Showing posts with label Queen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Queen. Show all posts
Friday, 20 September 2013
Thursday, 30 August 2012
Between Olympics
Well, not quite. The Paralympics have in fact started. But I started this post in the hiatus between the two Games, and I'm not changing the title now. So:
As I sit here between Olympics, and with the godawful ticketing system still not working properly, and not likely to let us get to see any Paralympic competitions up close in the near future, if at all, it seems a good time, as they say on Thought for Today, to pause and reflect.
We always expected the Olympics to be far, far better, and more worthwhile, than the benighted Jubilee - and they didn't disappoint. We were on Dartmoor, on holiday, during the Opening Ceremony, which meant we got to watch it on a huge plasma TV. Which was nice.
As every commentator - well most commentators - have said, it was astonishingly good.
I have to admit, when I first heard about the bucolic idyll that was being planned, a fantasy English countryside, my heart sank. But even that was enlivened by the rippling blue cloth that covered the stands and allowed us to see the idyll as 'sea-girt'.
And then we tore it all up in the Steam-driven Pandemonium of the Industrial Revolution, led by Sir Kenneth Branagh as Caliban (a theme for all four ceremonies it seems) - cum - Brunel. Echoes of Blake and Milton.
Followed by (in random order):-
- NHS nurses (a great invention from 1948)
- Liberty director Shami Chakrabarti.
- Suffragettes
- Voldemort from Harry Potter, Rowling and Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, and Mary Poppins (all representing children's literature? But no Blyton I could see, nor Ahlberg, nor Kerr). And that section did cause our 15-y-o to comment along the lines that the good socialist message of the NHS was undermined by the children in beds having to be saved by the privatised care of Mary Poppins...
- Beckham on a speedboat looking terribly stylish, and fireworks on Tower Bridge as it opened to let his ego through...
- The Swinging Sixties and psychedelia
- The Stunt Queen: so much more approachable than the one we have...
- The noise of the Tardis in the middle of another Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody... (but why?)
- Rowan Atkinson & Simon Rattle in Chariots of Fire
A section on media (ish), introduced by the pips, Radio 4 and the Archers, leading to a house full of film and TV clips - while decades of our pop and rock played...
- Python and Fawlty Towers, (let's ignore Eric Idle in the Closing Ceremony for the moment)
- A Matter of Life and Death
- Kes
- Gregory's Girl
- Bagpuss
- Queen Who Stones Beatles
- Madness
- Mud
- Jetpacks and Tim Berners-Lee
But sadly no Thunderbirds or HHGTTG or Fast Show that I noticed...
All really good fun. But it did make me realise that we here at TANH appear to have been writing about the London 2012 Olympics Opening Ceremony in half of our postings, without really knowing what we were doing... It's like we were revising for it.
So is that it? Do we have to stop writing about all that stuff now?
As I sit here between Olympics, and with the godawful ticketing system still not working properly, and not likely to let us get to see any Paralympic competitions up close in the near future, if at all, it seems a good time, as they say on Thought for Today, to pause and reflect.
We always expected the Olympics to be far, far better, and more worthwhile, than the benighted Jubilee - and they didn't disappoint. We were on Dartmoor, on holiday, during the Opening Ceremony, which meant we got to watch it on a huge plasma TV. Which was nice.
As every commentator - well most commentators - have said, it was astonishingly good.
I have to admit, when I first heard about the bucolic idyll that was being planned, a fantasy English countryside, my heart sank. But even that was enlivened by the rippling blue cloth that covered the stands and allowed us to see the idyll as 'sea-girt'.
And then we tore it all up in the Steam-driven Pandemonium of the Industrial Revolution, led by Sir Kenneth Branagh as Caliban (a theme for all four ceremonies it seems) - cum - Brunel. Echoes of Blake and Milton.
Followed by (in random order):-
- NHS nurses (a great invention from 1948)
- Liberty director Shami Chakrabarti.
- Suffragettes
- Voldemort from Harry Potter, Rowling and Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, and Mary Poppins (all representing children's literature? But no Blyton I could see, nor Ahlberg, nor Kerr). And that section did cause our 15-y-o to comment along the lines that the good socialist message of the NHS was undermined by the children in beds having to be saved by the privatised care of Mary Poppins...
