Big fuss in Sweden over the fact that at their Crown Princess's wedding, she was 'given away' by her father, King Gustav XVI. Up go the shouts, 'Sexist', 'Backlash for feminism' and even the bishops have joined in condemning it. Nine of the buggers condemned the whole idea, not that it stopped a bunch of 4 of them attending. Did they get a fee I wonder?
Well, in the first case, the girl herself asked for a ceremony like this and surely we should respect her wishes.
My take is this. 'Giving away' is probably the wrong term and maybe the use of it arouses these stupid reactions. The woman is not a piece of property. I see it as giving away the duty of care from the father to the groom. You always have a duty of care to your children, whatever sex they be but here I believe the dad is making a statement. 'Look, mate, she's yours to look after now.'
Anything else is a load of bollocks.
Wednesday 23 June 2010
Monday 21 June 2010
Instruction manuals
Terrible things, are they not? For the most part, you get the impression that they are written by morons for a public with all the talents of Einstein. Truth is that like software they are written by asocial nerds with very limited experience of the way the rest of us live our lives. But let me go back to the beginning.
As a student at University, I was, for the first time out on my own and that meant getting clothes washed. So you go the launderette. Rows of machines and large instructions on the wall. I failed immediately. Did I put the money in before or after I loaded the washing? If I had put the money in first as the instructions suggested (sequentially), would the bloody thing start off its cycle without my washing? I asked an older lady next to me who condescendingly told me told me that it was obvious that I put the clothing in first. Obvious? Was it fuck? Money in was no.1 and clothes in were no.2 on the list on the wall.
Yes I know that all instructions confuse me. That is because I am not stupid and quick to spot the ambiguities and paradoxes in most manuals. If I had the time and inclination (of which I have neither) I reckon I could do a better job on most of them.
Last night, I decided to record something for the first time on this digital TV playback recorder I bought a few months ago. Simple as the 6 page leaflet said – press the ‘Record’ button and it will record the programme you are watching. What ‘Record’ button? No bloody button marked ‘Record’ on the entire remote control. Well I ain’t daft for I had already downloaded the full instruction manual onto to my PC so I go look at it. And guess what? The so-called ‘Record’ button is the one with a red spot on it. Obvious? Well not to me. And in any case there are loads of buttons with a written legend so why not this one? Not only that but we have what is known as a ‘red button’ feature which brings up all sorts of info about a programme. Of course that ‘red button’ has an oblong red spot on it.
Then we move to the DVD recorder which I have had for years. It plays and records DVD discs but also has a hard drive. I usually use the HDD but sometimes burn things to disc. Every time I do this out comes the manual but I have sorted it now. You need to consult say pages 6, 34 and 276 and flip back and forth. So I have written little notes on each page like ‘Now fuck off to p34 for the next step.’
Same with camera manuals and that’s from someone who has been driving SLR’s for 36 years.
And to cap it all, you get fewer and fewer printed manuals these days, just some bloody CD that you have to load and scroll through.
I blame much of this on those software nerds. Unlike the actual manufacture of a product, software is a one-off cost which can be used to pile in functions that few want but expands the manual to gargantuan proportions.
Guess I am getting old.
As a student at University, I was, for the first time out on my own and that meant getting clothes washed. So you go the launderette. Rows of machines and large instructions on the wall. I failed immediately. Did I put the money in before or after I loaded the washing? If I had put the money in first as the instructions suggested (sequentially), would the bloody thing start off its cycle without my washing? I asked an older lady next to me who condescendingly told me told me that it was obvious that I put the clothing in first. Obvious? Was it fuck? Money in was no.1 and clothes in were no.2 on the list on the wall.
Yes I know that all instructions confuse me. That is because I am not stupid and quick to spot the ambiguities and paradoxes in most manuals. If I had the time and inclination (of which I have neither) I reckon I could do a better job on most of them.
Last night, I decided to record something for the first time on this digital TV playback recorder I bought a few months ago. Simple as the 6 page leaflet said – press the ‘Record’ button and it will record the programme you are watching. What ‘Record’ button? No bloody button marked ‘Record’ on the entire remote control. Well I ain’t daft for I had already downloaded the full instruction manual onto to my PC so I go look at it. And guess what? The so-called ‘Record’ button is the one with a red spot on it. Obvious? Well not to me. And in any case there are loads of buttons with a written legend so why not this one? Not only that but we have what is known as a ‘red button’ feature which brings up all sorts of info about a programme. Of course that ‘red button’ has an oblong red spot on it.
Then we move to the DVD recorder which I have had for years. It plays and records DVD discs but also has a hard drive. I usually use the HDD but sometimes burn things to disc. Every time I do this out comes the manual but I have sorted it now. You need to consult say pages 6, 34 and 276 and flip back and forth. So I have written little notes on each page like ‘Now fuck off to p34 for the next step.’
Same with camera manuals and that’s from someone who has been driving SLR’s for 36 years.
And to cap it all, you get fewer and fewer printed manuals these days, just some bloody CD that you have to load and scroll through.
