On Friday Saturday evening, I went out for a noisy drink with Mr and Mrs Wardytron, their livejournal friend Jim(?) and a posse of goths. Thank you, Wardy, for inviting me. It was fun.
One of the few serious topics of conversation that came up was the new Conservative Party leader. It’s not been often in the past few years that the words “Conservative Party leader” and “serious” have appeared in the same sentence, except when “serious” has been followed by “difficulties”. Wardy suggested that now the leader of the Labour Party will be the one with the difficulties because the media have decided on a story and the story is that David Cameron is a plausible contender for Prime Minister; the media have gone further than that in fact: they are already writing the story of his triumph over Gordon Brown. I don’t believe that it’s going to work out like that in reality, but things are certainly going to be more interesting from now on.
What worried me slightly yesterday was that the Observer‘s Money columnist William Keegan, he of the unchanging Dean Friedman hair-and-tache and unreconstructed Callaghan-era economics, wrote a piece yesterday about how Gordon Brown had nothing to worry about. Since Keegan’s predictions about the British economy and his Old Labour criticisms of the Chancellor’s policies have been pretty consistently wrong throughout the reign of the Blair administration I am now officially scared.
I wonder what the collective noun is for a group of goths?
I believe that Flock can be used, especially if there are a lot of Crows around.
I think the term is an Affectation of Goths, although you will also hear of a Wilt.
A death-wish of Goths? A self-harm of Goths? A pale imitation of Goths? An Almighty of Goths? An Alone & Palely Loitering of Goths?
I had always understood the correct collective to be a sulk of goths.
But some of the above could be acceptable synonyms.
Don’t know about Goths, but the collective noun for teachers is a ‘whinge’. Does that help?
Surely it’s a whinge of farmers? And I’m leaning toward either a mission of goths, or, by analogy with the crows again, a suicide of goths. [Latter not safe for work.]
Hi Damian, yes it was me on Saturday, nice to meet you!
Oh, yes, Saturday, not Friday. That’s now the third time in a month I’ve assigned the wrong day of the week to my weekend outings. I can’t even blame them on having been stoned/drunk. Nice to meet you too, Jim.