European Disunion of Metaphor

claudboris - Copy

In the battle of articulating a position on Brexit by the use of metaphor, Jean-Claude Juncker would seem to have won with a flush to Boris Johnson’s paltry pair.

Yesterday, the Eton and Oxford educated British Foreign Secretary bumbled out the following mess of an articulation,

…I say to get the thing…the great ship down the slipway and on the open seas…and looking for some urgency…time to put a bit of a tiger in the tank and get the thing done..

which was as clear as a pane of glass hit by the spread of an airborne cow-pat.

Today, in the other poker hand, the secondary school educated President of the European Commission, also speaking figuratively in English, articulated his Brexit observation as follows,

If you are sitting at a bar and ordering 28 beers and then suddenly some of your colleagues are leaving, it’s ok but they have to pay, they have to pay

which at the very least tapped into the wider experience of us all and was sustained across a singular referencing.

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Gender Segregation in Schools

From the report in today’s Schools Week about a faith school’s sex segregation and the High Court ruling declaring this unlawful:

Ofsted were highly critical of the school in their report last summer, arguing that separating pupils who attend the same school was not in line with the values of British society nor prepared them for modern life.

The appeal had the backing of the Equality and Human Rights Commission.

Agreed. So how does this square with single sex schools? Surely the context of ‘who attend the same school’ is not a defining factor? Not if we extrapolate that boys and girls attend the same society?

 

A Little Tooth by Thomas Lux [and The Writer’s Almanac]

I like this short, simple poem:

A Little Tooth

by Thomas Lux

Your baby grows a tooth, then two,
and four, and five, then she wants some meat
directly from the bone. It’s all

over: she’ll learn some words, she’ll fall
in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet
talker on his way to jail. And you,

your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue
nothing. You did, you loved, your feet
are sore. It’s dusk. Your daughter’s tall.

“A Little Tooth” by Thomas Lux from The Drowned River. © Houghton Mifflin, 1997.

This is up today at The Writer’s Almanac site, here. If you sign up to its email newsletter, you’ll get a poem emailed to you each day. Hosted by Garrison Keillor, who reads each poem posted as well as the daily literary news, and it is an effortless parcel of daily joy to receive every day. If you don’t like the poem of that day, wait for the next one.