I blame much of this on those software nerds. Unlike the actual manufacture of a product, software is a one-off cost which can be used to pile in functions that few want but expands the manual to gargantuan proportions.
Guess I am getting old.
Friday 18 June 2010
Crap food
We live in a world of processed food, well those of us in the West at least. Sure you can buy fresh produce and even unprocessed things like some meats and cheeses but even then you simply don’t know how much crap has been involved in the food chain. You know, cows fed on shit, farmed fish fed on God knows what and pigs up to their thighs in muck.
Watched a programme about this the other week. Didn’t realise that cheese slices (which I never eat) contain no more than 11% cheese and often less. And then of course, there is that liquid cheese, aka Squeezy Cheese. Buggered if I know what is in that but I bet cheese doesn’t feature highly. Surprisingly, when I went to a kitchen cupboard, I found the packet cheese sauce actually contained 32% cheddar cheese powder.
I could do a whole programme about this myself, indeed a whole series and you’d probably be vomiting well before the end. Ever tried Kentucky Fried Chicken, Southern Fried Chicken or any of its imitators, all alleged to be coated in a secret recipe batter? I bet it’s a secret alright; they’d probably get prosecuted if they ever published it. A dubious piece of chicken of unknown origin coated in a chewy batter shit. If it’s chicken nuggets, which are supposed to be breast meat but could be reformed parson’s noses, then they have a similar consistency to sawdust.
We all know how suspect mass produced pork pies are but over here a firm called Ginsters has taken the concept to epic heights. Based in Cornwall and making much of that, they sell a wide range of rubbishy stuff – pies, rolls, lattices – all filled with an anonymous mush of meat and veg, each of which is virtually indistinguishable from others. I know about these buggers: they are ubiquitous at our motorway serving stations and other watering holes. Sure they may say things like 27% beef but what beef? Mechanically recovered beef, cow’s cheeks? You can bet your life it ain’t ground sirloin steak.
Then we get cabbage which your mom tells you is good for you – lots of iron. I concede that you can just about cope with cabbage in sauerkraut where its abominable taste is smothered by vinegar and I don’t mind it chopped and stir fried a la Chinese but I wonder why I bother. Of course the nadir of cabbage concoctions is coleslaw. Chopped bits drowned in that awful mayonnaise and it still stinks of cabbage. (I cannot forgive the French for mayonnaise, not that I can forgive them for much at all. How on Earth they came up with this substance defeats me, all the more because I generally think that they cook well.)
The world of crap food does not end with the processed stuff. There is plenty of other muck around and some of it is even natural. Consider lettuce and rocket leaves. The first must approach 100% water and is the stuff that padded out the salad that your mom used to give you. I suspect grass would taste better although I understand that it is harder to digest which is why cattle have 4 stomach compartments to break it down. Rocket is just a middle class fad but you look at any recent cookery book and they are bunging the stuff into every salad. Sounds much more up to date than watercress, doesn’t it? Yet the latter has a more peppery taste.
Fruit has taste but root crops have so little which is why we need to dress them up. I could live my life without carrots, turnips, swedes, parsnips and the like. Strangely I actually like potatoes be they be in chip form or boiled little ones swirled in butter and crushed sea salt.
I could go on but I guess you are bored by now so just turn to that semi-processed crap which you are told to eat everyday – cereals. Basic cereals are mushy shit so the Americans with their fondness for mixing 12 to 20 flavours in one dish, dress them up with sugar, honey, nuts, raisins and pretty much anything which will remove their blandness. Who in their right mind would choose porridge over smoky bacon? Sure they may help the digestive tract and help you shit well but there are other ways to solve this problem.
Only ever had a shitting issue me and that was back in the 70’s when I ate really crap food. Since then I have stuck to things like meat, fresh/frozen veg especially pulses, bread, cheese and I have had no problems. My daily shit takes less than a minute. I dump bulky turds quickly and it’s all over. No time to read the newspaper even.
It’s all getting like the third world. The only stuff worth eating must come in its own skin and you’d better wash that first. And of course those poor buggers have to put up with eternal rice and ugali.
Watched a programme about this the other week. Didn’t realise that cheese slices (which I never eat) contain no more than 11% cheese and often less. And then of course, there is that liquid cheese, aka Squeezy Cheese. Buggered if I know what is in that but I bet cheese doesn’t feature highly. Surprisingly, when I went to a kitchen cupboard, I found the packet cheese sauce actually contained 32% cheddar cheese powder.
I could do a whole programme about this myself, indeed a whole series and you’d probably be vomiting well before the end. Ever tried Kentucky Fried Chicken, Southern Fried Chicken or any of its imitators, all alleged to be coated in a secret recipe batter? I bet it’s a secret alright; they’d probably get prosecuted if they ever published it. A dubious piece of chicken of unknown origin coated in a chewy batter shit. If it’s chicken nuggets, which are supposed to be breast meat but could be reformed parson’s noses, then they have a similar consistency to sawdust.
