Dear Reader, following the death of Grandad, yesterday I had the sad duty of posting */knot-eyes* on MEROVEE of the death of U.N.C.L.E Mr Napoleon Solo… You know, Han :D’s twinnish bro…
*/Slaps forehead… Again!? FFS, Clicky, watt is it with you and posting embarrassing photos of me? …/folds arms and taps foot sternly… I mean… Why, for Gawd’s sake? …/turns in exasperation…*
*Past, Clicky. I heard it back in my youthful daze… /:O… Released on 7th September? That’s Thoughtful Man’s birthday! I didn’t know that fact when the Song popped into my head… /thinks… sew this means that information about my past was in my future… /grins sheepishly… I can quite see why you get confused…*
*Whoa! Did you see that?!*
*Where?*
*Ha! An English Garden variety? No I… /squint… knot-eyes the Wooley connection to my PPE… Um, it’s knit and… /mind stutter… wear, ware, where?*
*/sighs… Yes, the original Song, for me anyway, Clicky… For this synchronicity…/thinks… doo–ray–me–far–sew–la–T…qui… malarky. That’s the closest word I can think of to describe it…*
*Indeed… Hey! Today I became the 137th follower of a chap on Twitter… he’s a geodeticamong other things… Could be useful… I just had to look that up… Look, I took a selfie…*
*He’s visited the LoLbefore, Clicky… I don’t know why I didn’t follow him on the Y’elloRiver before…*
*Well, to be fair, that LoL post was inspired my crazy dooshund, rather than a wolf…*
*That’s a bit binary, isn’t it Clicky? What about a grey wolf? Still, Princess Ploppy certainly is well fed… Ah! …/slaps forehead… That’s why the Song popped into my head! I remember… first I was in theBlueUniverse… then paid avisitto the, er,Red…*
*Well, you know that, and I know that, Clicky… /lights umpteenth rollie… Methinks this post is a tad too big… /blows smoke… Shall we leave Dear Reader to it and have a Song?*
I was formulating a post in my head, when the Okie Texas Devil, Cade, stopped by the Library…
*Funny thing happened when I was searching for the clip, Clicky… I was reminded that Doctor Whowas in ‘Carry On Screaming’…*
*Legs calls him a popinjay, Click, but then Leggy is either No.1 or 13… *
*An Oscar for grouchiness, right… so I think I’ve worked out who are 4, 9, 10, 11, 12 and 13… or one… ish… it’s not easy, you know, Clicky…*
*Tell me about it… / sigh*
Anyhoo… Dear Reader, the rest of the post I was working on was left in reply to Cade’s comment, sew… if your interested, go take a look.
It has been a mystery ever since it was discovered more than fifty years ago, and all good theoretical physicists put this number up on their wall and worry about it.) Immediately you would like to know where this number for a coupling comes from: is it related to pi or perhaps to the base of natural logarithms? Nobody knows. It’s one of the greatest damn mysteries of physics: a magic number that comes to us with no understanding by man. You might say the “hand of God” wrote that number, and “we don’t know how He pushed his pencil.” We know what kind of a dance to do experimentally to measure this number very accurately, but we don’t know what kind of dance to do on the computer to make this number come out, without putting it in secretly!
Written in the sands of time… in which case perhaps god just used a finger?
From the Old Lady of Threadneedle street – the UK has a brand new fiver. It’s still blue 😉 Thoughtful Man got one last night whilst out working, and showed it to me this morning. It’s shiny and can survive a battering…
*What? …/innocent face*
Mrs Reign one side, smoker Winnie on t’other… see-through window…
*Saturn 5… I guess Big Ben does look a bit like a rocket, Clicky…*
Yes, I know today’s Friday, but I was kinda busy yesterday, Dear Reader. And this post is about yesterday, so if this presents a problem, you know what to Doo…
Thoughtful Man grunted and sat down on his chair. He looked decidedly hot and bothered. It could have just been the heat but I didn’t want to take the chance, so sent Clicky off for a nap.
