Slumber Not, Pilgrim

From Milton Mole’s personal collection:

Paul the Mighty Octopus Oracle

Mr. Crumpet is understandably disappointed that The Netherlands did not emerge victorious in the 2010 World Cup. Still, congratulations to the men in orange for a great tournament!

However Mr. Crumpet and Orange Bear are both in awe of Paul the Mighty Octopus Oracle (or “Pulpo Paul” as he is known in Spain), who not only correctly predicted Spain’s win but was eight-for-eight in his predictions during this year’s World Cup. The Weymouth-born cephalopod resides in Oberhausen, Germany, but perhaps should consider taking his act to Delphi.

“I shall never say a cutting word about an octopus again,” declares Orange Bear.

We’re Still Here

Yes, Virginia, we really are still here. Here’s Milton’s Musical Clip of the Week (or last four months, as the case may be).

No Worries

Mr. Crumpet doesn’t know anything about Travelers, but he likes this commercial.

From the What Can’t Elephants Do? Files

Remember elephant polo? (Of course you do. They certainly haven’t forgotten.) Well, now there’s elephant music.

Five the Elephant, a resident of the West Midlands Safari Park in Worcestershire, has became an avid harmonica player. She entertains company by tooting out tunes on a flashy silver harmonica with her (clearly very talented) trunk.

“If she starts touring, I hope she makes it to our neck of the woods,” says Mr. Crumpet. “She’s got a bright future ahead of her.”

Orange Bear grumbles darkly, but then his early attempts to play the trombone were, shall we say, traumatic.

Watch the euphonious elephony here.

Powerful Whiskers

As Orange Bear continues to labor in obscurity on his encyclopedic and comprehensive study of facial hair, he has come across a creature that rivals the Markhor in hirsute magnificence.

That would be the Bornean Bearded Pig. True to its name, the Bearded Pig possesses rather bushy whiskers that make it resemble the mutton-chopped likes of Jules Ferry, Chester A. Arthur (below), and a whole host of now forgotten political figures from the 19th century.

“The Bornean Bearded Pig,” declares Orange Bear, “shall not be forgotten.”

“At the Zoo”

In the Crumpet household, summer brings with it hazy, somnolent memories of days spent at the beach, taffy, large bugs, penny-farthings, people-watching, and fried chocolate bars. And catching up with old friends.

There are lions and roaring tigers,
and enormous camels and things,
There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons,
and a great big bear with wings.
There’s a sort of a tiny potamus,
and a tiny nosserus too —
But I gave buns to the elephant
when I went down to the Zoo!

There are badgers and bidgers and bodgers,
and a Super-in-tendent’s House,
There are masses of goats, and a Polar,
and different kinds of mouse,
And I think there’s a sort of a something
which is called a wallaboo —
But I gave buns to the elephant
when I went down to the Zoo!

If you try to talk to the bison,
he never quite understands;
You can’t shake hands with a mingo —
he doesn’t like shaking hands.
And lions and roaring tigers
hate saying, “How do you do?” —
But I give buns to the elephant
when I go down to the Zoo!

— A.A. Milne

h/t to Mrs. Crumpet

The Hat Makes the Man II

The Crumpet household once again recently found itself drawn into another one of those fine BBC-Andrew Davies adaptations of classic literature. Little Dorrit, an eight-hour miniseries based on the Charles Dickens novel, stars Claire Foy as the titular character and Matthew MacFadyen as Arthur Clennam, who seems to be vying for the title of Nicest Guy in the World. (See Mr. Jarndyce in Bleak House.)

And once again, Mr. Crumpet found himself appreciating a simpler, gentler age when hats (particularly of the tall variety) were deemed so important, so essential to the day-to-day functioning of a civil society.

Orange Bear sighs. “Here we go again…”

Mr. Clennam: It’s the hat, isn’t it?

Don’t Call Him the Goat

In this our fourth installment of our (quite) occasional series on famous real-life critters, we turn the spotlight on William Windsor, a Kashmir goat, who retired this week from the British Army at the ripe old age of 9.

William Windsor, aka Billy (must be contractual), served as a lance corporal in 1st Battalion, the Royal Welsh (including a two-and-a-half year post in Cyprus) and performed his ceremonial duties as regimental goat by marching in front of the battalion. The tradition of the regimental goat dates back to America’s Revolutionary War and the Crimean War many decades later.

Billy the Goat will spend his golden years at Whipsnade Zoo, outside Dunstable in Central England.

String Quotage

Mr. Crumpet collects string. He’s not sure why, but he believes he has a cousin who collects rubber bands.

Mr. Crumpet also collects quotes about string. These are his two favorites:

A world without string is chaos.

– Rudolph Smuntz, Mouse Hunt (1997)

And:

On his deathbed, Morris Zelig tells his son that life is a meaningless nightmare of suffering, and the only advice he gives him is to save string.

– The Narrator, Zelig (1983)