We all know how suspect mass produced pork pies are but over here a firm called Ginsters has taken the concept to epic heights. Based in Cornwall and making much of that, they sell a wide range of rubbishy stuff – pies, rolls, lattices – all filled with an anonymous mush of meat and veg, each of which is virtually indistinguishable from others. I know about these buggers: they are ubiquitous at our motorway serving stations and other watering holes. Sure they may say things like 27% beef but what beef? Mechanically recovered beef, cow’s cheeks? You can bet your life it ain’t ground sirloin steak.
Then we get cabbage which your mom tells you is good for you – lots of iron. I concede that you can just about cope with cabbage in sauerkraut where its abominable taste is smothered by vinegar and I don’t mind it chopped and stir fried a la Chinese but I wonder why I bother. Of course the nadir of cabbage concoctions is coleslaw. Chopped bits drowned in that awful mayonnaise and it still stinks of cabbage. (I cannot forgive the French for mayonnaise, not that I can forgive them for much at all. How on Earth they came up with this substance defeats me, all the more because I generally think that they cook well.)
The world of crap food does not end with the processed stuff. There is plenty of other muck around and some of it is even natural. Consider lettuce and rocket leaves. The first must approach 100% water and is the stuff that padded out the salad that your mom used to give you. I suspect grass would taste better although I understand that it is harder to digest which is why cattle have 4 stomach compartments to break it down. Rocket is just a middle class fad but you look at any recent cookery book and they are bunging the stuff into every salad. Sounds much more up to date than watercress, doesn’t it? Yet the latter has a more peppery taste.
Fruit has taste but root crops have so little which is why we need to dress them up. I could live my life without carrots, turnips, swedes, parsnips and the like. Strangely I actually like potatoes be they be in chip form or boiled little ones swirled in butter and crushed sea salt.
I could go on but I guess you are bored by now so just turn to that semi-processed crap which you are told to eat everyday – cereals. Basic cereals are mushy shit so the Americans with their fondness for mixing 12 to 20 flavours in one dish, dress them up with sugar, honey, nuts, raisins and pretty much anything which will remove their blandness. Who in their right mind would choose porridge over smoky bacon? Sure they may help the digestive tract and help you shit well but there are other ways to solve this problem.
Only ever had a shitting issue me and that was back in the 70’s when I ate really crap food. Since then I have stuck to things like meat, fresh/frozen veg especially pulses, bread, cheese and I have had no problems. My daily shit takes less than a minute. I dump bulky turds quickly and it’s all over. No time to read the newspaper even.
It’s all getting like the third world. The only stuff worth eating must come in its own skin and you’d better wash that first. And of course those poor buggers have to put up with eternal rice and ugali.
Community leaders
Who the fuck are they? Speaking for myself, I simply don't feel anyone is leading me. Indeed apart from friends and family, I doubt if anyone gives a bugger about me.
But out they come on the news when tragedy strikes, be it a natural disaster or a riot or some other event which causes trouble for people. You have all heard it, 'Community leaders are calling for peace tonight,' or 'Community leaders are trying to help the community to get over the shock,' and so on and so on.
Quite honestly, if my house was torched by some raving bastards, I'd want the fire brigade here first and then the police hunting for the sods that perpetrated the attack.
More often than not, these so called community leaders are of a religious brand; you know the sort you have neither seen nor met in the last 20 years or ever. Do I really need to be told that 'God is merciful' in the aftermath of an earthquake? My last contact with religion was but a week ago when I met two nice Mormon lads in the street. Apart from that, I cannot recall any contact with any church of any type for donkey's years.
Local councillors and parliamentary candidates might be thought to be community leaders but all they want from me is my vote. Actually, that may be a bit unfair. They do respond when I harrass them and some have been helpful but more often than not, it has been me leading them rather than the other way around.
So I am lost. I suspect these community leaders are a media invention.
But out they come on the news when tragedy strikes, be it a natural disaster or a riot or some other event which causes trouble for people. You have all heard it, 'Community leaders are calling for peace tonight,' or 'Community leaders are trying to help the community to get over the shock,' and so on and so on.
Quite honestly, if my house was torched by some raving bastards, I'd want the fire brigade here first and then the police hunting for the sods that perpetrated the attack.
More often than not, these so called community leaders are of a religious brand; you know the sort you have neither seen nor met in the last 20 years or ever. Do I really need to be told that 'God is merciful' in the aftermath of an earthquake? My last contact with religion was but a week ago when I met two nice Mormon lads in the street. Apart from that, I cannot recall any contact with any church of any type for donkey's years.
Local councillors and parliamentary candidates might be thought to be community leaders but all they want from me is my vote. Actually, that may be a bit unfair. They do respond when I harrass them and some have been helpful but more often than not, it has been me leading them rather than the other way around.
So I am lost. I suspect these community leaders are a media invention.
Thursday 17 June 2010
Self belief
Never forget that some of you are only where you are because of me. That is not conceit. It is a fact.
All I ever had to do was to have faith and show you the power and ability of your own self. I just had to show you to believe in yourself.
You were the one with skills, skills I never had. All you needed was courage.
