I looked this up, and originally it seems to have tagged post-war baby-boomer types who also attracted the tag “OK Boomers” for their complacent sense of being cocksure A-OK about everything.
As I avoided being herded in with the contingent born just post-WW2, is there an appropriate epithet for individuals like me who are well stuck into their 80s? I may be game still, but I sure ain’t Gammon…
In my travels I’ve come across many young foreigners confused by the fact that among older Englishmen, the more you know and like somebody, the more you insult them.
Sounds a bit as though your village is dying and that the locals will be delighted at a proposal which would strengthen links with local schools and retail services, and bring in a bit of cash to the mairie. If I were you I’d be very cautious before expressing any reluctance at it!
I see no reason either. I know the extreme political right has tried to make out the description ‘gammon’ is racist, but that’s obviously absurd - it’s a very light-hearted and mischievous mocking of intolerance.
“The meaning of that term—gammon,” said Mr. Gregsbury, “is unknown to me. If it means that I grow a little too fervid, or perhaps even hyperbolical, in extolling my native land, I admit the full justice of the remark.”
I think it is a shame a newcomer has had their first post removed, particularly when it has spurred some interesting and informative chat about the word ‘gammon’. I didn’t think the post was offensive or a personal insult. Sounds like another potentially interesting member made to feel unwelcome and taken off.
Yes I did the same, hence me commenting that I didn’t feel it warranted being flagged. Although I do admit I have a pretty thick skin and it takes a bit for me to be insulted but I didn’t think it was insulting / or meant to be insulting!
That was the '50’s. Brando and Dean in white T-shirts. Miles Davis “Birth of The Cool”. Black polonecks for the Parisian avante-garde.
The era of flares, tie-died everything, headbands, beads, fringed jackets [beads optional], purple crushed velvet, shoulder bags with mirrors – it was Far Out!
Glastonbury [the town] has a rump of this ‘alternative’ society’ but my observation [and semi-detached participation] of the British version of it, is that it was always more a fashion than a way of life. And as a way of life, friends who embraced it did so benefiting from an era of generous DHSS handouts.
A great deal of what was ‘alternative’ back then has features in Sunday Col supps and glossy decor mags since.
Friends who went on the hippy trail to Katmandhu and left any ideas of the alternative there, ran Volvo estates for years until herself was given a lift in a Merc. She didn’t know what it was [no interest in cars, doesn’t drive but can spot an aspirational item from 100 paces] - their cars following had to be one of those.
One of the Chicago 8 went on to be a successful operator on Wall St. Felix Dennis, one of the three defendants in the Oz magazine obcenity trial - probably the high-point of British ‘counter-culture’ v The Establisment, founded a magazine empire which publishes such alternative-not titles as ‘Octane’, ‘Enzo’ [dedicated to the Ferrari of that name], ‘Car Throttle’.
It seem that the mainstream a.k.a ‘traditional’ way of life has a habit of winning back escapees.
But then there’s Machynlleth’s Centre for Alternative Tech, tho’ there is a review complaining about ‘the toilets’ [seems a recurring theme] and a repeat visitor commenting that the ‘alternative tech’ has not moved on for 20 years.
The Findhorn Foundation is still going after all these years - 80. ‘An experiment in transforming human consciousness, surrounded by a stunning Scottish landscape of beach, bay and forest. Come and find what is calling you…’
Over the years, friends have spent time at Findhorn. It seems a fine place to seek some inner balance and peace. On the coast of the Solway Firth, they have their work cut out because 15 miles along the coast RAF Lossiemouth flies these.
I am, as you will surmise, in the sceptical camp. But I wish these people well in living an alternative life in what my pal French Franck reminded me is ‘a very highly regulated society’