You know it is not your day when............

You know it is not your day when the automatic doors at ‘Tesco's’ do not open and you walk straight into them. You continue the luck by finding your newspaper is not available, and the bread that you desperately long for is no longer obtainable. The unfairness of life smacks you in the face at this point. The point is where other people’s lack of appreciation for the things you love costs you dear!

Of course the day can get better, however wet you get walking home in the rain, but you know it won't. The water bill is lying behind the door, it joins the Gas and Electric ones in the 'This can wait for another day' tray. Stretching back with the morning coffee your eye catches the calendar and note the birthday that you thought is next week occurs today! As you jump to find a card and stop a family disaster the coffee helpfully falls over your laptop.

Just three hundred and twelve more days before the year ends. It seems a long time............

Anti-Christian Persecution

The anti-Christian persecution grows apace. Silently and slowly more and more we see the persecution enlarge. Today the 'Daily Telegraph' has this comment,
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/opinion/main.jhtml;jsessionid=BSB3KPZBLZNRXQFIQMGSFGGAVCBQWIV0?xml=/opinion/2007/02/10/do1001.xml

Is that link long enough?

Here we see organisations working (successfully amongst folk of all sorts, helping them to a better life, and being rejected by town councils because they are Christian orientated! The fact that they work, and that lives are changed for the better is unimportant. These folk put their beliefs first and do not submit to the totalitarian ideology of the council. How can this be? If football crowds are no longer allowed to call footballers 'poofs' because it is 'offensive,' how offensive is it in a free country to object to someone because of their religious belief? Or would an 'ethnic' religion be acceptable I wonder?

Slowly but surely we are entering a period where the Christian church will be attacked because it does not follow the political correctness of the Blair government. Behind it of course is the power of the enemy who cares nothing for politics, but uses this to ensure an assault in these days on those who reject his ways and choose life!

Hard days are ahead once more for the church in the UK. Around the world, in India, China and Muslim lands everywhere the church suffers. Soon the persecution will develop here in this land. Look out for it.

Home is Two Places Edinburgh and Essex

Flying to Edinburgh almost brought one of those 'Idiot' moments. I had booked one of the Boarding Passes,but was unsure about how much Airport Tax had been paid, it increased at the start of the month. As I arrived at the desk to enquire re tax they pointed out the check-in had closed. The idiot inside me had read the closing time as the opening time! So next thing I was rushing, and upsetting my knees in the process, towards Gate 81. This was of course miles away, and I had to go through the security, then the 'shoe check' then rush for miles. Naturally,when I got there the plane was delayed and there had been no need to hurry. Jesus was looking after me, why did I worry? But I do. Self obsessed as I am.

Edinburgh is so different from Essex. Not just the city but the life. When I am there I am actually often back in time, I refer to the airport as 'Turnhouse,' a name not used for thirty years, and I return to a life I left that long ago. Not that it is all bad, however many of my memories are, and I do not like them. However, it is good to see the family. My nieces have all grown up into fine attractive intelligent women each still showing different characters but each one being a lovely lass in every way. Their kids are growing up in the same fine Scots tradition, however much political correctness destroys their education and common sense. And that is the one thing I have always missed down here. Watching them grow up. Now I miss the kids also.
It had to be, but how I wish I had been different.

My mother is now 92 and beginning to feel her age. But she well might outlive most of us! It is difficult being there as I am too selfish and too used to being on my own, hence the great desire to get back home come Sunday night. Nothing is better than being in your own place and following your own routine, no matter how mean and squalid it might be! Again I ask, could I live there? Not at home certainly, but maybe in Edinburgh or thereabouts if I found the right place. Of course to do this I need to win the lottery, and that my friend is just a lottery. But, after the tiredness wore off, I am back in the routine. Job hunt, self concern, staring at wall time asking what to do, then ignoring God and doing whatever I want anyway. Followed either by guilt or nothingness, then questioning how I am to get out of this? Easy pal. stop being selfish, let Jesus be Lord, and it will fall into place, slowly maybe, but surely!

