Awful Day

So you start the day with good intentions and by midday you begin to realise that some days are best left to themselves. This has been another of those. However, if true, this did bring some cheer.

"This was actually done by an Aberdeen fan......

Dons fan signs up on a Rangers forum, makes a couple of posts and no-one is any the wiser he's a Dons fan.
Then he makes a thread saying . . .

Quote:
If you want tickets for next week's title decider away to Dundee United, read here...
Since the away allocation for Rangers fans of 5000 is long sold out. Tickets for the home end is the only solution.
But as we all know, if you’re not on Dundee United's official club/supporter database then you won't even be able to buy tickets for the home end.

Here's what to do..
Phone up the club shop. And ask to buy a pair of Dundee United kit socks. Don't even mention tickets for Sunday. They will become suspicious.
Then when they take your sock order, personal details and process your payment your details will then be stored on their system.
Give it a few hours until there's a shift change, phone up again and order your home tickets for the Rangers match and because of your sock order, you will be on their system and you will get your match tickets. It's perfect lads.

Turns out, there's no such database and all these Rangers fans have ended up with hundreds of pairs of Dundee United socks and no match tickets."

Mistake

The Oxford Online Dictionary describes the word 'Mistake' as :-

mistake

• noun 1 a thing that is incorrect. 2 an error of judgement.

• verb (past mistook; past part. mistaken) 1 be wrong about. 2 (mistake for) confuse (someone or something) with.

— ORIGIN Old Norse, ‘take in error’.

This is interesting. This morning, as every morning for the past couple of weeks all we hear about is members of parliament claiming allowances for mortgages, dry rot, clearing their moats, and floating platforms for the ducks in their ponds. Every single one who has appeared on TV has claimed all actions they took were within the rules and under advice from the correct people, adding "I admit I made a mistake," "Mistakes were made," and "It was an error of judgement, a mistake on my part." All then happily go on to state that the House of Commons must change, the system is outdated and needs reformed, something needs to be done. Not one has said "I admit it, I was grabbing as much as I could," or "I was on the take mate!" "Nose in the trough, too right pal!" Now these chaps may well have been within the rules, although pressurising the four accountants who had to control six hundred and fifty pushy MP's had nothing to do with it, and spending money on your boyfriends dry rot on his house in Southampton when you are MP for Luton over a hundred miles away was some mistake!

Several things come to mind. First there is the rotten system that allows them to fiddle it (should that read 'mistake' it?). Then there is the arrogance from those that knew they could get away with it. There is also the serious matter of how much an MP or member of the Scots and Welsh parliaments earn, do they really get paid enough? The system will be overhauled, some grasping chancers will be forced to stand down, but the arrogance of some will of course remain. How much they earn does need reviewing. I have thought for a long time that members of parliament ought to be on at least £250,000 a year! Add to this a decent allowance for secretary/researcher and running costs and we ought to have a better government. In Germany and France they are indeed paid more, I suggest not asking about the Italians, if we are corrupt just what are Berlosconi's mob like? The bigger the money, commitment to one job only, allowances made for keeping informed of their 'proper job,' and a better standard of member could be brought into the house. This cannot be bad for the nation. Some thing £60,000 a year plus add on's is sufficient, but when footballers can get that each week, and mediocre BBC interviewers get more and the Paxman's of this world almost a million something is clearly wrong! There will always be those that fiddle it but at least we could have better UK government this way. Until independence arrives of course.

The other thing is the whining about MP's! This bothers me. Certainly for the unemployed and those on minimum wages £60k sounds a dream, however whatever wages they are on do they fiddle their employers? I know they do! How can folk who spend all day avoiding work, phoning their friends, e-mailing others, passing the buck and taking all the 'perks' going then complain MP's are bad? Pots and kettles come to mind.While I have worked with many good people I also know many members of parliament were not on the take, and attempt to do a reasonable job, as long as their party leaders are obeyed! It never fails to amaze me the answers MP's give you. 'Their party is always the one with the answer, the other is at fault and no we cannot help because it's their fault.' Maybe if we all started being more honest life would be better for everyone?

Imperialism

Folks are funny are they not? If they steal from you they can always justify this theft to convince themselves they are right. If however you steal from them, dearie me they react with horror! No justification is possible in that situation. The English react like this constantly. Edward ! (Longshanks to you) stole Wales. he also attempted, on spurious grounds, to steal France. Even worse he attempted to steal Scotland! He failed! However his arrogance allowed him to kill, unjustly, Sir William Wallace by hanging, drawing and quartering him. This as you know was the English punishment for treason. Only an Imperialist thug could use this excuse for murdering a citizen of another country, guilty only of defending his people!

The English have followed Ed the Brute ever since! Even today we see their imperialist attitudes, and some of the barbarian hordes were upset when the truth about the English parliament was made known to them. Just look at the comments on yesterdays post. Completely ignoring the point, as always they hurled abuse and contempt with abandon. The reason, they know I was right! Truth hurts! Of course they, like the rest of the English, never joined the 'Union,' this was just an excuse to capture Scotland by stealth. The only good to come out of this was Scotland no longer being forced to spend so much time defending herself from aggression. Instead she defends herself from having to be the engine behind England's rise and yet be regarded as a second class citizen even yet! Only the other day the TV announced trains run from 'Kings Cross to Scotland!' I asked where is the station called 'Scotland?' Are we not in a 'Union?' Or have you forgotten, again?' I await a reply.

Those who commented show the usual signs. Only one has a blog himself. The others were, as is usual with such people, blogless. They do not blog, they merely search the web hoping to be offended. We will not see them again until the next honest post tells the truth they are determined to hide. Why are they like this? Because they have no nation. There is nothing but imperialism and football hooliganism to boast about. While the world welcomes Scots, Welsh and Irish, they feel contempt for the English arrogance and imperialism. OK, I admit Adolf Hitler had some respect for them, but that's another story. Ignoring the 'Daily Star' readers I will however commend to you Terry. He has one or two web sites which reflect his nationalistic English views. While his viewpoint is skewed by false English history teachers, and, more importantly to the conservative English, money! I recommend a look at his sites. he appears to be a decent enough imperialist, but possibly spends too much time with the others. Did you notice how one calls on another to visit and object to sites they don't like. This is to give the impression there is a lot of them, or even to bully folks into submission. You would have thought several hundred years off failed, but constant, oppression would have taught them by now, wouldn't you?

