Absolutely. I'm making a connection between the scandal of Grenfell and the scandal of Turkish buildings, related exactly to those public services being neglected and undervalued. — unenlightened

:up: I see your point now mate!

A general term which covers privatization, cuts in public services, and the like is "neoliberalism". It is perhaps most popular among conservatives, but some centrists like it too. Low taxes on the wealthy; privatized public services; wage cuts for the working classes; rugged individualism for those who need help (in other words, you are on your own). It's anti-government and pro-unfettered capitalism.

It's anti-government and pro-unfettered capitalism. — BC

:up: As is being confirmed, more and more, in the news from Turkey and Syria. Such 'unfettered capitalism,' international political intrigue, combined with pernicious theism, has again caused the unnecessary deaths of thousands of people.

I watched an interview with a Turkish civil engineer, who was involved in the construction of 17 mutlistorey residential properties. They were built in accordance with the earthquake guidelines, and not one of them collapsed. His mother was killed, as she lived in a building which did collapse, as it was not upgraded. He made the statement 'Bad buildings are killing more of us than the Earthquake.'

It matter's that this is said loudly, in pubs, clubs, bingo halls, cheese and wine parties, houses of commons, lords, senates etc, etc. Things might change then. If most people just let it fade away, and go back to making scones in their kitchen and focussing on ego sparring, then the chance for change will be lost again and we will simply wait for the next atrocity cause by 'unfettered capitalism.'
In the UK, if you don't already know, you can donate to the Turkey/Syria appeal at dec.org.uk

making scones in their kitchen — universeness

Well there it is. Scones are the root of the problem. I've never seen any justification for scones' existence. They aren't much better than what in the US is called a baking powder biscuit.

Things might change then. If most people just let it fade away, and go back to making scones in their kitchen and focussing on ego sparring, then the chance for change will be lost again and we will simply wait for the next atrocity cause by 'unfettered capitalism.' — universeness

The key to a quality scone is using very cold ingredients. You will want to freeze your butter and then use a cheese shredder to grate it. Use cold water for your dough, then mix in the frozen butter, but don't knead it too long or you'll melt it. Put it back in the freezer even after you've formed the ball for a while and then press it down to the proper shape and cut and bake it.

By leaving the small shreds of frozen butter within the dough, the final result is flakier and buttier as opposed to having melted butter throoughout.

Another key to this is to use dehydrated fruit (like cranberry or blueberry) or you can use nuts, but you don't want to use something with too much moisture or it will make the area surrounding the fruit soggy.

The key to a quality scone is using very cold ingredients. You will want to freeze your butter and then use a cheese shredder to grate it. Use cold water for your dough, then mix in the frozen butter, but don't knead it too long or you'll melt it. Put it back in the freezer even after you've formed the ball for a while and then press it down to the proper shape and cut and bake it.
— Hanover

Are you that blonde lady from the food channel?

As representative examples of TPF members, we would like to know how many pieces of kitsch you own. Just in case you don't know, kitsch = a low-brow style of mass-produced art or design using popular or cultural icons. There's nothing wrong with being low-brow; there's nothing wrong with kitsch. Every society has kitsch -- even the Neanderthals had low-brow stuff sitting around their caves.

I admit to kitsch.



If you possess now, or have ever possessed, a black velvet portrait of Elvis [or something like it] or a little Manneken Pis (pissing boy) statue from Brussels, you are qualified to participate in this discussion. The gates of kitsch are wide -- they have to be in order to accommodate the extra large loads of things that will fascinate you -- being delivered to a store near you--RIGHT NOW.

As representative examples of TPF members, we would like to know how many pieces of kitsch you own. — BC

I have a lot of stuff around my house. I tend not to throw things away that might possibly be of use in the future. But nothing I would classify as kitsch. We don't have classy stuff, but what we do have us useful and comfortable. Maybe the closest I come is haphazard ad hoc collections of silver and silverplate flatware, glassware, and china. I showed some of them in the old "Beautiful Things" thread.

I just thought of something you might consider kitsch - I have quite a few aloha shirts that I've bought or been given over the years. Some of them are really beautiful. I love the way rayon feels when it drapes over my shoulders. I rarely wear them any more. I don't consider them kitsch at all, but you might.

My brow is so high I sometimes have trouble seeing over it, BC.

...aloha shirts... rayon — T Clark

Good god!

rarely wear them any more — T Clark

Mercifully.

Kitsch. But you don't have to throw them away. Once upon a time it cost a to of money to go to Hawaii and few proles ever did. Once upon a time, Hawaiian shirts were a piece of conspicuous consumption proving one could fly to Honolulu. These days all kinds of riff raff fly there, and you don't have to even leave town to obtain alohaha shirts.

BTW, the Germans suffered from Rayon during WWII. They didn't like it. You do, because of its high tensile modulus, dimensional stability, toughness, and adhesion. That's what engineers think about when they shop for aloha shirts.

My brow is so high I sometimes have trouble seeing over it — Noble Dust

Maybe you could do an in-service on style for T. Clark.

Kitsch was utterly destroyed in a recent earthquake, caused by a pub bore, throwing one of Hanover's freshly made scones on the pub floor, after licking it once. Thousand of complacents, all over the world, have been severely injured. Some even spilled their pina colada's

My mentor's philosophical area was Kitsch. Super interesting philosophical field, but I gravited elsewise.

...aloha shirts... rayon
— T Clark

Good god! — BC

As I noted, I don't consider Aloha shirts kitsch. And Rayon is wonderful.

