NO! This Is Not A Typo To Do With -
- that somewhat obscure 'Rock Follies' musical-drama from the late Seventies, which Conrad dimly remembers catching from the corner of his eye, as it wasn't really very street-cred in the age of punk. Art!
Knock yourself out.
ANYWAY we are back on the subject of architectural follies again, as the title may have led you to believe. Firstly, because of my sieve-like memory, I need to have a quick scan of where we'd gotten to last time. Old age and gin, old age and gin, I tell you they have a lot to answer for. Art
Behold! Another folly from Painshill Park - which Conrad has been mis-spelling as 'Painhill' - this one being the 'Vineyard'. What makes this a folly? O I thought you'd never ask! Well, can you imagine people trying to grow a vineyard here in This Sceptred Isle, which is not known for sunshine and viniculture? I cannot, but then I'm not a cockeyed optimist, unlike Hamilton the estate owner. He took the precaution of employing a French viniculturist whom performed minor miracles and made wine. Which may very well have included a hock. Art!
Art!
The Chinese bridge
Back to architectural rather than agricultural follies. This is the incorrectly-named 'Chinese Bridge', so-called because the side-bracing was thought to be Chinese. If you've not crossed this bridge already then you might never get the chance, as it was closed to the public in 2023: the bridge supports are seriously weakened thanks to time and British weather. Art!
Once you cross the Chinese Bridge, you are on Grotto Island, which is home to a - you may be ahead of me here - a grotto. This is an artificial cavern that was studded with various mineral crystals, all lit up by light reflecting off the lake. The Grotto did end up becoming grotty by the Second Unpleasantness, having lost all it's decorations. These were restored back in the Eighties but unless they've installed a pontoon bridge, you're just going to have to imagine them.
SCRATCH THAT - Art!
On the other side of Grotto Island is the 'Woollett Bridge', a copy of a bridge built in Northern Italy by Palladio, whom was almost worshipped by eighteenth century architects. Looks more like a perfectly sensible back up to the Chinese Bridge if you ask me. Art!
There is also a 5-arch bridge, which is so utterly dull compared to the other follies that this is all you get. Art!
Meet the Mausoleum, which shares with the 'Ruined Abbey' the distinction of being deliberately constructed as a ruin, and which originally sported sarcophagi and funerary urns, just to maintain a sombre atmosphere, aided by the planting of dark-leaved trees such as yew and cypress. Why you'd want a buzzkill building like this is known only to enterprising architects such as Hamilton and their pash for Graeco-Roman funeral construction. Art!
What does a hermit live in? Why, a Hermitage, of course. That's what you're looking at here: essentially a thatched hut that was off the grid even in the eighteenth century, never mind the twenty-first. There are two rooms: living room and bedroom. Art!
The hermit would need to be happy living without either electricity or running water, so no internet or poached eggs. Legend has it that Hamilton hired a hermit to live there, who only lasted three weeks before getting cabin fever and sneaking off to the local pub. Art!
Much better-appointed! The Gothic Tower, from atop which Hamilton could probably see his hired hermit sneaking out of the park. He originally used it as a verrrry large display case, exhibiting his sculpture collection. After restoration in the Eighties, the GT is now home to a Park Ranger during working hours. He must encounter the Hermitage whilst patrolling, and thank the lord that his County Council employers aren't penny-pinching misers content to stick him in a hut. Art!
Like several other follies, this is a modern recreation of the original Temple Of Bacchus, erected in 2018 after the original had been plundered of all it's component parts, which were either sold off or re-used in different parts of the estate. The original also collapsed in 1949. Art!
Last one, promise! You might be fooled into thinking that this 'tent' is a fabric structure: not a bit of it. It's a brick, wood, canvas and papier-mache replica of the original one, so possibly not the most resilient refuge in a rainstorm.
So! that's a whistle-stop tour of the follies present at Painshill Park. I've just saved you oodles of cash and time with my precis, and you're welcome.
More Ungentle Shoeing
From a professional, no less! Dr. John Ahrent, whom we have already mentioned in conjunction with a devastating assessment of how Mopey Dick The Orange Land Whale was experiencing dementia. He very aptly pointed out that Donnie Dorko is never seen walking to or into the Oval Office, the cameras only start rolling when he's already sitting down. Art!
Being able to sit down means Don Snoreleone can drift off when speeches get boring, which means whenever Pumpkinhead isn't talking about himself. Art!
Macron comes to the rescue of an elderly man who doesn't know where he is or where he's supposed to go. There was no team of bootlicking sycophants to crowd around DJ Tango and shepherd him in the right direction, so of course he simply heads off at random.
In other late-breaking news, his cheating and applying political pressure on the venal head of FIFA had no effect, the South Canadian ballfoot team were malletted by the Belgians. Ooops. Donold exercising his Sadim touch again.
A Life On The Ocean Grave
Unless you are the modern equivalent of Simeon Stylites and have been living atop a pillar for the past 36 months, you can hardly fail to have noticed - especially if you read the blog - that Krim is enduring a desperate fuel drought, thanks to the Ukrainians destroying road and rail bridges and creating transport bottlenecks, and also attacking anything hauling fuel. Art!
The orcs are desperate enough to try sending 8 small fuel tankers across the Sea Of Azov to resupply Krim with fuel. Alas, Babylon, the Kozaky were one step ahead of them and hit all of them with drones - the one above is a Firepoint as they are the models that use green targeting data. A kind of underlining that the Ruffian merchant navy only operates at the whim and discretion of Kyiv. It's a good job that Aksyonov, the puppet governor of Krim, is already going bald, or he'd be tearing his thatch out by the roots. Art!
Also, one of the Tweeters on 'Chuck Pfarrer's Twitter thread hit the nail on the head.
Another What On Earth? Moment
This one came up in the primary news feed, not as an Item along the sidebars amongst other nonsensical articles, meaning that the system thinks it's positively mainstream. Right? Art!
Wow! I never knew my life was suffering from an absence of 3-pole circuit breakers, and most especially ones from Schneider! How could I have been so blind!
No, that's irony. Conrad can live perfectly well without Schneider 3-Pole circuit breakers. Just to be clear.
Treating Them Gingerly
Conrad has recently, in a fit of frothiness, decided to make a quart of ginger beer, for the first time ever. The recipe required a couple of pints of water, brown sugar, lemon juice and six ounces of grated ginger, which makes the basic ginger drink; then one adds one-eighth of a teaspoon of yeast to ferment the sugar and leave fr a couple of days to develop. Art!
I have found that, once you crack the cap seal to let excess gas out, all the CO₂ in solution suddenly froths up, making for a brief experience unless you want a bath in ginger beer. Conrad needs to taste and see what it's like BUT only a shot glass, for it now has alcohol content and I've no idea how strong or weak it may be.
Finally -
Going out with a Biercism
"Battle,n: A method of untying with the teeth a political knot that would not yield to the tongue."
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