Terry has one site here
And his Campaign for an English Parliament one is found there.
He of course does not need a campaign, the English parliament is found here, where it has been for a thousand years (approx).

English Democrats

You have to laugh! Each night this week and last, there has been a five minute 'Party Political Broadcast' on behalf of a political party. The main ones had their say last week, and may have another according to the system used here, Labour, Conservative and Liberal Democrats, and the daft...sorry smaller party's with more limited viewpoints, The Green Party for instance. Tonight however it was the turn of the 'English Democrats!' Their main beef (roast beef perhaps?) is that Scotland and Wales have their own parliament so why does England not have one? Incredible! They naturally did not say this straight out, they questioned the amount of money paid to 'Johnny foreigners' railways in Europe and asked why EU money is not spent here on ours? The speaker ignored how much we actually get back from what we pay in. Probably he, like the rest of us, has no idea about that. Then he returned to his real problem, the Scots getting 'our' money, and he quoted the 'Barnett Formula' a system used for dividing money between Scotland and England. "They get more than us," he huffed, stamped his feet and threatened to hold his breath until he went blue in the face, ignoring again the fact that this is not quite true.More English area get handouts than Scotland, and all get more than the Scots do. In fact only Norfolk, Surrey and London get nothing, but all this money talk depends on using the figures that suit you. The real fact is English oppression forced Scotland by economic bullying into a union they did not want, took away the parliament powers, and made Scotland subject to their over lordship! Since then Scotland has been considered second class and ignored by the English racists! They even changed the name to 'North Britain,' and when that was turned down they took to referring to 'Great Britain' as 'England!' They ED did not object to this? This is their problem, the domineering imperialists hate it when their country is regarded as no more important than all the rest. They consider invading India and Africa and the rest but do not let their folk come over here! The BNP are of course in the forefront of this racist agenda! The English Democrats may not wish to repatriate any 'coloured gentleman' but their institutionalised anti-Scots racism is seen most clearly in the picture of their leader standing their demanding an 'English Parliament,' while in the background is seen the Houses of Parliament, a place that has been, and remains, England's parliament! Since 1707 the members of that house have worked on the basis of 'England's needs and England alone!'
Only the blind self obsessed imperialist English would be so blind as to never see this.

I Canny Stand It!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I canny stand any more of this! Since Pearl Carr & Teddy Johnson won the thing in 1959 or whenever it was I can remember the 'excitement' as we waited with baited breath as the 'Eurovision Song Contest' approached. However in those days the songs were bland ballads sung by suitably famous faces. So unlike today! There was the innovation of watching simultaneously with several European nations something that brought us all together. Television was a wonder to us then, television which reached across the vast area of the continent was a fascination hard to believe now. The drama of the points total at the end was breathtaking - at least it took mine away. In fact the whole operation brought me, and millions of others, to tears. It still does.

Of course in those days the tears were caused by the knowledge that my selfish family wished to watch this malodorous tripe when I wanted to watch 'Scotsport on the other channel! How could they, I wondered, want to sit and involve themselves with this pedestrian output when I could be watching Partick Thistle play Kilmarnock on a gray Scotsport film? The tears flowed and the hard hearted family just ignored me and then blamed me for being a brat! I never understood that bit. Now however the tears flow because of the putrid and crass performances in front of me now.

You must understand I did not intend to watch this, I just had it on while I phoned my mother, (and there is another blog or three!). Act after act come on, lights flash, bright, coloured clouds of smoke rise and vanish, a singer, if male with his shirt open to the naval, if female showing as much flesh as she can (bar one fat one from Malta who actually had a 'normal' song and sounded good in comparison), surrounded by a bunch of dancers (always the same ones?) who gyrate in a choreographed fashion in time to what someone calls music. They all have that false 'clean' image. You know where the hair is exactly out of place, the shredded outfits shredded in just the right place, and the face carpeted with enough make up to paint the Forth Bridge (and the women are just as bad!).

I HATE THE FALSENESS OF IT ALL!!!!!!!!!

I was musically educated in the 60's, and watching
this I long for Cream to appear playing 'Sunshine of your love'
or Jimi Hendrix to give us 'Hey Joe.'

Oh please let someone come on and bring the house down with music from the heart and not this plastic, bland, inconsequential pap that fills the screen and the world today! Even the slogan that appears in between acts represents all that is false around us today. The slick, computerised graphics,the good looking lassie (nothing wrong with them usually) with her hair in just the right position, (oh dear the UK lass is on now. A black girl with a high, screeching voice, with another song like all the songs black singers sing these days. (What happened to Sarah Vaughn or Ella Fitzgerald?) Now someone with his (brand new) baseball cap on backwards is singing (?) while three tar..sorry a backing group scratch a living and a couple of numbskull's swing poles with fire on them around in the background. How exciting...... It's all so false, it goes on too long and it is all the same emptiness that dull the senses and kills the soul. I hate all this, it is so false and empty!

Karl Marx, a hero of the working class who never done a days work in his life and was not working class, made the absurd statement, often misquoted, that 'Religion is the opiate of the people,' (unless I misquoted him) but surely this 'entertainment is today's 'opiate?' This mass of low brow entertainment which fills the TV and film screen, inundates the magazines and press, and confronts all of Europe at the same time, surely this is the 'Bread & Circus's' of today? Empty, bland, innocuous, and in small doses quite harmless and even enjoyable for some, surely we are drowning in the false 'all togetherness' of it all?

Even worse than this 'Match of the Day' has been delayed because of this!
Enough! I am turning it off and putting on the Cream music!

A Day in the LIfe

07 01 Wake wearily to Gregorian chant from the CD in the too, too loud alarm clock radio.