- Beckham on a speedboat looking terribly stylish, and fireworks on Tower Bridge as it opened to let his ego through...
- The Swinging Sixties and psychedelia
- The Stunt Queen: so much more approachable than the one we have...
- The noise of the Tardis in the middle of another Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody... (but why?)
- Rowan Atkinson & Simon Rattle in Chariots of Fire
A section on media (ish), introduced by the pips, Radio 4 and the Archers, leading to a house full of film and TV clips - while decades of our pop and rock played...
- Python and Fawlty Towers, (let's ignore Eric Idle in the Closing Ceremony for the moment)
- A Matter of Life and Death
- Kes
- Gregory's Girl
- Bagpuss
- Queen Who Stones Beatles
- Madness
- Mud
- Jetpacks and Tim Berners-Lee
But sadly no Thunderbirds or HHGTTG or Fast Show that I noticed...
All really good fun. But it did make me realise that we here at TANH appear to have been writing about the London 2012 Olympics Opening Ceremony in half of our postings, without really knowing what we were doing... It's like we were revising for it.
So is that it? Do we have to stop writing about all that stuff now?
Friday, 1 June 2012
On Jubilation
As noted before, I have this memory of floating in a punt on the river Wear with a music box of some kind (portable record player? That doesn’t sound right – a cassette seems so much more likely for all sorts of reasons), drifting past some of the colleges and playing the Sex Pistols at high volume. I’m sure it was the Silver Jubilee in 1977.
We played God Save the Queen (it’s a fascist regime). I wasn’t a punk, but I enjoyed punk music. More importantly, perhaps, I was no fan of the Royal family by that age.
I seem to remember I was more tolerant earlier – Charles’ investiture was in 1969 and I collected the stamps issued for the event. They are sitting in the little album now, looking quite battered (I hadn’t worked out how to look after them and ensure they kept their value at that point).
But even then the royals seemed peripheral at best – other things interested me far more. It was the stamps that held my attention, not the heir to the throne.
In 1977 I suppose I felt vaguely rebellious – and we were also pretty amazed that the BBC had bothered to fiddle the charts to make sure the record wasn’t number one in Jubilee week.
Four years later, for the 1981 Wedding, I felt more strongly, I think. I sported a 'General Strike Against the Monarchy' badge and a few of us went up a mountain to get away from the general hullabaloo.
Now, as we approach the great beast that is the Diamond Jubilee, I find I have a yet bleaker view of the royal family and indeed the whole idea of monarchy. It seems tied up in a nexus of wholly negative ideas and beliefs that do great harm.
Obvious amongst these, of course, are the ideas of inherited privilege and wealth, and the sense that royalty shores up and normalises the idea of an unequal society. It encourages bad behaviour and a disregard for others.
The one time I was in the same room as the Queen and Prince Philip I saw this at first hand. We were waiting in two lines to meet the so-called Royal party in the British Museum’s Round Reading Room. This was the posh, grand opening of the Great Court, the big open hub at the centre of the Museum. Everyone in the room had been working on the project for many years, and the new, space was the final outcome of all their efforts.
So Brenda spotted someone she knew on the far side of the RRR and ignoring all those who were waiting to meet her, toddled over for a chat. She never did do the handshake thing with the workers. On the other side of the room,
Phil the Greek meanwhile saw one of the new multimedia terminals we were presenting, and went over to look at it. Now, we knew the system was a little flaky, so the deputy head of the team who was demonstrating it had an agreed, safe script she was going to run through for him. To show him some of the gorgeous images and animations in the system (and they really were good).
Instead, with a “what does this button do, luvvy?” he crashed the system. He was then absolutely foul to the woman - who had of course been dedicated to this one project for a number of years. He berated her and suggested she ought to get a man to sort it for her as she clearly didn’t know what she was doing. He then strode over to join his missus, leaving the poor member of staff in tears.
Thus, my only experience of the royals so far suggests they are arrogant, selfish, ignorant and crass. Full of an unmerited sense of their own importance and a wholesale disregard for the feelings of others. Just as you might expect if they’ve lived their whole lives in a safe, secure, privileged bubble.