Anyway, the flight back was interrupted by the neighbour at my side talking. Why, I ask, why can women not just look out the window and enjoy the view like I do? However Fiona turned out to be a bright highly intelligent woman, and there is not many of those around. Working for the Voluntary Arts project and struck me as well worth knowing. In the end I had to admit it was the best journey for a while. I also noticed how many folk seem to stand around doing little at the airport. Seems to me that is something to look into. That's my kind of work.

So by the grace of God the trip went reasonably well. However I still do not relate properly to Mum. Would I get on so well with the rest if I was nearby? They would see me as I am, and although they have a good idea of my ways, it will be awful to have them know just what a complete clown I am.

So Jesus, here we are, grateful for the wee holiday, but living totally for my squalid self once again. I apologise almost humbly, but still find my mind full of thoughts that do not glorify you, expose my weakness and emptiness, and indicate just how far I am from you. Should I stay in Essex or indeed anywhere else? I just do not know. Many good things here in northern Essex, not being alongside the stereotype 'Essex Boy and Girl' is one of them. But what now? I don't know, why ask me.......?

The Great War for Civilisation

I am reading Robert Fisk's book, 'The Great War for Civilisation' at the moment. I am enjoying it, and learning a great deal from it. Unfortunate that it is so big a book, but I suppose it is an enormous subject, and indeed Fisk's life's work in effect. Afghanistan, Iran and now I am onto Iraq. The main lesson is the obvious one, Islamic societies do not want to be told what to do by the west! They desire decent treatment, and independence. Extremists like Bin Laden are not the problem, that is the misuse and misunderstanding of the culture by those that think they can push the world around.

There are many failings in the societies of the middle east, far too many! Cruel savagery is not uncommon. Savagery of a kind not seen in the west since, well, the last time it was seen. Human beings are all the same underneath after all! The British, French, Russian and U.S. empires have all made promises they would not keep, and used and abused the area for their own ends. They still do! It is remarkable how many mistakes have been made in the past and now are being repeated because experts, and ignorant leaders, either do not know of them, or for some obscure reason, imagine that 'This time it will be different.' How wrong they are.

What to do? Good question, I hope you have the answer! I don't.

We could say Jesus is in control and working out his plan. True, but we see it as in a very dark mirror. Many suffer and die if the troops remain, and many will suffer and die if they leave. Oil, the main point for Bush, will keep the interest ongoing. Terrorist strikes may also keep troops there. But again, can you win a war in Afghanistan? The British didn't, the Russians with great power failed miserably, and it is hundreds of years since anyone conquered that land. Will a few thousand, well trained, troops win now? No is the answer. If Pakistan helps out they might. Pakistan cannot help more than she is doing, the people would turn on the leaders. The Al-Quedah (you spell it!) threat may not be as great now as it was. many other groups working alone may be more of a danger. Instead of fighting, maybe dealing with Muslims would be a better, long term idea. However, I have no idea how it would work. Did you notice me going round in circles here?

Sunshine

The sun is shining and bathing the cold, damp land outside with that lovely yellow light. Overhead the last of the cloud is sweeping south, pushed hard by the cold north wind, leaving behind an ever deepening blue sky. Lovely! A simple thing sunshine, but even with such biting cold air it cheers the soul. For those who spend six months or more in the darkness of constant night, depression is commonplace. Many suffer here because their work keeps them indoors, far from daylight. Life can be improved for each worker simply by putting them near a large window, and letting the light shine in.

For me, if it were possible, I would be on one of those countries that endure sunshine all day long. I realise that this would be difficult to endure, bright sunshine, light, warmth, happiness, all things that need constant endurance I admit, but I am willing to give it a go! Of course, at this moment, I sit hear fully clothed, with a jacket round my shoulders, another over my knees, the heating is on, and the chill that goes through my bones is not lifted even by the sight of the sun on the park opposite.

Still, I'm happy eh?

Another Rain Soaked Monday

Gray clouds overhead, rain leaving the streets dark and wet. Folks slipping by, heads down, hoods up. Another Monday in the United Kingdom! Situated here on the eastern edge of the Atlantic Ocean we are buffeted by the winds and the rain. This does give a good harvest, unless it is flooded out of course, and produces a prosperity for some. It has also played it part in producing a dark humour, designed to make the most of mornings like these. Everywhere folk have made it to work, the weather on their lips. Some cursing, some sardonically telling others that it's 'good for the ducks', and being informed no doubt as to just exactly what the ducks can do with the weather.
For me a day of study, it says here, cleaning up, and possible despair as I remember just how good my God has been to me, and just how I withhold myself from him. Self centred, spoilt brat that I am! Will today produce a heart felt change? Or just more of the failure that I have become so used to? We shall see.