07.02 Switch it off.

07.34 Get out of bed.

07.45 Drink large coffee in one big gulp.

07.59 Wake up.

08.00 Switch on TV for news.

08.01 Switch off rubbish news about bulimic girls and actors traumas.

08.02 Switch on PC.

08.05 PC finishes loading and check e-mails from my friends.

08.06 Begin checking Spam.

08.17 Clear Spam.

08.18 Begin reading the online papers.

08.24 Begin reading blogs

10.00 E-mail Blackberry Juniper. Remind her she is at work, I’m not.

10.01 Rude reply from Blackberry Juniper

10.02 Begin housework.

10.06 Finish housework

10.07 Coffee break. Read book on addiction. Like it. I may buy several more.

10.55 Job hunting begins.

11.28 Enter deep depression, gloom hangs high overhead, inadequacy knocks on the door, failure is written in large letters in my head, woe and thrice woe. The futures bright - but not here.....

11.29 Lie on floor staring at the ceiling, mind blank, and future blanker.

14.03 Inform Blackberry Juniper I am still free and she is at work.

14.04 Decide to finish my first novel.

14.23 Return said novel to charity shop where I bought it.

14.25 Walk through town hoping the pretty girls will throw themselves at me.

14.43 Decide 'Specsavers' has lots of potential female customers.

14.45 Wander into public gardens.

14.46 Find first crying child and Mum ignoring the beast at entrance.

14.47 Find first dosser at first bench.

14.48 Find first polystyrene milk shake/coffee cup spoiling plant life.

14.51 Find first student couple groping in the bushes. Must bring camera next time.

14.53 Find first squirrel to feed. No nuts, (not the squirrel, nor me), I forgot to bring them again!

14.54 Squirrels throw stones at me in disappointment. Tough lot round here!

15.07 Knees aching I wander towards home, I stand at roadside waiting for traffic to stop so I can cross.

15.21 I cross.

15.32 Home. Check e-mails. Blackberry Juniper still rude.

15.32 Check Spam

15.56 Clear Spam.

15.57 Coffee break.

16.45 End coffee break and resume work search.

16.46 Go back to lying on floor staring at ceiling.

17.12 Consider having a bath, wonder if the horse trough will be empty.

17.19 Read last Blackberry Juniper funny and entertaining e-mail and go back on the floor and continue ceiling watch.

18.15 Get off floor to eat what passes for nourishment around here.

18.32 Wish I’d stayed on floor.

19.40 Look for TV football. Find none, (verbal joke ‘What was she doing there?)

19.46 Switch on TV. Soap opera, turn channel, soap opera, turn channel, soap opera, turn

channel, cowboy film, turn channel, Dumbed down news broadcast, groan, search all available channels, go back to lying on floor.

20.22 Read blogs.Laugh, cry, get entertained, even educated, become jealous as they are all better written, wittier, and put together so well. Humph!

23.05 Go to bed.

The Dead and the Suffering

I just glanced casually, as you do, at this report on the situation in Sri Lanka. As is normal I grasped the gist immediately and got on with my awfully important life. However it struck me that here was a war, and one that has been ongoing for around thirty years, where people are at this very moment being blown apart by shellfire, shot, raped, abused, starved, and caught in the general effects of a crossfire which they are unable to escape. And I just glance at this news and move on.

The picture features a conflict which erupted in 1947 when Britain left the Indians to their own affairs, and quite right too! Straight away there was a Muslim/Hindu split with much violence and Pakistan and West Pakistan (which also splint from Pakistan later, again with much violence). Kashmir, a large state to the north, was ruled by a Maharajah who was left to decide whether to join India or Pakistan. He chose India but most of the population being Muslim conflict, of one level or another, has been continual ever since. Many thousands have died, many more injured or dispossessed, yet little is seen on the news as Iraq and Afghanistan are more important - too us!

World wide, as we sit in comfort, stuffing our fat faces, warm, content for the most part, millions live in war zones. Death is an ever present reality, many suffer the results of loss of home and family, wounds and abuse. The future depends on far off uncaring governments or charitable organisations working in the area, but for how long? While thirty seconds of a news programme is given over to their story it will quickly be followed by more important relevant information, concerning bulimic teenagers or drunken actresses.

I am quite warm this evening, the music playing is cheery, the umpteenth mug of tea has been drunk, and yet somewhere in the world someone is being blown apart, shot or having their throat cut. I, like the rest of the world, think "Oh dear, how awful" then forget them.

"Et lacrimatus est Iesus"

Sleep

Fishy boy gave me an idea.
I thought I would write about sleep,
and posting when asleep at that.
However I am too tired at the moment.
So stuff it.
I'm off to bed again.

Swifts

Yesterday afternoon, when walking the streets looking for dropped coins, I saw the wonderful sight of two swifts chasing one another around the skies. How wonderful to see these delightful birds. They speak of Summer and happiness. They bring enjoyment to life as they gather in groups are race at high speed between the houses, screeching loudly and thoroughly enjoying themselves.

It never fails to amaze me that these seemingly frail birds arrive here after an epic journey from central Africa! Just imagine the difficulty! From the hot Serengeti up over the Sahara Desert, across from Morocco to Gibraltar, through Spain and France to the UK. Personally I would rather have the heat of Nigeria or Uganda myself, rather than the usual Atlantic rainstorms that cover the UK. However these birds often carry are are known to go as far as the Arctic Circle, allowing for 'global warming' which is moving it south of course.

These birds endure great heat, storms over the desert, danger from larger birds who have learned to enjoy a swift or two for lunch, and then travel through the European nations where shooting unarmed tiny birds can be considered 'sport' by men who's brains have not evolved beyond the Neanderthal, although some would believe they still exist in Glasgow! Eating airborne spiders, and other delicious (they say) insects, the birds not only fly all the way, they can actually sleep in the air! Quite how they manage this is beyond me. Sleeping at work, on the bus, in church and even standing up has been done, but not in the air. While in their Spring and Summer residence they apparently also mate while in the air, although there is something worrying about people who spend so much time researching this sort of thing. Swifts however only sleep with half their brain while in the air, the other half being awake. Now that I can understand!

