30th June 2005
On a lighter note
Good news for Man Utd fans everywhere.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:10 BST
Show me a cat
Some days, and I'm sure you've all had them, you get up wishing you had a cat; just so you could kick the bastard. Today is one of those days.
Today was meant to be the very last day possible a payment made its way into my bank account. It wasn't much, but it was mine. I was eagerly looking forward to paying Die Ubermeister the £80 that I owe her, nipping into Wigan for some essentials and breathing easy once more, no matter how short-lived. Long story short; it's not there. The first web site I hit after breakfast was the bank...balance of £0.00. Marvelous. A call to the bank confirmed the online balance. Feck.
The British banking system is utter shite. In America, you deposit a cheque/check and it clears overnight. How long does it take here? 3-5 days. The payment I was meant to have received was sent electronically on Monday. Where the feck does the transferred money disappear to en-route to my account? Into some bloody money market somewhere. You can bet your bottom dollar/quid.
I tell you, if I end up imprisoned here for the weekend, someone will pay dearly.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:03 BST
29th June 2005
Vanity, thy name is Kenny
Style guru Yates reporting here, on the crapness of jeans in England.
When I arrived back from the US, I realised that I had only packed two pairs of jeans -- one a pair of very worn and comfortable CK jeans, and another very uncomfortable pair that I had bought in a fit of madness while in Wales a few years ago. Translated, that means that I had one pair of jeans that I was comfortable in even though I look like I'm en-route to Woodstock in them. My maternal parental unit objects to my beloved CK jeans, citing them as "rags" so has been picking up random jeans from all over the God damned country in an effort to get me to wear something other than my comfort jeans.
Now without giving too much away, I wear 32"/32" jeans. Always have done. And I have put weight on since I came back from the US, albeit of a muscular nature rather than the all too common lard.
The problem that I have with the jeans purchased here is that I defy anyone who is not a pencil to get into them. The waist is right, the length is right but once you're in them, your thighs are threatening to rip the seems, you daren't put your wallet in your pocket for fear of rupturing something in the mummy and daddy department and God, cigarettes or cell phones are a complete no-no, rendering you crippled if you sit down.
Who can wear these things? I'm about as slim as they come. The only things I have are muscles on my legs from all the God damned walking.
My CKs are a lovely relaxed fit. Why oh why oh why can we not get something similar here? I like some play in my jeans so I can stuff phones and cigs and wallets and keys and all sorts into the pockets and not scream should I bend over or sit down.
Please if anyone knows where you can get a decent cut pair of jeans in the Northwest, please let me know. And I don't want any of those faded shite things or those with pre-rippage built-in. I thank you.
BTW -- I'm working on the Aardvark reunion song. I say working, what I really mean is that I'm thinking about it twixt Sudoku, cryptic crosswords and cigarettes. I may post it later...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:19 BST
28th June 2005
Thorner and Wyke at Stoned-henge
This was our party in the Park album cover...
Good days indeed.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 17:10 BST
The things I do...
There you go...
Satisfied?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 17:01 BST
History repeating
After yesterday's full disclosure of the artists formerly know as Aardvark and the Swinging 'Nads, I fear I should attribute some blame to the respective parties. If I remember rightly, the line-up on that tape is as follows:
Yours truly - vocals - I might have played a keyboard too?
The Waart - keyboards, backing vocals
Kenny Arpeggio Campbell - keyboards
The Moonraker - drum machine named after the hostile hostelry next door
Our live gig was much better but I believe that the only copy of that in existence (if it even is in existence) is somewhere near Newcastle. During that set -- look at me talking all pop-musaq chic -- we did Ricky's Hand by Fad Gadget, Leave In Silence by Depeche Mode and Hide and Seek by Howard Jones. That particular line-up was as follows:
Yours truly - vocals, keyboards, power-drill (yes, there was a drill)
The Waart - vocals, backing vocals, keyboards
Kenny Arpeggio Campbell - keyboards, stage presence
Paul Mick Lyon - bass guitar, plonky chromatic scales
John Sticks Gilman - drums
A later incarnation that flopped horribly had the following line-up:
Yours truly - truly awful vocals
L Jones - guitar
John Mason - bass (I think)
John Sticks Gilman - drums
Karen Waartess Henderson - vocals
Now given that I am still in touch, after all these years, with Paulo, Waart, Karen and could conceivably contact Sticks Gilman quite easily, I have this sordid little plan that we might want to perform our own Live 8 as we did Live Aid. Of course, I would find a token ethnic contributor so we don't get the same slating that Sir Bob got. My only issue really is that my Juno 106 is currently sat in a storage facility in Illinois, totally unloved.
So what's about it gang? Shall we put the band back together and do a concert on The Green in downtown Haxby? We could be all rock and roll and scare the ducks away from the pond. And the extension cables would probably reach from Waart's house.
These days of course, we'd have to do Paul Simon and Oasis covers. Oh, and Depeche Mode and Fad Gadget.
Come on. Who's up for it? It'll give KMZA a laugh seeing her mum and the Waart make complete tossers of themselves again? And we could raise some dosh.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 14:29 BST
27th June 2005
Competition time
I was on MSN chatting with my good friend Dr Conners this afternoon. We were talking about a potential meet-up in the near future when Conners questioned whether I would recognise him due to the fact that he has glossy locks nowadays rather than the crew cut of yore. To prove this, he pointed me in the direction of these two photos...
Now these are begging for an album title. My suggestion for the first is "Play me baby one more time" and the second is "It only takes a minute" but I'm sure readers of your wit, perspective and caliber can come up with something better. Have at it.
Oh, and before you ladies start lusting, that last shot is of Conners with his girlfriend so don't.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 16:04 BST
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 13:37 BST
Ancient treasure unearthed
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Once upon a time in Wigan, there were a bunch of talentless gits who decided that they would form a band. They performed their first gig on June 18th 1985 in order to raise money for the Band-Aid cause. Much to their surprise, people actually liked them.
Fueled by muchos ego-stroking, beer and Benson and Hedges, they disappeared into a studio one afternoon to record a cover version of Depeche Mode's photographic. The tape was lost for twenty years but was recently rediscovered in a plastic bag in a garage in York. It has been digitally recovered to its near former glory by someone with a PhD (ie no common sense) so it might be crap -- I have not had the heart to play it.
I am, however, stupid enough to let you bastards listen to it.
Yes, I am the very dodgy vocalist with the extreme accent. My accent has not faded. I still sound like a cross between George Formby and Ian Brown.
All that remains is this:
Aardvark and the Swinging Testicles -- Photographic
Please be kind when you comment - my ego has been shattered since then and I no longer regard AATST as being the best, most nouveau band ever.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:34 BST
26th June 2005
Icon gone
As much I liked to deride him, the death of Richard Whiteley has gutted me a little. A bit of my childhood has just died. It's somewhat like having your favorite comfort food denied. Bless him.
I hope they let Carol take over. It would be the right thing to do.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 22:26 BST
Ooh, YC now gives advice to blokes too
Oi, blokes. If were you were to come in to my pub with curly hair, a beard and all blinged up, I would have to shout "No. This is th'Oddies. For your own safety, get the hell out of here."
Seriously though, if I questioned your sexual orientation (and I couldn't care less if you have a predilection for gerbils), you can bet there were ten others who were questioning it more than I was. And don't try to hide it behind a pint of Tetleys; just get the alcopop - even straight guys apparently drink that putrid shite. I know this because my 6'5", 250 pound cousin arrived back from Glasgow last night for his sister's birthday and he was drinking them. And I wasn't about to ask him.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 22:05 BST
Name change?
I'm thinking of changing the name of this blog to Missy or Chavette or something really clever like Chav-rolet. Readers who do not have a memory problem will recall that I dished out some venomous advice on the judicious non-use of flip-flops. I have more.
Before I start, I have to watch my tone. Last night while supping a very cheap quid twenty-five a pint bitter named Grays, my sister-in-law started talking about how they have now started making flip-flop specific plasters (band-aids for you Yanks). I fear I may have raised an eyebrow. She then started defending wearers of flip-flops. I may have raised a second eyebrow. She then smiled and awaited my response. Had I a third eyebrow, I would have raised it. Yes, indeed, she had read my rant. So Clare, before I start, this is not directed at you; your perfume was lovely.
Women of the world, choose your perfumes wisely. During the last week or so, I have had the misfortune of having my nostrils assaulted on a daily basis by various females smelling like they have bathed in water-melon flavored bubble gum. Smelling of any form of strong fruit, sweets, bubble gum or...
God damn. The phone just went. I answered it as Die Ubermeister is next door, presumably annexing the place. All I got was a load of babble in German. I think I am right in assuming that it was her sister. It was an interesting five minutes in that I can only pick out one word in ten when people speak German, however the caller speaks Austrian German which means I can pick out one word in five hundred. She understands no English at all. I muttered something about next door, zehn minuten, invading Poland was a bad idea and then hung up with a fluent "See ya." I just hope zehn was genug...I couldn't remember the word for thirty. I do now, duh, it's that thinking on my feet thing that I have trouble with.
Anyway, back to the point. Smelling of sickly perfume will put blokes off quicker than producing an engagement ring or a pregnancy test kit. You may think you are modestly and suitably scented. We think you ming like the Ming Dynasty. Do not do it. Ever. No exceptions. Men like things like white musk and proper perfumes not that Body Shop crap that smells like something from Wonker's. And if you really want to catch that special one, try smelling of beer. Nothing gets a male pulse racing like a good pint.
Finally, before you start, women give men tips all the time and I get bored with it. We're blokes, we do what we like anyway. All I am doing here is making the road a two-way street; begone one-way traffic.
I'm off to the Oddfellows for a pint now. Be good and if you're lucky I'll have some tales when I return.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 20:12 BST
25th June 2005
Jesus H, you turn your back for ten years...
Well, I'll be damned. I was trying to organise a bit of a meet-up in Leeds (with ex co-workers) should I get a second interview, so I sent out an email requesting contact details for a few people.