“I can’t stand this weather. Look at me, I’m dripping,” he said wiping his brow.
“You do look sweaty,” I agreed whilst sitting in my own pool of salty water. “Well, what have we gotta do today?”
Thoughtful Man huffed and sighed. “It’s parents evening at the school tonight. Your sister will be here at five… we’ll need to tidy up, hoover.”
Juju had agreed to sit dog Princess Poppy for us whilst we traipsed up to the school to hear what Year 11 has in store for the boys.
“Fuck! That means I’ll have iron them a couple of extra shirts,” I said, slumping back into my huge, leather Library chair and instantly regretting it. “And the bedding upstairs also needs changing…”
A look of resignation and then something else crossed his face. Thoughtful Man stood up and, holding out his hand, said “We should just go upstairs and do it.”
Ah, so that’s what that other look was.
*Alright, Clicky. Calm down…*
“Juju, can I ask you to do me a favour?” I asked my sister later whilst wrangling with the ironing board. Everything pressed to perfection, all we had to do now was to get going.
She sat in the Library, playing with Clicky. Poppy stood in front of her, ball in mouth, wagging her tail expectantly. “What’s that, babycheeks,” Juju answered absentmindedly. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or the dog but carried on regardless.
“When we’re out tonight, could you read something for me? It’s a friend’s novel that I’ve been editing. It’s his first.”
“No, that’s Legs. This is Hugo Stone, I think he lives in Wolverhampton or around that area,” I said, squishing her along the seat so I could get to my keyboard. “It’s called ‘Cultish’ and it’s about ‘Satan, the apocalypse and lollipops’.”
Poppy dropped the sodden ball at her feet; Juju picked it up and threw it.”Sounds interesting. Okay,” she said over the sound of skittering nails.
“Be honest. Read as much as you want and then tell me what you think of it when we get back.”
Thoughtful Man appeared with two miserable but smartly dressed 15 year olds in tow. “Get off the fucking computer now. Come on, we’ll be late,” he barked.
Poppy didn’t know whether to follow the sea of retreating legs or get Juju to throw the ball again. The decision was out of her paws, however; we said our goodbyes and set off.
*I think I call you ‘a pain in the arse’, Clicky… No wonder Dumey doesn’t put up a fight over you… Can I get on with it now?*
Two hours later and we were nearly home. The auditorium had been packed, sweltering and noisy, the boys’ grades from the exams at the end of year 10, disappointing, and the only teacher available to meet with us was the ICT teacher, Mr Hall, and he’d only started there that week. He did have a certain glow but it was more likely due to the excessive heat than any honeymoon period. The only thing of interest was a poster I’d seen outside the school library.
“I told you it would be a waste of time,” Kit Kat informed us from the back of the taxi via the intercom.
“No. Now I know you need to pull your finger out,” Thoughtful Man replied. His eyes shifted in the rear view mirror, fixing on Loopy. “And you.”
“I explained about maths…” Loops started to explain again, before catching his father’s reflected squint and deciding to shut up.
I tried to change the subject. Sort of. “What was that teacher going on about with PPE?” I asked out loud. “The Polish one, Head of Maths, she kept saying it but I didn’t catch what it meant. It doesn’t involve hard hats, then?” I quipped, lightening the mood, I hoped.
“No,” Thoughtful Man said as he turned the Bonnermobile into our drive and pulled up. “Stands for Pre Public Examination, I think. It’s their Mocks.”
We unbuckled and got out of the van. Juju appeared on our doorstep, Poppy in arms.
“That book you asked me to read,” she said as Poppy strained to give us a welcome home lick. “Filth. Utter filth,” she said sternly.
Time stopped. All five of us stood motionless, the only things moving were my eyeballs and our demented dog’s struggles. When I spoke, my lips, cheeks and tongue felt like they were moving in slow motion.”Didn’t you like it?”
“I didn’t say that,” Juju replied, breaking into a smile. “It’s really good but it’s utter filth.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and took Poppy from her. “Oh good. So you liked it?”