While watching them cavort around it brings real pleasure as they do appear to have a good attitude to life. This from a bird that might not land for three years after leaving the nest! That some do land is clear as they have nests for the young in holes in various places. For two or three years one nested in the space reserved for the fan in the bathroom. There was a small hole in the wall for the fan to kick out all the smells I produce, however there was a space that allowed the clever bird to squeeze past and make a nest in the attic. Arrival to feed young would be heralded with a noisy screech which, if unprepared, would find the individual had sat in an appropriate position! While delightful to watch their approach to noise control was minimal. However once inside they cared for the chicks in silence. Unfortunately the recent work on the building closed of this opening, and I for one miss them. I hope the birds found 'a decent hole to go to.'


Read more at the RSPB

Market Day

One thing about small town market day s the number of yokels who arrive from the rural areas. You can tell the men at a glance. For one thing they are strangers whom you never see in the normal run of things, and in a small town you often see the same faces day by day. For another they look like country folk! We live in politically correct days in which stereotypes are not allowed to exist. We are not allowed to recognise swarthy Mediterranean types, blonde Teutonic Germans, or badly dressed loud Americans, but they do exist no matter how much we deny this. The stereotype of the somewhat gormless bumpkin, out of place in town, appears here on market day. They usually wear flat caps, have uncut hair, and jackets that were bought in a sale one January not long after the English queen took her throne. Their boots are not fashionable, and have not been since Gladstone left office, and the men all too often have bicycle clips just above the ankles, even though the wife brought him to town on the once a week bus. Without a tractor to get around on, a spade or saw, or any other violent looking implement in his hand he feels awkward and as out of place as he feels. He is of course right to feel this way. His lady often is no different from the regular run of girls in town, and one is left asking how on earth they got together? Cynics would put forward the theory that as close relations it was a family duty to marry one another but they are just being rude!

Of course their accents give them away. Not only are some of them so loud they would deafen Italian women talking to Spanish señoritas but it sound like 'The Archers!' As country folk round here they only use vowels of course! Aye EeeOOOhhhh IIIIIIiiiiiiiiiii YOUUUUUU is the sound when the men talk, although they do tend not to talk unless spoken at by her. Often she is asking why he is looking at the 'Bull' and not listening to what she is saying about the stalls.
In the past I delivered to a small village just outside of town and there was a very strong 'village' attitude about the place, not always a bad thing of course. One male had all the indications of a life spent working in the fields. he also retained the surly inability to smile when passing, a 'grunt' may have escaped him but it could just have been deep breathing. This creature had a wife, of similar age, and every month the book club box would arrive for them. I looked at it one day, and considered the couple in all their glory as I read 'The Romance Book Club!' I suppose with Farmer Jones's ploughman in the house she didn't find romance too often there. At least not when he brought the oxen home for tea!

Now I am not one to complain as you know...

However there are occasionally little things which can interfere with my normally quite, demure, reticent attitude. Today it was rain! It threatened to rain last night, the weather girls (who never return my letters, except that one who sent her lawyer and two police officers round) promised big black clouds and abundant rain all day and all night. They lied! When I arose the clouds were gathering joyfully overhead, attempting to rain but failing to fulfil their potential. By eleven of the clock when I eventually squeezed my corpulent stomach under the steering wheel of the imitation Maserati in which I endeavour to learn the rudiments of safe driving the sun had come out! Now normally this is good, and while appreciative of the situation we were soon to find problems.

While coursing through the back roads of the county, round bends and sharp turns on roads that grew over hundreds of years possibly because of the drunkenness of the locals, taking in with the corner of my eye the ancient timber framed, brightly coloured houses, fields of bright yellow rape crops, and the woman driver three inches from the rear my boot, "Why don't you just sit in the back seat dear?" While doing this it started to rain. Here it comes as promised we thought, heavy downpours, flooded slippy roads, and the occasional daft motorcyclist (twenty seven were killed on these roads last year!) ahead. Wrong! It merely left big drops of rain on the windscreen which grew in number until I had to switch on the wipers. Normally this has been no problem, however Spring being Spring and the seasons specific delights revealed themselves and we discovered just how many dead flies had met their maker on the windscreen! As the wipers made their weary way back and forward, back and forward, back and forward, we not only found ourselves falling asleep, asleeeeep, asleeeeeee BEEP! BEEEEEP!!! but we also became aware that we could see nothing for the streaks of fly remnants everywhere! This mucky blemish naturally occurred as I reached tight right hand bends hidden behind high hedges and aged buildings or hindered the view as cars appeared from narrow lanes that emerged behind Inns that had encouraged Englishmen for centuries to misshape the roads as they made their weary way home. Squirting water onto the screen helped for almost minutes as the blades worked double time and helped in no way as I struggled to go through villages whose roads were not built for more than one bullock cart and three drunk Englishmen. The drunks remained but the Bullocks have long since been turned to soup. As we neared home two hours and much sweat later the instructor, somewhat too eagerly I thought, mentioned that the sun was showing itself again. I was glad we were on the long, almost straight, road home as it allowed me to glance upwards and glower in the skies direction.

These trips not only educate me in the way of the idiot driver, and we have met a few out there, but I can glance at the centuries of history that we pass in between crunching gears and ignoring speed limits. The picture is of Long Melford church and the red brick 'Trinity Hospital' (Old folks home to you & me) an ancient loooong village that was there when the Romans passed through, contains two huge Tudor houses and masses of red brick walls and rich Suffolk folk. This area was once the breadbasket of England (that's England as opposed to the UK folks) and wool was the reason for the wealth. The people of this area not only provided the occasional king, many nobles who thought they should be king but they also enjoyed the god Mammon so much they have managed to keep their grasping hands on much of the wealth ever since. They also eat bread, as there is always a bread van parked in an awkward position when we pass through.

Spring being the best time of year it is wonderful to see the white flowers growing at the side of the roads, the green fields, some of which appear to be well ahead of schedule, and the views over the gently rolling landscape as I miss the turn through watching the gently rolling landscape and plough through Farmer Jones bright yellow crops. Small birds attempt suicide as we pass by flying low over the roads, large one dominate the sky, rooks and crows jealous of their territory and a Kestrel high above watching minute movements of rabbits or voles or anything that spells lunch! At least today, being a holiday, there were no tractors with their huge tyres pushing us into the verge, no women driving huge 4x4's as the schools were closed and dad, if he is still around, drives his expensive vehicle, and we managed to avoid those who headed for the coast or the big garden centres that attract shoppers on such occasions like the instructors windscreen does.

