My time in slave labour

I was just looking for a quote by Cato on the internet. First thing that came up: Cato women's apparel.

This is the one.

I have learned something today which I like to think I would never have known if I hadn't eneded up in a shop that sells clothes: it's not possible to tell a blouse from a women's t-shirt. The only variation is that some people are more proud in the ignorance that others.

Another bad thing about a placement: they don't let me leave early. At least at A4E they realised there was nothing for me to do and let me go early. It's all women at my placement, beside myself. A couple of old women of the type you might expect to find in a charity shop (either shopping or working), a woman apparently in her time off from Uni and two lairy northern managers. The managers are the only ones who get paid, so I'm very glad the Charity doesn't feel the need to stint on them. Can't have all that money being wasted on the needy, can we?

Thundercats. I used to have them on my wallpaper when I was young. The young woman there will now have them on her curtains, having commandeered a set.

90 day detention. Without charge, of course. Bunch of idiots, the government. Should be one day. At most. Don't arrest if you haven't got the evidence to charge them, if you've got the evidence you don't need 90 days. I know how they feel. 13 weeks is about 90 days.

Another blog.

I missed File on Four over the weekend. It looked like a good one. It's far better than Panorama, none of the sound and fury. Radio's better than TV, you know. My favourite was the one on the pathfinder inititative.

I have seen strange things, things which relate to me. People watching outside my window, for example. I mean just standing that. Kids, they were, a few years back. Just standing outside the window looking in, totally immobile. Didn't like it, I didn't. This area is a favourite of the horse slashers. And, of course, I once saw an inverted pentagram made of scaffolding poles at the side of a major road. I don't know why. There's a building near hear called Imperial Hall with a masonic "A" in both words. Square and compass.

I'm not big on poetry, barring WS Gilbert and the Great MacGonagall, but I like this:

FOR certain minutes at the least

That crafty demon and that loud beast

That plague me day and night

Ran out of my sight;

Though I had long perned in the gyre,

Between my hatred and desire.

I saw my freedom won

And all laugh in the sun.

The glittering eyes in a death’s head

Of old Luke Wadding’s portrait said

Welcome, and the Ormondes all

Nodded upon the wall,

And even Strafford smiled as though

It made him happier to know

I understood his plan.

Now that the loud beast ran

There was no portrait in the Gallery

But beckoned to sweet company,

For all men’s thoughts grew clear

Being dear as mine are dear.

But soon a tear-drop started up,

For aimless joy had made me stop

Beside the little lake

To watch a white gull take

A bit of bread thrown up into the air;

Now gyring down and perning there

He splashed where an absurd

Portly green-pated bird

Shook off the water from his back;

Being no more demoniac

A stupid happy creature

Could rouse my whole nature.

Yet I am certain as can be

That every natural victory

Belongs to beast or demon,

That never yet had freeman

Right mastery of natural things,

And that mere growing old, that brings

Chilled blood, this sweetness brought;

Yet have no dearer thought

Than that I may find out a way

To make it linger half a day.

O what a sweetness strayed

Through barren Thebaid,

Or by the Mareotic sea

When that exultant Anthony

And twice a thousand more

Starved upon the shore

And withered to a bag of bones!

What had the Caesars but their thrones?

Yes, I'm fond of that one. I prefer music, generally speaking. Lucy, by The Divine Comedy, for example. Good one, that. I like pictures too. A thousand words and change too. What now, then? I meant to say something about Nimrod and Tammuz, but it's a bit late now. Still, enjoy the above.