So it Continues...

 

It is not enough for movie producers to be attacked by poor hard done by women but we must also continue the attack on these poor soft touch women abused in the house of Commons (no mention of the Lords I note).    

Daily the media spout nonsense about hard done by women and always ignore the fact that women abuse men in similar fashion also.  Once again the man is bad the woman good and this is not questioned.  It appears our PM has found 36 Conservative Members of Parliament, including two cabinet ministers, who have abused, sorry are accused of abusing women in one way or another, no mention of anyone in any other party being accused.  

I found a refreshing item in the 'Online Daily Mail' (Yes I thought it unusual also) where Kathy Gyngell speaks of the many years in parliament where women made use of their bodies to get benefits from men as much as men abused said women.  How refreshing to find an open minded approach in among the hysteria.  This did not stop Harriet Harman exposing the chip on the shoulder she developed as a 13 year old girls school pupil reading 'Spare Rib' magazine.  A magazine my grown up sister dumped.  Men are horrid she says, allow women (e.g. Me!) to control the world. Such comments ignore the bad women in this world, only today we read of female concentration guards who were worse, they say, than the men in those Nazi camps.  Possibly Harriet and her friends never paid attention in school.

Sadly men and women continue to regard one another as they have always done.  A few years of confused feminism will not alter human nature nor stop women using the femininity to get where they wish to go nor men taking advantage of those willing to use what was available.  All that is lacking is honesty on the part of those seeking publicity now, years afterwards and with no regard of aiding other women who may be hurt.

 

I was sitting here last night, head down eyes glued to the screen, when I realised something was amiss.  I found my emotions stirred by loneliness, a touch of fear, there was depression in the air and I wondered why?  Then I realised, it was night time!  It was in fact not long after seven in the evening yet it was dark, curtains closed, light on, heater off because I was too lazy to get up, and the feelings were controlled by the darkness.

This is because until relatively recently the curtains were open and light of whatever sort came in.  Now it was dark early the world becomes a cold place, light opens our hearts and minds, darkness closes them.  It is not surprising to know that in lands where darkness reigns for 24 hours a day people take to alcohol and suffer terrible depressions.  It is no surprise to understand that suicides are less frequent in the 24 hour light than in the dark.

We all suffer that three in the morning attack where we wake still half asleep yet cannot return to slumber and instead fill our minds with dreadful thoughts.  All our failings, fears, worries loom large yet after another couple of hours sleep they dissipate and are forgotten.  Darkness, not even street lights here at that time these days, silence, weariness all add up in the mind at that time.  If however we worked nightshift and woke in the middle of the day would we be depressed I wonder?  On the occasion I worked nights I cannot recall if this is so but it seems likely that light would ease the mind not make things worse.

I must keep a light on tonight and see if I wake with a smile on my face...

I had another one the other day, a 'selfie.'  Not one I took OH No but another one taken by one of the girls.  By another I mean another and another and another!  I cannot imagine taking so many photos of myself when a teenager why do they do it now, especially the females?  Every new hairstyle, and there are too many off them, new outfit, new day, every meal, every small item is put into a 'selfie for the world to see.  I am all in favour of photographs with which to remember the day but really enough!  I don't need to know you now have green hair, I have no wish to see you in the 'guising outfit,'  I certainly don't want pics of your lunch (the same as yesterdays).  

A few decent, sensible photos are all I ask, like my 'selfie' above.  That is all we need, nothing more.

   

Now I'm Not One to Complain...BBC Alba!

Now I'm not one to complain but there are many reasons why this is possible.  Kids going back to school has indeed cleared the shops of the dear little brats but however the mums with pushchairs and no consideration remain.  The rain continues to fall when I put my head out the door and the wind continues to blow in the window and unsettle the dust in the room.  The telly continues to rouse an attitude of miffed and on Saturday it once again offered one of my favourite grouses, football coverage!
Now to use TV to cover a football match ought to be simple.  A large area of grass surrounded by lots of people, simple enough.  The players kick the ball and one another back and forth and the camera swings back and forth following the action while the needless commentator, and friend, prattle rubbish alongside.  Simple enough so why is it on Saturday while watching BBC Alba's excellent idea of showing us football some of us cannot reach at 6pm why must it be spoiled by employing what I take to be a woman with no knowledge or interest in football to direct the action?
If I wish to see four or five lingering needless close ups of the Heart of Midlothian's manager I will buy a photograph of him, I don't wish to see either him or several close ups of the Aberdeen manager, a shock indeed is that.  I want to see what is happening on the large green area not what is not happening on the sidelines.  
The fascination with nothing continued with a view of two men wearing what looked like kids sunglasses, funny perhaps but not while the game is in motion, they are not on the field and that is where we ought to be looking.  I consider directors with an understanding of the game and the way it is run also important but I do not wish to see the camera lingering for an age on the Aberdeen chairman and acolytes I wish to see the game.  Our own dear chairwoman is better looking but why we look at her while the game is in play is beyond comprehension, she can see the game why not us?  
Of course TV folks always find spurious excuses for their incompetence and I would like to hear those from the final fifteen minutes of the game.  The Heart of Midlothian were piling on the pressure and a ball was abut to be crossed into the goalmouth and suddenly we found ourselves staring at a ball boy sitting on his stool immersed in the game we could not see!  Why?  A mistake, fair enough, but with five minutes to go and pressure and excitement building as the Hears attack we suddenly are offered a sweeping slow sight of the entire ground for no good reason and are unable to follow what is happening.  
Top this with constant close ups of the back of players heads long after the ball has left them and while the crowd are reacting to things we cannot see and I begin to wonder whether the woman has a fancy for the players or is just incompetent?  This happens in all games these days and in spite of their experience built up over the past few years BBC Alba continue to be the worst at ignoring the game and watching nothing at all during it.
It's time for change!

Christmas Day 2013

.

Bark

.