The five things meme
Aug. 14th, 2009 12:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tree_and_leaf"Five things or favourite things or whatever about Peter and Bunter"
- Bunter reprising his speech to the servants' hall in Busman's Honeymoon, somewhat inhibited by the presence of his lordship and her ladyship.
- Peter and Bunter nearly drown in the bog in Clouds of Witness. It's very rare to see them both out of their depths at the same time...
- Bunter taking the polish off a table with the hot tray when "his lordship just told me to take away those damned eggs and bring him some sausages." (Edited for brain fail).
- Honeymoon! Peter decides to leave the tom cat yowling outside the window in peace. Five minutes later "Bunter, prompted by god-knows-what savage stirrings, flung his boot at it." (or words to that effect).
- "'Bloody little fool' said Sergeant Butler, affectionately." (and the whole preceding shell-shock scene in Whose Body? You see Bunter's competence, kindness and knowledge of Peter, and Peter's total trust of him).
Five Favourite Whiskies
Port Ellen 1979. This is the best whisky I have ever tasted - smoky and complex. "Tasted" is the word, as it costs something like £300 a bottle; someone bought me a dram of it for my birthday once. Probably the best present I've had for some years...
Highland Park 18 y.o. A very good whisky indeed. The 12 y.o. isn't bad either, but the 18 y.o. has an extra mellow depth. Bonus trivia: Highland Park is Andy Dalziel's favourite whisky. And whatever you think of the Fat Man, his taste in whisky's impeccable. (Which is to say it's my favourite whisky, at least as an all round, every-day whisky goes; there are other times where a different whisky suits your mood better, but you can never go wrong with Highland Park).
Balvennie Double Wood. Some of the special wood finish ones are a bit gimmicky (c.f. the port-wood Glenmorangie), but this one's rather nice.
Bunnahabhain Darach Úr. Aged in new oak, unchillfiltered. The first time I tried this, I didn't like it at all, but it's grown on me. Also, writing Bunnahabhain reminds me of the Prattchett joke about the difficulty of stopping spelling bannana.
Scapa Flow 14 y.o. I like my Orcadian whiskies :)
Anglo-Catholics
- John Keble.
- Charlotte M Yonge.
- Austin Farrer.
- Edward King, Bp of Lincoln.
- Michael Ramsay, Archbp of Canterbury (and author of an extremely inspiring book on the priesthood).
The Swallows and Amazons books!
I've taken this as 'favourite moments'.
- The sequence in which Titty realises she can dowse, is terrified by it and - helped by Nancy's surprising sensitivity - overcomes her fear to find water in Pigeon Post
- "A pigeon a day keeps the natives away." Like "Grab a chance when you've got it, and you won't be sorry for what might have been," these are words to live by.
- Titty wakes up and goes on deck, the first morning they are moored off the treasure island in Peter Duck. It's just such a beautiful bit of descriptive writing.
- "It would be unkind to draw Nancy's pumpkin face."
- Cdr Walker's reaction to meeting the Swallows in Flushing, from the pierhead jump to the calm way he takes the story and sorts everything out. Best father in children's literature (though actually, now I come to think of it, there's not all that much competition...)
I still want to write the fic in which Nancy works for SOE. She'd be a natural.
Star Trek canon
(I've interpreted this as 'favourite moments of canon'. Though actually - how can you just pick five?)
- "You've never experienced Shakespeare till you've read him in the original Klingon." Star Trek VI and the Diplomatic Dinner from Hell. I didn't know whether to go for this or for Chang (the wonderfully uninhibited Christopher Plummer) quoting "Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!" If you think the Klingon enthusiasm for Shakespeare is a bit improbable - well, they're evidently a poetic race. And there is a certain precedent in the romantic German cult of 'unser Shakespeare'....
- "I can't believe you hit Sir Lancelot!" "He kissed me! And I was playing a married woman!"... Kira, whose moral standards are stronger than her acquaintance with Arthurian legend, storms out of the holosuite in full pseudo-mediaeval fancy dress. Only to meet Worf for the first time, who comments, somewhat lamely, "Nice hat."