A girl once split up with me because she said that I would change her. She was right. I did not set out to change her. Dammit, I fell in love with her as she was. But yes I would have changed her. Nobody taught me this; it just happens and I have no control over it.
All I ever had to do was to have faith and show you the power and ability of your own self. I just had to show you to believe in yourself.
You were the one with skills, skills I never had. All you needed was courage.
A girl once split up with me because she said that I would change her. She was right. I did not set out to change her. Dammit, I fell in love with her as she was. But yes I would have changed her. Nobody taught me this; it just happens and I have no control over it.
Wednesday 16 June 2010
Management games
Back in 1988, Lucas Industries, my employer thought that we all needed 'Strategic Leadership' training. The top brass were sent on a course to INSEAD at Fontainebleu in France, allegedly Europe's top business school. It consisted of daily lectures and practicals plus a management game after dinner. (Not exactly the best time or situation to manage a business but we'll let that go. After all Churchill once said that he had taken more out of alcohol, than alcohol had taken out of him. All he ever did was manage a war on brandy and cigars. Try that INSEAD.)
My boss enjoyed it although he was well pissed when two of his team got so bored with it all that they buggered off home on the pretext that they had real businesses to run. They were French of course and you know they are far more interested in wine and women.
We lesser beings, aka middle management, were despatched to a hotel in Telford, Shropshire in the middle of bloody nowhere. (Telford is like Milton Keynes. You know, 'Happiness is Milton Keynes in your rear view mirror.) Same format though and lecturers from INSEAD. When the lectures were over, we repaired to the bar and then to dinner. Then around 8pm (well oiled) teams of abt 6 of us retired to hotel bedrooms to play the game. Think we had to quit at 10 pm which was OK cus we could go back to the bar.
The game was driven by Lotus 123 and you were given data on the company you were supposed to be managing. You then had to make the usual decisions on revenue and capital expenditure and things to grow the company profitably. At the end of the session, you saved all your data to disc and handed it in to the supervisors for analysis and then you got an outcome disc the next day.
It was fiercely competitive and even the lecturers warned us that we may have been taking it too seriously. As ever, the academics missed the bloody point; real life is fucking competitive. But I digress.
Our team decided, first night, that the game was a load of bollocks and we set about discovering the algorithms that drove it. Hard work for they were well hidden. No hitting F2 to discover the formula. We took about 1hr 45 on this each night so we only got 15 mins to enter our data. It was of course complete guesswork and we were last of the lot on the first and subsequent nights.
Things went from bad to worse for us but we finally cracked it on the penultimate night. On the final night we did what we knew what we had to do. Not quickly enough though. On the final day we rose from bottom to 2nd. Given another day (which you would get in real life) we would have thrashed their arses.
I should point out that each session represented a year in the life of the fictitious company we were managing. Fair enough in itself but you cannot realistically compress a year's decision making into 2 hours. Add to that the fact that the way we played it would have put us in liquidation in year 3 and you can see how unreal the whole thing was.
As I have said before, nothing in this world fits you for running a business, like actually running one. That's 'cock on the block' time.
My boss enjoyed it although he was well pissed when two of his team got so bored with it all that they buggered off home on the pretext that they had real businesses to run. They were French of course and you know they are far more interested in wine and women.
We lesser beings, aka middle management, were despatched to a hotel in Telford, Shropshire in the middle of bloody nowhere. (Telford is like Milton Keynes. You know, 'Happiness is Milton Keynes in your rear view mirror.) Same format though and lecturers from INSEAD. When the lectures were over, we repaired to the bar and then to dinner. Then around 8pm (well oiled) teams of abt 6 of us retired to hotel bedrooms to play the game. Think we had to quit at 10 pm which was OK cus we could go back to the bar.
The game was driven by Lotus 123 and you were given data on the company you were supposed to be managing. You then had to make the usual decisions on revenue and capital expenditure and things to grow the company profitably. At the end of the session, you saved all your data to disc and handed it in to the supervisors for analysis and then you got an outcome disc the next day.
It was fiercely competitive and even the lecturers warned us that we may have been taking it too seriously. As ever, the academics missed the bloody point; real life is fucking competitive. But I digress.
Our team decided, first night, that the game was a load of bollocks and we set about discovering the algorithms that drove it. Hard work for they were well hidden. No hitting F2 to discover the formula. We took about 1hr 45 on this each night so we only got 15 mins to enter our data. It was of course complete guesswork and we were last of the lot on the first and subsequent nights.
Things went from bad to worse for us but we finally cracked it on the penultimate night. On the final night we did what we knew what we had to do. Not quickly enough though. On the final day we rose from bottom to 2nd. Given another day (which you would get in real life) we would have thrashed their arses.
I should point out that each session represented a year in the life of the fictitious company we were managing. Fair enough in itself but you cannot realistically compress a year's decision making into 2 hours. Add to that the fact that the way we played it would have put us in liquidation in year 3 and you can see how unreal the whole thing was.
As I have said before, nothing in this world fits you for running a business, like actually running one. That's 'cock on the block' time.