Another Wasted Week!

OK so I did look for work, and with a bad knee, no required skills and age against me nothing happened. But what else did I do? Nothing!

Piled around me are things to study, lists of jobs to be done, books everywhere crying out to be read, and on top of them all....dust! Sums me up this week. I tried, oh yes I tried, but for several days I found myself just sitting there. Not thinking anything, just blandly staring out the window, or just sitting. Actually it was quite enjoyable to do that. Instead of having to do things, read this, write that, get up and do, just sitting for a while in the quiet, with the various noises of life outside not really intruding made a restful change. I did in fact read some of the Joe Lee book. Written, unfortunately, in a 'Sunday Post' manner but worth a look nonetheless. Not enough about his time during the Great War for me, but I suppose like so many others he did not talk too much about it afterwards. The books of his adventures no doubt missed out much of the sights he saw. Those men, like soldiers today, rarely find outsiders who understand how they comprehend their warfare.

Now, after what can laughingly be called exercise, I feel more up for it......hold on, maybe another cup of tea, as everything can wait can't it? I will do the job search this afternoon maybe, and the study then also, and maybe I should just play that 'Blast Billiards' game until the Spirit moves me......

So, Maybe I was Wrong...........

It has been known.
I truly believed that I had sensed the end for me and Jesus. Sitting here I was in some degree of empty vacuousness, and all seemed at an end. However, in the time since Jesus has shown his grace and mercy to me. Once more leading me into a deeper knowledge of himself. Answering prayers that I had not quite asked and revealing his love for me, and desire to have me fully given over to him. I praise him for his answers, and am amazed at his care, and undeserved mercy.
What a God we have in this Jesus! Well, that sounds like one of those awful American Christian sites we see far too much off! I don't often talk like that, I am a wee bit more sober and Scots in my approach. But it is true however, and I am glad and want to have more of Jesus, and to be given over to him completely.
Let's go God!

God Has Chosen Me,and I Have Let it Pass Me By

It was there once.
Jesus held out tome the promise of a new life.
His power was available.
The Holy Spirit was there willing to make me a new person.
Willing to change my life for the better. To enable me to do great things for God.

I missed it.

The power was there. He wanted so much to make me new.
I found it ‘inconvenient’ and now am left, bereft.

I have once again tried to reach him, to let him in.
Once again I am aware of holding back, not opening up.
I remember the word concerning the water flowing from the temple.
How I was seen to stand in it up to my ankles, and say ‘it’s not convenient.’
How I stopped the Holy Spirit working.
I said, once again, I want to let you in.

Then as I sat down here I had the ‘sense’ that it was too late.
I had missed it.
The chance has gone.
Gods will has passed.
I am bereft.

What now?

New Years Day

New year means little to me now. Brought up in Edinburgh meant at one time it was an excuse for a drunken night out. Not that drunken meant what it does now. This was a time for greeting strangers, knocking on doors and having a good time amongst friends, many of whom you did not know and never saw again! Today it has lost its appeal for many. The attitudes are somewhat rougher and the cheeriness of the past has been replaced by a rip off mentality in a commercial celebration. On the other hand, in the thirty years since the openness of an Edinburgh Hogmany's decline, the English have discovered New Year as another time for a piss up. As if they needed an excuse! The development of a strong economy has meant an overpaid, overweight wealthy nation sees it as a right to indulge as and when they like, with no regard for anyone else. As a nation becomes wealthier the more individual and self obsessed it becomes.

The change of a calendar date means nothing in reality, it is simply an administrative system to help us know where we are in time. The significance really comes from the northern hemisphere looking towards the spring as the days get longer and the dark winter begins to pass. Maybe we should scrap Christmas and New Year and just have a celebration on the shortest day of the year. It would be more honest!

