A change of plan for Edmund's dinner tonight as Carole's ribs take aeons to cook. Instead we will be having Constance Bennett's Spanish Chicken. E sent a textual message asking "will it be touched by her cometary glory like James Agate suggests?"
Well we shall see...
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Finding himself in 1931 on a motor-tour of Scotland, and passing through “the grimmest town I ever visited” where the air was leaden with the stench of the local linoleum factory, and the depression hung heavy in the streets, James Agate chanced to notice a poster for a Constance Bennett film:
"I passed through many such towns, possibly less repulsive in that they were odourless, and across the darkling sky of each Constance Bennett trailed her cometary glory... It was then that I realised the inestimable boon of the cinema for those willing to take advantage of it, and how wrong those high-brows are who bleat against the cinema because as an instrument of culture it might be better than it is. Quite seriously, I am prepared to defend the position that it is better that yokels and chaw-bacons in Scotland, England, or any other country should have a false notion of culture rather than none at all."
Ah, the splendour that is James Agate. I think I shall now refer to the Scottish ex as the "chaw-bacon" in reverance to the skill of his penmanship. We are not worthy...
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