Monday 14 June 2010
Bloody idiocy
The Sunday Times yesterday pointed out that although we are broke and we need some cuts in public spending, our local government bodies continue to recruit as if nothing has happened. We are not talking about the ‘front-line’ services here like nurses, teachers, policemen, garbage collectors and the like. Oh no, we are talking about jobs that are far better paid than the front line jobs such as these:
Brighton and Hove City Council – 4 x Strategic Directors on £125k each. (That's half a frigging million and if you go to the website and watch the council's Chief Executive talking utter bullshit about these jobs, you'll be no wiser.)
Sheffield – Internal communications change consultant @ £400/day
Unknown – Intelligence Officer – to be paid £5,000 pa more than an MI5 officer
Suffolk – Head of communications @ £700/day, ie about 20% more than the Prime Minister
Hertfordshire – Putting people first programme manager: Up to £54,412
Unknown – Empowerment partnership coordinators @ £70,000 each
Unknown – Communications chief @ £182,000
Derby – Ambassador to its twin town Osnabruck – salary unknown
Derby – Head of Streetpride: up to £55,482
Derby – Strategic Commissioning Manager: up to £38,961
East London – Community Development Coordinator: £42,000
Medway – European Projects and tourism officer: £36,313
Newham, London – Media Officer (to deliver positive stories about the council): £36,306
Liverpool – Totem Pole Artist – salary unknown.
You are going to love this:
Elmbridge, Surrey : Health, Safety and Wellbeing Adviser : Up to £34,524. (When the Sunday Times asked about the wellbeing bit, the answer was, ‘We are not really sure yet as we have only just added that to the role. We’ll want someone to make sure that the staff take breaks, go for walks – that kind of stuff.’
That’s the Sunday Times for you. I decided to look at my local patch. Here’s Cardiff for you:
Play Strategy Implementation Officer : Up to £23,708
Senior Equality & Diversity Specialist : Up to £32,706
Service Delivery Advisor (Manage) : Up to £19,126
Equalities Network Officer : Up to £28,636
Coordinator – Butetown : Up to £28,636
Geographic Information Systems Officer : Up to £26,276
You have to admire the self importance and imagination of the job titles here but in your heart you know that they are all wanker's jobs. I have nothing against the people themselves: they are people like you and me. It's just that we don't need them.
I am reminded here of Geldof’s ‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’ Judging by the above, our councils think it’s Christmas every day.
Brighton and Hove City Council – 4 x Strategic Directors on £125k each. (That's half a frigging million and if you go to the website and watch the council's Chief Executive talking utter bullshit about these jobs, you'll be no wiser.)
Sheffield – Internal communications change consultant @ £400/day
Unknown – Intelligence Officer – to be paid £5,000 pa more than an MI5 officer
Suffolk – Head of communications @ £700/day, ie about 20% more than the Prime Minister
Hertfordshire – Putting people first programme manager: Up to £54,412
Unknown – Empowerment partnership coordinators @ £70,000 each
Unknown – Communications chief @ £182,000
Derby – Ambassador to its twin town Osnabruck – salary unknown
Derby – Head of Streetpride: up to £55,482
Derby – Strategic Commissioning Manager: up to £38,961
East London – Community Development Coordinator: £42,000
Medway – European Projects and tourism officer: £36,313
Newham, London – Media Officer (to deliver positive stories about the council): £36,306
Liverpool – Totem Pole Artist – salary unknown.
You are going to love this:
Elmbridge, Surrey : Health, Safety and Wellbeing Adviser : Up to £34,524. (When the Sunday Times asked about the wellbeing bit, the answer was, ‘We are not really sure yet as we have only just added that to the role. We’ll want someone to make sure that the staff take breaks, go for walks – that kind of stuff.’
That’s the Sunday Times for you. I decided to look at my local patch. Here’s Cardiff for you:
Play Strategy Implementation Officer : Up to £23,708
Senior Equality & Diversity Specialist : Up to £32,706
Service Delivery Advisor (Manage) : Up to £19,126
Equalities Network Officer : Up to £28,636
Coordinator – Butetown : Up to £28,636
Geographic Information Systems Officer : Up to £26,276
You have to admire the self importance and imagination of the job titles here but in your heart you know that they are all wanker's jobs. I have nothing against the people themselves: they are people like you and me. It's just that we don't need them.
I am reminded here of Geldof’s ‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’ Judging by the above, our councils think it’s Christmas every day.
Tuesday 8 June 2010
Parliamentary reform - numbers
Our new Prime Minister, pretty boy Cameron has talked about reducing the number of MP's in the House of Commons. Not before time in myopinion. I have written about it ages ago but God knows where. The USA is far from perfect but numbers wise it makes more sense:
Population : 307m
Represenatives : 435
Senators : 100
And what do we have?
Population : 61m
MP's : 650
Lords : 736 (and that doesn't count the hereditary ones who were kicked out)
We don't need to have an inquiry or a Royal Commission on this. Let me run it. Target 400 MP's (which is generous) and 100 Lords. Put all the names into 4 hats. Why 4? Well we don't want to have an accident and end up with all the Welsh, Scottish or Northern Irish one's escaping. The axe must fall there too, big time. And anyway, they are all so fond of their proportionality stuff so now they'll get it.
