December 25 is the old Anglo-Saxon pagan midwinter festival of ‘geol’ (pronounced “yule”), following ‘modraniht’ (mothers’ night). Christianity stole it on the basis that if people were going to have a feast anyway, they might as well do it for Jesus. rather than Woden.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,And then is heard no more. It is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing.(Macbeth, by William Shakespeare)
A grey squirrel comes into our garden every day and I can assure you that squirrels do poop, as my 3-year-old granddaughter loves to point out: “Look, Grandad, squirrel poo!”.
Andy Capp lives in the town of Hartlepool (northeast England). Its football (soccer for Americans) team (Hartlepool United) is about to be relegated from the top tier of football (i.e they are 91st out of 92 teams). Hence the disappointment and misery.
He who knows not, and knows not that he knows not, is a fool; shun him. He who knows not, and knows that he knows not, is a student; teach him. He who knows, and knows not that he knows, is asleep; wake him. He who knows, and knows that he knows, is Wise; follow him.
Unfortunately, it’s pronounced Goch (rhymes with loch), not Go.