It is a truth universally acknowledged that the Erfurt latrine disaster is by far the topic that we receive the most messages about. Why this should be, we couldn't tell you, but one might of course speculate. Is it the thrilling combination of sewage and brutal, sudden death? Is it the reminder that life is fleeting, and all flesh is grass? Or is it that satisfying moment of realising that yes, for most people life is one long chain of really, really shitty moments, and it always has been, and it's not just you being paranoid and incompetent? Your guess is as good as ours - or, quite possibly, considering our track record of displaying an appalling lack of judgement, better.
If there is one person who, in stark contrast to us, has a long history of having excellent judgement, it is Our Favourite Aunt. She recently proved the excellence of said judgement by going to visit Monet's house and taking pictures of the toilets.
Is Monet's abluvium better than Bach's bog? You tell us!
Many thanks to this gem of an aunt - the most splendid of aunts; indeed, the aunt to end all aunts! - for her benevolent toilet photography!
Remember that time when we announced a toilet-paper origami competition, which resulted in people sending in actual photos? No, we didn't either. For this grievous error, we can only offer our sincerest apologies. There is probably an explanation for why this estimable and important project was lost in the mists of time, and that explanation is most likely that said mists of time were mostly opioid mists. However, we have now bribed the judges of our jury to reach a verdict.
We should probably pause, here, to review the entries. And before doing that, we should possibly attempt to explain what the toilet paper origami competition was, when it was, and why. There was a virtual, online event, this being the trend in 2020 for reasons we can't remember, and it was described thusly:
A further description inside the event read as follows:
Scrolling through the archive, we learn that the idea came from Tudor Friend and was thus, in keeping with that friend's personality, funny, creative and devilishly cunning!
The response to this clarion call of bog-related creativity was staggering. Staggering, we tell you! Here are all the entries, in chronological order. (We're not saying that some of the jurors submitted entries but we're also not saying that they didn't. The fact that Jonny entered a photo in a photo competition where the prize was a photo of Jonny dressed as a pirate no doubt says something about the modern era's lack of standards and post-post-modernist or perhaps even post-post-post-modernist atomisation and lack of coherence.)
Words cannot adequately express our gratitude to everyone who bravely entered this bizarre competition with such grace and stamina.
Before we tell you who the winner is, let us share the most elucidating comments from our international jury of experts. In no wise must the efforts of both ourselves and the jury be underestimated. This has been a long process, and has involved us insisting on motivations and writing anxious messages saying things like:
I'm going to ask you to motivate your answer, please. (Please. I've been doing this with students wanting a higher grade all afternoon. *it says clearly in the question that you have to motivate your answer, for instance by illustrating it with examples *)
On being told that this particular juror preferred a particular entry, we had to push - yes, even after the heart-rending plea above, we had to keep pushing - for a motivation:
What's good about [this entry]? Is it, for instance, the quality of the origami, or the description and puns?
The reply arrived, without hesitation:
I must admit I let myself be overly influenced by puns. That totally affected my judgement.
Another juror said, about the same entry:
I wonder how long it took to make the rose. I would have developed haemorrhoids. [...] Still, I vote for the rose. Both for creativity and sheer bravado.
And the rose is, indeed, the winner! Here it is again, for your enjoyment:
We shall be contacting the winner and arranging for Jonny to send them a signed photo of him dressed as a pirate. Be warned, however, that last time we arranged a photo competition, the prize was a signed photo of Jonny wearing a trench coat, and it took him four years to send it.
We would be remiss if we, after this bog-related onslaught, didn't also share the latest toilet photo that Jonny shared with us. Please note that it comes with a trigger warning for royalist sentiments, sartorial genius and unbridled pizzazz:
Since we have established that a) seven people read this blog and b) none of those seven ever listens to any of the Festive Videos, it matters not one whit which video we select to be this post's Festive Video and thus you have only yourselves to blame for us selecting this one:
If you'd asked us, just yesterday, if there is any hope for, point to, or reason behind, anything, our answer would have been an expression of pessimism, articulated with our characteristic wit and espièglerie. However, that was before we received the following message from Lithuanian Friend:
It arrived!!!