Then I take the names out of the hats one by one and announce 'OK Sid Smith, you're fired.' Course I would add around 100 extra Harriet Harman tickets just to make sure she has no fucking chance. Any arguments from any of them and their pay would be halved tomorrow.
I'll be generous though. I'd give them 6 months notice to allow the Electoral Commission time to redraw the boundaries before I closed the Electoral Commission.
Dunno how much cash this will save but at least we'd have to put up with a lot less yap.
Population : 307m
Represenatives : 435
Senators : 100
And what do we have?
Population : 61m
MP's : 650
Lords : 736 (and that doesn't count the hereditary ones who were kicked out)
We don't need to have an inquiry or a Royal Commission on this. Let me run it. Target 400 MP's (which is generous) and 100 Lords. Put all the names into 4 hats. Why 4? Well we don't want to have an accident and end up with all the Welsh, Scottish or Northern Irish one's escaping. The axe must fall there too, big time. And anyway, they are all so fond of their proportionality stuff so now they'll get it.
Then I take the names out of the hats one by one and announce 'OK Sid Smith, you're fired.' Course I would add around 100 extra Harriet Harman tickets just to make sure she has no fucking chance. Any arguments from any of them and their pay would be halved tomorrow.
I'll be generous though. I'd give them 6 months notice to allow the Electoral Commission time to redraw the boundaries before I closed the Electoral Commission.
Dunno how much cash this will save but at least we'd have to put up with a lot less yap.
Monday 7 June 2010
Street dancers
I realise that many of these are black but my remarks are not meant to be racist. They apply to people of any hue. And now we have got white kids joining in.
I am heartily sick and bloody tired of these fucking groups who bounce around on stage and in the street to incomprehensible rag bag music waving their hands about, spreading their legs, stamping and mouthing gibberish. Many of them wear baseball caps turned at 90 degrees to the side or the rear which lends them nothing in attractiveness. I mean if just one band did it, it might look original but when so many do, it looks like a bloody uniform. And of course that betrays their adolescent youth. Adolescents are on the first stage to being individuals but lacking the knowledge and experience to define their true individuality, they just simply do the bloody opposite of the adults around them.
Michael Jackson was one of the progenitors of all this and the best thing he ever did for this world was to die. They lack grace, they lack beauty, they dress as if they just come off the dole queue – well apart from that little dot in Diversity – and even she will have a skirt up to her arse by the time when she gets to 16.
Actually, I do think there is a bit of racism here but not on my part. If a bunch of whites did similar routines and some do then they’d be dismissed as crap. OK a couple of white kids did something like this on BGT tonight but they did not win nor should they.
The roots of all this crap go back further. Just look at Gladys Knight and the Pips doing their stuff. There she is singing her heart out and I do love her so. Either side of her are a bunch of guys swaying from side to side making silent finger clicks and occasionally mouthing echoes of her song. If I had been her, I would have sacked the bastards and kept all the money to myself.
I am heartily sick and bloody tired of these fucking groups who bounce around on stage and in the street to incomprehensible rag bag music waving their hands about, spreading their legs, stamping and mouthing gibberish. Many of them wear baseball caps turned at 90 degrees to the side or the rear which lends them nothing in attractiveness. I mean if just one band did it, it might look original but when so many do, it looks like a bloody uniform. And of course that betrays their adolescent youth. Adolescents are on the first stage to being individuals but lacking the knowledge and experience to define their true individuality, they just simply do the bloody opposite of the adults around them.
Michael Jackson was one of the progenitors of all this and the best thing he ever did for this world was to die. They lack grace, they lack beauty, they dress as if they just come off the dole queue – well apart from that little dot in Diversity – and even she will have a skirt up to her arse by the time when she gets to 16.
Actually, I do think there is a bit of racism here but not on my part. If a bunch of whites did similar routines and some do then they’d be dismissed as crap. OK a couple of white kids did something like this on BGT tonight but they did not win nor should they.
The roots of all this crap go back further. Just look at Gladys Knight and the Pips doing their stuff. There she is singing her heart out and I do love her so. Either side of her are a bunch of guys swaying from side to side making silent finger clicks and occasionally mouthing echoes of her song. If I had been her, I would have sacked the bastards and kept all the money to myself.
Just another day
Let me think what I have done today. Well first and foremost I wrote on this subject earlier, did a preview and lost the bloody lot. Pissed me off big time. So here we go again in no particular order.
- Got up say 11 am.
- No breakfast. Never do but ate a sausage left over from last night.
- Looked at email. Deleted crap. Answered Erik in Sweden and Alan in Northern Ireland whom I shall visit in September after baby Eleanor's wedding.
- Got myself in a foul mood with the USA in general and Obama in particular over their attitude to BP on the oil spill. So wrote preceeding blog.
