An almost uncontainable gush of thoughts arrived soon after awaking this morning. I will try and organise them, starting with an observation and a joke.
Al Campbell made the point two days ago that this blog has layers. I know what he means, but not sure that I can – or want to – try and specify how they slot or weave together. There is very little control or design on my part.
Here’s the joke, from perhaps 45 years ago. John Madden says he thinks of this when listening to people attempting to complicate something simple.
A woman goes to the doctors. When asked about her complaint, she explains that her vagina makes a whistling sound every time that she opens her legs. This is causing problems in so many aspects of her life. The doctor asks her to demonstrate. The sound is rather beautiful, combining something like the sounds of very hi-tech machinery, a kettle coming to boil on a gas stove, and the relaxed sound of a labourer’s tune as he walks to his place of work on a sunny day.
The doctor has no clue, and so records the sound, in order to consult with an expert. At a leading gynaecological unit, a consultant listens repeatedly for five minutes. “To be honest, I have never encountered this phenomenon before,” she says. “If you had not told me the background, I would have assumed that this was a computer-generated sound, assembled by a specialist in the nuances of ambient music.”
Frustrated, the doctor then plays the sound to a friend who teaches a range of sciences at a local school. “It reminds me of childhood, and my auntie’s kettle at teatime,” comes the reply.
Really quite downcast now, the doctor walks home, perplexed at the lack of any answer. A bloke who has just finished work on a building site is removing his hard hat, and notices the doctor’s countenance. “You allright?” he enquires.
The doctor decides that a layman’s view might somehow help, and so plays the recording to the guy. “Do you have any idea what on earth this sound could be?” He cocks his head in concentration. “I dunno……..some cunt whistling?”
The Biscuit Factory 