A good day in the end, we survived!

This is Dreadful

I have nothing to say!

Swine Flu

Just after seven this morning I switched or the wireless. They were talking about people arriving back from Mexico. While offers of early return had been made to hundreds of UK citizens (Where did they get the money from?) only eighty had bothered to take up the offer. The programme then began to talk about this, as indeed all news programmes have talked incessantly about 'Swine Flu,' for days now. (Why is it not called 'Pig Flu?') Sky News have almost nothing else to talk about, the BBC likewise, the papers have panic headlines on the front page and hospitals are preparing for millions of deaths (750,000 in the UK alone some say).
And yet how much do we actually know about this 'Flu?'
There is almost no information that we require being given out just the number of deaths expected, the number of masks being obtained (32 million) and how hospitals are acquiring the anti vaccine in readiness. But I still don't know how this is different from the flu that kills 12,000 every year in the UK, or the one that flattened me last month. Too much screaming 'Don't Panic' and not enough calculated information.
Where would the desperate for cash news media be without a panic?
Consider where the flu started, Mexico! Near the US border thousands have been killed by gangs intent on smuggling drugs into the USA and yet 149 die from this flu and it is a possible pandemic! Now a sober assessment would agree that this indeed is a possible pandemic, but it would also talk of the thousands who died in Mexico from other diseases, often caused by poverty, smoking or just being fat! A few years ago the 'Sun,' that vile tabloid paper, had no news to speak off. No actress was getting divorced, no anti politician headline was available, and no other actress was getting divorced so they found an almost true story and built it up. 'Killer bug eats people,' they screamed! And there was some truth in this. A bug, found in hospitals does indeed get into the person and kill them from within, there is as yet no cure. Eight people have died they claimed, and they were right. However around eight die every year in the UK from this, and they missed this bit out! It was well known to the NHS and no cure had been, or indeed has been found, yet the exaggeration of the story hindered many from entering hospitals to be cured of their diseases! Folk withdrew because of this scare, which if never printed would not have bothered them. 'What the ear doesn't hear the eye doesn't see,' kind of thing.
The same with 'Swine Flu.' Of course it is dangerous but do we need hours and hours of coverage on this every day? Do we need panic instead of knowledge? Do we indeed need to worry as yet?

I am sick of 'Swine Flu' and I have, as yet, not even caught it!





p.s. I read the other day 83% of those who catch it survive. It was a fact hidden in one of the panic stories!

Exercise

Exercise

The usual way to exercise is to walk, cycle, or even go to the gym! Naturally I am not yet fit, or rich enough, to go there, however exercise is urgently required. I did not bother with the cycling as it meant filling the tyres with air. Had I done that there would have been insufficient energy to get on the beast and ride it. I walked around to the market and browsed for any vegetables that had rolled from the stalls. Typically none had and I had to spend cash later in the day when they were desperate to sell up and go home. I suppose starting work at two in the morning makes you keen to finish twelve hours later! I continued the wandering to the gardens where I sat and attempted to make friends with a robin that kept appearing on the end of the bench. His disgust that I failed to feed him was apparent! Am I getting old? I enjoyed just sitting there in the sunshine, surrounded by greenery, watching the white butterflies butterfyingby, and there appears to be more of them than usual this year, and listening to the birdies sing and the beasties buzzing by.

However this relaxation was necessary as I had been partaking of the hardest exercise known to man, housework! I cleaned the kitchen, scraping the muck off, washing the floor, and various other bits, and discovered just how hard work this is! Know wonder mothers in days of your did not need gyms! The best exercise I know, so tomorrow I may even clean the windows, just before the ambulance comes to collect me. Unless one of girls can spare a few minutes.......

Normal Life

At last a day of (almost) normal life. The weariness had gone when I awoke and as the rain kept popping its head around the door I knew things were heading back to normal. The list of things to do was almost untouched, that's normal, the things that were done were done badly, that's normal, and now, too late, I find urgently required things untouched. A normal day. Tomorrow of course I go back to the driving lessons before failing at the next test. I feel like I have been doing these lessons since that bloke posed on his car. He at least had simple rules, do not go above four miles an hour, have a man lead you waving a red flag, and that was that! It was not until 1931 that the first 'Highway Code' was introduced, and that only because thousands were being killed on the roads! Incredible as it may seem there were more deaths on the roads then than there are now! Tomorrow this may go into reverse.....




I recently found this on the web, I still think it's funny......

Mexican Flu

The TV has been full of this latest flu scare, and understandably so. A flu virus found in pigs has merged with one found in humans, and they adapt constantly (the virus not the humans) and we are left with another deadly disease. Sky News was panicking today about the pandemic that will follow, although that may be less because of the deaths and more because there was no other news! This does worry me mind. I am still fighting the last 'Man Flu' that hangs around. Coughs, pains, strange weariness today, and all the usual stuff, so what chance have I of defeating this latest strain? Pah! They are out to get me you know! I have been right all along! However one off the effects of the bug is to make me feel listless and I lack concentration. So my mind is closed today, I have nothing to say!




Had I something to say it would probably have begun with the sad tale of my nieces wee dog. Lou is a cheery little Rottweiler and happy as Larry when he has a postman to chase. He is of course very happy to stretch out on the occasional chair, called that because occasionally folks can get to sit on it, and rest his ten or more stone bulk. The sad thing is the wee dug has a problem common to such beasts and his back legs are going, which naturally stops him going as he would want to. This annoys him as the postman now rushes past making faces at him knowing the dog will not catch him! What a nasty man he is! From what I can make out it appears Lou may have to face the needle as he cannot go on like this. It is not fair as nothing can be done and he is chewing his own tows down to the bone now. Sad affair so it is.



