Disclaimer: unofficial & reflects no official position.
Dear student:
A classroom is artificial.
Not what you say but how:cf.:
"Mr X is a dishonest rogue" or " Mr X is falsely accused of dishonesty and roguery"
Teacher is happy with either!
In class I put " Murder, " on the board. Why? As an example of vocab. you need, not something I want you to go onto the street and do-
(though I've got a little list..)
I, the under-mentioned, by this document
Do declare my true intentions, my last will, my testament.
When I turn up my toes, when I rattle my clack, when I agonise,
I want no great wet weepings, no tearing of hair, no wringing of hands,
No sighs, no lack-a-days, no woe-is-me's and none of your sad adieus.
Go, go, go and get the priest and then go get the booze, boys.
Death, where is thy victory? Grave, where is thy sting?
When I snuff it bury me quickly, then let carousels begin -
But not a do with a few ham sandwiches, a sausage roll or two and "A small port wine, please". Roll the carpet right back, get cracking with your old Gay Gordons( A gay gordon is a dance, traditional, lively,)
And your knees up, shake it up, live it up, sup it up, hell of a kind of a time.
And if the coppers come around, well, tell them the party's mine, boys.
Let best beef be eaten, fill every empty glass,
Let no breast be beaten, let no tooth be gnashed.
Don't bother with a fancy tombstone or a big-deal angel or a little copper flower pot:
Grow a dog-rose in my eyes or a pussy-willow
But no forget-me-nots, no epitaphs, no keepsakes; you can let my memory slip.
You can say a prayer or two for my soul then, but - make it quick, boys.
Lady, if your bosom is heaving don't waste your bosom on me.
Let it heave for a man who's breathing, a man who can feel, a man who can see.
And to my cronies: you can read my books, you can drive around in my motor car.
And you can fish your trout with my fly and tackle, you can play on my guitar,
And sing my songs, wear my shirts. You can even settle my debts.
You can kiss my little missus if she's willing then, but - no regrets, boys.
Your rosebuds are numbered; (Classic quote:gather ye rosebuds while ye may, equivale en parte a lo que han de comer los gusanosetc..)
I’ve got uncles and aunties and cousins and nephews and sisters-in-law.
Our family swarms with them; it teems; they are thicker than flies.
Sisters and brothers and cousins and daughters and mothers galore,
The only time when all of us meet is when one of us dies.
At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave,
Whenever you go there’s always more arrive.
At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave,
For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live
Dead but there are dozens of us alive.
Take a family christening, well nobody goes to those,
And a family wedding more often than not’s an all ticket affair,
But a funeral’s free for all you can go in the same old clothes
No need to buy him a present so all of the family’s there.
You sit in the chapel and whisper and meditate over the stiff.
You never speak ill of him – especially if you were close -
But: "What a good family man, and a wonderful friend," even if
The defunct was a pain in the arse and he died of a dose!
At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave,
Whenever you go there’s always more arrive.
At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave,
For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live
Dead but there are dozens of us alive.
There are those of course who just stand aghast and just gawp
They cannot manage to cry – and there’s others who cannot refrain:
Willy-nilly they bellow and howl at the drop of a corpse.
In a couple of weeks they’ve forgotten the poor bastard’s name.
Then there are those of course who turn up and can then hardly wait
For the coffin to drop and the vicar to stop the and the sobbing subside.
And then they are barely a blur as they sprint for the cemetery gates
To go get their hands on the money, the food, or the widow’s backside.
Bt the grave, by the grave, by the family, family grave,
Whenever you go there’s always more arrive.
At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave,
For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live
Dead but there are dozens of us alive.
There are one or two "do"s turn out disappointingly in the extreme,
Where the booze is rough and the grub is duff and no flowers at all,
And the mother embarrasses you with a sudden hysterical scream,
Where the coffin you came to see off is pathetically small.
We do the round of the family faces and pay our respects
The "We’ll have to be going." "How nice." "How sad." The "Thankings you."
We are studying form and weighing up who it is going to be next
To go under the slab. Whose turn to pay for the very next "do".