Bugger me, if Ali-Bongo went and offed to Australia a couple of years ago without telling me. Not so much as "See ya Bruce." At one stage I know she used to read this however they probably censor the internet in Australia (well it is kinda near China) so that would explain why she's not here and commenting. But I am going to put her name in this so that when she googles herself, she'll get in touch and let me know where and how she is.
Alison Fanthorpe (or whatever you call yourself nowadays - probably not Ali-Bongo) - get in touch.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:56 BST
Me-me books
Just as I was about to tuck into some cod, mow the lawn and then get weaving in preparation for tonight's soiree, I hop over to Keith's and goddammit if he hasn't gone and exacted some vile retribution on me by hitting me with a book meme. Here goes...
* Total number of books owned, ever: I'm with Keith on this one; absolutely no idea. We had boxes and boxes of the things in Minneapolis. Admittedly a lot of those were Natzoid's but in my defense, I left a lot here when I moved to the US.
* Last book I bought: Junky by William S Burroughs. I haven't read it since 1997 and given that I'm on a quest to relive my halcion days of happiness, I've been re-reading books that I was recommended by Natzoid. When I first read it, it was an eye-opener. I have my own addictions (the most obvious being my beloved cigarettes) but I had no idea of the desperation involved. In retrospect I should have known.
* Last book I read: Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant by Anne Tyler. I confess I have only just started reading this. I struck up a conversation with a most unlikely looking chap in the local pub one evening. After half an hour's discussion, we traded; Tyler's book for Burrough's. Again my romanticizing of America lead to the date with this one.
* Five books that mean a lot to me: Eek. I suppose I should put a caveat on this...my O level English literature exam put me off reading for years so I only realised I enjoyed reading at about the age of 21. That said, I lapsed again when work took over. I'm still not back up to the volume I used to read but I'm working on it.
1. Wuthering Heights by Emile Bronte. I loved this book from the moment I picked it up. Rarely can such deep passions be conveyed with such success. You don't so much read it as live it. If books were religion, this would be mine. Or maybe I'm just in touch with my feminine side...
2. The Long Dark Teatime Of The Soul by Douglas Adams. By far Adams' best work. THHGTTG was excellent but his Dirk Gently novels were absolute genius. No-one will ever write anything so utterly hilarious. Dirk is all your best and worst fears of how people perceive you in real life. I think I empathized a little too much with him.
3. On The Road by Jack Kerouac. Another one that Natzoid introduced me to. At the time, it was the beginning of my love affair with the US. It signalled the start of a big adventure. I'm not sure whether I was intrigued by Kerouac as a person or fascinated with the hedonistic lifestyle. Either way, I wanted to live it. Now it's significance has changed. It represents the America that I wanted to live in; I was too late in getting there by about 60 years. It reminds me that the wheels of capitalism have turned too quickly there. I still wistfully look over my shoulder to see if Kerouac's America is there somewhere. If it is, that's where I want to move back to.
4. Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M Pirsig. I know, it's a tad cliched. I don't value it for its philosophical content. It's another road trip across America; that's what gets me. It's bars and boats and bikes. It's diners and discovery. The follow-up book Lila - An Enquiry Into Morals is lesser known but equally compelling.
5. Wuthering Heights According To Spike Milligan by Spike Milligan. If anyone can parody, Spike can. Sorry, could. Heathcliff (who is sensationally revealed as being Pakistani -- hence the dark complexion) disappearing to make his fortune running a corner shop in Bradford, before coming back to reap revenge, was inspired.
Phew. And I'm spent. All that remains is for me to nominate five schmucks kindly souls to suffer as badly as I have just done:
April
Tina
Trillion
The Missus (if she has time)
Herge (even though we all know he won't do it)
Rita, Luminary, Pam and MMZA have all escaped this time. They all owe me.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 13:30 BST
Social club red
Tonight I'm heading to my cousin's eighteenth birthday do. I nearly wrote youngest cousin but then I remembered a couple of other cousins who are younger than she. The do will bring me face to face with family that I haven't seen since I got back to Blighty. Most of them I haven't seen since my brother's wedding back in September 2003, just a few days before the big R. I have mixed feelings about it.
When my cousin R was born, my then girfriend (and subsequently wife, then ex-wife) commented that she looked like a frog in front of my aunt. Wrong thing to say. It's no coincidence that the aunt in question was not too displeased when wife became ex-wife.
Anyway, I'll be down the village club in Atherton tonight amongst a bunch of teenagers, probably feeling very uncomfortable; I'll be piggy in the middle. Too old to hang with the youngsters and too young to talk about prosthetic limbs, pensions and phantom diseases with the older generation. At least my brother will be present.
I'm probably not back until Monday so I hope your Sunday roast isn't too dry and that your Shiraz isn't too sweet.
PS - Just found the one Barenaked Ladies CD that I managed to bring back. A resultant lump in my throat might make conversation a little easier with older set later tonight.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 11:00 BST
I weary
Oh this morning is so hectic, I've barely had time to smoke.
The debate over on the Ashton board rages on. When I say debate, I mean mud-slinging.
I quote our prized moonbat, Franzen of the CAP (who henceforth will be know as the Conspiratorial Apathy Project):
First a response to me:
If I were to succeed in getting you off your backside to campaign for or against anything at all instesd of name calling, dishing out abuse, sniping and sneering from the comfort of your armchair, that would be a major accomplishment indeed.
I won't hold my breath.
Fair go, I did call him odious, obnoxious and a whole bunch of other Os. However, one local person posted the following:
I refer you to many previous postings about Ashton: concerning Aldi, traffic, local elections, bus shelters, vandalism amongst other things.
I also refer you to many of your previous postings which include much whinging and whining about how the Labour Party is out to get you, and little talk about Ashton.
I also refer you to the fact that your postings on this forum are a matter of public record and will speak for themselves when you come to campaign for your re-election.
And got the following response:
I am so accustomed to threats by New Labour hacks and their cronies that I have become immune.
Coming from someone who can't even engage in a basic political debate on this New Labour contolled website your threat to attack me in the future hardly fills me with fear and trepidation.
The analogy of being savaged by a toothless New Labour poodle springs to mind.
In the meantime stick what you know - whingeing and whining from the comfort of you own armchair.
This came from an elected official. Now I don't usually make a habit of harrying random politicians into an early electoral grave, but this guy is something special. I think I may write to the press and point them at some of the moonbat's ranting. The poor dear really does think that New Labour is out to get him.
What is his problem with armchairs?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 09:48 BST
24th June 2005
Sadness prevails
The Wart and I are fond of our cryptic crosswords. I downloaded some software to make one - the demo version only allows you a 9x9 matrix, but I have had a go anyway. I was just going to send it to Dr W, but thought I might share it with you.
If you are sad enough to (a) do it and (b) finish it correctly, email me the salutation you are greeted with and I may believe you. Otherwise I will assume you have the IQ of a lettuce.
'Tis all.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 19:22 BST
My day out in Leeds
I'm sorry to have to say this. I've long suspected it, but yesterday confirmed it. Leeds is so far ahead of Manchester on every score that we might as well just nuke Manchester.
I loved living in Leeds for the years that I did. Maybe it was the job that I was doing at the time, maybe it was the people.
Yesterday, I sweltered my way from Warrington Central station to Leeds on a Trans-Pennine train sans AC (I knew it.) Bedecked in wool mix suit, shirt and tie, I was eternally grateful to the great folks at Lynx and their diligence when it came to creating God's own anti-perspirant, Africa. I stumbled out of Leeds station simultaneously gnawing on a Benson and Hedges cigarette and chewing those cinnamon breath mint thingies.
They've changed Leeds center quite a lot. For starters, the railway station, much like Picadilly, is now a frickin' airport. As you drive out of the station, the road system has been rearranged to make it almost impossible to get towards the Royal Armouries without going via bloody Harrogate. What I later discovered to be a ten minute walk through The Calls ended up costing me a 5 spot in a taxi.
Arriving exactly five minutes early, my sidies and I were then interviewed for an hour and a half. For the first time in my life, I wasn't the least bit nervous at all. I had made my mind up on the way in to treat the process like I used to treat my award winning seminars on computer vision, metrology and motorcycle maintenance. OK, I didn't win any awards that I remember and I know nothing about motorcycles. Still, two out of four isn't too bad. I've no idea whether I'll get a second interview. I do however remember thinking and then saying "remind me never to use that last sentence in an interview again." I can't remember what the sentence was but it wasn't anything too terrible.
Being my own worst critic, I came out a little dazed by it all. One thing that really frustrates me is my polar switching. I'm either too quiet and very nervous or Mr Frickin' Energy who won't shut up. I'm sure it's not natural to be so disgusted with yourself.
Anyway, I walked back to the station and took in the life around Leeds. It's buzzing with energy. It's light, it's airy, it has atmosphere, everything that Manchester doesn't. Now at the point where I was dripping, I again thanked the good folks at Lynx for the fact that I still smelled OK, downed a pint of Kronenbourg 1664 and jumped on the train home.
The rest, as they say, is all history and flip-flops.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 10:36 BST
23rd June 2005
Attention women of Northern England (and the rest of the world)
No matter what you may think fellow female planet dwellers, flip-flops make you look like a slapper. Period.
I walked behind a group of maybe six females tonight, ranging in age from probably early twenties to late fifties. It was up to platform 14 at Picadilly if you must know. All of them were sporting flip-flops. Shoot me now. It was the most hideous sight I have ever had the displeasure to experience this side of Widnes.
Now I'm very pleased that you are so confident in your walking appendages that you are willing to display them to the world. Oh yes I am. Painted, varnished, pedicured, whatever. They are vile. Cover them up.
Flip-flops mean the heel of the foot is lower than it normally would be and therefore your calves sag. Not a nice look. Women who normally have a fine leg are reduced to looking like Nora Batty once they don the flop. It's like the muscles at the backs of your legs slide down a few feet. Hideous.