This idea of wealth, power and fame being awarded for no good reason also seems to link to and support the inane celebrity culture we have at present. Children growing up whose only ambition is to be on the telly. The X-Factor generation.
This seemed at its most obvious in the spontaneous, country-wide, outpouring of grief for the death of Diana, the People’s Princess. The whole public response struck me at the time as bizarre in the extreme, and still does. While recognising the great sadness her death will have caused to those who knew her, her family and friends, I cannot get my head around the deep and apparently sincere emotional connection and grief felt by people who had never met her, and indeed weren’t even avid royal watchers. It seems a hard to explain, excessive and overcharged response.
Private Eye got it right...
On the day of the funeral, we took the children out to the Romney Hythe and Dymchurch Light Railway. Ride the trains and avoid the telly and radio. But at New Romney station, at 11am, an announcement was made and for the minute's silence all of the engines stopped. The big, burly drivers stood uptight in their tight little cabs - towering over the trains - and (I fear) doffed their caps. Quite, quite surreal. The resulting image, rather than suggesting respect, was inadvertently and inappropriately funny.
Moving on from this picture, it also appears to me that this sense of privilege, of being able to do whatever they want without consideration of what is right and proper, or of its impact on others, connects in some way to the posh Tory boy’s government we have at the moment. The idea that if you inherit wealth, power and ‘status’ you are entitled. And of course you add to this the banking culture that has caused the financial crisis. This establishment is immensely strong and infiltrates the culture at so many levels, and there is a small and dwindling sense, it seems to me, of any sense of respect or credit based on merit or morality.
And the Royals contribute to this problem in so many ways.
So what to do? Ignore the street parties and the flotilla of boats on the Thames? Or go along and shout at people? Probably not very wise.
As mentioned here previously, we managed to get away from the collective insanity of the Royal Wedding, last year, to France – a proper, Republican country that seems to know what to do about royalty and nobility. A smashing couple of days were spent away from the madness.
However, this year we are stuck in London for the event. No running away this time.
I don’t know. I like parties, meself, and the bread-and-circuses spectacle will at least be interesting. We are celebrating the wrong thing for the wrong reason. (Sixty years in the same job, which as far as I can see she doesn’t do very well at all? Most of us can’t assume we will keep our jobs for the next year or two in the current economic climate, let alone sixty – aren't we all meant to have portfolio careers and embrace contract culture? And when did she last have a proper appraisal?). But at least we get a party, I suppose.
Anyway, the Trees will remain a little island of Republican sanity. Hence Marvell's Horation Ode a few days back.
Now there's an idea: perhaps we might also visit St Mary's church in Putney - home of the Putney debates of 1647.
Yes, that sounds good...
I seem to remember I was more tolerant earlier – Charles’ investiture was in 1969 and I collected the stamps issued for the event. They are sitting in the little album now, looking quite battered (I hadn’t worked out how to look after them and ensure they kept their value at that point).
In 1977 I suppose I felt vaguely rebellious – and we were also pretty amazed that the BBC had bothered to fiddle the charts to make sure the record wasn’t number one in Jubilee week.
Four years later, for the 1981 Wedding, I felt more strongly, I think. I sported a 'General Strike Against the Monarchy' badge and a few of us went up a mountain to get away from the general hullabaloo.
Now, as we approach the great beast that is the Diamond Jubilee, I find I have a yet bleaker view of the royal family and indeed the whole idea of monarchy. It seems tied up in a nexus of wholly negative ideas and beliefs that do great harm.
Obvious amongst these, of course, are the ideas of inherited privilege and wealth, and the sense that royalty shores up and normalises the idea of an unequal society. It encourages bad behaviour and a disregard for others.
The one time I was in the same room as the Queen and Prince Philip I saw this at first hand. We were waiting in two lines to meet the so-called Royal party in the British Museum’s Round Reading Room. This was the posh, grand opening of the Great Court, the big open hub at the centre of the Museum. Everyone in the room had been working on the project for many years, and the new, space was the final outcome of all their efforts.
