Morning music
On the blog 3 years ago
On the blog 2 years ago
On the blog 1 year ago
Another interesting “Matt and Julia” vlog about “the real Iran” (and a few memories of my own)
Persian food can be very nice indeed. I often recall the food prepared by a Persian lady in London, cooked as a kindness for a friend of mine (and hers), an aristocratic lady from East Prussia displaced by both the Second World War and the decolonizing nonsense in the East Africa of the 1950s.
That Persian food was sent across the road, via one of the Persian lady’s adult sons, packed in takeaway-type foil containers. Fantastic stuff.
As to those Persians, they had a lucky escape. The father of the family had been an MP in Iran, was I think strongly connected to the Shah, and had been hanged after the Shah had been deposed. The family lost pretty much everything in Iran, but the lady herself was allowed to leave thanks to some kind of family influence. Fortunately, her two sons were both students at Imperial College in London. A flat in Little Venice had been bought as somewhere for them to live while studying. That became the home for the three of them and their little cat.
Of course, a mansion flat in Little Venice is hardly poverty (the pop group, Bros, were their nearest neighbours), but back in Iran they had had rural estates (near Shiraz, I think) and numbers of servants.
Nice people. They thought that my German friend, by then in her 60s, ate too little, and should be encouraged to eat. They were right: my old friend could not cook, and tended to subsist on bread (she liked, ironically, a Jewish bread with caraway seeds, bought locally), eaten with butter and a lot of salt, and washed down with lemon tea or sparkling water.
I still remember how nice the Persian food, cooked by that Persian lady, was. My friend used to share it with me, if I were around when it was delivered.
Small world: I was dining at the Persians’ one evening, for the first and last time in fact, in company with both my
German friend and her young (20-something) step-grand-daughter, when the subject of the contemporaneous Darius Guppy trial came up [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darius_Guppy]. The Persian family had known Guppy as a small boy, Guppy being half-Persian; the Persian lady referred to him as having been “a nice boy”.
Many years later, about 24 years in fact, in 2017, I gave a half-hour political-legal talk at the then-popular London Forum. Afterwards, who should come to to me and introduce himself but Darius Guppy. A personable fellow, who had the interesting knack of being able to appear as if from nowhere, then later disappear the same way…
I did not of course refer to his 1993 trial and imprisonment, but I did tell him about the Persians with whom I had been acquainted and who knew Guppy through having known his mother, a folk singer who was involved with a film that won an Oscar; I once owned one of her albums. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shusha_Guppy.
I mentioned to Guppy that, as an Amazon Top 50 reviewer, I had once reviewed his interesting memoirs, Roll the Dice, on Amazon (that being before the Jew-Zionist lobby had my very popular reviews expunged).
Guppy is or was a great friend of “Boris-idiot” (Boris Johnson), via their Eton and Oxford days.
As said, small world.
Tweets seen
https://twitter.com/i/trending/2113176314241040460
What?! [Israeli] Jews, “parasites“? Surely not…
All the crates are designated as “Apple”, which is an unlikely description (particularly looking at the nuclear hazard symbols)…
SS-Ahnenerbe.
Melenchon’s supporters and voters are mostly like him— not really French.
British political life, as mediated by the msm, is just a bad joke. Are we expected to take the rote-learned mantras of monkeys-on-sticks as something serious?
Excellent.
