Ladies and gentlemen - and others:
Welcome to the chronicles of Lord Bassington-Bassington, Lord of Little Storping in the Swuff. Little Storping is a quaint and charming township which is hard to place on a map, but seems to be located somewhere between England’s Lake District and the outskirts of the Norwegian capital.
As His Lordship spends far too much time sniffing out interesting things in music, books, films and so on, this blog is primarily intended to be a log of His explorations.
I, your humble chronicler, is merely His Lordship’s secretary. I’d refer to myself as the Watson to his Lordship’s Holmes, if that weren’t such a gross exaggeration of my own mental faculties and literary skill.
So who is Lord Bassington-Bassington? To introduce him, I could do worse than borrow the text from His Lordship’s MySpace page:
While born into a family rich in talent and learning, Lord Bassington-Bassington has so far displayed little of either. As a result, His Lordship yearns for what he calls "the good old days", a time when gentlemen could be admired for their lineage and spend their lives as amateurs and dilettantes.
Due to these yearnings, elitist statements such as ”if it’s not a Basset, it’s just a dog”, and the fact that his lordly title is in dispute (to put it mildly), it has been claimed that Lord Bassington-Bassington suffers from ideas above his station. Such accusations are flatly denied by the good Lord, who claims that “quite the contrary – We are rather down-to-earth”.
While he might seem haughty and snobbish, he is not so. Such an impression is rather a result of him being sorely lacking in the social graces, the result of much time spent alone with his muzzle buried in books, or exploring films and phonographic records.
In his manners and appearance, he aspires to be an old-fashioned gentleman and dandy. These tendencies are, however, curtailed by a natural laziness and lack of ready funds to spend on footwear and overcoats.
Philosophically, Lord Bassington-Bassington occupies an obscure space somewhere between the Enlightenment and Romanticism. While this might seem like a philosophically stimulating place to be, in practice it just means that he's a few hundred years out of date. He is an Atheist, and while this means he has no hopes of going to Dog Heaven, he is consoled that there is no Dog Hell to fear. He tends, however, to sympathize with decent, intelligent people of all religious persuasions.
Through the club by the name of The Heretical Cellar, Lord Bassington-Bassington has found a way to inflict his interests upon the public. The club is devoted to lectures about strange and obscure subjects, as well as concerts, and the Lord occasionally spins music there.
Despite all his shortcomings, and to the astonishment of all that know him (and most of all to himself), Lord Bassington-Bassington has managed to become married to a Lady rich in all the virtues he himself lacks.
So, good Sirs and Madams, welcome to Lord Bassington-Bassington's world.
(His Lordship captured in a moment of rare enthusiasm. Lord Bassington-Bassington would also like to express his hope that the fine gentlemen who created this photograph, fellow canine Baron von Bulldog and human camera maestro Marcel Lelienhof, will allow him to use it for his blog, which is surely the very definition of a non-profit endeavour).