- Long message interchange on that subject with a mate in North Carolina. I have tried, I really have to give Obama the benefit of the doubt but he is turning out to be what I said earlier - another Jimmy Carter. My mate agrees. Fucking useless.
- Answered an email from cardiff Council asking about what I thought of sustainable transport. Refrained from taking the piss which is always difficult.
- Phoned them and asked them if they ever investigated the bus system in Curitiba, Brazil, rated by many as the best in the world. I'd have got more sense if I'd asked about the bus service on the Moon so I patiently explained it to a sweet young lady. Plainly 4 facts in a row were too much for her so she asked I put in an email which I did.
- Phoned the school of which I am a governor and had a long chat with the headmistress. She confided a secret with me. I had hoped it was her undying lust for my body but no such luck.
- Phoned the hotel in Ireland for El's wedding reception to ask where is my email confirmation. Lass said it had been sent and spelled out my email address as she perceived it. Got the first letter wrong. She said 'o' so I said 'e' as in e for echo. OK she said, you mean 'o'. Spent 5 minutes on this and I am none the wiser nor have I received an email.
- Posted Peter, Paul and Mary's Puff the Magic Dragon on Facebook and told people to listen and become a child for a moment.
- Nice ox tongue and sheep's cheese sandwich for lunch.
- Watched BBC news. Wondered why it is that everyone who dies tragically is 'absolutely wonderful,' 'the nicest person you could ever wish to meet,' 'everybody's friend,' etc etc. You know what I mean. It would be a refreshing change one day if someone came out with, 'Fucking tosser, no loss.'
- Refrained from putting garbage out. It was raining and I create little rubbish anyway.
- Had a shit. No problem as ever.
- Watched CNN news and emailed them bollocking them for their failure to mention all the American companies involved in the oil spill.
- Watched BBC Democracy live for a good 2 minutes. House of Commons 3 parts empty as usual and most of our other assemblies not even active.
- Emailed a lecturer in non human primate behaviour at Stirling Uni to say I'd got the book he recommended. It's all about us humans cooking and if you don't know, it is almost certain that we are the only animals that do so.
- Emailed the keeper of penguins at Edinburgh Zoo and told her that the Japanese are now flogging krill in frozen blocks. Feed her Gentoos that and their beeks might just turn from yellow to red, just like they are in Antarctica.
- Tried to change the ring tone on my cell phone and ended up being told I was subscibing to 3 new ringtones a week for £4.50 a week. Killed that bastard idea.
- Checked the value of my shares and found I lost £2,250 today. Bugger. Could almost have bought a good bottle of Chateau Petrus for that.
And the day is not over yet.
- Got up say 11 am.
- No breakfast. Never do but ate a sausage left over from last night.
- Looked at email. Deleted crap. Answered Erik in Sweden and Alan in Northern Ireland whom I shall visit in September after baby Eleanor's wedding.
- Got myself in a foul mood with the USA in general and Obama in particular over their attitude to BP on the oil spill. So wrote preceeding blog.
- Long message interchange on that subject with a mate in North Carolina. I have tried, I really have to give Obama the benefit of the doubt but he is turning out to be what I said earlier - another Jimmy Carter. My mate agrees. Fucking useless.
- Answered an email from cardiff Council asking about what I thought of sustainable transport. Refrained from taking the piss which is always difficult.
- Phoned them and asked them if they ever investigated the bus system in Curitiba, Brazil, rated by many as the best in the world. I'd have got more sense if I'd asked about the bus service on the Moon so I patiently explained it to a sweet young lady. Plainly 4 facts in a row were too much for her so she asked I put in an email which I did.
- Phoned the school of which I am a governor and had a long chat with the headmistress. She confided a secret with me. I had hoped it was her undying lust for my body but no such luck.
- Phoned the hotel in Ireland for El's wedding reception to ask where is my email confirmation. Lass said it had been sent and spelled out my email address as she perceived it. Got the first letter wrong. She said 'o' so I said 'e' as in e for echo. OK she said, you mean 'o'. Spent 5 minutes on this and I am none the wiser nor have I received an email.
- Posted Peter, Paul and Mary's Puff the Magic Dragon on Facebook and told people to listen and become a child for a moment.
- Nice ox tongue and sheep's cheese sandwich for lunch.
- Watched BBC news. Wondered why it is that everyone who dies tragically is 'absolutely wonderful,' 'the nicest person you could ever wish to meet,' 'everybody's friend,' etc etc. You know what I mean. It would be a refreshing change one day if someone came out with, 'Fucking tosser, no loss.'
- Refrained from putting garbage out. It was raining and I create little rubbish anyway.
- Had a shit. No problem as ever.
- Watched CNN news and emailed them bollocking them for their failure to mention all the American companies involved in the oil spill.
- Watched BBC Democracy live for a good 2 minutes. House of Commons 3 parts empty as usual and most of our other assemblies not even active.
- Emailed a lecturer in non human primate behaviour at Stirling Uni to say I'd got the book he recommended. It's all about us humans cooking and if you don't know, it is almost certain that we are the only animals that do so.
