In 1945 peace broke out. It was the end of the joke.
He’s in one of his bleeding moods. ‘‘The bourgeoisie this is the bourgeoisie that’’ - he’s like a little child sometimes.
Ooh! You rotten stinker, Tidwell!
Erik Njorl, son of Frothgar, leaves his home to seek Hangar the Elder at the home of Thorvald Nlodvisson, the son of Gudleif, half brother of Thorgier, the priest of Ljosa water, who took to wife Thurunn, the mother of Thorkel Braggart, the slayer of Cudround the powerful, who knew Howal, son of Geernon, son of Erik from Valdalesc, son of Arval Gristlebeard, son of Harken, who killed Bjortguaard in Sochnadale in Norway over Cudreed, daughter of Thorkel Long, the son of Kettle-Trout, the half son of Harviyoun Half-troll, father of Ingbare the Brave, who with Isenbert of Gottenberg the daughter of Hangbard the Fierce …
And now for something completely the same: #421
Stop this, stop this. What a silly way to carry on.
Semprini.
Oh, mother, don’t be so sentimental. Things explode every day.
I’m not.
Your wife not nurse. She nurse, your wife patient. Be patient, she nurse your wife. Me doctor, you tent, you tree, you Tarzan, me Jane, you Trent, you Trillo…me doctor!
Ah, no thank you. We’re not Church people, thank you.
No one quite knows why.
Nothing to do with me. I’m not in this show. This is show five - I’m not in until show eight.
Well, if you can imagine the size of Nelson’s Column, which is roughly three times the size of a London bus, then Tchaikovsky was much smaller. His head was about the same size as that of an extremely large dog, that is to say, two very small dogs, or four very large hamsters, or one medium-size rabbit if you count the whole of the body and not just the head.
Right! One rabbit stew, coming up!
What an eccentric performance.
There’s Archimedes, and I think he’s had an idea! “Eureka!” Archimedes, out to Socrates. Socrates back to Archimedes. Archimedes out to Heraclitus who beats Hegel. Heraclitus a little flick. Here he comes, on the far post. Socrates is there! Socrates heads it in! Socrates has scored! The Greeks are going mad! The Greeks are going mad! Socrates scores! But a beautiful cross from Archimedes. The Germans are disputing it! Hegel is arguing that the reality is merely an a priori adjunct of non-naturalistic ethics. Kant, via the categorical imperative, is holding that logic exists only in the imagination, and Marx is claiming that it was offside.
Splunge!
I come about your advert - “Small white pussy cat for sale. Excellent condition.”
I am here. No traitor to the King.