Another year but little has changed so far. The virus still makes me cough, and leaves me near deaf in one ear. The cave lies untidy all around, the TV is stuffed full of mediocrity and downright pap! A new day but not much changes in this badly run, celebrity chasing, empty, lost society of ours.

A good new year to you all, well, both of you, maybe......

Christmas Day

Time to remember that Jesus loves me! Wondering why can wait a bit longer. Time to rejoice within at his choice of sinner. Time to wallow in his love and allow self to love in return. Doing it by 'law' will not work. Time to sit back and enjoy a day.
Lunch of leg of lamb with all the trimmings. A beer, or two, coffee, and feet up to watch Christmas Day TV. And if you want to waste time, Christmas Day TV is a complete waste of time!
At this moment we celebrate the coming of the Son of God into his world by watching 'The World at War' series. We could be watching one of the many awful films that fill the day elsewhere. Mostly aimed at kids, but they are much too busy breaking thousands of pounds of gifts that arrived only a few hours ago. There will be at least one Dickens story, usually the Christmas one.
Dickens, renown for his tales of Victorian woe and vileness, yet impressed on kids as a 'must see' each Christmas.

At least the traffic is slow. Few vehicles have passed by today. However quit a few have walked past, in groups and singularly, often walking the dog. Some duties change nought!
The gray, overcast sky cheers no-one on a day like this. It never snows, but that does not stop every other advert in the land featuring that awful substance. The grayness makes depressing viewing, causing the leafless trees to look stark and bare and eerie. Hardly celebration skies!

Jesus was of course born far from this area, and nowhere neat Christmas. if we done our homework correctly we could celebrate in a warmer climate. But those who took over the northern midwinter festival, while understandable, have done us no favours. Still, could be worse.

Christmas greetings to all my readers.....if any!

Christmas at the Cave of Adullam

Once again it is that time of year. The time when shops are crowded with self-seeking, pushy, pig ignorant folks preparing to celebrate the time of goodwill to all men. The time of year when shopkeepers raise their prices so they can reduce them later by a fraction, always calling it a ‘great saving’ before Xmas is over. The time of year when daft folks spend thousands of pounds covering the outside of their house with fairy lights and plastic Santa's. Always claiming they do it for charity, and not just because they are stark staring bonkers!

This is the time of year when countless TV adverts are stuffed full of snow scenes, often Victorian. Ignoring totally that it never snows at Christmas, that snow is bloody awful stuff, and that the cheery Victorians displayed actually died in their twenties of Rickets, consumption or malnutrition! We wish you a merry Christmas, oh yes indeed! Come try carol singing at my door in Victorian dress oh yes!

Apart from the requirement to spend vast sums of money that does not exist, on goods that are not worth the expense, on kids that will forget them almost immediately and adults that give back presents that come nowhere near the value of the gifts handed to them, thus leaving one considerably out of pocket, apart from that, Christmas can be a happy time. Unless you take sick, fall down the stairs or have lost your keys/wallet/mind! All of which are possible at this time of year!

The arrival of Christmas means of course that another year is nearly finished. Once again the hair has turned a more blatant gray, the stiffness in the muscles increases, football players earning £40,000 a week look like children, policemen call you ‘dad’ instead of ‘oi!’ and the energy levels that once took you up hill and down Mrs Dale have gone and left you exhausted while watching televised football. This weariness results in an ever increasing irritation at the amount of ‘pap’ pedalled as worthwhile in the press or media. Societies incessant demand for meaningless trivia sticks in the throat like Moms apple pie. And we know what sort of cook she was! ‘Reality shows’ showing as much reality as a six pound note, find audiences in the millions. While most tend to be small minded, pig ignorant adolescents with malformed brains grown ups and intelligent folk have been known to watch, with glazed eyes, the deviants, attention seekers and psychopaths who thrill televisions high earners so much.

‘Why Should Britain Fear!’ as they used to say.

The high heat of summer saw an opportunity to obtain a red skin and itchy arms for a while. Holidaying by trundling the bike five miles up to a local village of wife swappers and business frauds made for variety. Usually this occasion brings contact with drug dealers and ‘Eastender’ species. You have met them. These are the folk that complain about those foreigners (e.g. blacks) who have moved into the area. To avoid contamination with such immigrants these folks roll up their ‘Daily Mails’ and run off to the Costa Brava to mix with thousands of others of similar mind. No curries in Spain mate, just good old fish and chips!

