Pretentious bollocksPossibly the worst event I ever went to was an evening of turntablists in London. The lights went down, the first guy put a cymbal onto a turntable, dropped the needle on it and left it making screeching noises for ten minutes.
When the lights came up, half the audience had snuck out.
What's the most pretentious rubbish you've ever been to see in the name of art?
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chthonic, Wed 28 Sep 2005, 14:19)
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Mr PMy Maths and Physics teacher is just about the most pretentious man you could ever hope to meet. He is Polish, or at least of Polish descent, hence he is typically only referred to as Mr P. He is also so far up his own arse that he could massage his own spleen with his tongue.
He looks like the archetypal mad scientist, with long, curly hair, which as a 50 year old, he gels to give exactly the right amount of curl, a goatee beard, a moustache (which he has waxed into a curl on either side in an endeavour to look like an 'elderly D'Artagnan' to annonunce to the world his interest in that most pretentious of all sports, fencing), and a slightly spaced out gaze.
His standard attire, which he wears on a day to day basis, is a crumpled white suit, a bow tie louder than a status quo concert (when he can't decide which of his extensive collection to wear, he ties two together and thus has a mismatched one), an equally vibrant handkerchief in his breast pocket, and, depending on his mood, either a pair of pince-nez or a monocle. He also has a vast collection of unusual hats, which he apparantely buys from the internet and wears as often as he can.
At the weekends, he indulges in his favourite hobby: beekeeping. Need I say more?
I could go on and tell you about the way he mixes his own inks for his pen to get more unique colours, or the way his presence is always preceded by the russian opera he inevitably sings as he waltzes up and down the corridors, or the way he wants to be a composer but refuses to learn any music theory because music comes from 'within the heart', but this post is in danger of becoming upsettingly long, so i won't. I'll end with the fact that despite all this, I am actually rather fond of him, and in fact encourage him indiscriminately to new heights of ridiculousness, on the basis that we could all do with a laugh sometimes.
Oh, and while I've never, thank god, seen his bollocks and therefore cannot judge them for pretension, making assumptions based on the rest of him I wouldn't be surprised if they were embossed with gold filigree and recited the works of T. S. Eliot on demand.
(, Thu 29 Sep 2005, 18:20, Reply)
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