Juju waited for Thoughtful Man and boys to move out of earshot. “Yeah,” she confided sotto voce. “And I was wondering if I could, er, take it home with me so I can, you know, finish it?”
*******
*What? …/cocks head… Oh… /furrows brow… My Merovee comment in moderation? I’d forgotten about that, Clicky… 137 ART…*
Today, my friend Hugo sent me an interesting ‘Knowledge Nugget’ about tobacco…
*Thank you, Clicky. I have no idea if it’s true… I should pop over to the Blue Universeand ask Harley or Rose…*
*Er, that’s a moped, Clicky*
Venus late Old English, from Latin Venus (plural veneres), in ancient Roman mythology, the goddess of beauty and love, especially sensual love, from venus “love, sexual desire; loveliness, beauty, charm; a beloved object,” from PIE root *wen- (1) “to strive after, wish, desire.”
This root is the source of Sanskrit veti “follows after,” vanas- “desire,” vanati “desires, loves, wins;” Avestan vanaiti “he wishes, is victorious;” Latinvenerari “to worship;” Old English wynn “joy,” wunian “to dwell,” wenian “to accustom, train, wean,” wyscan “to wish.”
Applied by the Romans to Greek Aphrodite, Egyptian Hathor, etc. Applied in English to any beautiful, attractive woman by 1570s. As the name of the most brilliant planet from late 13c., from this sense in Latin (Old English called it morgensteorra and æfensteorra). The venus fly-trap (Dionæa muscipula) was discovered 1760 by Gov. Arthur Dobbs in North Carolina and description sent to Collinson in England. The Central Atlantic Coast Algonquian name for the plant, /titipiwitshik/, yielded regional American English tippity wichity.
*Yep, that bit’s true…*
*No, Clicky, wichity… sounds like witchy…*
*/rolls eyes… Hey, that reminds me… The Professor has been awfully quiet of late…*
*Indeed they are, Clicky. But ‘bow‘ is one of those homo-thingies – you’re mixing up the meaning and pronunciation…*
*Okkaay… /puffs out cheeks …shall I get on with it, Clicky?*
*Thank you. A bit creepy, but thank you.*
*******
In the summer of 2012, I read a book called ‘The Fourth Turning‘ and it changed the way I looked at, not only history, but the current state of world affairs.
It was published in 1997 and, in it, a couple of Yanks postulate that human history is a series of cycles, roughly lasting 80 – 100 years. Each cycle (saeculum) can be broken up into four distinct seasons (Turnings): Spring (High), Summer (Awakening), Autumn (Unraveling) and Winter (Crisis), and the cycle is powered along by four generational archetypes moving through the life stages of childhood, young adulthood, mid-life and elderhood.
The authors had looked back at Anglo-American history and had identified 7 cycles:
Late Medieval (1435 – 1487)
Reformation (1487 – 1594)
New World (1594 – 1704)
Revolutionary (1704 – 1794)
Civil War (1794 – 1865)
Great Power (1865 – 1946)
Millennial (1946 – 2026?)
1997, the time of publishing, fell within the Autumn (Unraveling) season of the Millennial Cycle. The next turning would be the fourth (Winter/Crisis) of the saeculum and the authors predicted:
Sometime around the year 2005, perhaps a few years before or after, America will enter the Fourth Turning.
By the time I read the book in 2012, the Fourth Turning was already underway.
A Crisis year begins with a catalyst – a startling event (or sequence of events) that produces a sudden shift in mood.
Two incidents, either side of 2005, could be considered catalysts – the 2001 terrorist attack on the World Trade Centre…
and the Financial Crash in 2008…
*/squints… Clicky, is there a reason you’re using anti-tobacco imagery to illustrate my points?*
CLICKY: 2007 smoking ban..?
*Ah… /nods sagely …and it also reminds me to mention the Fourth Turning’s ‘Gray Champion‘*
Anyhoo, back to the book. It’s very US-centric but that, I suppose, was it’s target audience. However, yesterday I was interested to read mention of it in regards to Brexit at The Burning Platform, via Zero Hedge.