The accommodation continues to inspire love and devotion. Except the tiles falling off the bathroom wall into the bath, when I am sitting reading my books there. The draught round the bath since the failed attempt to line the rim has been more noticeable as the outside temperature has fallen. The video plays now, one day it will once again record, maybe. I would Google for instructions or repair on the PC but that collapsed and left me with a small laptop, which has several troubles which googling does not answer. The building itself does have a strange smell now, one I had not noticed before. My neighbour mentioned that this has been noticed only since the washing machine broke down. He moved recently. The machine is still broken....

Another Christmas bringing to an end another year of joy and happiness. This leaves us looking forward to another of the same.
Another year of mistakes and breakdowns, of disruption and those needless police raids just before dawn.
Another year off sitting in the park with a can of ’Special brew’ and muttering and growling at passers by.

It’s tradition!

Another year looms bringing the opportunity to be caught outside in a thunderstorm wearing nothing but summer wear, the same summer wear now worn for several years. Another year to find Visa bills falling through the door in a heap, another year of ‘Asbos’ caused by sitting on that bench in the park, of late night noise from folks nearby, of sniffling away at that cold that has hung around since 1987. Another year of finding the milk has run out and the shops have closed, another year of past intimates telling of their success once they have moved on. Another year of wandering round the market at closing time picking up moth eaten cabbages and such for lunch. Another year to look forward to the same as the last, and the one before that, and on and on and on and on back to time immemorial.

Another Christmas. Another cup of ‘OXO’ followed by a mouldy tangerine. Another attempt to drown sorrows in that £1:25 wine form Somerfield. (Two for £1:95) Another Christmas to look forward to, I must go and prepare......

Prostitute Killings

Five dead prostitutes naturally leads not only to a massive police hunt, but also to a media frenzy.
Nothing pleases the hacks more than sex, and sex connected to murder, and a serial killer at that, is glorious for the muck raking press of this nation. How they have enjoyed dredging up all the stories they can concerning the lives of these girls. Almost twenty four hour coverage on SKY News alone! This has gone for over a week and already there are indications of irritation among the hacks that so far no one has been found. Not that they would be trying to force the investigation eh? Claims of some being interviewed are rebutted by the police, yet those claims still appear in a press desperate to fill pages with 'Revelations!'
Suddenly prostitutes, usually regarded as 'dregs of society' are seen as 'our sisters and family.' Those who would not want them within a hundred miles of their homes tell us of their concern for the girls welfare. Those claiming to represent what they call 'sex workers' appear on every channel and paper. Concern for the girls well being is promoted at many levels.
But do they really care?

As has been stated, while all want to stop the killings and few if any would wish the girls dead, there are none who who welcome prostitutes either walking their street or working from brothels nearby. Where they operate problems of anti social behaviour mount! Women living in the area are accosted by men looking for women, the same girls worry that their men are accosted by those women working the streets! Most want them far from their children. Legalising brothels to keep the girls safe sounds a good idea. But who runs the brothels? Gangsters? Where do the girls come from? Too many here already are sex slaves from all over eastern Europe! Would they not be put through such brothels?

More important must be the actual people involved. How can it be acceptable that women should use men for money? The implication today is always that men use women, while the idea of the reverse is ignored. Human nature teaches us otherwise. If not kidnapped and used as sex slaves where do the girls come from? Most in Ipswich are drug users, 98% according to one group working among them. Girls from a variety of backgrounds hooked on Heroin or cocaine. Can it be acceptable to allow them to use 'safe' brothels while not saving them from drug dependency? We must not forget some girls go on the game for other reasons. Lack of love in their life, from childhood upwards. Inadequacy feelings, maybe they just realise that there is easy money to be made out there! Nothing in such a lifestyle is straight forward.