And I'm not going to let off sandal wearers either. Unless they're a God-damned sicko, no-one on this planet is interested in looking at your feet. Seriously.
I spent an hour and a half on a train watching footwear after I'd spotted the six Floppies. I don't think I ever been so publically pre-disposed to happy-slap the populus. Fucking no. Under no circumstances. Ever.
Do the world a favor; when you get up tomorrow morning and see the sun shining, opt for those sensible shoes. Anything that covers the heel and toes. You can exhibit your beautifully smooth ankles and the silky tops of your feet but for God's sake, leave the rest covered. It's no bloody wonder I have always fallen for women who are happy to wear a boot.
Jesus. I could carry on for hours, but you get the message.
I'm sorry. It's been a long hard day and I then I had to put up with the tension of watching Murphy's Law without Claudia Harrison whose feet, I am told, are stunning.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 22:41 BST
No AC please, we're British
I'm hot and bothered. I have had to do battle with an iron in the heat this morning. And I've snapped. Let me be clear, I love hot weather. I could live with temperatures like this every day for the rest of my life. It would matter not a jot if I never saw snow again. But when you have to be somewhere on time and looking presentable, a hot England is not the place to do it.
You would think that air conditioning was invented in the late nineties given the British adoption of it. Only recently have regular cars come with AC. Only recently have trains caught on to the idea. My office in Leeds in the mid-nineties didn't have AC; a room with 15 people, 30+ PCs, a couple of Suns and a VMS box thrown in for good measure in 30 degree heat is not where you want to be when it's hot.
I have "a 15 minute walk" from Leeds center later this afternoon. Given the temperature, I'll be utterly drenched in five, never mind fifteen, minutes. Hell, I just stood outside having a smoke and the action of lifting my cigarette caused overheating. I feel the need for an air-conditioned taxi to whisk me from the station to South Leeds. I don't mind returning home looking like the chap who put all his money on black and it came up red, but I must arrive looking whatever the opposite of dishevelled is (shevelled? It's derived from God damned French so who knows what the opposite is - Dominique De Villepain?).
As far as the sidies go, I have decided to ignore the majority. If I want to arrive looking like a balding Richard Ashcroft, I will. Leeds and Yorkshire need some fashion pointers so who am I to deny them?
You may now go about your business. I will go about mine. Let's not mix the two.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:30 BST
22nd June 2005
Immediate assistance required
I need to don a suit tomorrow and look kind of presentable. My ironing technique is second to none on the planet so I don't need your miserable advice on steam and starch (and don't tell me startch is a no-no -- you'll show yourselves up).
My issue is with the old sideburns. How do you control the feckers? In the time when I toyed with a beard, I discovered that they are not as easy to maintain as I had hoped (I wanted something that was less hassle than shaving everyday, and they are not -- and they itch like shite). Now I have these sprawling sidies going on (think James Nesbitt on crack) -- how do you maintain such beasts?
Do I just get rid of them? Do I spend some moments with a pair of scissors and a mirror? Do I buy a strimming device?
Two questions:
(a) Guys, how do you control the beasts?
(b) Gals, should I just be shaving the feckers off or what?
Thanking you. Time is of the essence.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 23:29 BST
Society slides further
You wouldn't know it from this particular spot in Cyberspace, but I am quite a stickler for grammar, which is why this report discussing the potential demise of possessive apostrophes drove me into my first rage of the day. Honest to God, have we no standards left in the world?
I refuse to send text messages in whatever bastardized English most people have descended to. I expect emails to read like letters and to observe conventional grammatical rules. I despise three letter acronyms although I appreciate the need for them. Dropping the possessive apostrophe would send me into a tail-spin. I would never understand a sentence containing a possessive or plural again.
Just think about how non-native English speakers would look at the problem. How would you explain to them a context sensitive possessive? It would be like trying to explain an associative array to a 5 year old. Impossible.
I've seen the studies that say you can establish meaning from grossly misspelled words and sentences as long as the consonants are present. I don't disagree on a basic communication level, however once you try to address a complicated topic, the whole thing falls on its face.
People miscommunicate with the rules that most of us try to adhere to in language. Obfuscating meaning by dumbing down those rules to a virtually context sensitive interpretation of language will only serve to make miscommunication easier.
It's no wonder this country is going to the dogs. Jesus H.
Oh, BTW, apostrophes would still be OK in contracted words. Utter bollocks.
Update: I kill me. Hyprocrites are us. BTW!
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 12:29 BST
21st June 2005
Local politics and Nazi Germany
I don't know why I got involved, but I have been having a bit of a conflab over on the Ashton board. Anyone who wants to bait a politically rabid loon should go over there. This man is an elected official who obviously suffers from paranoia and a skin thicker than Tom Cruise.
Go ahead. Go read it. Can you believe that this goon is an official?
Next up on today's list of gripes...never, EVER, let a former-Nazi youth supervise when you're cutting shit down. I had my power hedgers out this afternoon and knew what I needed to do. Only we don't want to harm any of the new nice little flowers do we? The fecking thing was rampant and needed to be taught a lesson in control, by some could hard steel. But oh no, I end up with the bloody pruning shears selectively chopping individual stems. Still, the privets and hawthorns copped for it.
I am steaming mad. If you want me to do a job, step back and let me do it. My way.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 17:31 BST
20th June 2005
Where has he been?
Well, in an unprecedented silence, I have been busy. On Saturday, I hauled out the strimmer and went all kinds of crazy with it. I spared nothing. If it encroached upon a border or vice versa, it was toast. I have an appointment with a power-shearer type article and some bushes shortly although it may be rearranged for tomorrow due to apathy.
Yesterday, I shamelessly sat in front of the squawk box watching England beat the Aussies in the first one-day match. It was interrupted only to move some paving slabs from B to C before returning to A and by a quick trip to the local boozer to avoid the unpleasantness of bumping into my ex-wife.
Now, the cricket. Where do I start? I honestly think, based on yesterday's not quite confidence inspiring performance, we might have a shot at the Ashes this year. Can it be? For those ignorant of such things, regaining the Ashes is right up there with a world cup win in my world. Kevin Pieterson knocked an incredible 91 not out off 65 balls. His average for one-days is now 162. Incredible. He batted with an authority that you rarely see in an English batsman (OK, I know he's South African, but he qualifies as English under whatever rules.) The press this morning were comparing him to Viv Richards or Ian Beefy Botham, and it was easy to see why. His affinity for leg side stroke play is very Viv-esque and he can drive a ball over the bowler like only Beefy did. It was literally breath-taking to see him tear apart one of the best attacks in the world. He dispatched some excellent balls with contempt, smashing them 10 or 20 rows back into the crowd.
Harmison bowled like the pro that he is. His line, length and cunning were superb. No-one said this in the papers, but I haven't seen anyone bowl that consistently since Michael Holding was at his peak. Indeed even Holding himself, who was commentating on Sky, was taken aback by the quality of his deliveries.
Overall, an amazing game. If you're not a cricket fan, you missed out on some stunning entertainment. Go read Vaughan's comments on the England performance.
Bring on the test matches!
Anyway, the only other thing that I have done is so secret that I would have to record the IPs of those that read it and then systematically assassinate the guilty. And I wouldn't want to do that to you. When the time is right, I might pull back the curtain a little more.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 16:00 BST
18th June 2005
Happy Bidet
The Wart, sorry Dr Wart, is 37 today.
He's away at the moment so I know I can say the following without fear of him being acidic too quickly.
You're another year older than me. Yet again. You old git.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:57 BST
Arrogance proven
It started over an innocent lunch time conversation. Saturday is market day in Ashton, and just like generations before them, the pensioners all virtually sprint down there every week to get some fresh fish. Colie was today's chosen lunch. With proper fried chips.
"Aldi's opening on Thursday."
"Marvelous - traffic will be even worse." says I, "Who was the bloody idiot who gave them planning permission to build there. That junction is already an accident waiting to happen. They should build these things out of crowded towns."
"No. It's very handy for us that go shopping there on the bus."
"Buses go beyond Ashton. You could still go there if they had built it a half-mile out of the center."
"That's just typical of you. You've obviously never been shopping. You can't see things from anyone else's point of view can you?"
"I'm thinking about it from everyone's point of view; drivers, pedestrians, shoppers."
"No you're not."
"You're right. I'm an arrogant arse-hole."
"You're not in America now."
Stunned silence as I try to understand what that is meant to mean.
"Anyway, the bus was late this morning. All of them were. The public transport system here is terrible."
I couldn't resist...
"Well they'll be later still once Aldi opens with all that extra traffic trying to get in and out of Princes Road."
Stunned silence.
Plate in the sink. Cigarette in the mouth. Fumes out of each ear.
I get the feeling that my family are very concerned about the fact that I do not engage in chatter. There's a very simple reason for me shutting the hell up; whatever it is you want to talk about, I am probably seething internally about it. Whether it's jobs, the DHSS, where they build grocery stores, where they put traffic lights, how they go about knocking things down etc etc.
And if anyone moans about the fact that the chemist has changed his supplier of a certain drug (presumably because the new lot is cheaper) and as a result the package is slightly bigger and doesn't quite fit in your drawer the way the old ones did, I shall scream and then probably murder a kitten.
"It's probably cheaper and so the chemist saves the NHS and himself a bit of cash."
"Well they shouldn't be allowed to do that."
"No. Of course not. How silly of me. I do forget that don't live in a market economy every now and again."
Yeah, I'm an a arrogant git. Only because 99.99% of the time, I'm bloody well right.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:02 BST
17th June 2005
Warning
If you're slightly lefty inclined, you might not want to read this. Go save a single parent black lesbian whale or something. I don't care...just disappear into your socialist utopia and thank Chirac you still have a subsidised pay check.
I walked down to the dole office today to sign on. I wasn't too bothered by the prospect even though they have yet to agree that I qualify for anything. I wondered in, full of self-loathing, watching the school kids laughing as I entered the jobcenter in Ashton. They probably weren't laughing; too young to understand. But the experience kicks you hard.
"Meeester Yets?"