- Emailed the keeper of penguins at Edinburgh Zoo and told her that the Japanese are now flogging krill in frozen blocks. Feed her Gentoos that and their beeks might just turn from yellow to red, just like they are in Antarctica.
- Tried to change the ring tone on my cell phone and ended up being told I was subscibing to 3 new ringtones a week for £4.50 a week. Killed that bastard idea.
- Checked the value of my shares and found I lost £2,250 today. Bugger. Could almost have bought a good bottle of Chateau Petrus for that.
And the day is not over yet.
Gulf of Mexico oil spill
I am angry about this, very angry. Obviously I bitterly regret the environmental damage but that is not what I am angry about today. I am angry about America's response and that really pisses me off big time. Obama has been down there three times now, done fuck all and ranted on and on about BP paying for the mess. I said he was going to be another Jimmy Carter long before he was elected and now he is proving my point. Then the media does nothing but focus on BP to the extent that they are marching on the street calling for a boycott on BP's gas stations.
Consider:
BP own 65% of the well, which is to say the oil at the bottom. Anakardo Petroleum (American)own 25% and Mitsui (Japanese) own 10%. You ever heard the latter two mentioned?
The failed drilling rig is owned and manned by Transocean, another American company. Obama mentioned them? NO! They have made a statement to say they were only drilling to BP's specifications. Absolute bollocks. In my time in the motor industry, meeting the specification of the car producer was no excuse. If the product wasn't good enough and we pleaded that we met the spec in self defence, their answer was simple. 'Look we employed you as experts in your field. If our spec was deficient, then it was up to you to point it out.'
The well head was capped by Halliburton, another American company. You may have heard of them because they were big buddies of Dick Cheney and made lots of money out of the war in Iraq.
And to cap it all, if you will forgive the pun, someone sent me a video link on Texas trials on an oil eating microbe. Seems they trialled this many years ago and the little buggers chewed up all the oil in days, left no toxic waste and promtly died. Not only that but the cultures can be dried, stored and brought to life and squirted through fire hoses. So why haven't those whining gulf states stockpiled the stuff?
Fuck Obama. He's lost my vote, not that I had one in the first place of course.
Consider:
BP own 65% of the well, which is to say the oil at the bottom. Anakardo Petroleum (American)own 25% and Mitsui (Japanese) own 10%. You ever heard the latter two mentioned?
The failed drilling rig is owned and manned by Transocean, another American company. Obama mentioned them? NO! They have made a statement to say they were only drilling to BP's specifications. Absolute bollocks. In my time in the motor industry, meeting the specification of the car producer was no excuse. If the product wasn't good enough and we pleaded that we met the spec in self defence, their answer was simple. 'Look we employed you as experts in your field. If our spec was deficient, then it was up to you to point it out.'
The well head was capped by Halliburton, another American company. You may have heard of them because they were big buddies of Dick Cheney and made lots of money out of the war in Iraq.
And to cap it all, if you will forgive the pun, someone sent me a video link on Texas trials on an oil eating microbe. Seems they trialled this many years ago and the little buggers chewed up all the oil in days, left no toxic waste and promtly died. Not only that but the cultures can be dried, stored and brought to life and squirted through fire hoses. So why haven't those whining gulf states stockpiled the stuff?
Fuck Obama. He's lost my vote, not that I had one in the first place of course.
Friday 4 June 2010
Supermarket kids
Supermarkets seem to bring out the worst in kids, Much as I love children, I could cheerfully slaughter many of the little bastards who haunt our shopping aisles. Yes I know I should address my anger to their parents but I still have the urge to maim one of the little shits. As they rush around I sincerely hope that one of the little fuckers will crash into that huge stack of Heinz Baked Beans tins or better still a pile of wine glasses. And all the while some simpering mother will quietly say, 'Don't do that darling.' Not dissimilar to what we said to Hitler over the invasion of the Sudentenland and look where that got us.
Occasionally God intervenes and it's nice. Last year I was 2nd in the queue at the check out in Tesco's. Mom puts one item in shopping bag and the little sod runs off to climb the windows. Mom goes off and grabs him. 2nd item in the shopping bag and he's gone again. Repeat. And so on and so on 4 times. At the 5th escapade, mom dragged him back and he smacked his head against the check-out. Crashed to the floor and wept but at least we got on with our shopping.
My friend Gillian had the right idea. When Catherine or was it Jonathan lay on the floor of Marks & Spencer's Banbury screaming, she took the child's ankle and dragged him/her across the floor and out into the street.
Occasionally God intervenes and it's nice. Last year I was 2nd in the queue at the check out in Tesco's. Mom puts one item in shopping bag and the little sod runs off to climb the windows. Mom goes off and grabs him. 2nd item in the shopping bag and he's gone again. Repeat. And so on and so on 4 times. At the 5th escapade, mom dragged him back and he smacked his head against the check-out. Crashed to the floor and wept but at least we got on with our shopping.
My friend Gillian had the right idea. When Catherine or was it Jonathan lay on the floor of Marks & Spencer's Banbury screaming, she took the child's ankle and dragged him/her across the floor and out into the street.
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