To lighten things I would mention, if I had enough mental energy, something I found on Internet Explorer. I usually use 'FireFox,' I need the 'spellchecker,' but here I downloaded a couple of these annoying extra bars along the top. One comprised nothing but Jazz Radio Stations and since then I have spent much time misspelling things here listening to 'Radio IO' for the 'Jazz Standards' link. Jolly good I say and well worth a listen if you like proper music that does fill your head with banal, meaningless pop. I use this browser and listen on IE. This makes it easier to change stations, but if you don't want another little bar on top of your page and like music, try this 'Radio IO.' It is the jazz link but you can work your way to all kinds of music if you wish.

Busy Saturday

The problem with having a busy day when you are laz...used to not being busy is that while lots has been achieved exhaustion sets in! Being unemployed, and unwanted it appears, the physical fitness disappears. While recently I have been getting half an hour on the bike and walking much more, my knees ache from the activity and something always interferes. Well that's my view anyway, no matter what the rest say! So today, after I had struggled along on tyres that desperately need inflation but had to wait as I thought rain clouds were forming so rushed out, I then finished those jobs that have been requiring attention for some time. Funny how rusty sinks get when you don't clean them too often. Anyway I shopped and then cooked. This some people think of as a joy, they must be mad! Cooking is awful! That is why it should be left to the women, it takes forever and keeps them out of the way! However not having one, they tend to runaway for some reason, I have been forced to chop vegetables for hours today. Onions (tears), potatoes, carrots, a big purple thing, green leaves,and then mix them, first of all into 'Flanders Stew, and then into what I laughingly call soup. This has been referred to as 'primordial soup' by some, but possibly because that stuff had been lying for a while.... I have spent hours at this and what do I get out of it, apart from 'E-Coli? three lunches and six soups. It would have been more 'Flanders Stew' lunches but I had a bit more than I ought tonight, just a bit. The sooner I get a proper (easy) job the better!



Today, in between onion peeling, I also managed to obtain more driving lessons. After the stupidity of forgetting to use the mirrors during the test (What cars where?). I have another test booked for the first of June. Fail this one, and they have changed it to make it harder, then it can be forgotten. I just cannot afford it now, not that I could before of course. 'Capital One Card' must love me! The cash flow here is so bad the Chancellor has asked me for advice on his budget. Unfortunately I think he listened to me.

A Problem Solved

I had cause to drag my weary bloated body outside into the sunshine today. From the north facing window I laughed at the English attitude of wearing shorts and T-shirts simply because the sun is shining. The cold biting wind howling up the street appears to go through them and they don't notice this! I have to laugh. However I put on my cap and jacket and made my way to the computer shop. I ignored the dank, cheap looking PC shop round the corner, the one with the dubious employees, and went to a safe reputable company. I was after a filter. I was assured by one of said company talking on local radio yesterday that this was the answer to my problem. The problem was that I could not use the PC and phone at the same time, one or the other was OK but not both together at it ought to be on broadband.

The shop was expensive, and the man there as cheerful and helpful as I would be had I spent the night sleeping rough in a railway station in mid January! So I disturbed you fixing someones machine, no doubt at great expense, and you had to sell me £4:95 worth of filter, which cost the company 66pence I presume, so sorry! As I questioned why it was different from the one I had in my hand you could have explained they came in a variety of shapes rather than be dumbfounded as I clearly was. Sorry I asked! However, in spite of my ignorant doubts and much confusion, it works! Now I can use both PC and phone at the same time. Nobody calls of course! I will set up the ansafone tomorrow and discover just how few people actually call! Not counting spam and bailiffs.

On the way back I wandered around by what we here call a river. Now having been brought up overlooking the Firth of Forth, which is well over a mile wide directly in front of me, I have to call this burbling stream of six to ten feet wide, a river? Tsk! Certainly during winter it helpfully bursts its banks and floods those houses thoughtfully built in the flood plain, but really to me it remains a wee burn, not a river like they ought to be. Still, as the sun shone and I began to sweat a little, I got a couple of snaps of the water, managing to avoid the plastic bottles, 'Costa Coffee' cups and floating bodies that pass by. Once again i could listen to the birdies sing in the trees, the water gurgling by and the splash as another urchin falls in when mum sits there smoking funny cigarettes. All part of life's rich panoply I guess. Crivvens it was warm when I got back mind. I was sweating like a pig, and here I was with my cap on and the jacket, cold in winter air, proving heavy and clammy in the sun. T- shirt tomorrow!

Saturn

Now here's a thing, an item in the 'Daily Mail' worth reading! Yes indeed here is a novelty! However the fact that this paper is not objecting to some misdemeanour of the Labour government must not detract from the fact that these pictures are worth looking at. Instead of whining about some nasty politically correct behaviour they have decided to show us something interesting. Here we have pictures of Saturn that far distant planet with the rings around it. Brilliant! The pictures come from Nasa's 'Cassini' spacecraft which has been flying around the planet for a couple of years now. The spacecraft took five years to reach Saturn, photographing the planets it passed on the way like some demented tourist, and will go around the planet another sixty times. Lucky spacecraft!

There is something compelling about space. We all wish to believe that there are little green men wandering around desperate to meet us, and some claim to have met these creatures. I confess to a cynical approach to these accounts, especially from women who go into far to much detail as to what the wee green men were interested in. However there are billions of stars and planets out there, some say they are as far as 13 billion light years away even! Now that is far! However as the light has only just reached us it may be these galaxies are in fact no longer in existence? It may well be one day they may appear to fall from the sky? I believe there is life of a sort out there Jim, but "Not as we know it."

Click the link and see more great pictures of Saturn, it is worth a look!

What's Wrong With Words?

Now I am getting annoyed, and you know I am always so placid usually, but irked I am becoming. Once again I am plagued with folk making me their 'friend' but not bothering to read my page then expecting me to read theirs or, worse, just click their 'Adsense.' Sorry no can do folks. I do not need yet another smartie telling me how to make money with blogs, I have my own financial advisor (who has yet to pay for the stuff I put on his second blog by the way!) and have no interest in reading your adverts. So please sling your collective hooks!