"Aye - that's me."
"Aye neeeed yooo too feel in dis forum."
"Sorry?"
"Dis Forum. Yoo need to proov dat you am a British citizen."
"Excuse me? I filled in the HRT2 last week and provided my passport."
"Well, dey say dat dey have not seen it. Yoo must do it again."
"Very well, but I haven't brought my passport. I watched The Bill last night and the police are suspicious if you do carry it. The lady over there saw it last week."
"OK, feel in dis forum and I'll fax eet."
How's about fuck you?
As I was sat arguing with the lump of inefficiency in question, a thirty something pretty young woman approached the desk and threw whatever the little book is you have to take with you into a tray at the side of me. She was the next to sign on after me. She took a seat a few feet away with a poise that only those who know the procedure do. She was kicked. Every facet of her being oozed utter despair. We exchanged a kind of shamed nod of the head to each other, each seemingly acknowledging each others' plight.
The suit continued.
"How yoo finding the jab search?"
"Actually, it's quite frustrating."
"Goood. Ya lookin' localllleee or waaat?"
"Anywhere."
"Yoo taut about retrainin'?"
"Listen mate. Why don't I retrain to do what you're doing. It will take all of me learning your username and password."
"Wahahah - you're a live one."
"No I'm not. I'm actually dying inside here. Every ounce of self respect was checked at the door."
I signed my name and was told to ring the "Decision Maker" on Tuesday.
Now, how many things are wrong with the above? I lost count. I know I was a mouthy twat, but I get that way when my back is against a wall.
I walked back up Wigan Road in a turmoil of self-loathing, system hating, xenophobic rage.
I had five quid in my pocket and ten cigarettes. As a matter of course, I would pass the Oddfellows. I needed to blow at someone who would listen and not judge. The crowd at the Oddies are those people. In the unlikely event you are ever in the Oddies in Bryn, ask for Ste, Fred, Tracy, Peter, Dennis, Leslie or whoever. I went in and had a few pints. Ste lent me a tenner having listened and understood the frame of mind I was in. I supped a few and left.
I've promised Natzoid that I wouldn't discuss our position on the web but I can't help this. As I walked out of the Oddies, having staved back the tears of humiliation from having to sign on and having to borrow a tenner, all I wanted was for her to be here and hug me. At that moment in time, that was an invaluable currency and I would have given anything at all just for a kiss from her.
Hell, I know it's the wrong thing to do, but I'm heading into a bottle of red until tomorrow. You can tell me it's wrong, but until you've been this down, you can't even imagine. I have my limits and I've reached them.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 19:57 BST
Another great search term
yates+de+120+pies
I am not worthy of such an honour.
Is that better than "renting da mega yates"?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 15:08 BST
Chirac et les autres
I've just written an absolute tyrade on the subject of Jacques and the boys in Brussels. But I weary of the whole thing.
I will give one last comment on the subject:
How about, rather than a UK referendum on adopting the EU constitution (giggle - Ed), we have a referendum as to whether we pull out of the whole sorry mess?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 13:47 BST
Britain set for scorching weekend
It's true.
Forecasters are predicting the hottest weekend of the year so far, with temperatures expected to hit 32C (86F).
Firstly, yes, things like a spot of good weather do make the headlines here. But being British, we cannot take our good luck and make proverbial hay. No, we have to issue warnings citing statistics from the "heatwave of 2003" when "there were 2,000 deaths caused by the heat". We are a nation of wusses. It's a good job it was raining during the D-day landings or we'd all be speaking German.
In the more appealing (to me) parts of the US, 86F is called March.
Of course, being the skeptic that I am, I'll believe it when I see it. I'll be mowing today in the certainty that it will rain all weekend.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 09:39 BST
16th June 2005
Crap American accents continued
Last week I bemoaned our English thespians' inability to adopt an American accent. Jack commented that Hugh Laurie did a passable US accent. Well, I have House on now, and let me tell you, his American accent is shite. Even I manage a better one that that.
I'm not saying. I'm just saying.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 22:13 BST
Cameron to run for Tory party leadership
I just read that headline. I didn't click on it because it involves the Tory party and I don't need to read their drivel to put forward a few well constructed arguments that make their policies self-combust.
That said, I think getting Cameron Diaz to front the party is a bit of an inspired idea. Our old MD, Neil McCay would certainly vote for her.
Now, who should head up the Labour party? Suggestions please, or else I will nominate someone. And we all hate a dictatorship don't we?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 19:50 BST
Keep 'em coming
The good people in the Department of Nurturing the Public have really come through this time. Literally, from the back of a fag packet:
Benzene - ooh, The Lord Of The Rings.
Nitrosamines - no idea what they are but they sound like you also get them from tangerines so I'm OK with that.
Formaldehyde - isn't that what they use for embalming? So that's another £10 off the funeral bill (I'm nothing if selfless).
Hydrogen Cyanide - now if this were straight cyanide, I might be a tad concerned, but it's not; it's just hydrogen cyanide. We all need a bit more of that in our lives.
Still, the packet also tells me that my duty is paid, so I guess I feel good about that. Duty done/paid - same thing.
I've been collecting cigarette warnings since they started to vary them from the pro-forma warning of the eighties. I think this is my new fave.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 17:28 BST
Another yc scoop
Michael Moore, owner of the Tampa Bay Moonbats American football team and now owner of Manchester Utd soccer football team has completed his first transfer deal in an effort to futher improve the franchise of the Red Elfs.
Moore, who is widely regarded in business circles as "fairly savvy", has constructed a deal that has Gary Linneker shocked by its murkiness. He has done a transfer deal with CBS to retain the services of out-of-favor anchorman Dan Rather. The agreement will see Rather join the Scarlet Pimpernels in return for Wayne Rooney, Roy Keane and two quid fifty in cash. The cash part of the transaction will be structured by a loan based on a bet on Rather's strike record next season, a cash Roth-IRA performance table and will be directly related to the number of pies sold on December 23rd's game. It is payable on either June 14th 2019 or on Rather's death, whichever is sooner.
In related news, it is said that Michael Moore's brother, Malcom Glazer, has been appointed to the Board of Directors at Godmanchester Alltogether. His appointment has caused much consternation amongst Reds fans. Chairman of the activist group Shareholders Reunited, Simon "Bow-Bells" Cantona, said the installation of such a fat bastard "sent a bad message to the Street and to the players". He continued "Glazer was astounded when he arrived at Old Trafford to find that the top prongy bits of the post had been chopped off leaving just a rectangular frame, not the conventional H shape."
In fairness, there were gasps of surprise from the rest of the BOD when Glazer commented "That net is too small and should be a good few yards further back from where you have it. Have you never played the game before?"
Moore, who is famous for his movie-making moonbatism and conspiracy of black water towers and unmarked helicopters watching our every move for latent signs of homosexuality or random jihad, said of the Dan Rather deal "It's a solid financial transaction that aims to further boost the Manchesteder squad. Rooney put too many balls under the bar last year and Keane was playing too much for the field goal rather than the touchdown. They had to go. Bringing Dan into the side will unleash a new life in the dressing room. His years of experience at CBS will motivate the team like no-one else can."
He then added "erm, like, you know."
Wall Street reacted badly to the news. The outstanding one share of Manchester United that Moore does not own, which is held by one Sir A Ferguson, was said to be on a sale limit order for 3 quid and 2 pence. The best offer price was from one B Streisand who had a buy order at a quid fifty.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 11:08 BST
15th June 2005
First time I've laughed today
Via Nev, the ultimate in Chav control...
Chavdoms
Oops, it was actually Karen not Nev. My ADD kicked in and I read the word New as Nev. My bad.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 18:55 BST
New CV
SUMMARY:
Thick shit who'll do what he's told no matter how daft. Never had an original thought in his life.
EXPERIENCE:
-- Survived for 4.5 years in a corporate American environment - evidence of mindless compliance with whomever shouts loudest.
-- Considered career as a criminal but decided against due to more than a passing ignorance of how cars work. Aversion to communal showers.
-- So stupid he managed to fuck things up to the point where his wife and kids are in America and he's not.
-- Consistently vacuous. Managed to be turned down for a job filling freezers.
-- Never gets phased by continual disappointment. Never ever, wants to go out and blow the whole fucking place up. Never. Ever.
-- Never goes to bed crying about what a fucking train-wreck this is.
-- Not cosmopolitan. Once went on holiday to Blackpool but otherwise has been in the same miserable fucking armpit ever since. Hates foreigners, especially the French. Has recently considered joining the ultra-stupid elite in the UK in their total reprehension of the horrible US and their war-mongering ways but thought the argument was too complicated. Easier to just scream "nuke the bastards."
EDUCATION:
Attended a couple of lessons back in the early eighties. Failed nearly everything but managed to scrape a CSE grade 5 in English Language by completing the name on the exam paper.
INTERESTS:
Exploding frogs. Rugby League. Fosters lager. Chips.
REFERENCES:
All deceased due to my incompetence and lack of understanding.
CONTACT:
iyewsaol@thickmoonbats.aol.com
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:23 BST
14th June 2005
Blood pressure at dangerous levels
I'm at about breaking point. The usual TV shite has been worse than usual tonight and on top of the banality, I've had some bad news today.
First off, let me say that nothing is worse than being the guest in someone else's home and being subject to their TV watching regime. Repeat nothing. It's like root canals or giving birth; if you've never tried it,you have no idea how painful it is. I feel like Marvin the paranoid android. Here I am, brain the size of a planet (oh, OK, a small garden vegetable) and I'm faced with Holby City, Home and Away and Holyoaks. The three H's. Hell, horror and hypocrisy.
Anyway, my bad news...grumble, grumble. I'd filled in a technical application form which was a test of both technical ability and web religion. Apparently the people involved liked my answers a lot and called the agency to get my availability, salary requirements and a CV, with a view to interviewing me. However, the old spectre surfaced. Late this afternoon, after a follow-up phone call, I'm deemed over-qualified for the position.