Legalising the 'oldest profession' would not help anyone. Care for those involved, men or women, as men prostitute themselves also, is required. Those who sell themselves have many problems and unless we recognise this we cannot help them. Allowing them areas to operate just keeps them trapped in a world that dehumanises and destroys them. The false liberals who wish to allow them freedom to operate do not wish to help prostitutes, they just dump the liberal lifestyle on them and run off and let them fend for themselves. This is not care, it is selfishness!

What sort of man or woman needs to use prostitutes? Again we see broken lives and desperate needs. Again care and understanding is required, and a more positive acceptance of responsibilities will lead to a satisfying life.

Cruel World!

For over a week now I have been suffering! Suffering such as no-one can imagine! Well, no-one but those who endure such a sickness like mine. It has threatened for weeks and eventually broke on Saturday. I was trapped indoors until yesterday, unable to sleep till last night, and that with difficulty, unable to enjoy anything that life has to offer.

Yes,I had a cold!

The 'common cold' seen by some as a mere trivial event is to those who suffer these things at their worst a cruel, demanding, destructive force that permeates the entire being and reduces the strong and mighty to dust! Yet my favourite checkout girl in Sainsburys yesterday muttered disparagingly 'Man cold.' I indicated I was dying but this received nothing more than a derogatory ' Huh.' The cruelty of women knows no bounds! Even now, my head hurts like an axe has been used on it, I can't stop coughing, menthol type sweets to enable me to breathe have left me sick to my stomach, concentration levels are feeble, and the temperature still affects me whatever it is!
The Christmas shop has been hindered,the box has not been sent, stamps not bought, other things left undone. Naturally the place stinks, all is dishevelled, and I really do not care a whit!

But I am not one to complain!

However, the cruel world that thinks a 'cold' is of no matter will soon be knocking on my door for sympathy. Then I will become like the checkout girl, 'I don't do sympathy!' Then they will be telling me how serious their 'disease' is, while I had a mere chill!

Over two hundred cold virus can be found. Each one constantly mutates and every single one has come by my door! I am convinced this one has been hanging around since that day in 1987 I got caught in the rain! Everybody suffers from them, none can escape! Yet there is no way to cure the thing? Colds and Flu, the real thing not the type of suffering I have just endured,costs the nation millions each year. Days off from work, loss of production, the suffering to young and old, even death in the already sick or feeble. Yet we dismiss this as nothing much. However, when I was working if I put 'Cold' on the sick note the manager would scowl. If however I wrote 'Chronic Rhinitis' they accepted this as a disease. That tells us how they got the job!


I have been suffering badly and getting no sympathy whatsoever! This cruel world owes me an apology!

Anti Christian Indoctrination

The rise in the attacks on Christianity is notable. While in days gone past Christians or church goers were seen as inoffensive and taken for granted, today they are opposed more and more.
Why?
Possibly the rise in the church numbers causes a reaction. Nominal churches lose members but the rise in numbers occurs where Jesus really is Lord and this always has a spiritual opposition.
Of course the change in behaviour seen in the UK in the last twenty years has led to a growth in what some call 'disrespect!' In short, consideration for others, not always a strong point, has reached a very low point. There are many who do show respect and thought for those around them, but in general the attitudes of selfishness and confrontation shoved down our throat by soaps like 'Eastenders' has been a major factor in producing a more thoughtless world.
The secular liberal attitude of the media, staffed with the, ever proud of themselves, middle classes, has encouraged a derogatory attitude to Christianity. One main reason being the loose sexual attitudes in which they wish to indulge and excuse. Another type of media is less concerned with liberalism and concerned only with sales. With twenty four hour news on Radio and TV the 'newspapers' are no longer the place to gain information in today's world. Instead 'the tabloids' encourage either 'love' or 'hate' in their readers. 'B' celebrities love lives, their doings and all around them are built up as important revelations. While in fact they are the detritus of broken lives. Readers are told to love them or hate them, but consideration of them is never ever allowed. These are people, but to the 'tabloids' that means nothing. No respect, just use them and take the cash!

These attitudes destroy decent society, and one thing that encourages this is Christianity. But in doing so it steps on the popular wrongs and suffers abuse form the 'democratic' liberals. The murder of the unborn child ad sexual deviation which destroys is opposed. As indeed are many other wrongs, but folks care nothing for that. What matters is their emotional response to those who indicate the destruction loose sexual, attitudes produce. One should know that this will always bring opposition, based on selfishness, nothing else.

