Seems a long time since I’ve posted to any degree in the forum.
Even though I don’t “do” Christmas, it seems appropriate at this time of year to report in and wish you all the compliments of the season - whether you celebrate Christmas, New Year or Midwinter, or not at all. I still read the forum most days, and post now and again.
I’ve not given up riding, but events have conspired to keep me out of the saddle for 2 or 3 months now, and it looks like there’ll be no change for a while yet: I have a cracked rib from fencing, and will be out of action for at least another 2 or 3 weeks.
The swords are designed to bend in one particular direction so that they don’t hurt you. However, if the attacker has his hand at the wrong angle, or the er… unsuccessful defender is standing at an unlucky angle, the sword can bend the “wrong” way, which is bad for the sword.
In between these two extremes there is a “perfect” set of circumstances in which the sword can’t decide which way to bend, so it doesn’t. That means the entire force of the thrust is concentrated on a circle about 6 mm across, with no bend of the blade to absorb the shock.
It’s like having your chest walked on by a big woman in stilettos, but less fun.
Hope it’s not too long before your rib allows you to ride again. But if you don’t “do” Christmas, perhaps you’ll have the time to spread a little cheer with some more posts in your inimitable style.
(and we still do not have the final say on the pretentious reference:( )
Wow! That takes me back. I didn’t think anyone had picked up on that at all.
If I remember correctly, it was a pretentious reference to the unending war between Cadogan Square and Beasley St.
Cadogan Square is from a poem, “In Westminster Abbey” by Sir John Betjeman. It’s a common “set text” for Eng. Lit. so I thought some of you’d recognise it. The poem is about the hypocrisy of the self-satisfied middle classes, and takes the form of a middle class lady praying in Westminster abbey during the war. The specific reference is to the most damning piece of satire I know. I’ll quote the entire stanza:
Think of what our nation stands for
Books from Boots’ and country lanes
Free speech, free passes, class distinction,
Democracy and proper drains.
Lord, put beneath thy special care
One-eighty-nine Cadogan Square
Beasley St. is the title of a poem by punk poet, John Cooper Clarke. It describes the most awful street you can imagine where the underclass live in squalour and despair.
As I’m off work today with a cold (as well as the cracked rib ) I’ll see if I can find a link.
And here’s the pretentious reference from my earlier post:
<<A couple of hundred yards later, I come across the burning car. The Desert and parts of the forest are a popular dumping ground for stolen cars, and this one’s still burning spectacularly, with flames licking out from under the chassis and reaching up above the wings. It’s a depressing sight - another empty victory in the senseless war between Beasley Street and Cadogan Square. >>
I third that.
I’ve not tried anything relatively major (major for me anyway) either recently as I’m not seasoned enough to ride recreationally in the cold - I even admit that a couple of weeks ago I went to The Lookout at Swinley Forest and got back in the car without riding because it was too cold!
Glad to see that you’re still alive and kickin’. I was getting a bit worried. I too have missed your posts. Hell of a way to crack a rib. I thought fencing was relatively safe.
Seriously, it’s a pretty safe sport. A cracked rib can happen at any time: unicycling, fencing, a drunken fall, a comradely hug, laughing at one of my jokes…
Nice to read you again mike. Hope you get over that rib injury fairly soon and hit the wheel again.
Sarah
sorry about the Tim Hennman thing, I hadn’t spotted the poetry-I’m not nearly cultured enough.
And here’s me, the gentleman, taking care not to mention the culprit by name. And don’t worry, I have it on good authority that Sir John Betjeman couldn’t ride a unicycle.
) I’ll see if I can find a link.
And don’t worry, I have it on good authority that Sir John Betjeman couldn’t ride a unicycle.