Did Jonny put the photo in a gold frame ("more bronze", according to Lithuanian Friend, but we're definitely not going to be splitting any hairs on this issue) and include a message written on a piece of toilet roll? Reader, he did.
This message, and our reaction to it, will of course only make sense if one remembers the events of the 2017 era, when we advertised a toilet graffiti competition, announcing that the prize for the lucky winner was a signed photograph of Jonny, wearing his rampantly attractive trench-coat. The winner was announced, in due course, and waited, and waited, and waited, for her prize. She then waited some more. Then forgot all about it. Then briefly waited a bit more maybe two years ago when Jonny had a fleeting stint of remembering and attempted to send the photo, then forgot again, then waited some more, then forgot again - until yesterday! When this treasure of treasures finally arrived! We
don't know if Lithuanian Friend is actually clasping
this photographic record of the hunka-hunka-hotness of Jonny (who we count as a
friend for administrative reasons) to her heart at this very moment, but since it's
the only reasonable course of action, considering the circumstances,
were going to assume it.
This just proves
that you literally never know what's waiting behind the U-bend! Usually, of course, it's a work meeting set in a muddy field strewn with landmines, bear traps and horror clowns and peopled entirely by self-aggrandising half-wits spouting inane business-speak clichés at each other in grating voices while you fantasise about jumping in front of a train; or a letter from the tax office. BUT. But, but, but. Sometimes it's a picture of Jonny, wearing a trench coat, in a gold frame! (Feel free to read any meaning you like into this delightful metaphor.)
In order to make up for all the self-aggrandising half-wits and horror clowns, the Fates have filled our world with kind people who send us exciting toilet pictures which we have, for eleven years, consistently failed to find a good way of organising. (There was a period when we had what we optimistically referred to as an archive. It ended with us imagining this would-be organised collection of files as a medieval crypt, bursting with dead nuns, randy monks and, no doubt for good reasons, pheasants.) So thanks, everyone, for all the photos, but we're fucked if we know where any of them are. In an attempt to fill your hearts with a modicum of joy this Christmastime, here are instead some photos we've taken ourselves.
First up, from Kyrkogatanfem in Lund, which calls itself, excitingly, Negroni- and wine bar:
We seem to remember discussing the concept of the Apérol Spritz once with an educational friend of ours from Italy, and also drinking Apérol Spritz in conjunction with Our Favourite Aunt and Australian Friend, one sunny day in Copenhagen.
This toilet has it all: It's clean, it's stylish, it's disability friendly, it's got a mixer tap, it's got pleasant soap, it's got paper towels, it's got a festive poster. This one, friends, goes up to eleven. (We could apply our long-forgotten toilet-marking scale to this toilet, but believe us, you really, really don't want us to. (Let us know if you'd like us to start using the long-forgotten toilet-marking scale again.))
If memory serves we went to this delightful Negroni- and wine bar with Our Favourite Aunt some time ago, in order to enjoy, believe it or not, a Negroni, and wine.
As a special treat because we're nearing Christmas (celebrated, as all right-thinking people (ie basically the populations of Scandiwegia, and Colombia) know, on the 24th of December), here are pictures of the toilets in another place in Lund called Klostergatans Vin och Delikatess where, believe it or not, you can get served both wine and delicious food, and where we enjoyed the festive environs with Our Favourite Aunt. As delightful as the food and drink in this place is, however, the highlight is clearly the toilet. We seem to remember there being a queue, but said queue was peopled, as far as we can recall, entirely by delightful people bursting with wit and (probably; it's hard to give expression to the higher reaches of human virtues in a toilet queue) sophistication.
Is this, basically, a gold toilet with a mixer tap and a wholly inoffensive bin? Reader, it is!
What a door! What a night! (As Elvis would no doubt have exclaimed, huskily, had he ever seen this door.)
A disability friendly bog, a friendly chair for resting, and a hygienic toilet-roll holder. Come what may, we have experienced this.
We're going to leave you now, but not before blessing your evening with a Festive Video. Here is a song to listen to on repeat while you wait for your metaphorical golden-framed photo of Jonny, and/or drink your liver to smithereens.