This will increase in days to come, let us be aware of that.

EYES

What is it with television and eyes these days?
Every programme, each and every football match, every other advert shows us a needless, and cringe making, close up of someones eyes, or eye, as it usually is. Why? Are we supposed to see deep into their soul? is this yet another trendy shot the director or cameraman has read about in an art magazine? What does it tell us about Alex Ferguson that we do not already know when we see a close up of his eyes? One shot concentrated on just one eye, what do we learn? Nothing!
It's a football match and he is a loud aggressive manager. his eyes tell us only that those covering the game have absolutely no idea what they are doing. Instead of watching the football they are playing at art photographers. And that is of course something we all know makes no sense whatsoever!
It is perfectly possible to gain an understanding of an individual by looking at a normal head and shoulders portrait of them. Not only possible, but better! Since the dawn of TV the full face shown on screen has produced countless complaints. Why then do TV folk feel the desperate need to continue with it?
Show us the people, let them keep their eyes, and their dignity!

Blackberry Juniper

Another Saturday came. I woke early. I had no choice, I was no longer dreaming so I must have been awake. I rose from the bed with all the grace of an arthritic camel. Bleary eyed I looked at the mess that comprised the living quarters. Dust rose from the carpet as I walked about, wondering what I was doing. Blackberry Juniper I suddenly thought! My mind raced, I gave concentrated thought, but I could not figure out a way to get her to come and do my housework.
Suddenly it occurred to me, it was Saturday! She might be here with her man! She might choose today to pop round! I looked at the mess, oh dear I thought. I looked at the red eyed creature in the mirror and noticed three weeks growth strewn with last nights supper. Oh Dear!

By nine o' clock, the floor was hoovered, the windows had been opened (so that's what fresh air smells like) dust had been eradicated, tidiness prevailed! A bath had been taken and a rusty blade used on the face.

I waited.

And waited.

The phone rang! Jings, crivvens that is her, she is coming today after all!
The phone went down. I do NOT want to take part in that survey!
I return to waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.

I knew the way to make her come or not. I searched the web for a football match.
If she was coming, now would be the time!
She didn't!

Anyway, watching the football I forgot all about her !

Maths

Dear Reader,

Note I don't say readers! As part of my effort to impress the job shop that I am in fact making an effort to seek work, I undertook a course with 'Learn Direct.' This seemed at first a really good idea. So I chose the English and Maths free options. The staff there are friendly, helpful and capable. Quickly they understood that I was an idiot (please refer to previous posts) and handled me accordingly. The English was dealt with quickly. I was tested and found to be good enough to do the test for a low type of 'O' level immediately. This was done and I await the results. What bothered me was the ease of the exam. I will not get 100% but I do feel the test was all too easy.
That tells us something about the number of successful passes among the kids today!

However, there is a great problem. I failed miserably the maths! So before I do the 'O' level I have to work towards this. Here lie dragons! You see, it is forty years since I have done sums. Forty years! occasionally work has meant some element of counting, and habit makes perfect, and while working such maths became easy to deal with. But apart from counting my change and keeping track of my budget I do no maths whatsoever , and have not done so for years!

Guess what? I am struggling!
I never understood the question,'If a train takes 2 hours to get from A to B what speed was it doing?' Who cares? But when I am asked to not only discover the speed, but translate this into kilometres I find my brain hurting! I have spent a week either struggling to understand the question or failing to read the thing and ending up miles away from the answer required.
Just like school days eh?

I found myself desperately looking for a job at one point just to escape the 'Millilitres into pints' question! Oh my head......

I am Actually Bored!

How unusual!
Normally my mind is full of stuff. Tonight it is empty. There are those who may indicate this is the usual state of my mind, but I disagree. I find the books uninspiring to night. I did not even try and find a football match to watch. Earlier I was searching around for something practical to do, and it is now heading for nine o' clock at night. I wonder why this is?

Could it be the discussion re God on the football messageboard? Am I thinking less about myself because of this? Has the difficulty with thinking just worn me out? This Learn Direct course is not as easy as I thought!
The idea of doing sums I last heard about forty years ago intrigued me. Pity I forgot I was too lazy to listen then! It sure is hurting my head now. Maybe I am just getting healthier? I made a slight effort at exercise today, wandered round the town, and ate better. Has this helped?