However the thing that annoys me most this bright sunny evening (and one does not say that too often) is a blog with nothing but videos on each post! Now a blog specialising in photography is a good thing,(and we all know one lass who is very good at the pictures don't we?), there are some wonderful pictures to be seen on the web and each opens up doors into new worlds - usually! However a blog that just gives videos is lazy! I have posted three I think, and each one important and relevant to my minds eye but I think the purpose of a blog is to say something for yourself, not let others do this for you. There is no requirement to be articulate, as you will have noticed, you just have to speak for yourself! Say what you think whatever the purpose of your blog is and say it yourself! It can be humorous, worthy or just howling at the moon, a fine way to spend the night I can tell ye, as long as it is your own thoughts and ideas. Posting videos of favoured sites may be good if done occasionally but not all the time! The one that turned up today made me pine for some of my favourite blogs. These are enjoyable, well written and honest. Whether personal, with a specific purpose in mind, humorous or just filing in the day I enjoy them. They take me into other worlds and bring new friends into my life. A video however interesting cannot do this and one after another just means I pass on to other places. Just think what you have lost? On the other hand we shall forget that last bit shall we?




Now the intellect of the general run of Glaswegians has always, in my humble view, been low. The nature of the beast has been revealed to us far too often for anyone in Scotland to misunderstand their limited appreciation of life and all it has. So when it was announced that the 'Old Firm,' that is the Rangers and Celtic football clubs, have another possible chance to move into the English money spinning league we all had our opinions as to whether this is a good thing or not. Now consider this. Rangers are a club that at the end of the 19th century realised that their main income source came from those around them, many of whom worked in the shipyards of Govan. Many of these had emigrated from Belfast and other Northern Ireland towns and brought with them their 'Protestant, 'Orange Order' bigotry. No Roman Catholic was allowed to work in the shipyards then. By playing on this and ensuring they were the only side in the area (they helped Partick Thistle move to northern Glasgow for this purpose) they became known as the 'protestant team in Glasgow. Meanwhile on the other side of Glasgow a new team had been created by an RC Priest and became known as the Catholic club, Celtic FC. While Rangers played on the 'orangemen' Celtic played on their Irish roots. The 'Home rule' debate at the turn of the century almost led to civil war which was only averted by the coming of the 'Great War' in 1914, exacerbated the problem and polarised feelings between the clubs.

Today this polarisation has once again been encouraged by the recent troubles. Rangers fans waving 'Union Flags' at their games, something no other Scots football club would do, only Scots flags would be flown at them! Indeed so desperate to be seen as linked to Westminster some Rangers fans refer to themselves as 'British' and not 'Scots' and even go so far as to wear 'England' shirts! Of course the rise once again of Scottish Nationalism has also increased their desire for the Union. This leaves them ignoring a thousand years of English oppression to give support to a Northern Irish cause to which they have no connection. Such treasonable actions rightly being denounced by true Scots. Celtic fans in the mean time have flourished as Scots and Irish, or 'Plastic Paddies' as the term goes. many believe in Scotland yet when push comes to shove support Ireland first. Neither club grace Scotland with this bigotry and both have worked together so many times while encouraging hatred between their fans to ensure a more committed support which brings in the cash. The less intelligent, found often in the west of Scotland, rally blindly to their cause.

Here in this picture we see the result of such 'loyalty,' and the effects it has on the befuddled Glasgow brain. Here we have a TV company in a pub asking Rangers fans to hold up a card showing either a Scots flag or an English one, to indicate where they wish to see their team play. "Do you want to see Rangers play in the Scottish Premier League or the English Premier League?" The answer from this Rangers man's drink sozzled brain is to wear an English football shirt, something no Scotsman could ever do, and wave the card featuring the Scots flag! The sad fact is the wee laddie will not see the irony (look 'irony' up in a dictionary Yanks) in this! This guy also has the right to vote you realise!

Nothingness

That is the inside of my head today, nothingness! Nothing has occurred as far as I can see. All the items listed to be done have been checked, the exercise walk (my knees ache so that happened), the posting of the packet up north (the receipt is there so that happened), The form given by the dole office has been sent off, (either that or it has walked as it is not here), the dinner was cooked and eaten (the stomach pump is here so that happened), yet I seem to have done nothing. My head had not concentrated on anything constructive all say. When I was walking in the sunshine (sunshine!) my mind was not with me, it was everywhere but somewhere useful. I sit here to do something constructive and an hour later I am still playing 'TechTris' (don't ask I've lost the link!). This is the third or fourth day this has happened and I am getting annoyed now. I was going to get annoyed earlier but I forgot.

I remember this however.
A woman is standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror. She is not happy with what she sees and says to her husband, "I feel horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment."
The husband replies, ‘Your eyesight’s damn near perfect.’

Sometimes you just feel down don't you. Virus's (or is it Virii?) make you feel low, circumstances, nourishment, and being a miserable git all combine to let things feel worse than they are. Indeed all around the world folk are in a very bad way. Starvation, natural disasters and events cause grief and folks everywhere are worse of than yourself, like the suicidal twin who killed her sister by mistake. There again there is the old man we call 'Spiderman,' it's not that he has special super powers, he just finds it difficult to get out of the bath.Time for cocoa I think....

Another Spring Morning

Another chance to wander through the park and enjoy the aroma of wet vegetation. Another chance to watch gray clouds scud by. Another chance to watch drookit squirrels chase one another through soggy wet leaves and frighten the birds happily ensconced there. Another day in which to wonder why the shoes on the feet are on the feet considering the holes in the soles of each one. Still, you can tell it is Spring as the weather is warmer and the people passing by are wearing thin shirts and Spring fashions. Naturally they are soaking wet but being English they have not realised it yet!

Back to Work Tuesday

The world returns to normal as folk head back to work, well most of them. Many kids are still of school and of those that have gone back many have skipped it anyway. The world turns once again, well not here, the 'Man Flu' still left me woozy this morning, will these bugs never end? So I sat here and 'rested' instead of following the usual course. The cloud cover remained, the sun occasionally shone through, but I just let my head throb and my mind wander. It didn't go far!
Tomorrow I will return to the job hunt, finish the jobs that lie abandoned, and go back to bed several times. (Actually I will not do the latter. I just say that to upset them who are working.)

Easter Monday Holiday

Yes indeed it is a holiday.
You can tell by the mist and the occasional rain.

Easter Morning

Saturday Evening

This is a Saturday Evening Post.........