And the stormy weather featured in Blue Universe Frank’s Brexit post today…
And he specifically mentions the Spanish Armada – The Armada Crisis is the Fourth Turning (Crisis) season of the Reformation saeculum:
This won’t have been the first time Britain has been saved by a storm. On the 4th of August 1588, the Spanish Armada, which was about to land an army on England’s south coast, began to experience an adverse wind (much like yesterday’s storm wind) that blew it east along the coast, all the way to Calais, and then all the way round Britain and back to Spain.
*No and a bit rude, my fair Clicky. The Armada Crisis was a strictly Anglo Fourth Turning*
The Armada Crisis (Fourth Turning, 1569–1594) began when the powerful Duke of Norfolk was linked to a Spanish plot against the English throne, a discovery which galvanized newly-Protestant England against the global threat of the Catholic Hapsburgs. A crescendo of surrogate wars and privateering culminated in England’s miraculous victory over the Spanish Armada invasion (in 1588). The mood of emergency relaxed after the successful resistance of Holland and the breaking of Spanish control over France.
Interestingly Frank also posted a video of US Presidential nominee, Donald Trump, talking about Brexit on his arrival at Turnberry golf course yesterday. I dunno, he does look rather more gray than orange 😉
*******
*/Yawn and stretch… That’s enough for now, Clicky. Time for a Song?*
Thoughtful Man stood on the doorstep, fist full of mail and an impish grin on his face. He handed me the postcard, picture side up.
I looked at him quizzically. “For me?” Who would send me a postcard?
“Missouri? I don’t know anyone in Missouri.” The doorstep was bathed in afternoon sunlight but the squint I gave him was of the confused variety. I turned it over.
“Err…” My squint narrowed with suspicion. “Since when have I been Mrs W Hayward, Haywald – is Haywald even a name?”
Still grinning, Thoughtful Man plucked the card from my grasp. “The address is right and you are Win.”
“How do you make that out?” I could barely see him I was squinting so hard. “When have I ever been Win?”
Thoughtful Man’s expression of faux-shock would have worked but for the corners of his mouth, which twitched upwards. “When you won my heart and I agreed to marry you.”
*Tell me about it, Click*
“Yes, well not withstanding the fact that I’m the luckiest woman in the world, the postcard isn’t for me.”
“Are you sure?” Thoughtful Man squinted himself now as he tried to make out the handwriting. “‘Dear Win, in Mo now, got in last night although my case didn’t arrive’. Oh no! Missing baggage!”
I snatched the card back from the chortling bugger and read it to myself. “‘Love M xxx’. Funny, similar handwriting to Mum’s. What’s this? ‘Harry S Truman Home and Library’. Hmm…”
“Uh oh. I don’t like the sound of that ‘hmm’,” Thoughtful Man said with a sagging voice. “What does ‘hmm’ mean? Are you going to be up all night writing?”
“Possibly.” I winked. “You did say the postcard was for me.”
That’s one way to wipe the grin off his face.
*******
*/rolls eyes… Well, Clicky, I was wondering what country is twinned with Missouri.*
Last night I read a fascinating post at Zero Hedge. I sent it on to my probing friend, Hugo. Big on the old nuclear connections is Hugo… No, Clicky, just the pix; no hidden extras this time, please*
*Thank you*
I may not know anyone travelling to Missouri, but I do know somebody that’s presently holidaying in Denmark, and, to paraphrase Shakespeare, ‘feeling rotten in the state in Denmark‘…
The Underdog himself…
*That’s right, Clicky, not only does the postcard feature the home and library of the only US President to approve the use of nuclear weapons in conflict, he was also…*
Truman’s 1948 election upset to win a full term as president has often been invoked by later ‘underdog‘ presidential candidates.
*Ha! Score for the win, Clicky… oh hang on, M could also mean… /eyes widen…*
Yes, I know today’s Friday, but I was kinda busy yesterday, Dear Reader. And this post is about yesterday, so if this presents a problem, you know what to 
Library of Libraries 