busker

Seditionism

Doctor Johnson held that a man tired of London is tired of Life.

For me, the day I think for even a nano-second about linking to the Centaur of Seditionia - that'll be a sad day for my backbone and proof positive of my final caving in to my far-from-secret yearning for acceptance among the Bainbridge burgermeisters (more to the point, the meisterettes).

I have to read Ashley, or I'll turn into most of my family or even a strutting popinjay like myself.

And - frankly - how else would one ever be tipped off that something like "blog against racism" was even around? I'm now encouraged to look for a vanquisher of that sister bane, MultiCulturalism ....

But back to b.a.r., a noble link, not least for spotting of a gem of a McPherson doodle lampooning executive toys everywhere.

I shamefully missed this the first time round - so much for all my preening as monitor of all things rib-tickling - but have made up for lost laffs by instantly sharing with kith and comrades across the globe: Sai Wan to Sydney, Baguio to Battersea, Pisa to Paleocastritsa, Yorkshire Dales to Yaquina, and so endlessly forth.

Actually, the Yorkshire side of the family may have been a mistake: cousin Frank does in fact deal in just such exec fripperies mocked here, and if I know him he'll have his Shenzhen factory churning out plaqued McPherson miniatures before you can say "Where there's muck, there's brass."