Now one of two things is afoot here. Either they look at my CV and think that I'll bugger off as soon as something better comes along -- which is wrong as anyone who has seen my employment record will attest (with the exception of a contract position, I have served at least five years in each of my jobs.) Or they are of the school of thought that says never employ anyone who is as bright or brighter than you -- an attitude that I have never subscribed to.
Anyway, another bloody roller-coaster. At least I have more work from the University.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 21:01 BST
As promised...
More vitriol, pathos and derision.
I've taken a break from my in-depth dismantling of a particular market. The story of Microsoft censoring Chinese blogs caught my eye. I read it with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Amusement because it tells America's sordid little secret; there's no-one that cannot be bought. Morals don't come cheap, but they can be paid off. Annoyance because of the utter stupidity of trying to censor a nation of billions who have not only caught up with the West in terms of manufacturing, they have overtaken us. The knowledge economy, that we so mightily wield around has actually moved to China too; it's just that no-one dare say that just yet until we have a insert-word-here-economy to fall back on. The Chinese will find their way around the pathetic little proxies and filters and there's not a lot anyone can do about it. Microsoft can't secure its own software let alone build a censorship package.
I then started reading through some of the other reports dealing with blogs. There's an article there that discusses the uneasy relationship twixt the MSM and bloggers. I laugh every time this one gets brought up. There is a very small subset of bloggers who could be described as the alternative media and to be honest, they tend to be despotic egos sat at a keyboard looking for a suitable place to stick a knife. The rest of us just commentate or prendre le piss occasionally.
And then, the beautiful irony of the whole thing dawned on me. If you look at any BBC report on blogs, it is there classed as "Technology." Dumb-arses. The MSM continue to fight a self-perpetuating battle with the evil blogger-toads who dare to have an opinion that is not edited and sometimes might not even be PC. Opinions are for the letters page you know, and only when they match ours. Gack.
Anyway, speaking of the MSM, the Zedmeister is to be interviewed by Al Beeb today. Let's see if that ends up in the technology section eh?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 13:16 BST
Suckered
I've been double whammied by both the sniffer of cakes and April to do some thing about childhood. Hmmm. What do I miss? This is tough because I don't remember a lot about it...I was either medicated (which I'm sure I would know about) or I was just oblivious (far more likely). I may have to take my earliest memories to guide me through this snake-pit.
1 -- I remember 10 cigarettes being just over 50p. Fantastic days...10 cigs and a couple of Twix's for lunch, all for under a quid.
2 -- Endless days of playing cricket, knocking up ridiculously large batting totals on the driveway with a plastic ball and a size 4 bat.
3 -- Discovering I could make computers do things, truly one of the most revealing moments in my life. I spent months with my head in BASIC and Z80 books. Born a geek I suppose.
4 -- Never having to think or even know about money. I think that in itself makes childhood the best time of anyone's life.
5 -- Raiding the fridge on a Saturday night to steal all the good stuff and stash it before my little brother got his mitts on it.
Now as far as I understand it, I am meant to list the list and take one off and add one, however I've been double hit so I'll wing it...
Slightly Inperfect
Connie
Sniffer of cakes
April
Walls come tumbling down
And for my nominees, who will no doubt ignore the hell out of me as usual:
That Henderson Woman
That Scottish Woman
Keith (I think this might be revenge)
Rita to keep the Atlantic relations evenly balanced, although I think she's in San Diego at the moment or en-route back.
Now, quit meme'ing me...I have work to do. I'm currently doing some market research into something I know nothing about (which has never stopped me before.) I'm sure I'll come across something to be derisory about later (maybe this arsehole?)
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 10:56 BST
13th June 2005
Justice
Those who know me will probably know the people in this report. 9 years eh? Couldn't happen to a nicer thug bloke.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 20:56 BST
Australia vs England
The first 20-20 game is being played as we speak.
England 179 for 8 (20 overs)
Australia 73 for 9 (12.1 overs)
I think I've just had one.
Update: 79 all out. Multiples are us.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 19:57 BST
Why the EU is stupid idea number 33536
"The British position on the rebate defies EU logic and undermines EU solidarity" Catherine Colonna, French European Affairs Minister
Defies EU logic. Crimminy Jickets - the woman is a loon. EU logic falls apart when analyzed using conventional logic.
Undermines EU solidarity. Is this Poland in the late eighties?
Let me translate for you:
"The British position on the rebate is entirely too reasonable for it to be countenanced. We, the French people, rely on agricultural subsidies in order to fund our annual summer of industrial action."
In case you haven't read it, Gordon Brown (who I think I will start refering to as St Gordon) summed it up perfectly:
The distribution of the EU budget is unfair with 42% going to agriculture, even though only 5% of people worked on the land.
He also made the very fair point that were Britain not to get the refund, we would be paying 15 times what France pay.
I've said this before, and I'll say it again. I have no issue with the French people. But I take real issue with their government.
Look at that. I got all the way through a post about the EU and France, and didn't once type "surrender monkeys". Damn. Lost it at the final hurdle.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 13:33 BST
Doppel-gangers reunited
One is a fat bastard "film" producer who is a talentless moonbat. The other is a fat bastard football club owner who is messing with an institution he has no comprehension of. They are both scum who generate more greenhouse gases than your average SUV. Save the planet -- shoot the pair of them. Fat bastards.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 12:36 BST
Sometimes you just don't need detail
I have Radio 4 on. I wish I didn't. Now call me Prudy McPrude, but a twenty minute slot on female orgasms and the alleged hereditary implications is just a tad over the top.
Don't get me wrong. I think it's great that we can all have open discussions about that which causes more religious conversions than a 10 stretch in Strangeways. But dear God, on Radio 4? Channel 4, I could believe. But in the name of all that is holy, Radio 4? I fear I need to retune the radio back to 5 Live. You wouldn't catch Jane Garvey talking about such things.
In other news, I may have a car soon. Having sworn off cars, I have been tempted by Karen's husband's Rover. Yes, that says Rover at the end; I have not been tempted by Nev. It's not the sparkly gay purple I was aspiring to, but it is a Rover, so it meets half my requirements. And it's cheap. Now all I need to do is come up with some money to pay Nevulus and to pay some extorting insurance company.
The potential Kenny-mobile
While at Nev's over the weekend, one of his laptops died. Kenny had supped a beer so came over all practical. "Nevulus, fetch me a screwdriver." We took the bugger to bits, jiggled a few things, reseated a few more and reassembled it. We had three screws left over, but who cares about details like that? They are now "spares". Bugger me if the thing suddenly started working again.
Enthused by an unexpected victory, I took my digital camera to bits. It is now completely fecked, hence the camera phone shots...
I live in a beautiful part of the country.
Really I do.
Shut up.
I predict this man will be a serial killer. He had the coldest eyes I have ever seen. Kinda spooked me really.
And finally, a little breakfast pr0n:
A quality lard fest.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 10:56 BST
11th June 2005
Quickie
Apparently Five Live are reporting a rumor that Ronaldo will be moving to Real Madrid for cash, and, wait for it...Michael Owen.
Somebody is surely taking the piss. Cue:
The Donkey
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 14:09 BST
10th June 2005
My favorite search term ever
Some poor soul got here searching for:
renting+de+mega+yates
All I can say to this misguided love is "Bless. I'm cheap and available."
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 12:21 BST
Telegraph takes top comedy spot
Come on people. I know you all like your centerist Guardian, but do you ever physically guffaw as you read the headlines? I bet not.
Were you to purchase the Torygraph, however, you would be in stitches on a regular basis. Example. Today's lead story, which incidentally the online edition doesn't seem to carry.
Now you will face jail for being nasty to Satanists
Extremist religious groups that advocate child abuse will be given protection under a Bill published by the Government yesterday.
The Racial and Religious Hatred Bill would outlaw remarks considered likely to stir up hatred against all religious groups, including those whose followers believe in beating children to drive out demons.
The Bill contains no definition of "religious belief" and ministers confirmed it would cover members of the African religion whose adherents were convicted last week of cruelty to a girl of eight they regarded as a witch.
Satanists, pagans and atheists would be protected.
Pinch me. Please, please pinch me.
It goes on to comment on how this is a blow against free speech yada yada yada.
Way to go, our fine broadsheet press. I commend you on a thoroughly well reasoned leader. You know, you could have gone down the path of sensationalising this story. Really, you could. Had I written this piece I would have done so as follows (with all my tabloid grit behind me):
Extremist religious groups that advocate an anti-abortion stance will be given protection under a Bill published by the Government yesterday.
The Racial and Religious Hatred Bill would outlaw remarks considered likely to stir up hatred against all religious groups, including those whose followers believe in the Church ruling government strategy.
The Bill contains no definition of "religious belief" and ministers confirmed it would cover members of the Catholic church who have been known to have a bit of a thing for nubile young choir boys.
Anglicans, Catholics, Jews, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, satanists, pagans and atheists would be protected.
See. You took the moral high ground and gave sound arguments. I changed but a few words and it sounds very silly. Good job you are the main stream media and I'm not eh?
Tossers.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 11:32 BST
9th June 2005
Sorry for swearing so late at night but...
I have Question Time on, and John Redwood is a complete and utter twat.
The things you see when you don't have a hand-grenade.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 23:13 BST
Advice to would-be actresses
If you're a good looking aspiring actress and get offered a part in Murphy's Law as Murphy's side-kick, don't take it. You'll have somewhere between one episode and six episodes to make your screen mark before you're killed off horribly. Horribly horribly.
I must confess, I am finding this series of Murphy absolutely compelling viewing. I could watch it twenty four hours a day. I thought the first couple of series were good. This one is totally addictive.
In other news, I'm biting my tongue on a blogging tendency at the moment. It's one of those things where I'm dying to rip into something/someone but know that it would achieve nothing, so I'm schtummm. My self-discipline is Golden. But my cigarettes are silver, which reminds me...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 22:25 BST
Good point
Pam makes a very good point in her latest post, re Clive Owen. He should not attempt an American accent. Neither should Louise Lombard (in CSI) or Catherine Zeta Jones (in anything.)