So Brenda spotted someone she knew on the far side of the RRR and ignoring all those who were waiting to meet her, toddled over for a chat. She never did do the handshake thing with the workers. On the other side of the room,
Phil the Greek meanwhile saw one of the new multimedia terminals we were presenting, and went over to look at it. Now, we knew the system was a little flaky, so the deputy head of the team who was demonstrating it had an agreed, safe script she was going to run through for him. To show him some of the gorgeous images and animations in the system (and they really were good).
Instead, with a “what does this button do, luvvy?” he crashed the system. He was then absolutely foul to the woman - who had of course been dedicated to this one project for a number of years. He berated her and suggested she ought to get a man to sort it for her as she clearly didn’t know what she was doing. He then strode over to join his missus, leaving the poor member of staff in tears.
Thus, my only experience of the royals so far suggests they are arrogant, selfish, ignorant and crass. Full of an unmerited sense of their own importance and a wholesale disregard for the feelings of others. Just as you might expect if they’ve lived their whole lives in a safe, secure, privileged bubble.
This idea of wealth, power and fame being awarded for no good reason also seems to link to and support the inane celebrity culture we have at present. Children growing up whose only ambition is to be on the telly. The X-Factor generation.
This seemed at its most obvious in the spontaneous, country-wide, outpouring of grief for the death of Diana, the People’s Princess. The whole public response struck me at the time as bizarre in the extreme, and still does. While recognising the great sadness her death will have caused to those who knew her, her family and friends, I cannot get my head around the deep and apparently sincere emotional connection and grief felt by people who had never met her, and indeed weren’t even avid royal watchers. It seems a hard to explain, excessive and overcharged response.
Private Eye got it right...
Moving on from this picture, it also appears to me that this sense of privilege, of being able to do whatever they want without consideration of what is right and proper, or of its impact on others, connects in some way to the posh Tory boy’s government we have at the moment. The idea that if you inherit wealth, power and ‘status’ you are entitled. And of course you add to this the banking culture that has caused the financial crisis. This establishment is immensely strong and infiltrates the culture at so many levels, and there is a small and dwindling sense, it seems to me, of any sense of respect or credit based on merit or morality.
And the Royals contribute to this problem in so many ways.
So what to do? Ignore the street parties and the flotilla of boats on the Thames? Or go along and shout at people? Probably not very wise.
As mentioned here previously, we managed to get away from the collective insanity of the Royal Wedding, last year, to France – a proper, Republican country that seems to know what to do about royalty and nobility. A smashing couple of days were spent away from the madness.
However, this year we are stuck in London for the event. No running away this time.
I don’t know. I like parties, meself, and the bread-and-circuses spectacle will at least be interesting. We are celebrating the wrong thing for the wrong reason. (Sixty years in the same job, which as far as I can see she doesn’t do very well at all? Most of us can’t assume we will keep our jobs for the next year or two in the current economic climate, let alone sixty – aren't we all meant to have portfolio careers and embrace contract culture? And when did she last have a proper appraisal?). But at least we get a party, I suppose.
Anyway, the Trees will remain a little island of Republican sanity. Hence Marvell's Horation Ode a few days back.
Now there's an idea: perhaps we might also visit St Mary's church in Putney - home of the Putney debates of 1647.
Yes, that sounds good...
Monday, 21 May 2012
Jubilee Poem of the Week
I recall sitting in a punt, with a stereo blaring out this Jubilee anthem, in 1977... so now seems the right time to broadcast it again.
God Save The Queen
The Sex Pistols
God save the queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
Potential H-bomb
God save the queen
She ain't no human being
There is no future
In England's dreaming
Don't be told what you want
Don't be told what you need
There's no future, no future,
No future for you
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
'Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems
Oh God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh Lord God have mercy
All crimes are paid
When there's no future
How can there be sin
We're the flowers in the dustbin
We're the poison in your human machine
We're the future, your future
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
We mean it man
And there is no future
In England's dreaming
No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future,
No future for me
No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future
For you
God Save The Queen
The Sex Pistols
God save the queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
Potential H-bomb
God save the queen
She ain't no human being
There is no future
In England's dreaming
Don't be told what you want
Don't be told what you need
There's no future, no future,
No future for you
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
'Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems
Oh God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh Lord God have mercy
All crimes are paid
When there's no future
How can there be sin
We're the flowers in the dustbin
We're the poison in your human machine
We're the future, your future
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
We mean it man
And there is no future
In England's dreaming
No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future,
No future for me
No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future
For you
Wednesday, 6 July 2011
Bo Rap
I've acquired a small and only slightly damaging Amazon habit, and recently bought Queen's "A Night At The Opera" - mostly for Bohemian Rhapsody.