Bt the grave, by the grave, by the family, family grave,
Whenever you go there’s always more arrive.
At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave,
For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live
Dead but there are dozens of us alive.
Lucy Jones is Assistant Comment Editor. She also runs the Culture blog and writes about popular culture, specialising in music, film and food. She can be emailed at lucy.jones@telegraph.co.uk and is @lucyjones on Twitter.
David Cameron is losing to Barack Obama in the fast-food power wars
Where's the bangers and mash? ( = Sausages and mashed potato, Britains favourite dish)
corn-on-the-cob
I’m struggling to understand why David Cameron decided to serve an American-style barbecue to Barack Obama today. Obama can get as many burgers as he wants at home. Sure, the sausages were “British” and the potatoes were “Jersey Royals” but let’s be honest: big fat burgers, coleslaw and corn-on-the-cob are American foods. The association is undeniable.
Cast your mind back to last July when David Cameron was forced to eat a grimy hot dog on the streets of Washington. Now he’s pandering to American tastes with his sleeves rolled up, sweating over a stove with a pair of tongs. You know what’s happening here: America is dominating us on a fast-food level.
To equal the playing field, Cameron should have served a spread of coronation chicken, poached salmon, jacket potatoes with cheese, spaghetti hoops and Beef Wellington. He wasn’t short of choice.
Marmite (spread thinly) is delicious. I also like Vegemite, Kraft’s version from Australia – it has a smoother and slightly milder taste with a hint of beefiness. Therefore, I deplore the Danish and their banning of yummy vitamin-enriched yeast extract.
I see their point about foods that are adulterated with vitamins: it is possible that people will over-medicate themselves withvitaminsthat they don’t need. At best they will simply excrete the vits into the water supply; at worst they may poison themselves. If you start the day with a “fortified” breakfast cereal, wash it down with a glass of vit-enriched Ovaltine,(= a malty granuled producted for adding to milk.) let’s say, and a handful of multivits, then have Marmite on white toast (white flour also contains a range of extrinsic, i.e. added, nutrients), then it’s conceivable you might overdose on some of the substances.
But Marmite remains an essential ingredient, a “store-cupboard staple”. Could they try making it without the added B-vitamins? After all, yeast has B vitamins of its own without needing to boost them with more from that group. (Marmite’s probably a good thing to eat if you’re a heavy drinker, to replace some of the B vitamins the booze is leaching out of your system.)
Only last night I was munching a toasted bagel spread with salted butter and Vegemite, the salty, yeasty tang of the dark brown spread contrasting pleasingly with the slight sweetness of the bagel. And I thought how strange in our globalised world that if you go the United States you find virtually nobody eats Marmite and it’s not in the shops. I like the umami flavour, which you get from things that have matured – parmesan, sun-dried tomatoes, anchovies, dried seaweed. You also get some of this richness of flavour from the so-called Maillard reaction which causes browning under heat – the skin of roasted chicken or caramelised crusts of bread.
We must be programmed to like Marmite, then. At least, half of us are programmed; the other half hate Marmite. Americans, who, as I said, don’t eat Marmite, think it tastes like – how can I put this? – ordure.
I have a friend who hates Marmite on the grounds I’ve just mentioned, plus she won’t eat anything that comes out of jars. I know what she means. Go back to Hannah Glasse and it’s all meat, fish, butter, eggs and cheese. Glasse wrote in the mid-18th century and we can now read her again in excerpts in the wonderful new Penguin series “Great Food”. Here is the opening of one of her recipes:
To dress a Turtle the West India Way
Take the turtle out of water the night before you dress it, and lay it on its back, in the morning cut its head off, and hang it by its hind-fins for it to bleed till the blood is all out.
They didn’t feel sentimental about the living creatures who provide us with food in those days, did they? Glasse didn’t have Marmite, but aged and yeasty flavour enhancers go back to the Romans. Many of the recipes collected by Apicius (c. AD 350-400) contain a dash of garum, for example, which was a universal condiment made of the fermented innards of oily fish such as tuna and mackerel. I doubt whether those people who think Marmite is too pungent would care for garum much, either.