It is nigh on impossible for a native born English (or Welsh, or, hoots mon, Scottish) person to affect an American accent that cannot be seen through. And if we this side of the pond find it ridiculous, just think what our American cousins must make of it.
I can turn my hand/vocal chords to virtually any accent on the planet, but try to get me to fake an American accent and you'll laugh all the way to the Mason Dixie line. It just ain't happening. I spent my youth watching American TV and prolonged periods of my adult life in the US yet I could not fake an American accent to save my life.
So, Clive, Louise, Catherine etc., do us all a favor and listen to how daft Madonna sounds with her faux English accent. Yes, that's you lot...parodies of yourselves. It's a shame because at least two of you have some talent (sorry Catherine).
Update: How the hell do you spell ZJ's name in this case? Katheryn, Kathryn, Katherine, Catherine? She should just call herself Kate; much less controversial. I'm too lazy to google it. Just like I am whenever I poke fun of Brittney/Brittny/Britney/Brittany Spears/Speares/Speers. I'm going to go with Catherine - that looks right.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 13:40 BST
I had to take a break
Things that are easier than writing a proposal for a university:These are going to be some long arsed days.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:45 BST
8th June 2005
Dead on my feet
Crikey 'Eck.
For someone who is unemployed, I don't half have a workload. I literally haven't stopped all bloody day.
I went to discuss a proposal for the Uni today. I have to write it up by the end of the weekend. For the most part the audience is academics so my usual corporate spinning probably won't work. I may need to engage the services of the Wart in order that the "value" is there for the academic contingent. It's a bit of a tall order in that what I originally thought was just a bit of a design job has now snowballed into a complete remake along with branding, copy etc.
While talking trifles at lunch, I mentioned my little business idea to an old mate. We spent an hour discussing it as an experiment. I explained my ballpoint plan. Much nodding took place, followed my many questions. At the end, I was gobsmacked to receive an informal offer of some start-up cash from him and a third party who I know very well. I don't want to name them for obvious reasons. I've said it before and I'll say it again. The people I used to work with are the best team on the planet. Period. No damned doubt at all. And you cannot keep a good team down.
Now, onto NewCo. We've finally got the legals sorted and can proceed ahead with creating the product we want. We should have production-ready equipment within a couple of months. It all works, it just needs to be glued together and have the appropriate silver bow tied around it. What that means is that my branding and marcomms efforts need to be accelerated. If NewCo succeeds, I'm looking forward to installing my father as the manager of my other little enterprise, on minimum wage! Just kidding...I wouldn't pay him that much.
You see where I'm going here? For someone who has zero cash coming in, I have an awful lot of work in the offing. The above doesn't factor in random dole forms, job applications, telephone interviews etc.
The tide it is a-turning. Dunno when it will hit the shore but it's certainly turning. Looks like I won't have a life at all for a few weeks. But that won't stop me writing nonsense and leaving irrelevant comments on your blog.
In other news, summer continues. My list of requirements continues too...printer, wireless connection so I can work in the garden (sans soap operas), etc.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 23:30 BST
7th June 2005
Damn, can this be me?
In a sweeping change from my usual doom and gloomery, I'm about astound you all. Don't try to stop me.
Today has got to have been one of the best day's weather I ever remember in the hell-hole (keep it upbeat Kenny) North West. The sun drilled down. Not in a continental way. Not in a Midwest way. In a way that only ever happens when England gets some decent weather.
I walked down to Ashton this morning to hand-deliver my CV to the frozen food joint. E didn't seem quite as angry as she looked yesterday, took my CV, along with my verbal explanation and disappeared with what could have been loosely construed as a smile. I wandered back leisurely admiring the work that the council does in Jubilee Park -- a rare space of classic landscaping in a landscape that isn't used to these things.
A spot of lunch and then an hour sat in the back garden on the bench, doing my crossword. [Incidental -- I must be the only Telegraph reader in Ashton -- I just think it's easier to come up with counter arguments if you just read the crap rather than read the crap that counters the crap, cough Grauniad, cough. Oh, and their crossword is better.]
I mowed the back and the front, which are looking great given their immediate surroundings. I started writing my business plan for the latest hair-brained scheme that I have. I filled in a couple of what I call real job application forms. I arranged a meeting with Manchester Uni tomorrow so we can talk web sites.
All in all, a busy, productive day with just the right amount of sunshine thrown in.
Tonight, the temperature has dropped to mildly cool. Outside smells of grass and great summer evenings. To hell with the fact there's no-one here to party with or any music; sitting on a bench in the quiet cool smoking a few cigarettes will do me.
This can't be me. Energy, innovation and a little contentment all in the same day? Good Lord. What next? A job that I like?
Jesus, what the hell were those mushrooms I ate at lunch time?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 22:29 BST
Dry spell is 'worst in 30 years'
I knew it. I predicted this months ago. From Al Beeb:
England and Wales have had their driest November to March period in 30 years, Met Office figures reveal.
The dry spell spanned two complete seasons across most of the UK with five consecutive months of below-average rainfall, a spokesman said.
Parts of central and south England had just 60% of their average rainfall.
Since I returned from the US at the end of January, I can count on one hand the number of days that it hasn't rained. Of course, the water management companies insist that it has been the wrong kind of rain and yesterday I read somewhere that "the UK is not a water-rich country."
The following measurements record precipitation levels from November to March. I state these without comment, initially:
East Anglia 8.4in (214.6mm)
South-east and south-central England 10.2in (259.5mm)
The Midlands 11.3in (289.4mm)
East and north-east England 12.5in (319mm)
England 12.8in (324.4mm)
England and Wales 14.4in (364.7mm)
South-west England and Wales 18.8in (476.4mm)
East Scotland 22.2in (566.2mm)
North-west England and north Wales 24.2in (617.6mm)
West Scotland 37.2in (945.3mm)
Scotland 41.6in (1,057mm) (Ed: Feck, you could you drown in that)
Excuse me? The country ain't that big. Let me hear you scream "infrastructure expense." Sorry, we have a bridge to build over a load of water that continually appears to flood. I do keep forgetting.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 14:14 BST
More regeneration of the South
Half a billion quid on a bridge to cross the Thames. Because the poor loves have only got four bridges East of Tower Bridge. The other sparrows down there have eight in the city center and sixteen to the west, between Chelsea and the M25. Impoverished they are. I propose a benefit gig for their cause. One in Newham and one in Greenwich simultaneously broadcast to all the South East. We could recruit all the great London bands, East 17, Boyzone, Spice Girls, the list is surely endless.
I say give the Southerners their bridge. We in the North, really don't need any extension to the Metrolink do we? After all, it caters for the affluent Southern Mancunians commuting into central Manchester. Really. We only need a line that runs from Altrincham to Picadilly. Why did they waste the money extending it all the way up to Bury when that could have been spent on a crafty cockney footbridge from Docklands to, erm, the other side of Docklands? Wait a minute...didn't they do that? Except that was with the money slated for the Metrolink line North of Manchester. I'd forgotten. Silly me.
My take on this is that if the majority of the UK are stupid enough to want to live in the South East, let them. But trying to spend your way out of overcrowding will never work. Creating a new city east of Tower Bridge will not help anything except increase the over-population.
I must confess, I have no idea where Newham is. I must have been through it as I've been all over the South East, mostly clothed in utter repulsion. Once you get South of Hertfordshire, it all melds into one big ugly fusion of cutesy villages that have been consumed by the sprawling city. It's as sickening as it is ugly.
Come on peeps, let's start a fund to get London another bridge that they so desperately need.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Tue 14:05 BST
6th June 2005
ADD hits new high
Today I had a few of what the corporate world calls "objectives" to achieve. I fully intended walking down to Ashton to claim my dream job at the local frozen food joint. 16 hours a week at minimum wage sounded like a dream job, and I wasn't going to let any under-qualified grunt pip me to the post. Oh no. So I mosied on down there, sporting my best retail God look, not too smart, not too scruffy...never let it be said I don't learn. I arrived and asked for the manager, who we shall call E. She appeared sporting signs of domestic abuse (as is to be expected) and politely told me that they were out of application forms so I'd have to bring in a CV. Which is exactly not what I wanted to hear; I have no access to a printer at the moment so I only have my real-life CV which has cost me a couple of jobs in the manual labor market recently. No worries, I'm smarter than to let her look at my CV and discount me based on education. My cover letter to the job that would allow me the privilege of stocking freezers and maybe even working checkout dealt with all the usual objections. Paraphrased, I told the good E that I am a mad-arsed inventor who works when inspiration takes his fancy and who needs some kind of income to feed himself twixt creative spells. Working flexibly is my middle name and I can rejoin the creative world whenever I have the opportunity. Let's see how that one flies.
Secondly, as I walked past the job center, I was torn between kicking the people going in for being wasters and running in demanding money with menaces, waving my UK tax and NI contributions over the years. I took the middle ground and entered, told the chap in question that it was all a bit pants really and they really should apply some common sense to problems rather than adhere to the brain-dead flow-chart they have in front of them. He agreed. He gave me the same forms I filled in a few months ago and told me to come back on Friday. He told me to expect a another denial for any form of benefit, but that I could appeal. Great. Progress. Not.
Finally, I walked through the much revered Green Arcade and noticed there's one of the shops there available for rent. I say shop but what I really mean is the space of a very small terraced front room. Enough to house maybe 4 PCs and desks, a small admin area and a printer. Being the kind of ditzy git that I am, I asked the stall holder opposite how much they wanted for the space. "Abart £80 a week which includes rates, leccy, heat, security etc etc." I got interested.
You see, there used to be an internet cafe in this town that did good business by all accounts, until their understanding of pr0n and minors spliced away from that of English law. Then it went. Ashton is not the hotbed of connectivity that you would expect (sic). Online services will be a luxury for years, but people will want them on an on-demand basis. Naturally, my brain started doing some mathematics and the Excel was cranked. I watched the passing traffic for half an hour. Another hair-brained scheme was devised. Internet Cafe, Web services, programming tutorials etc etc. I came home and started modeling what it would take to make a living out of it, and to be honest, it isn't much. I had got as far ahead of myself as to wonder what would happen were I to get a real job and whether I could still keep it on before I caught myself and decided it's always better to sleep on an idea before reaching for the spreadsheet.
