Minor Strangeness

Mr_Hermolle

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A very minor piece of strangeness, which isn't really that strange at all, but it popped into my head today and made me smile. I used to live in Brighton - for nearly 20 years - ans I would regularly (but not frequently) pop into a fish'n'chips shop by the station. It was always the same in there - handwritten menu, very cheap and lovely fish'n'chips (though probably not very healthy either...), copies of The Watchtower mixing with free papers on the windowsill / seating area. Behind the counter, it was always the same - the proprietor would always be rushing about serving and cooking food - his wife would be in the background watching some kind of loud soap opera - and their daughter would be sat at the table doing homework. Exactly the same. Every time I went in. For 15 years or so, the same domestic tableaux was being carried out, and then it struck me - the daughter didn't seem to age - stuck permanently at 6 years old or so, always doing her homework, the mother always watching the same Chinese soap opera... I imagine it was a different child, or I hadn't been paying attention (who pays attention to what goes on in the background of fish'n'chips shops after all?). I still remember that moment of oddness though, when it felt like the back of the fish'n'chip shop was frozen in time, the same scene carried out again and again, like something from old television programme Sapphire and Steel... I no longer live in Brighton, and I've heard its closed down now sadly enough. No idea why it popped into my head today, but there you go.
 

Ermintruder

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At times like these I can't comprehend how I could be descended from the British, since your past times seem so weird to me . . . o_O
You're welcome!

The whole of the British Isles is still a seething pile of disparate tribal groups, divided and unified across all sorts of cultural, class & creed groupings, engaged in a perperpetual Tolkeinesque musical theatre street-show of mind-bending glitter and spectacle.

All of the above applies irregardless of whether you really meant 'pastimes' (our strange avocations/hobbies/games) or literally our 'past times' (as in our viscious cheerful capacity, historically, to have done horrible and strange things to each-other in the name of whatever)

And since We in the Untied Kindom all constantly play games & live in the past, both options are covered.

It's all down to the unbroken continuity of traditions. The maintenance of regional social substrates within a geographic isolate. Clubs (joined, eaten or carried)...or, by substitution, class.

We are becoming more homogenised, more internationalised, more transatlantified & australasiated. Except we're not really (ha! had you going there!)
 

EnolaGaia

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... You'll also be interested to hear there's a ladies version with the ferrets being placed in your blouse. Equal opportunity & all that..
I was going to ask if there were a label for the ladies version, but Wikipedia had the answer:

An attempt to introduce a female version of the sport—ferret busting, in which female contestants introduced ferrets down their blouses—proved unsuccessful
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferret-legging
 

Swifty

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We found a few maggots crawling upwards on our home's backdoor yesterday .. horror film memories came flooding back but the internet reckons we've just got a dead bird or something in our guttering.
 

Mythopoeika

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My minor strangeness happened today at work. Very minor, yes.
I was in the lab doing some assembly work (putting some aluminium fascias on some cards (printed circuit boards).
Assembly used various components including 2 really small washers.
I counted out all the bits onto a clear bench with good lighting and noted that all parts were there when I began. When I got round to fitting the 2 washers, I couldn't find them anywhere. Looked on the floor, all over the bench. Nope. Not to be seen.

I now suspect that they have made the dimensional leap to the place where all socks and spoons end up.
 

mikfez

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We found a few maggots crawling upwards on our home's backdoor yesterday .. horror film memories came flooding back but the internet reckons we've just got a dead bird or something in our guttering.
While walking the dogs on Monday morning following the downpour - there were a large number of maggots crawling across the pavement and onto the road. I couldn't see any dead animal so I assumed they came up from the drain cover, fell from a tree or were the result of a rain of maggots!
 

INT21

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Something that happened back in the early seventies. And it was major strange, and very unnerving.

At the time I was going through a bad patch in my life. And was essentially homeless for a while. I had broken up with my first wife and had no place to go.

But I was driving a taxi at the time, so after work, usually about three AM, I would drive out to this little quarry place near the edge of the moors, park up and get a few hours sleep.