Time, allegedly, flies. We're not personally convinced that this is the correct verb to attach to the fourth dimension of the universe, but we really, really, really don't have the energy to argue with anyone over anything. (It seems, for instance, that we have entered an uneasy peace with Shewee Fiend Friend on the subject of toilet roll orientation.) Whatever means of transport you choose to ascribe to time, however, it is an inescapable fact that this bog blog has been a vehicle for ranting on the internet for ten years. Readers who are perhaps not as regular as they would like might appreciate an explanation of how this came about.
Once upon a time, in a pub far, far away (Micklegate, in York, arguably counts as pretty far away for most people), we were ranting. Memory is a fickle mistress and Yorkshire ale is a
potent brew, and thus details are hazy, but we’re reasonably certain that we
were gesticulating, possibly even raising our voice to a far from genteel
pitch. What were we ranting about? you wonder. World poverty? Slave labour in
sweatshops? The utter, unforgivable shitness of the Eurovision Song Contest?
No. We were ranting about British plumbing.
Scandinavia
has many advantages. The twentieth century played the part of fairy godmother
to this portion of the world, blessing it with democracy, universal healthcare,
and excellent sanitation. As a result, its inhabitants are prone to exhibiting exorbitant,
overwhelming smugness. Send an unsuspecting Scandi out in the world and they
are susceptible to criticise other nations’ sanitary arrangements in an
insufferably rude manner. Not because they wish to insult, you understand, but
because they are flabbergasted. When it is demonstrably possible to construct
toilets and pipes that work well, a Dane, Norwegian or Swede might reason, why
on earth would you deliberately choose to make a cackhanded job of your bogs?
Said Scandiwegians are perhaps particularly prone to ask this far-from-rhetorical
question when in the British Isles, which, though rich in culture and steeped
in history of the most exciting kind, are deplorably lacking in logical
plumbing. Friendship with such a Dane, Norwegian, or Swede can often be
challenging to a native of the misty isles in the West. Whatever laudable
qualities such persons may possess, they are prone to being overshadowed by the
Scandiwegian propensity to rant about mixer-taps. It is not what your average
Brit appreciates, when in the pub, trying to maintain an enjoyable
conversation. Such a Brit, who is likely to be a cultured, refined and
well-travelled person, is not to be blamed for exclaiming, in an exasperated
manner, for the love of God, why don’t you start a blog? (For this was
the year of our Lord 2010, and blogs were still a thing.)
Our
exasperated friend, whom we have referred to ever since as Enlightened Friend,
uttered this impassioned plea not due to his belief in our writing skills or
ability to turn an interesting tale, but due to his intense irritation with our
constant complaints about British plumbing. Enlightened Friend’s hope was that,
in writing down our criticisms of British taps on the internet and perhaps
striking up friendships with other weirdoes there, we would cease to complain
about them to him, and he would in future be able to drink his pint in peace.
Being easily influenced, we happily took Enlightened Friend at his word, and
started a toilet blog (or, as it soon became known, the intellectual bog blog).
Indeed, so excited were we by the prospect of pontificating to, if not the
world at large, then at least a certain small portion of our acquaintance, that
we wrote three posts on the same day. The very first one, published on 18 October 2010, said, simply and
perhaps ominously,
Most British people see no need for
mixer taps, as when they do exist, they don't work anyway. The rest of
the world disagrees. The controversy continues.
As we have often had occasion to mention, we are grateful for all the friends (including Jonny, who counts as a friend for administrative reasons) and family who send us interesting toilet pictures from around the world. Due to our hectic lifestyle, commitment to watching Toby Stephens wearing pirate trousers, and unreasonably lengthy hangovers, these pictures tend to not be put to profitable use by means of toilet blogging, but congregate in weird corners of the internet, tucked away in a multitude of apps and accounts, where they languish due to lack of light. (We have, for years, envisaged our archive as a dark crypt peopled by ghosts, dead nuns, and pheasants, such as described in the 1796 horror classic The Monk. You may read increasingly incoherent references to said archive here, here, here, here, and here.) Our Mum reminded us recently of some photos she sent us two years ago, which we thought we'd publish in this, our ten-year-anniversay bog blog post. We've also got pictures from other favourite contributors, such as Our Favourite Aunt, Intellectual Friend, and, last but definitely not least, Jonny. The fact that we thusly have pictures from Sweden, Denmark, Norway and the UK is no doubt a coincidence.