I'm utterly buggered (in the non-biblical sense of the word) so I'll think about my mad-cap scheme again tomorrow. Thinking about it, I may even delete this tomorrow. Too tired to communicate. That's what dole forms do for you. G'night.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 22:50 BST
Cryogenics lead the way in UK policy
Tony Triple Adverb Blair has today admitted that he will have to "put on ice" the proposed referendum on a European constitution. Coming days after non, nee, nein and not-fucking-likely votes across Europe, the cryogenic solution is being hailed by Jacques Chiraq (Francais, nil point) and Gerhard Schroeder (Deutschland, uber alles) as a perfect answer to an impossible question.
Chiraq, who is recovering from a slamming in the EuroConst 2005 tournament, stated "Wen ze seagules follow ze trawleur, eet's becoss zey sink sardeenes vill be srown eento ze sea" which was widely interpreted as high praise for Mr Blair's foresight.
Schroeder, who was too drunk to comment, was reported to have lifted a right arm up with outstretched hand, again a sign understood to be positive.
The news has to be good for Blair, whose awkward trip to the US this week, prior to the UK's presidency of the G8 meeting (the world's foremost money-grabbing tossers), will see him locking horns with George W Bush on the subject of aid to Africa. Bush, who has decried the UK led initiative commented on Larry King Live last night "The Africans already have too much AIDS. As a spreader of democracy, I cannot sanction such inhumanical suggestions."
Tony Blair is said to have his work cut out for him, but is upbeat of a solution involving putting George Bush on ice, or somewhere just as cold.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 15:11 BST
Report boosts London Olympic bid
London and Paris have been praised for their "high-quality" bids to stage the 2012 Olympic Games in a crucial inspection report published on Monday.
Olympic Committee Chairperson Rudi Von Mcluskey commended both cities for "keeping it real" in a time where the games have become increasingly professional, commercial and totally disinteresting.
Mcluskey cited recent events as not being in the spirit of the Olympic Games. "None of the recent hosts (except Athens of course) have even had a hill let alone a mountain. Both Sebastian Coe's (London) and Sebastienne Chlo's (Paris) bids include some kind of slope. Coe's citation of Highgate was a stretch but we can work with that, and Chlo's Montmartre could be constituted as a rise in gradient. We shall see whose is bigger and best suited."
Another factor that the committee have considered in light of the recent games, is that of hygeine. Increasingly there has been a trend to Western hygeine standards where sewage systems and water supplies are monitored for drug usage. "What we require is a return to the spirit of the games, where latrines line the arenas, where clothing is incidental and where competitors fight for the right to an olympic medal."
As an addendum, Mcluskey's aide commented "We're very conscious of the commercialism involved in today's games. People see it as a money-spinner. Although no-one has actually proven the theory that money can be made by hosting the games, some have come perilously close. We would like to see a return to not for profit/break-even by eliminating sponsorhip. Coincidentally, ridding ourselves of sponsorship means eliminating costumes and sports shoes which gives the games that reality edge that people seem to want so much on TV. We see it as a win/win."
Paris and London are famed for their aging and overflowing broken sewers and are seen as more in keeping with the original olympic spirit. Also known worldwide as having the smallest hotel rooms this side of Liliput, both cities have little scope for accomodating athletes in suites let alone villages. This would mean camps in either Hyde Park or under the Eiffel Tower, providing ample opportunity for the coverage of 'off-the-track competitions' that would be filmed on Channel 4 in the early hours of the morning. Mcluskey views the camps as a "celebrity boxing meets big brother, with the opportunity to watch some quality athletes shagging prior to competing. As my aide said earlier, it's a win/win. Nowhere in Russia would they allow such degeneracy."
Sky TV are currently battling for rights to the camp coverage (rumors of a £2bn bid abound, which would surely align with the IOC's definitely-for-loss principle) while the BBC have reportedly bought the rights for the actual sport for around 50p and a Mars bar.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Mon 14:48 BST
5th June 2005
Thankyou Rita
Call me fickle, but Rita's new CSS gubbins has got me all hot down there under the collar for her font. I just had to. For a while anyway; if my crush on it wears off, I'll return to whatever tarty font I was using, but in the meantime me and this font are having a major-league fling.
That said, I now notice that lots of peeps use it (soz April).
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 22:28 BST
Another yatescentral scoop
'Pay-as-you-go' soda charge plan
Soda guzzlers could pay up to £1.34 a can in "pay-as-you go" pop charges under new government plans.
The charges, aimed at cutting lardiness, would replace health warnings and calorie listings, Alistair Darling has said.
The fat secretary told newspapers the change was essential if Britain was to avoid "LA-style obesity".
Every bottle or can would have a black box to allow a satellite system to track their journey, with prices starting from as little as 2p per chug of diet soda.
Mr Darling has outlined his proposals in several of Sunday's newspapers - previewing a speech he will give to the Social Market Foundation on Thursday.
A satellite tracking system would be used to enforce the toll, with prices varying from 2p per chug during off peak boozing hours to £1.34 for full sugar Pepsi or Coke at peak times.
'Facing Flatulance'
The Department of Transport says the scheme would be fairer because those who drink the most crap would pay the most, and thus be penalized for their stupidity.
"We have got to do everything we can during the course of this parliament to decide whether or not we go with pay as you go chugging," Mr Darling said.
|
 Tequila is my best friend. I take it to bed with me. Reader Gavin, Basingstoke
|
"Unless action is taken now, the country could face lard floods within two decades."
If public reaction is favourable, as the government expects, a pilot scheme planned for the Leeds area could be rolled out nationwide within the next 10 years.
'Act now'
The Environment Agency's Nick Rijke warned that shifting money away from convenience duty, as was being proposed by the treasury secretary, would take away the incentive for people to drink real beer.
"There would be no difference between me supping ten pints in the pub in a small village as opposed chugging ten cans of red bull in The City," he told Yatescentral.
"That would be a problem for environmentalists.
"The main message from the Environment Agency is we do not want people to wait for government policy to change - we want people to act now themselves."
Mr Rijke urged pop-chuggers to split their lard consumption by watering it down with more enviromentally friendly drinks, such as vodka, rum, gin etc.
Environmental group Friends of the Earth broadly welcomed the introduction of pop-chug charging but warned it would be "no magic wand" in tackling the obesity crisis, favoring a complete ban on carbonated drinks or a flat "death-tax" on those people who consume more than one pop a day.
Money raised through charging must be invested in the brewing industry to improve alternatives to shite sodas, spokesman Tony Bosworth said.
"The reality is chug-charging won't be introduced for years - we need action now," he added.
The statement comes on the back of the progressive New Labour plan to issue cigarettes to people boarding long-haul flights. John Player, who proposed the motion in the Commons some months ago, said "Al Italia used to hand out tabs as you boarded planes and it was a phenomenal success. I think extending the 'Welcome Society' to supplying industrial grade alcohol instead of lethal sodas shows how we are pushing forward our pledge of inclusion for all sectors of society."
However, as smart-arse political jackal Jeremy Paxman pointed out, the problem doesn't properly address how alcopops would be dealt with under the chug-charge. The Bill is scheduled for review in the Commons Bar very late tomorrow evening.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sun 12:12 BST
4th June 2005
Controlled explosion imminent
WTF is up with the world? Remember the Carphone Warehouse saga? I buy a Nokia, Nokia stops taking a charge, I return phone, phone disappears (they want money for a loan phone), two weeks later nothing has happened, get letter informing me that they will call when it's fixed, they insist that the phone will be "repaired". All this while trying to sell me some other shite.
Well my mother and father's phone is buggered and they're about to set off on holiday. As it happens they will pass by where my phone has been being held hostage, so I suggest that they hang on a few minutes and I'll call the Carphone Warehouse just in case they have "repaired" it and just forgotten to call. So I spend 25 minutes calling all their numbers for service without an answer. My mother calls my borrowed cell phone to say they can't wait any longer and will just buy a new one en-route. By this time, I'm once again at defcon-5 and am not going to let it lie.
I call their main customer service line where I'm put on hold while they establish where the phone is. After ten minutes I get "Yes Mr Yates, your phone is fixed and is back in the store for you to collect. I don't know why they didn't call you. It appears we had to replace the motherboard on it."
First off, utter shite. You don't replace the motherboard on a cell-phone for love nor money. They have daughter cards attached to them, not to mention other things that are too fiddly to rework by hand. If they have, I will be able to tell, and I will nuke their Warrington branch, because the life expectancy of that phone has just halved at least. In fact remind me to ensure I get a redated warranty. Jesus, if I only had access to some pictures from my old employ -- well I do but they're on a Linux drive somewhere in Illinois -- I may scour the net for some, and then treat you to an explanation as to why I am right (again).
Second, which business does not answer their phone for 25 minutes? I bet if I called their sales line, someone would answer within seconds.
I swear I am developing into Harold Angryperson. Has the UK fallen to bits so much since I left? Customer service is shite wherever you go, quality is rubbish and the place looks like a complete shit-hole, over-run with Chavs, dog shit and broken glass.
All it will take today is one more instance of such incompetency and I swear I will have to call the bomb squad to come and do a controlled explosion.
If you can be bothered, here is a paper that I co-wrote on the problems of placing passive chip-caps and the problems their dimensions cause. I am now off to look for some images to explain further why you cannot "repair" these things.