- "Are you saying I've got to wait till I've died before we can have a conversation about what death is like?" "Yes." McCoy tries to get Spock to discuss the afterlife, ST: IV. One of Star Trek's better bits of metaphysics (as opposed to the 'Why would God need a starship?' conversation in ST:V, which only an atheist could think was proof that the pseudo-God entity wasn't God. As opposed to the whole mind-control and kidnapping thing, which I personally would have regarded as stronger evidence).
- A Piece of the Action, i.e. The One Where Jim, Spock, and Bones beam down to the gangster planet. It's crack, but it's such good crack. I particularly love the Fizzbin Scene, which is more or less the equivalent of breaking out of jail with the aid of Mornington Crescent. (It also doesn't hurt that Leonard Nimoy really rocks the fedora, suit and Vulcan make-up combination...)
- "Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra"
Top five historical figures who either have appeared or should appear on Doctor Who
- Thomas More. I think this would be quite, quite, brilliant.
- Wolfram von Eschenbach. Because I am a shameless fangirl (I think that the Sängerwettstreit on the Wartburg would actually be an awesome setting for a Doctor Who story. You could bring Klinsor the magician - or Sekrit Alien! - into it, too)*
- Mary Queen of Scots. Possibly explaining that what actually happened to Bothwell at the Kirk o' Field was somewhat more complicated, and perhaps involved clockwork robots as well as Darnley.
- Jane Austen.
- Richard Burton. The explorer/ diplomat/ rogue, not the actor.
* There's a vernacular life of S Elisabeth of Thüringia which maintains that Klingsor was there - and prophesied her birth - so there...
five favourite saints
- Elisabeth of Thuringia. Partly this is just a result of the fact that we have some fairly genuine eye-witness accounts of Elisabeth which have not been through the hagiographic sausage machine (er, if you know what I mean), but she does come over as a vivid and attractive personality, to an unusual extent. I like her for her passionate concern for justice and the marginalised (she had a concept analagous to fair trade, which shows a keener eye for the wider patterns of society than you might expect in the thirteenth century) and, which makes a great change for the general run of mediaeval hagiography, she and her husband seem to have been genuinely and passionately in love with each other (her in-laws-to-be went off the idea of the marriage after her father's powerbase crumbled, but Ludwig seems to have insisted that he would marry her or no-one, and apparently she used to annoy the court by running out to meet him when he returned from journeys, and they used to talk to each other at feasts, which is apparently a breach of protocol); and she battled, eventually mostly successfully, to lead a life of practical charity and poverty (though it might have helped if she'd learned to cook first; she ran a hospital, but while everyone agreed she was very good with children, she had an annoying habit of burning the soup). I like Elisabeth; too often saints come across as cardboard cut-outs (which I think is the fault of the hagiographers, not the saints), but she feels like a real person. The story about the miraculous basket of roses isn't authentically part of her legend, though, but belongs to Elizabeth of Portugal, and it's rather unfair to Ludwig that it got attached to her, as it's impossible to believe that he would have threatened to beat her for giving food to the poor.
- Dominic. I had a vocation experience connected with reading the life of Dominic, and the account of him as, basically, a frustrated grad student, so I possibly over-identify. Also, he did theology down the pub (the story of his first dialogue with, and conversion of, a Cathar, took place in an inn, while there's a miracle story about him providing wine for a convent of nuns). Anyway, I like the Dominicans: the commitment to good theology as preached and practiced outside academia, the concern with social justice, and the bad puns.
- Julian of Norwich. Admittedly, she's not been canonised by the Roman Church, but she is in the Anglican calendar, deservedly. A wonderfully perceptive, loving, sane, theological writer with an absolute focus on God's love, and a very positive attitude to creation and to humanity. (As always, I am keen on people with a strong focus on the Incarnation and an attitude to the body which is not one of hatred and fear).
- Wilfred. Even if this is probably unduly influenced by Kipling. The Church of England could do with some more tough bishops who get on well with people outside the church, I feel.
- Mary Magdalen. No, she wasn't the woman taken in adultery, and she wasn't the woman who anointed Jesus either. She was obviously a close friend and supporter of Jesus and, above all, she was the 'apostle of the apostles' and the first witness of the resurrection. Which is quite enough to make her worth celebrating (and a good precedent for the ministry of women, incidentally).
