that to Chippendale. Or Lalique.
Or that the thumbprints on a handmade pot make it somehow more authentic. Rubbish. The best handmade pottery (and furniture, and glass, and clothing) has a superb finish, better than anything a machine can do. The idea that ‘crafts’ are amateurish is a sad side-effect of the Industrial Revolution. William Morris, although he has to take some of the blame, must be spinning in his grave.
It saddens me when quilters feel the need to describe themselves as ‘quilt artists’. Or when a fine piece of pottery is described as ‘art pottery’. I understand why people do it – ‘artist’ is a word with a lot of cachet, whereas ‘craftman’ has very little – but I’d rather see people make the case for crafts, rather than trying to hang on the coat-tails of so-called ‘fine art’.
Chippendale was a craftsman. But he was surely more talented and more influential than any British artist of the period. He probably doesn’t get the respect he deserves, as one of the greatest creative talents of the C18th – but Chippendale is no more an artist than Pope is an architect.
BTW – Rebecca just happened to wake one of the bees in my bonnet. I’m not suggesting she holds the any of the annoying opinions that I’ve mentioned.