As representative examples of TPF members, we would like to know how many pieces of kitsch you own. — BC

None, obviously. I am the epitome of downward mobility, and thus cannot afford kitsch. Why are all guilty pleasures of German origin? Kitsch, schadenfreude etc? I do have a wedding present of my parents A John Skeaping Wedgwood faun

But I don't think it qualifies. Otherwise, we have to make our own decorations, which makes them more folksy than kitschy. You know, patchwork curtains, and macrame plant holders. they might be kitsch if one bought them, but home made, aspire merely to "naff".

:heart:

Are you that blonde lady from the food channel? — frank

INo, I'm the fiery redhead from the porn channel. Easy mistake to make.

INo, I'm the fiery redhead from the porn channel. Easy mistake to make. — Hanover

I always assumed you are really Troy McClure. I remember you from such food posts as "Dried out anadama bread" and "White bread, ketchup, American cheese - Pizza!"

A small smattering of Hanoverian kitsch:






While T Clark describes his home as an embarrassing clutter of mismatched dishes and cracked coffee mugs, mine is an eclectic mix of curiosity and quirk.

mine is an eclectic mix of curiosity and quirk. — Hanover

I am at my grandmother's house. More curiosity and quirk:

@BC

Here's my favorite Aloha shirt. I don't wear it anymore because it's probably insensitive to indigenous people.



And while we're at it, here's a photo of some of my favorite flatware.



The larger spoon and fork are Rogers Brothers Oval Thread silverplate. The smaller spoon is sterling silver. It is the spoon which was in my mouth when I was born.

The piece on the right is Rogers, Wm. A.
.



The "DofH" caption references the Degree of Honor, a fraternal organization dating back to a post Civil War group, Ancient Order of United Workmen (AOUW). They were the first organization to offer insurance for workingmen. The "D of H" was the women's auxiliary of the AOUW. My parents belonged to the D of H. It was a social lodge organization, sort of like Eastern Star, Royal Neighbors, Masons, and a batch of other groups. They held dinners and dances--and had this flatware. The set was pretty beat up from long use before it came my way after my folks died.

The piece on the left is Target, 2019. I bought a few place settings of this, in case I had company for lunch; this hasn't happened yet. I can manage cooking for 1 or 2. Cooking for 3 would be too stressful.

Below is a piece of coal I picked up near Cumberland Falls, KY. Coal is hard to come by these days, especially polished coal. It has a very nice glossy texture.

I especially like the dog reading on its back. The literary cat is good too. If somebody breaks into your house and steals these two items, you'll know where to go for them.

Here's a poem which mentions the literary preferences of dogs and cats"

The Revenant by Billy Collins

I am the dog you put to sleep,
as you like to call the needle of oblivion,
come back to tell you this simple thing:
I never liked you – not one bit.

When I licked your face,
I thought of biting off your nose.
When I watched you toweling yourself dry,
I wanted to leap and unman you with a snap.

I resented the way you moved,
your lack of animal grace,
the way you would sit in a chair and eat,
a napkin on your lap, knife in your hand.

I would have run away,
but I was too weak, a trick you taught me
while I was learning to sit and heel,
and – greatest of insults – shake hands without a hand.

I admit the sight of the leash
would excite me
but only because it meant I was about
to smell things you had never touched.

You do not want to believe this,
but I have no reason to lie.
I hated the car, the rubber toys,
disliked your friends and, worse, your relatives.

The jingling of my tags drove me mad.
You always scratched me in the wrong place.
All I ever wanted from you
was food and fresh water in my metal bowls.

While you slept, I watched you breathe
as the moon rose in the sky.
It took all my strength
not to raise my head and howl.

Now I am free of the collar,
the yellow raincoat, monogrammed sweater,
the absurdity of your lawn,
and that is all you need to know about this place

except what you already supposed
and are glad it did not happen sooner –
that everyone here can read and write,
the dogs in poetry, the cats and the others in prose.

The coal might come in handy should the heat fail. Use it just before you start pulling floorboards to burn.

My aunt left me the silverware. It was engraved with the first letter of her last name, which was the same letter as mine. She chose me over my other siblings because she said I looked most like my mom, her favorite. That decision didn't divide our profound brotherly love, but instead just put me in charge of losing most of it.

My grandmother had many nick nacks on a shelf, which my brother destroyed when he ducked from the pillow I threw at his head. We were playing the throw grandma's pillows game. She let us play outside the next few hours while she glued everything back together.

I have about 20 clocks in my house, many antique. They gong on the hour and click loudly. Like heartbeats, there are a finite number of ticks. I like that constant reminder so that I will always remember to diligently post here, and not waste my ticks.

Did I mention it's raining here? Pitter patter pitter patter.

That decision didn't divide our profound brotherly love, but instead just put me in charge of losing most of it. — Hanover

Did you lose your brothers love or the silverware?

Did you lose your brothers love or the silverware? — Noble Dust

Nice ambiguity, but worry not, the Hanover clan remains tightly bound, despite the efforts of my spinster aunt to metaphorically cut and splice us with the treasured silverware.

Nothing little boys love more than heirloom silverware, but we persevered.

So is shooting down Unidentified Flying Objects such a good idea?

Cue theme from Close Encounters...

The piece on the right is Rogers, Wm. A. — BC

I like the spoon on the right a lot. It looks like it would feel good in my hand.

I'm considering becoming a subscriber solely so I can join in on posting pictures of cutlery.

I really like the poem. It will be an inspiration for pet owners everywhere.