The Shotgun Blog
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
"...proposes to take a stand against this culture of vulgarity. We must show our children that the things worth fighting for are not the latest plastic plimsolls but a shiny pair of brogues. We must wean them off their alcopops and teach them how to mix martinis. Let the young not be ashamed of their flabby paunches, which they try to hide in their nylon tracksuits - we shall show them how a well-tailored suit can disguise the most ruined of bodies. Finally, let us capitalise on youth's love of peculiar argot only replace their pidgin ghetto-speak with fruity bons mots and dry witticisms."
These guys are on the front lines against a cultural obsession with outlawing smoking. It's an event for the sort of chap who voted for Boris and reads Taki's High Life column in The Spectator. Matthew, you've got to appreciate the tweed, bowlers, pipe smoking, and the bonny lasses in attendance. I'm expecting all this and more (including the pipe relay) at another celebration of liberty, the LSS on July 26-27th in Orono, Ontario just 45 minutes east of Toronto. I'll bring the gin. Register now.
This video is from 2007:
Posted by Kalim Kassam on July 15, 2008 | Permalink
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I've always thought Jaws was the original anarcho-dandy :-)
Posted by: Terrence Watson | 2008-07-15 3:42:39 AM
You have not yet met Kalim and his pink pants, Terrence.
Posted by: P.M. Jaworski | 2008-07-15 6:26:37 AM
But I prefer the culture of the chaps of the East Coast WASP influenced anarcho-dandyism variety. Or the Southern Gentleman chap culture complete with Seersucker suits, mint juleps and good manners.
Posted by: Matthew Johnston | 2008-07-15 9:17:17 AM
I've always been a sucker for seersuckers, French cuff shirts, and a pair of Converse. Throw in a classy tune to Charleston to, and a Scotch, neat, and you really have all the makings of a fine affair.
Posted by: P.M. Jaworski | 2008-07-15 9:21:55 AM
I've always favored three-piece suits myself, but they MUST be made with fabric woven by the tiny fingers of 3-year-old Bhutanese toddlers laboring in dim cellars for 18 hours at a stretch. My leather accessories simply must be hand-tooled and preferably made from the leather of a threatened species by the tiny hands of sub-Saharan pygmies working in the blinding sunlight of unprotected desert work-camps.
Is there ANYTHING quite like the thrill of stopping by one's favorite retailers, putting the gaz-guzzler in park but letting it continue to run and pollute while one shops at a leisurely pace for a new set of threads?
Ah! I think I detect a whiff of capers in the air, and coffee, too. My beloved is probably brewing me a cup of coffee made from beans plucked by the dainty digits of three-year-old South American Indian harvesters working under the protective eye of some military junta. I must run...
Posted by: Sigmund Froyd | 2008-07-16 4:49:26 AM
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