But, hey, it isn't as good as the original...
But, hey, it isn't as good as the original...
Monday, 13 June 2011
Jolly Saturday Morn
I must say I found this Saturday morning's Radio 4 programmes most enjoyable. I know that sounds awful - middle-class, Home Counties, etc. Well, tough, is my considered reply - I still enjoyed it.
Firstly the new Honours list. And in my view this is nothing about Brenda or any other member of the Royal family, nor about empire (despite the awful names for some of the Homours). It is just about recognition. So you can still be pleased when people you like or know get recognised.
Thus, I was happy that the morning News bothered to highlight the two Goodies (Garden and Brooke-Taylor). Billoddie has one already (for Wildlife stuff) - but this was either for ISIHAC or The Goodies. I'm pleased with either.
Bruce Forsyth I can take or leave, and also Jenny Murray. But a large Hurrah! for the Bernard Cribbins OBE (for services to Drama - presumably that can encompass everything, including The Wombles, Right Said Fred!, the Railway Children and Doctor Who).
Today and the News was followed by 'Your Desert Island Discs' - so I'm already cheered up there was no Saturday Live this week. A top eight of discs chosen by listeners to DID: self-selecting and unrepresentative, of course.
I tried to predict what would be in the list, but mis-read almost all of the winners, which were:
1 Ralph Vaughan Williams - The Lark Ascending
2 Sir Edward Elgar - Enigma Variations
3 Ludwig van Beethoven - Symphony No 9 in D minor 'Choral'
4 Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody
5 Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb
6 Sir Edward Elgar - Cello Concerto in E Minor
7 George Frideric Handel - Messiah
8 Gustav Holst - The Planets
OK - I worked out Bo Rap, Ode to Joy and the Planets. But The Lark Ascending? Comfortably Numb? (sounds like a write-in campaign), the Elgar Cello?
The Beatles weren't there because there were just too many choose from (it seemed they were easily the most popular artists but spread too thinly). But as the list was slowly unveiled, and it became clear that there was a bias towards the English, and to what I would call 'Big Sounds', I guessed the number one would be Jerusalem. Hopelessly wrong of course. Probably over-influenced by my walk around Bunhill Fields earlier in the week.
But it was good fun, even if only two of the choices would have been in my top eight. (Actually that is not a bad average - your personal choice is meant to be exactly that, personal, so it'd be surprising and rather sad if too many overlapped with the most popular, common denominator choices).
One complaint: I wish the BBC DID Website showed more detail - the top 100 say?
And finally, Lenny Henry explored Chaucer as part of his 'What's So Great About...' series. I have to admit I was surprised. He normally chooses a topic with a little more general popular presence (if I can call it that). Not that I was at all displeased, of course.
It was a fun listen, including an excerpt from Neville Coghill, Terry Jones being himself (discussing the colloquialism and the jokes), and many others. And of course, in addition to Canterbury, it had to be set in South London, mostly on the site of the Tabard and then round the corner in (I think) The George. Absolutely fantastic.
And then I had to get up...
Firstly the new Honours list. And in my view this is nothing about Brenda or any other member of the Royal family, nor about empire (despite the awful names for some of the Homours). It is just about recognition. So you can still be pleased when people you like or know get recognised.
Thus, I was happy that the morning News bothered to highlight the two Goodies (Garden and Brooke-Taylor). Billoddie has one already (for Wildlife stuff) - but this was either for ISIHAC or The Goodies. I'm pleased with either.
Bruce Forsyth I can take or leave, and also Jenny Murray. But a large Hurrah! for the Bernard Cribbins OBE (for services to Drama - presumably that can encompass everything, including The Wombles, Right Said Fred!, the Railway Children and Doctor Who).
