But first...
Dulltown, UK: Today's quotation is from Cordwainer Smith's novel Norstrilia - it is from the early 1960s:
We here in Norstrilia don't carry tokens around, but in some places they have bits of paper or metal which they use to keep count. We talk all our money into the central computers which even out all our transactions for us...
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Yes, more crisp classical singing from the BBC radio in the workshop - oh, I really don't know what they are all going on about!
Classical music. It's funny stuff, isn't it? So lush and so precise, and everyone is so very careful to play it, and sing it, absolutely correctly. Yes, correctly. There is centuries old stuff, and quite modern stuff, but it all sounds pretty much the same. Is there something missing?
They, those composers, never got along with rhythm (what a funny word rhythm is, I can never seem to type it properly, and it had two Hs in it too!). Most of the stuff, even the modern stuff, is so very ploddy and inert, and lacking in spark, don't you think? I suppose a lot of it was written in times when people rode on horses, or sat in horse-drawn carriages - plod, plod, plod. It's what those people were used to.
No wonder when blues, and jazz music, and rock and roll, which are very dynamic and rhythmic, broke out, the classical people just completely ignored the whole idea of it - they probably thought is sounded too, er, primitive, and unsophisticated...
Anyway, here are some more of my misheard classical lines from the radio:
'Spoon taps, my dear, spoon taps...'
'Library love is the he he he he he he.'
'Serron-spur, my pass in a hand, yes.'
'Tipsy dealers, now have goes at the napsey'!
Oh, 'tis a bindey nigh, now it is his pommo'!
'A hard spoil! No, no no no no'!
'Here is my life - my lips are go-go...'
'Punt, hard men! Punt, hard men! Punt hard men'!
'Dooley-day, dooley-day, harr harr'!
'A sloppy night that I need, neef neef.'
'Ah, ah, ah, ah, soup, is my cause.'
'See, my buds are soon leaking'!
'A far light, woody canes, lofty beams, see now, my dear'!
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