A picture for Oerdin - looking Gayer

[molly bloom]

I got an intelligent answer on the first try at my own place.

I honestly don't know what the answer is- but I recall from my first year at grammar school that there were definite music cliques- the heavier metallic tendency looked down their noses at anything that couldn't make their ears bleed and would warble on ad infinitum about Deep Purple bootlegs and which Sabs' album was the greatest and whether or not Led Zepp should officially release a single in the United Kingdom... and they also directe dmuch scorn at anyone (like me) who didn't have past the shoulder hair or an interest in Tony Iommi's guitar playing.

That said, I sneered right back at the unwashed loons, fiercely cherishing my Kraftwerk and Bowie and Eno albums.

And don't get me started on the tribal nature of football supporters...

[Sava]

grammar school

YOU PROBABLY LEARNED SOME MATH THERE TOO

[molly bloom]

The Surma woman is disturbing. But she could fit my sack in her mouth, so I'll allow it.

Modesty becomes you. Feeling horny ?

[Sava]

Almost always.

[molly bloom]

YOU PROBABLY LEARNED SOME MATH THERE TOO

We call it arithmetic and mathematics over here, you rude colonial.

Grammar schools :

As well as offering a conducted tour of the world of "Oxford English" in the past half-century, and reassembling the materials from which a particular literary sensibility was forged, John Carey's autobiography is a defence of the modern education system's least fashionable redoubt: the grammar school. This apologia starts as early as the fourth paragraph, where Carey suggests that the blame for Oxbridge's "utterly disproportionate" public school entry "lies with those who destroyed the grammar schools". Had selective state education survived, Carey argues, it would by now "have all but eliminated the public school contingent at Oxford and Cambridge, with far-reaching effects on our society".

As a long-term observer of the average public school's instinct for self‑preservation, I have my doubts about this. Nevertheless, the brand of class warfare practised by the former Merton professor of English literature turns out to hinge on the admission to Oxford of clever children from grammar schools. As a young don at Keble – a hotbed of reaction where underqualified Etonian rowers were smuggled in through the back gate to bump up the college's chances on the river – he made a point of writing to non-public school English masters in a bid to acquire fresh talent. If The Unexpected Professor has a bogey-figure it is Anthony Crosland, the Labour education secretary who began the anti-selection putsch of the 1960s.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/mar/07/problem-grammar-schools-selective-education

Where I received an ejjikashen :



The old school :

[Buster Crabbe's Uncle]

Well lookithat; molly is OLD SCHOOL.

[molly bloom]

Well lookithat; molly is OLD SCHOOL.

The top one is where I attended, the bottom one was founded by Queen Isabella as part of her penitence for having her husband removed from his throne.

Quite how long the School has been in existence is a matter of conjecture. Early last century April 7th used to be marked as Founder’s Day, that being the date of Thomas Wheatley’s Gift to the School in 1563. To regard that as the founding of Bablake, however, is a gross simplification of history.

There seems to be some justification for arguing that the School is much older than that. In 1344 Queen Isabella, a widow of Edward II, gave land at ‘Babbelak’ for the building of the original St John’s (or Bablake) Church.

This may well have been an act of expiation for her involvement in her husband’s death. It would seem that both Isabella and Edward were more interested in other men than in each other. It is probable that a ‘college’ was added to the Church at any early date. Certainly the great academic historian A F Leach lists Bablake School as already in existence in 1364. This may have been established on additional land granted by the Black Prince.

The ‘Old’ Bablake School in Hill Street is generally agreed to date from very early in the sixteenth century. It is thought that the School was suppressed under the Chantries Act in 1548. Certainly in 1560 it was reopened by the City with forty-one boys in attendance. The School was mostly dependent on charitable gifts until 1563, when Thomas Wheatley, who had been Mayor of Coventry in 1556, endowed it with much of his estate. The story of what prompted him to do so is an extraordinary one. Wheatley had ordered some steel wedges from Spain. He received by mistake in their place a chest of silver ingots. Being an honourable man and unable to discover to whom this cargo rightly belonged, Wheatley decided not to profit from the mistake himself but to give to the needy. The School of this time committed itself to giving free board, clothing and education to poor boys who were to become apprentices.

http://www.bablake.com/general_page.php?page=history

[Buster Crabbe's Uncle]

I honestly don't know what the answer is- but I recall from my first year at grammar school that there were definite music cliques- the heavier metallic tendency looked down their noses at anything that couldn't make their ears bleed and would warble on ad infinitum about Deep Purple bootlegs and which Sabs' album was the greatest and whether or not Led Zepp should officially release a single in the United Kingdom... and they also directe dmuch scorn at anyone (like me) who didn't have past the shoulder hair or an interest in Tony Iommi's guitar playing.

That said, I sneered right back at the unwashed loons, fiercely cherishing my Kraftwerk and Bowie and Eno albums.

And don't get me started on the tribal nature of football supporters...

Tribalism. Interesting; I think that's definitely in play here.



I almost forgot to post something for gribbler before I went to bed.

[Dinner]

Alright. I think you are obsessed.

[Sava]

Buster's Uncle is the creepiest polytubby.

[Buster Crabbe's Uncle]

And you're named after ointment.

[Sava]

or an orthodox saint

but whatever

i actually have a mini-collection of swag from businesses, companies, and products named "Sava"

[Buster Crabbe's Uncle]

Ointment.

[Bugs ****ing Bunny]

He might be named after it, but you'd keep her in a pit and order her to apply that same ointment to her skin.

[Buster Crabbe's Uncle]

Nah, I'd build her a really nice sex dungeon. She'd waste away in a pit.