Today and the News was followed by 'Your Desert Island Discs' - so I'm already cheered up there was no Saturday Live this week. A top eight of discs chosen by listeners to DID: self-selecting and unrepresentative, of course.
I tried to predict what would be in the list, but mis-read almost all of the winners, which were:
1 Ralph Vaughan Williams - The Lark Ascending
2 Sir Edward Elgar - Enigma Variations
3 Ludwig van Beethoven - Symphony No 9 in D minor 'Choral'
4 Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody
5 Pink Floyd - Comfortably Numb
6 Sir Edward Elgar - Cello Concerto in E Minor
7 George Frideric Handel - Messiah
8 Gustav Holst - The Planets
OK - I worked out Bo Rap, Ode to Joy and the Planets. But The Lark Ascending? Comfortably Numb? (sounds like a write-in campaign), the Elgar Cello?
The Beatles weren't there because there were just too many choose from (it seemed they were easily the most popular artists but spread too thinly). But as the list was slowly unveiled, and it became clear that there was a bias towards the English, and to what I would call 'Big Sounds', I guessed the number one would be Jerusalem. Hopelessly wrong of course. Probably over-influenced by my walk around Bunhill Fields earlier in the week.
But it was good fun, even if only two of the choices would have been in my top eight. (Actually that is not a bad average - your personal choice is meant to be exactly that, personal, so it'd be surprising and rather sad if too many overlapped with the most popular, common denominator choices).
One complaint: I wish the BBC DID Website showed more detail - the top 100 say?
And finally, Lenny Henry explored Chaucer as part of his 'What's So Great About...' series. I have to admit I was surprised. He normally chooses a topic with a little more general popular presence (if I can call it that). Not that I was at all displeased, of course.
It was a fun listen, including an excerpt from Neville Coghill, Terry Jones being himself (discussing the colloquialism and the jokes), and many others. And of course, in addition to Canterbury, it had to be set in South London, mostly on the site of the Tabard and then round the corner in (I think) The George. Absolutely fantastic.
And then I had to get up...
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Poem of the Week
Killer Queen
Freddie Mercury
She keeps Moet et Chandon
In a pretty cabinet
'Let them eat cake' she says
Just like Marie Antoinette
A built-in remedy
For Khrushchev and Kennedy
At anytime an invitation
You can't decline
Caviar and cigarettes
Well versed in etiquette
Extraordinarily nice
Chorus:
She's a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, Gelatine
Dynamite with a laser beam
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Anytime
Recommended at the price
Insatiable an appetite
Wanna try?
To avoid complications
She never kept the same address
In conversation
She spoke just like a baroness
Met a man from China
Went down to Asia Minor
Then again incidentally
If you're that way inclined
Perfume came naturally from Paris
for cars she couldn't care less
Fastidious and precise
Chorus
Drop of a hat she's as willing as
Playful as a pussy cat
Then momentarily out of action
Temporarily out of gas
To absolutely drive you wild, wild
She's out to get you
Chorus
Recommended at the price
Insatiable in appetite
Wanna try?
You wanna try.
Freddie Mercury
She keeps Moet et Chandon
In a pretty cabinet
'Let them eat cake' she says
Just like Marie Antoinette
A built-in remedy
For Khrushchev and Kennedy
At anytime an invitation
You can't decline
Caviar and cigarettes
Well versed in etiquette
Extraordinarily nice
Chorus:
She's a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, Gelatine
Dynamite with a laser beam
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Anytime
Recommended at the price
Insatiable an appetite
Wanna try?
To avoid complications
She never kept the same address
In conversation
She spoke just like a baroness
Met a man from China
Went down to Asia Minor
Then again incidentally
If you're that way inclined
Perfume came naturally from Paris
for cars she couldn't care less
Fastidious and precise
Chorus
Drop of a hat she's as willing as
Playful as a pussy cat
Then momentarily out of action
Temporarily out of gas
To absolutely drive you wild, wild
She's out to get you
Chorus
Recommended at the price
Insatiable in appetite
Wanna try?
You wanna try.
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