- Bunter reprising his speech to the servants' hall in Busman's Honeymoon, somewhat inhibited by the presence of his lordship and her ladyship.
- Peter and Bunter nearly drown in the bog in Clouds of Witness. It's very rare to see them both out of their depths at the same time...
- Bunter taking the polish off a table with the hot tray when "his lordship just told me to take away those damned eggs and bring him some sausages." (Edited for brain fail).
- Honeymoon! Peter decides to leave the tom cat yowling outside the window in peace. Five minutes later "Bunter, prompted by god-knows-what savage stirrings, flung his boot at it." (or words to that effect).
- "'Bloody little fool' said Sergeant Butler, affectionately." (and the whole preceding shell-shock scene in Whose Body? You see Bunter's competence, kindness and knowledge of Peter, and Peter's total trust of him).
Five Favourite Whiskies
Port Ellen 1979. This is the best whisky I have ever tasted - smoky and complex. "Tasted" is the word, as it costs something like £300 a bottle; someone bought me a dram of it for my birthday once. Probably the best present I've had for some years...
Highland Park 18 y.o. A very good whisky indeed. The 12 y.o. isn't bad either, but the 18 y.o. has an extra mellow depth. Bonus trivia: Highland Park is Andy Dalziel's favourite whisky. And whatever you think of the Fat Man, his taste in whisky's impeccable. (Which is to say it's my favourite whisky, at least as an all round, every-day whisky goes; there are other times where a different whisky suits your mood better, but you can never go wrong with Highland Park).
Balvennie Double Wood. Some of the special wood finish ones are a bit gimmicky (c.f. the port-wood Glenmorangie), but this one's rather nice.
Bunnahabhain Darach Úr. Aged in new oak, unchillfiltered. The first time I tried this, I didn't like it at all, but it's grown on me. Also, writing Bunnahabhain reminds me of the Prattchett joke about the difficulty of stopping spelling bannana.
Scapa Flow 14 y.o. I like my Orcadian whiskies :)
Anglo-Catholics
- John Keble.
- Charlotte M Yonge.
- Austin Farrer.
- Edward King, Bp of Lincoln.
- Michael Ramsay, Archbp of Canterbury (and author of an extremely inspiring book on the priesthood).
The Swallows and Amazons books!
I've taken this as 'favourite moments'.
- The sequence in which Titty realises she can dowse, is terrified by it and - helped by Nancy's surprising sensitivity - overcomes her fear to find water in Pigeon Post
- "A pigeon a day keeps the natives away." Like "Grab a chance when you've got it, and you won't be sorry for what might have been," these are words to live by.
- Titty wakes up and goes on deck, the first morning they are moored off the treasure island in Peter Duck. It's just such a beautiful bit of descriptive writing.
- "It would be unkind to draw Nancy's pumpkin face."
- Cdr Walker's reaction to meeting the Swallows in Flushing, from the pierhead jump to the calm way he takes the story and sorts everything out. Best father in children's literature (though actually, now I come to think of it, there's not all that much competition...)
I still want to write the fic in which Nancy works for SOE. She'd be a natural.
Star Trek canon
(I've interpreted this as 'favourite moments of canon'. Though actually - how can you just pick five?)
- "You've never experienced Shakespeare till you've read him in the original Klingon." Star Trek VI and the Diplomatic Dinner from Hell. I didn't know whether to go for this or for Chang (the wonderfully uninhibited Christopher Plummer) quoting "Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!" If you think the Klingon enthusiasm for Shakespeare is a bit improbable - well, they're evidently a poetic race. And there is a certain precedent in the romantic German cult of 'unser Shakespeare'....
- "I can't believe you hit Sir Lancelot!" "He kissed me! And I was playing a married woman!"... Kira, whose moral standards are stronger than her acquaintance with Arthurian legend, storms out of the holosuite in full pseudo-mediaeval fancy dress. Only to meet Worf for the first time, who comments, somewhat lamely, "Nice hat."