I'd done this a few times, and occasionally the police would ask what was going on. When I explained the situation they were happy to leave me alone.

But one night I reversed into the quarry as usual, opened the door, then quickly shut it and drove away as quickly as I safely could.
I was sure there was 'something' there. Something nasty. I could feel it.

I never went back there at night. And in the daytime it always felt normal.

Scared the hell out of me.

INT21.
 

Ringo

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My minor strangeness happened today at work. Very minor, yes.
I was in the lab doing some assembly work (putting some aluminium fascias on some cards (printed circuit boards).
Assembly used various components including 2 really small washers.
I counted out all the bits onto a clear bench with good lighting and noted that all parts were there when I began. When I got round to fitting the 2 washers, I couldn't find them anywhere. Looked on the floor, all over the bench. Nope. Not to be seen.

I now suspect that they have made the dimensional leap to the place where all socks and spoons end up.
I was tinkering with electronics yesterday and had all sorts of screws and small bits and bobs all over my work table. It's not unusual for me to lean on something and have it stick to the skin on my arm. Were you working with rolled up sleeves? Could the washers have stuck to your skin and then been dropped on the floor?
 

GNC

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Something that happened back in the early seventies. And it was major strange, and very unnerving.

At the time I was going through a bad patch in my life. And was essentially homeless for a while. I had broken up with my first wife and had no place to go.

But I was driving a taxi at the time, so after work, usually about three AM, I would drive out to this little quarry place near the edge of the moors, park up and get a few hours sleep.

I'd done this a few times, and occasionally the police would ask what was going on. When I explained the situation they were happy to leave me alone.

But one night I reversed into the quarry as usual, opened the door, then quickly shut it and drove away as quickly as I safely could.
I was sure there was 'something' there. Something nasty. I could feel it.

I never went back there at night. And in the daytime it always felt normal.

Scared the hell out of me.

INT21.
Could it have been a manifestation of your depressed mental state? Maybe your imagination forcing you to flee, or maybe something more "physical" that came from the same place, and had the same effect?
 

Mythopoeika

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I was tinkering with electronics yesterday and had all sorts of screws and small bits and bobs all over my work table. It's not unusual for me to lean on something and have it stick to the skin on my arm. Were you working with rolled up sleeves? Could the washers have stuck to your skin and then been dropped on the floor?
I checked that. Washers still missing.
 

INT21

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Could it have been a manifestation of your depressed mental state? Maybe your imagination forcing you to flee, or maybe something more "physical" that came from the same place, and had the same effect?
I don't think so.
Although it was a rough time, it was not particularly depressing. Also I had been there a few times, and nothing felt unusual until I opened the door.
 

INT21

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I vaguely recollect some tales. Ilkley Moor is quite large. People crossing have taken a wrong turn and died from exposure in winter. When the mist comes down one bit of moorland looks pretty much like another.
There have been a few ufo incidents there.
There is a bit of controversy as to whether what is called 'Ilkley Moor' is actually Rombald's Moor. There is a statue of the giant Rombald in Keighley shopping centre.
I'll have to check the OS map.

INT21.
 

EnolaGaia

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INT21

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The 'Baht 'at' Is a form of Earth spirit that roams Ilkley Moor mourning the loss of it's lover , the 'Ma' rejain'.

It entices people to wander of the only track across the moor when it is very misty. The doomed traveler hears a sad mournful wail and, thinking it is a fellow traveler in distress, walks off the track and is soon completely disorientated.

Their pathetic corps may be found by others days later.

People traveling across from Keighley to Ilkley are encouraged to sing the song 'Ilkla Moor Baht 'at' as loudly as possible and for as long as it takes to cross. This is why the song has so many verses.

It is said this comforts the Baht 'at, and it lets them pass unmolested.

INT21.
 

Shady

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Ahhh now i have heard that song, now i can at least pronounce the bugger, bar tat
 

INT21

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Pretty close, depends upon just where in the region you live.

I would pronounce it Bart 'aT.
 
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