Good Friday

This morning I awoke at five thirty and noticing the sun was rising, the sky blue and the streets empty I decided to get on the bike and saunter along the road. The thing is my knee problem has meant I walk at a slight angle and this has resulted in my other knee developing muscle trouble. The bad weather has limited my walking and cycling and now I have resumed the muscles are clamming up. After sitting for a while I really struggle to get going. So the opportunity to exercise and loosen up was not to be missed. A long straight, gentle, run down Stane Street and round the old haunts eased me into the day.

After dumping the bike I walked around in an attempt to avoid stiffness. This was excellent as the birds were singing in the trees and all around fabulous bird song was heard. Small birds, unseen high in the trees sang out so loud they must have been heard miles away. A thrush watched as another small bird fought to bring a worm out of the ground, and somewhere what sounded like a grouse or something of that kind, called from the wooded gardens of the big houses. As there was little traffic the natural sounds could be appreciated more. However I suspect the birds and squirrels and other beasties helping themselves to the chips and half eaten burgers left by the cretins who drop the stuff as they wend their way home from the towns pubs appreciate their breakfast more than I enjoyed their sound.

Wandering down I took a few pictures of the old houses that reflect the wealth that was once found down that way. While one or two pubs still exist all the shops have been turned into homes and the once bustling bakery. These houses still cost a fortune as the middle classes spend over the odds for listed buildings that enable them to live amongst 'their people' even if the buildings themselves, while romantic, are somewhat uncongenial. In fact this road is very busy and the traffic passing by not only shakes the buildings but leaves them covered in black filth. This does not deter as they are mixing with the folks who matter! My pictures are not that special, if you like that sort of thing try A Changing Life, a laid back relaxing blog, or My Thai Friend, some good pics and reading there.

As I passed I found a damaged female blackbird sitting in the road. I attempted to pick it up and place it in the park itself as there was not much else I could do for the beast. However it flapped away from me and I was just upsetting her more. She must have hit one of the few passing cars and appears to have damaged herself underneath, possibly just her leg, and hopefully this will heal with time. Had I caught her, apart from putting the bird in the park to avoid traffic, I have no idea what I could have done.

Good Friday, the day we remember Jesus went to the cross for us. The world continues on its way, ignoring him for the most part. It was ever thus. Jesus chose to reveal himself to the world through his people, and the church spread throughout the world not by spectacular events, which fade, but by a changed people. If Jesus people lived the way he told them to it would spread further today. Jesus reaches folks one at a time as they respond to his actions on the cross.

Hot Toddy

One of the benefits of suffering, with no sympathy from womankind, is the option to turn to a hot toddy! So to relieve the aches, the temperature changes, the throat and the cough problems I shuffled along to Sainsburys and infected a few dozen staff and customers, although they only realise this now of course. I left with my whisky, jar of overpriced honey (funny how the booze is always on offer and the food keeps rising in price) and knowing they would not supply hot water to go with this I wended my way home. This of course is a wonderful way in which to deal with 'Man Flu,' and please not 'Man Flu' is of course very different from the sniffle which affects women. 'Man Flu' is a disease, not a minor chill caught listening to other folks conversations at keyholes, or standing in draughts gossipping about things that do not concern you. 'Man Flu' originates with a virus of astonishing power, if it affected woman it would of course cause certain death, however men are built with a more sturdy frame and will, with difficulty, fight of the brute. As science has yet to find a cure for this terror we must resort to time honoured answers, 'Hot Toddy' is one of the most effective.

Now as you know I am not one to complain, and I have enjoyed constant drinking of these toddies and the pleasure it has brought me, however I decided to fore go these today and return to the real world and I am surprised. I am surprised to notice lots of spiders crawling up and down the window and my hands shaking somewhat. Maybe I need another toddy.......?

Tony Makes His Move

As you know there is a position arising for 'President of the EU.' Tony Blair has made it clear he wishes to accept this post, although it may not yet be offered to him, and today there is a report on one of his moves in this direction. The Independent newspaper covers a story in which Tony is stating the Pope has it wrong about homosexuals. Now I find this fascination for a couple of reasons.

The first is of course his political nous in realising that by making it clear his attitude is 'Politically Correct' he immediately gains much support from the powers behind the throne. Looking to the fashion of the day and jumping on any bandwagon going is Tony's way! He realises that by opposing the Roman Catholic Church, and the Pope in particular, he has swung a large number of the right people in his direction. The left leaning members will see this as a brave and timely action, and note how he has allowed homosexuality to be regarded as normal in the UK, alongside the encouraging of abortion also. Definitely PC in many minds, and brave enough to oppose the Pope also. Tony is half way there to be President, and we know how much he likes the presidential style. His wife, known as 'Cherie Booth' at 'work,' but 'Mrs Cherie Blair' when making money on the back of his name and position, will obviously be pleased with the money this brings in. There is nothing so admirable as a 'socialist' on the make!

There is another small point that comes to mind here. The bible, the book Christians must base their opinions upon, tells us clearly that homosexuality is wrong, the RC church call it a clear 'sin!' To decide that 'times have changed' means we can alter biblical truths appears somewhat arrogant or not thought out properly, especially from one who has only recently had the courage to stand up and be admitted to the church he now wishes to instruct. How many have joined the church, any church, and decided to amend those bits they did not like? Far too many in truth, and we have all been there I can assure you. However the bible is not just a rule book. This is Gods Revelation to man and as such contains eternal truths not passing fashions. Covering several thousand years, and informing us, as Thucydides knew two thousand five hundred years ago, that human nature does not change,and if you claim to belong to a religion you must obey what it says, especially when ignorant it seems of its main teachings. Now I realise the Roman church has many faults and that this pope speaks for no Christians in reality, however, he has at least studied the biblical approach. Maybe Tony should do the same?

I wonder if the pope will reply to his man? If so he could ask tony why he went into Iraq? he could point out the dead children, thousands who died from the effect of bomb and shell strewn over the land. He could explain why hundreds of British troops die both there and in Afghanistan because he and George W Bush wanted the oil and invented tales of WMD. There are lots of questions the pope could ask Tony, I hope he asks them!