No idea. That is that then eh!

How to be an Idiot! no: 48

In this lesson we will ignore the broken washing machine, (broken when the handle came away in my hand). We will also ignore the P.C. that is lying at the side gathering dust, (this comes about because of its inability to switch off). The failure to install the VCR in such a way as to make it actually record, we will come to later,perhaps.
Instead today we will discuss remote controls.

The problem set before us remains a simple one.
One presses the mute button, to stop those infernal adverts getting up the nose, and finds that the sound goes away, but does NOT return when said button is pressed again.
The answer? One realises that this is an emergency. This means fiddling with the button, pressing hard, soft and bashing it. Pushing it to the left, right, up and down, always using a different type of invective, in the vain hope that on hearing what you say it will work once again.
It does not.
You switch TV off, you switch it on, you leave it overnight to right itself.
It does not.
Eventually you decide a new one is required.
Now, a proper idiot would walk around the shops for several days enquiring after said remotes. But as only one shop (Tesco) actually sold that particular TV it is unlikely the proper idiot will find one. Students ought to practice this technique often! I have!
However, on this occasion, we search diligently through piles of old receipts for the one issued when the telly was obtained. Hooray, we find it, hours later. Contact is made with Tesco where we speak to a bored dullard who insists on following the correct, and slow, procedure. He also insists on asking us to do what we have already done several times! He must be used to dealing with idiots.
Eventually, and I mean eventually, we are passed on to the suppliers and we speak to a retired world war two sergeant who considers all callers as either beneath him or so inadequate he has to treat them all as, idiots. He too follows the procedure, and informs us with as much concern for our welfare that Al-Queda show to passing Christian missionaries that this new remote control will cost £27.10. Sternly he asks if it is required, takes the details and sods of to drink tea while standing straight, chest out arms back and saluting the picture of the queen (circa 1953) on the wall.

Relaxation follows. Job complete, help is on the way!

The real idiot, if he wants to make a career of his idiocy, will now follow the following pattern
Ten minutes after completion of the stressful call a right idiot will note that the details given for the new remote concerns the remote control used by the television. However, the remote control that is giving trouble belongs to the 'Freeview Box!'
The phrase used in front of children is AAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH!
Anything else may not be suitable. However, if idiots are unsure of the words not to be used they can learn such words from their children!

The complete idiot then considers saying nothing, buying a new set top box, and running away to Russia.
However, while praying hard that he may not speak to the same folk once again, he calls back. This while kneeling on the floor and hiding behind the desk, so they don't see him, and informs the nice wee lassie that answers that he is an idiot in training. She accepts this without contradiction and while he congratulates himself that he has twice worked his way through the 'Choose number one' choices, without ending up talking to sales, and therefore avoided ending up buying something he neither needs nor can afford! To get hm off her hands nice lass one passes the idiot over to nice young lass two. She listens attentively to his story of woe, decides she has a right one here, and fixes things in that way women do when putting their husbands right without smirking. Without once condescendingto call him a buffoon she treats the caller like a buffoon and puts everything to rights. Not only does she promise the goods will arrive within days, the cost will be almost halved to £12.24! Good girl! The idiot then considers asking if she will marry him, but call ends while he ponders the question.

Job complete at last! What, says the professional idiot could possibly cause stress now?

Saturday, new remote arrives. At this point the knowing idiot will whoop with delight, rush to install the batteries in the remote and try it out. Joy will fill the heart, smiles will light up his face and while the idiot prances around he will discover that the sound STILL has not returned!
Once again the phrase is AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!! However, on this occasion accompanied by a real deep felt depression! The idiot will struggle to the set top box, he will then do what he ought to have done several silent days ago, and fiddle with the wires at the back. He will then notice the sound has returned, and he has wasted time, anxiety (that could have been used elsewhere) and £12.24 plus phone charges!

Today's lesson is complete. Now, read, learn digest and go out there and forget all you have learned.
That will make you a complete professional idiot in no time whatsoever!

Lesson ends.