From the times:
New Zealand attacks Denmark over ban on marmite
May 26, 2011 6:55 AM | By Sapa-dpa
A New Zealand food industry executive appealed to the government to challenge Denmark over an import ban on Kiwis' favourite breakfast spread, Marmite.
It's hard to think of anything else Denmark has done in the last 50 years which has simultaneously annoyed citizens of New Zealand, Great Britain, Australia, South Africa - countries where people are hugely loyal to breakfast brands like Marmite and Vegemite
The industry was "incredulous at Denmark's bizarre decision" to make Marmite illegal under food safety laws, Katherine Rich, chief executive of the New Zealand Food & Grocery Council, said in a statement on Thursday.
Marmite, a sticky yeast extract first made in England in 1902, has been made in New Zealand since 1919. A food writer noted recently, "Marmite is undoubtedly part of Kiwi culture - generations have been raised to eat it on toast, with cheese and crackers or between bread with a slice of lettuce or a handful of chips."
Reportedly first devised by a German chemist named Justus von Liebig, Marmite is said to be one of the world's richest sources of B vitamins, containing five of them - Thiamin, Riboflavin, Niacin, Folate and B12.
The Guardian newspaper in Britain reported this week that imports of Marmite, along with its Australian equivalent Vegemite and the beverages Ovaltine and Horlicks had been banned under laws prohibiting products fortified with added vitamins.
"This weird law is not based on science, common sense or any issue remotely linked to food safety, factors which underpin New Zealand's approach to food safety regulation," Rich said.
"It's hard to think of anything else Denmark has done in the last 50 years which has simultaneously annoyed citizens of New Zealand, Great Britain, Australia, South Africa - countries where people are hugely loyal to breakfast brands like Marmite and Vegemite.
"What obviously started as the bright idea of a misguided Danish official has now made Denmark an international laughing stock, no doubt creating a headache for their foreign affairs diplomats."
Rich said that with all the other serious challenges for customs officials and border security presented by illicit drugs trade or terrorism, surely Danish regulators had more pressing priorities than expending resources on cross-border Marmite smuggling by expatriate New Zealanders and young people on their overseas experience travels.
Lyndsay Jensen, a Yorkshire-born graphic designer in Copenhagen, told The Guardian she would defy the ban and import supplies from Britain
"If they want to take my Marmite off me, they'll have to wrench it from my cold dead hands," she said.
from the net
Ex Danish police chief warns Marmite ban plays into the hands of criminal gangs
When it comes to Marmite – that briny yeast extract fed to British children – there's truth in advertising. “Love it or hate it,” the slogan goes. But in Denmark, shoppers may no longer have the choice. Protests are brewing in reaction to a Marmite ban ...
Sales of Marmite, a dark and sticky substance usually eaten on toast, were halted by the Danish Ministry of Food, Agriculture and Fisheries because it violated regulations over vitamin-fortified produce. Naturally, the social networks are going wild. ...
Marmite fans are calling for a boycott of Danish exports as a backlash against a ban. Yesterday it emerged the yeast paste had been outlawed in Denmark because it fell foul of a 2004 ban on unapproved foods ...
Following yesterday's news that the Danish authorities had deprived Brit expats of their favourite yeast-based nourishment, the country's London embassy has seen fit to clarify the position vis-à-vis Marmite...
First it was Vegemite, then it was Ovaltine - now the Danish government has banned importing New Zealand's beloved breakfast spread, Marmite. The Kiwi favourite has been outlawed by legislation that prohibits products fortified with added vitamins, ...
Marmite is off the table in Denmark and that's got New Zealand foodies(A foodie is a food fantatic)up in arms. It's been banned along with Vegemite, because they both have added vitamins and breach food safety laws. The yeast spread has been a Kiwi icon since ...
It's hard to think of anything else Denmark has done in the last 50 years which has simultaneously annoyed citizens of New Zealand, Great Britain, Australia, South Africa - countries where people are hugely loyal to breakfast brands like Marmite and Vegemite 