- "Are you saying I've got to wait till I've died before we can have a conversation about what death is like?" "Yes." McCoy tries to get Spock to discuss the afterlife, ST: IV. One of Star Trek's better bits of metaphysics (as opposed to the 'Why would God need a starship?' conversation in ST:V, which only an atheist could think was proof that the pseudo-God entity wasn't God. As opposed to the whole mind-control and kidnapping thing, which I personally would have regarded as stronger evidence).
- A Piece of the Action, i.e. The One Where Jim, Spock, and Bones beam down to the gangster planet. It's crack, but it's such good crack. I particularly love the Fizzbin Scene, which is more or less the equivalent of breaking out of jail with the aid of Mornington Crescent. (It also doesn't hurt that Leonard Nimoy really rocks the fedora, suit and Vulcan make-up combination...)
- "Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra"
Top five historical figures who either have appeared or should appear on Doctor Who
- Thomas More. I think this would be quite, quite, brilliant.
- Wolfram von Eschenbach. Because I am a shameless fangirl (I think that the Sängerwettstreit on the Wartburg would actually be an awesome setting for a Doctor Who story. You could bring Klinsor the magician - or Sekrit Alien! - into it, too)*
- Mary Queen of Scots. Possibly explaining that what actually happened to Bothwell at the Kirk o' Field was somewhat more complicated, and perhaps involved clockwork robots as well as Darnley.
- Jane Austen.
- Richard Burton. The explorer/ diplomat/ rogue, not the actor.
* There's a vernacular life of S Elisabeth of Thüringia which maintains that Klingsor was there - and prophesied her birth - so there...
five favourite saints
- Elisabeth of Thuringia. Partly this is just a result of the fact that we have some fairly genuine eye-witness accounts of Elisabeth which have not been through the hagiographic sausage machine (er, if you know what I mean), but she does come over as a vivid and attractive personality, to an unusual extent. I like her for her passionate concern for justice and the marginalised (she had a concept analagous to fair trade, which shows a keener eye for the wider patterns of society than you might expect in the thirteenth century) and, which makes a great change for the general run of mediaeval hagiography, she and her husband seem to have been genuinely and passionately in love with each other (her in-laws-to-be went off the idea of the marriage after her father's powerbase crumbled, but Ludwig seems to have insisted that he would marry her or no-one, and apparently she used to annoy the court by running out to meet him when he returned from journeys, and they used to talk to each other at feasts, which is apparently a breach of protocol); and she battled, eventually mostly successfully, to lead a life of practical charity and poverty (though it might have helped if she'd learned to cook first; she ran a hospital, but while everyone agreed she was very good with children, she had an annoying habit of burning the soup). I like Elisabeth; too often saints come across as cardboard cut-outs (which I think is the fault of the hagiographers, not the saints), but she feels like a real person. The story about the miraculous basket of roses isn't authentically part of her legend, though, but belongs to Elizabeth of Portugal, and it's rather unfair to Ludwig that it got attached to her, as it's impossible to believe that he would have threatened to beat her for giving food to the poor.
- Dominic. I had a vocation experience connected with reading the life of Dominic, and the account of him as, basically, a frustrated grad student, so I possibly over-identify. Also, he did theology down the pub (the story of his first dialogue with, and conversion of, a Cathar, took place in an inn, while there's a miracle story about him providing wine for a convent of nuns). Anyway, I like the Dominicans: the commitment to good theology as preached and practiced outside academia, the concern with social justice, and the bad puns.
- Julian of Norwich. Admittedly, she's not been canonised by the Roman Church, but she is in the Anglican calendar, deservedly. A wonderfully perceptive, loving, sane, theological writer with an absolute focus on God's love, and a very positive attitude to creation and to humanity. (As always, I am keen on people with a strong focus on the Incarnation and an attitude to the body which is not one of hatred and fear).
- Wilfred. Even if this is probably unduly influenced by Kipling. The Church of England could do with some more tough bishops who get on well with people outside the church, I feel.
- Mary Magdalen. No, she wasn't the woman taken in adultery, and she wasn't the woman who anointed Jesus either. She was obviously a close friend and supporter of Jesus and, above all, she was the 'apostle of the apostles' and the first witness of the resurrection. Which is quite enough to make her worth celebrating (and a good precedent for the ministry of women, incidentally).