We decided, in a moment of unrestrained nostalgia, to return to the points system. It took a while before we could even find it, but it turns out we'd preserved it and we have inserted it at the bottom of this post for the benefit of scientifically-minded readers. Below is a picture sent to us by Our Mum from the Martini restaurant in Kristianstad, Sweden. According to what you might call, for convenience, the logic of our points system, these facilities get 9 points. We couldn't tell from the photo whether the soap was pleasantly scented or whether there was a coat-hook sturdy enough for a rucksack, so we had to restrain ourselves somewhat in our scoring. Nonetheless, it looks like an excellent, comfortable and laudably hygienic toilet.
Martini, in Kristianstad: 9 points
Next up is an amusing photo, also from Our Mum, of a helpful sign at the airport in Bergen, Norway.
We hope, for the sake of humanity, that these are not unisex toilets. We have mentioned, on occasion, how much we loathe unisex toilets.
Our Favourite Aunt is a faithful correspondent and sent us, in 2016, the following photos from the porcelain museum in Gustavsberg, Sweden.
An exciting glimpse of hygienic porcelain from times past
This is a toilet quote by August Strindberg. Not being fans of Strindberg, we're not going to bother translating it. Nonetheless, we appreciate Our Favourite Aunt's contribution.
We mentioned earlier our conception of our toilet photo archive as a dark, dripping crypt. Perhaps in the light of that metaphor, these pictures, from Intellectual Friend, are rather apt. They depict the gents' toilets at the Peder Oxe tavern in Copenhagen, where we seem to remember brandishing a flagon of ale with Intellectual Friend in 2017. Are the toilets in the cellar? We can't remember, but it looks as though they are rich in old stone and some eccentricity - both things that we love.
Danes are depressingly apt to install what we call the subjunctive mixer tap, but here it seems they have actually hardened the fuck up and got it right.
We're fairly sure that we have, at one or more points during the past ten years, expressed an opinion about urinals. Potentially we approve.
Intellectual Friend referred to this as a "tapestried toilet pic". It is perhaps fitting in light of our history of drinking in medieval milieus.
Ahh. Nothing warms the cockles like correctly hung toilet paper!
We're reaching the end of this blast from the past. How about some hyper-modernity, for the sake of contrast? Here's a photo of Jonny, in 2020, adhering to corona regulations.
Our spontaneous reaction to this photo was:
Plus points for the clear, helpful and polite signage, not sure about the mask. On the one hand the Counsel is all in favour of hygiene and adequate protection, on the other hand it doesn't like restrictions on perving. We shall leave it to the fans to decide!
Jonny argued that the mask is in contrast to his top, calling the look "street thug's soft side". Ever striving for fairness, we promised to take his argument under consideration.
Reader, it is time for a Festive Video. What's more suitable than this favourite, which has given us intellectual solace on many an occasion! (Blogger have changed their layout and we have no idea how to intelligently insert videos any more, so to be on the safe side here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lv-Pi3RKY68)
Festive Video: Public Information Film - UK Separate Taps
We gave up all belief in the logic of our points system long ago. But
sometimes we use it just for kicks, and when we do, the points awarded
are as follows:
* Covered loo roll holder: +1 * Loo roll lying loose: -1 * Normal white loo roll: +1 * Unbleached: +2 * Quilted or coloured: -1
* Bin in stall covered: +1 *Bin not pushing unpleasantly against user: +2
* Easy-to-use flush, not requiring great mechanical strength: +1 * Water-saving: +2 * Hard to use: -1
* Toilets clean: +1 * Toilets dirty: -1
* Revolving towel: +1 * Air dryer: -1 * Hygienic air dryer: +1 * Normal towel (unless clean and displaying evidence of being frequently changed): -1
* Push lever or other easy-to-use tap: +1 * Photo-cell tap: +2 * Lack of hot water: -1 * Unpleasant, separated taps: -1
*Pleasant soap: +1 * Also handlotion: +2 * No soap: -1
*Coat hook: +1 * Coat hook sturdy enough for rucksack or other large bag: +2 * No coat hook: -1
* Possibility of opening door without touching handle on exit: +1 bonus point.
* Toilets with noise-insulating cubicles (or no cubicle): +1 bonus point.
