Pi cubed and Mr Gladstone
Before a Saturday Gondoliers rehearsal (ante-practice, you might say) I stopped in at the Eagle and Child pub for some lunch. This is the CS Lewis, and JR^2 Tolkien hangout of yesteryear - they had an omnipresent wit and ability to crack all sorts of humorous jibes, evident in their colloquial expression of this pub as the 'Bird and Baby'... clever... oh yes.
Anyway, the last time I went there I ordered the famous (in a way) steak and ale pie. It was served in cylindrical form - a disc of diameter, say 10 cms, and height of 1.5 inches (note the ease of transition between imperial and metric measurements, subtle, yet elegant.) This time I was greeted with one of the Platonic solids - a pie in the shape of a cube. Naturally my mathematical streak (or steak, as I typed) ran wild with all sorts of knavish jokes and hi-jinx and indeed several mouthfulls were interrupted by a chortle here and there.
I took a bath yesterday - that's all.
On Monday was the first meeting in several years of the Balliol College Arnold and Brackenbury Society, which historically is the debating and dining society. Due to some rehearsal tomfoolery I missed the dinner, but ran home, turned my room upside down in order to find a black tie, but settled on an Irish equivalent. Eventually I managed to make the tail end of the dining, with an eclectic 'British and Continental' cheese board, followed by Balliol mints and coffee. As I don't drink that poisonous nectar of Lucifer, I took great delight in asking for a cup of tea, and saw one waiting for me, not more than 2 minutes afterwards.
The debate was about whether one would want to be SENT DOWN, or GO DOWN. The former being Oxonian parlance for a suspension (or even expulsion) and the latter being of the same genus, but an expression for graduation and leaving the university on 'good' terms. As such, much hilarity ensued with the perhaps low level punning techniques of the interpretation of these two terms. Afterwards the floor was open to mavericks who just wanted to a add a thing or two. Well, St Paul's Debating captain 2001.... stand up and be counted.
The tradition is to address the Ladies, Gentlemen, guests etc., and also the ashes of Mr Gladstone, who is a stuffed owl. That's right... he was the mascot of the society, and back before the Federation of the Commonwealth of Australia, the owl got singed and is now crematus. Just another one of those maverick tales from the land of Ox. Anyway, I took a leaf out of Jonathan 'The Dean' Swift's MODEST PROPOSAL, to say that I would rather be sent down for turning philosophy students into food in the hall to supplement dinner. I can't exactly remember the cogency of the argument, but it was lambasted with Swiftian satire in the style of Juvenal and Horace, particularly when MOUSSAKA could be replaced by students who studied Marx- Kafka... in a way...
Good times were had, and the seeds of gout were certainly sown with consumption of port beyond the recommended daily dietary intake.
Anyway, the last time I went there I ordered the famous (in a way) steak and ale pie. It was served in cylindrical form - a disc of diameter, say 10 cms, and height of 1.5 inches (note the ease of transition between imperial and metric measurements, subtle, yet elegant.) This time I was greeted with one of the Platonic solids - a pie in the shape of a cube. Naturally my mathematical streak (or steak, as I typed) ran wild with all sorts of knavish jokes and hi-jinx and indeed several mouthfulls were interrupted by a chortle here and there.
I took a bath yesterday - that's all.
On Monday was the first meeting in several years of the Balliol College Arnold and Brackenbury Society, which historically is the debating and dining society. Due to some rehearsal tomfoolery I missed the dinner, but ran home, turned my room upside down in order to find a black tie, but settled on an Irish equivalent. Eventually I managed to make the tail end of the dining, with an eclectic 'British and Continental' cheese board, followed by Balliol mints and coffee. As I don't drink that poisonous nectar of Lucifer, I took great delight in asking for a cup of tea, and saw one waiting for me, not more than 2 minutes afterwards.
The debate was about whether one would want to be SENT DOWN, or GO DOWN. The former being Oxonian parlance for a suspension (or even expulsion) and the latter being of the same genus, but an expression for graduation and leaving the university on 'good' terms. As such, much hilarity ensued with the perhaps low level punning techniques of the interpretation of these two terms. Afterwards the floor was open to mavericks who just wanted to a add a thing or two. Well, St Paul's Debating captain 2001.... stand up and be counted.
The tradition is to address the Ladies, Gentlemen, guests etc., and also the ashes of Mr Gladstone, who is a stuffed owl. That's right... he was the mascot of the society, and back before the Federation of the Commonwealth of Australia, the owl got singed and is now crematus. Just another one of those maverick tales from the land of Ox. Anyway, I took a leaf out of Jonathan 'The Dean' Swift's MODEST PROPOSAL, to say that I would rather be sent down for turning philosophy students into food in the hall to supplement dinner. I can't exactly remember the cogency of the argument, but it was lambasted with Swiftian satire in the style of Juvenal and Horace, particularly when MOUSSAKA could be replaced by students who studied Marx- Kafka... in a way...
Good times were had, and the seeds of gout were certainly sown with consumption of port beyond the recommended daily dietary intake.
posted by Tim Trudgian | 11:40 am
3 Comments:
Tim, did everyone stand om the table... or was that just you?
Jesse
It was a personal touch Jesse.
Understood.
Jesse
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