There might be a daughterboard under that RF shield. How exactly did they replace the motherboard?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 15:12 BST
Pundits R US
I was perusing my referer logs just now and caught this:
Perhaps I should write a techie column? After all, last time I spent any time with an industry journalist, after 45 minutes on the phone, this was the end result:
XXX (Minneapolis, MN; www.XXX.com) manufactures self-learning AOI systems that use statistical appearance modeling to simplify training, reduce the amount of time required to deal with false calls, and make the machine more usable for line operators. While the system's software aids in variation prediction, it still requires programmer intervention. Yet, the more boards the system is exposed to, the better its ability to discriminate. "After a sufficient number of examples, the system runs on its own," says technical marketing manager Kenny Yates. "However, it still requires periodic operator and programmer intervention."
One concern with self-learning AOI systems, especially in very low-volume/high- mix environments, is that the run could be over by the time the system is fully trained. But Yates points out that "operator interface improvements have made knowledge-based systems as quick, if not quicker, to program than idealized systems."
Ripped from this article. Eeeh, how easily I could rip that piece to shreds.
Honestly, if you're going write about a subject, at least have a clue.
BTW, I wrote this once and then had the nerve to look at my My Documents folder by changing up from My Pictures and was greeted with the blue screen of death. Honest to God; the next time this machine goes tits up, I'm back to Linux. Windows is the devil's own OS.
Update: I understand why they caught that article; it was the reference to the UN's coffee deciding abilities. What a dum search engine: grep -i coffee *.php > lead_headline.html
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Sat 12:11 BST
3rd June 2005
Six degrees
Bloody hell fire. There I was tootling around the blogs this evening (the alternative was ritual suicide) and I happened upon a comment that the cakesniffer had made over at Connie's about where she did her PhD. Erm, Warwick. In the years where several of my greatest and less celubrious friends were at the time.
OK, Dr Wart -- where did you live in Leamington in that shite student hall thing? And what road did you live on in Earlsdon (I remember it was by the green but just a couple of streets back)? And to sanity check my memory, the Albany is where we used to go, yes? And occasionally the Royal Oak. I don't remember the Earlsdon Cottage do I? And in town, I know we used to got to the Dog and Trumpet but I don't remember Brown's.
Anyway, I do remember the fry-up joint/caravan by the coach station and ringing my bank in Boro for an extension on the old OD so I could stay a week longer.
Fun times indeed, not.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 23:01 BST
Friday night is experimentation night.
I am about to do some DSL experiments. I wish I had a multimeter so I could do this without moving PCs around etc., but I don't. Lessons will be learned, and if my theory is right, I may never need to suffer another evening soap.
Pray for me.
Result. All I need to do now is hide some wires and find a decent table. Joy!
Update: Bugger, I now understand how DSL works. I am back downstairs again and thus subject to shite on the TV in the background. Ug.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 17:37 BST
Can't get the staff
Remember the agency I went seeing on Wednesday? I didn't tell you but she asked me to call each Friday. I did.
"Sorry, she left at lunchtime - she's on holiday for two weeks."
So much for that one...
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 16:30 BST
Sorry Georgie Boy
This time you are absolutely wrong.
"Doesn't fit in with our budgetary process."
Fucking processes be damned. I love his selective use of processes as justifications to do or not do things. Processes are the reason innovation is stifled, why everything is low-risk, what maintains the status-quo. Oh, and kills millions every year.
It's not often you'll hear me say this, as I do have a lot of time for GWB, but this is just a completely twattish manouver.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 14:24 BST
More thoughts on the .xxx problem
Way back in the day, I used to criticise anti-virus software companies for the way they scanned email. Those who were not in the know or were just plain idiots would use the browser pane in their email, have HTML and activeX controls switched on and then were mortified when they were infected with rickets, dyptheria, Hitler or Love-A. I always held that email AV software should handle email by acting as a proxy POP server rather than just scanning what was downloaded by the pop server.
For those less technically inclined, what used to happen is this:
[Your PC] ----request for mail----> [POP server]
to which the POP server would reply directly.
Nowadays, most AV people have adopted what I have long since advocated:
[Your PC] ----request for mail----> [POP server]
but what actually happens is:
[Your PC] ----request for mail----> [AV Software]
[AV software] ----request for mail----> [POP server]
[POP server] ----reply with mail----> [AV software]
AV software scans email and the finally:
[AV software] ----scanned email----> [Your PC]
And your email client never notices the difference.
Now apply that to the world of pr0n sites. You'll notice if you use Thunderbird that you have the ability to switch off images from remote sites in your email. Images that are embedded in emails typically mean the email was formatted as a HTML document. The way that they are blocked is that the call to get the image is intercepted in much the same way that the proxy POP server above works, except rather than relaying the image, it just sends info such as height, width, alignment etc.
Your browser, when it pulls down an image issues a call along the lines of fetch_image(). Now imagine a proxy that pulls the image and analyzes it prior to rendering it to your screen, such that if it contains offensive material, it stops the rendering, just as your AV software intercepts a virus. In principle this is great, in practice, it's very difficult.
In the same way that facial recognition software is ropey, so is generic image analysis software, except worse. In recognising a face, you are looking for something. For example, if the computer has a digitized photo of me, it can snap me in a queue at an airport and compare that image with a known image of my face. Even that technology is not perfect by a long shot. It will still false positive (say Osama is me) and false negative (say I am not me.)
So, if we tried something similar with offensive images, where we have nothing to compare it too, rather than looking for something anywhere in an image, we are looking for anything anywhere in an image. This makes it orders of magnitude more complex of a problem. Literally, we would be grabbing an image and looking for anything anywhere in that image. And digital images are not text whereby simple filters can extract certain characteristics. An added problem is that of when to stop looking? Processing a few meg of an image can take anywhere between a couple of milliseconds and a few minutes depending on how you analyze the image.
The software that was developed at Manchester Uni which we used in our last venture into electronics inspection was originally designed to analyze soft tissue image (X-rays, MRIs, CT scans etc.) It builds up models of whatever you show it, taking into account the variations that it sees. Now one of the application engineers, who will remain nameless, was very mature one day and decided to model a female breast. He showed it several images of breasts and then took an unseen image and asked the software whether there were any breasts in the picture. It was surprisingly accurate seeing there are all sorts of scaling/perspective problems.
What I want to see is something like that, that takes "models" of offensive material and screens pictures using a proxy. In much the same way that virus software is updated frequently so would your "models" of offensive materials. Then again, I'd miss all the art on Connie's site.
This probably won't happen for at least 10 years or so. But when it does, remember you heard it here first.
Alright I'll shut up being a boring techie now and return to the usual programming of moaning, being vitriolic, laughing at EU woes and taking the piss out of Michael Owen.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 13:39 BST
Someone's missing a trick
I've just had a long, hard think about the proposal for .xxx domains and the ensuing problems it generates.
My first reaction is that it's a perfect scheme for easy filtering and blocking pr0n0graphy sites. The religious right in the US would love it. The ISPs could all set up proxies on request to blackball those domains, and everybody would be happy. Wouldn't they? Would they hell.
It works in China. There, the net is trawled and dissected. From my time there I know that most .edu domains are banned. Anyone who has a blog, if they look hard enough, will see the PRC Grand Council domain hit their page probably once a day (I know I see it - it only shows up as an IP address but if you do a reverse look-up, you'll see it's the PRC bot.) I know several blogs that I link to are banned. I wouldn't be surprised if mine was now after my comments on Beijing and Taiwan.
Let's take just the US as an example of differences in law. Imagine the world is the US and the states are the various countries.
I forget whether it's North or South Carolina that is debating banning evolution from its curriculum, but one of them is. An openly pro-religious state (read country) would have no problem blackballing the whole of the .xxx addresses. Whereas somewhere more socially liberal in their thinking (California, Nevada, Florida) wouldn't bat two eyes at internet sites that portray sexual acts, after all each of these states has strip-joints coming out of their proverbial ears; they line the state coffers since they're mostly regulated.
And again, just within the US, the freedom of speech vs indecency laws will be pushed to their limits.
Now that is just the US. Imagine that on a worldwide level where the extremes are even greater. The US looks at British TV (and I must confess that I don't agree with their view) and thinks that British TV is raunchier and more explicit than US TV. The UK looks at French TV and thinks it borders on pr0n0graphy. And then we get to the more Nordic countries where naked women adorn virtually every billboard.
Once again, the internet has completely out-evolved international law.
I started to think about how you could maintain the Western love of free speech while balancing it with a certain amount of sensible safeguards. The Western answer of course is to make it a "pay" service. As with adult TV channels, you would pay to view your chosen vice thus keeping consumers, sensors, providers and taxmen relatively happy. Only problem with this is that it simply will not work.
If you're a .xxx provider, how do you entice your fee-paying public to your domain over another .xxx domain? Answer: adverts on sites that are not in the .xxx domain or free trailers. Just like today's internet except no .xxx. Woosh! What was that? It was the reasoning for a .xxx domain's existence going up in smoke.
OK, how do you combat the free explicit material being used? The obvious answer is to have a standards body that allocates certificates (a la movie industry) that rates sites and confines them to the .xxx domain if they deem them inappropriate for the general public. Slippery slope methinks. Take for example, Steve's site. Now Steve is as conservative as you get. He occasionally jokes about midget pr0n and consenting acts between Al Franken and Fidel Castro but his site is first and foremost a humor site. He has had difficulties over the last few days as one of the "net nanny" companies that control access to the web for employers (a company called Websense) have classified his site as a sex site. After contacting their counsel, he managed to get it reclassified as an entertainment site.
Now, that is just one company that Steve dealt with. How many others keep databases of site classifications and are they as arbitrary as Websense? Were the powers that be to opt for this kind of standards body, there would be the usual uproar between opening it up to the private sector and have a single body. Who watches the watchers? Inevitably there would be an international body composed of a few (government) nominated officials who would be the ultimate standards agency. And they would agree about a site as much as the UN agrees about what flavor coffee they have in New York.
The alternative to a UN-style body is to allow the private sector to run the show and watch the ensuing class action suits escalate to the highest courts in our lands. Of course, then we would have whose durisdiction the case should fall into.
What I'm trying to get at here is that what on the surface seems like a good idea is only good for one profession -- lawyers. Whichever way this would be enforced is a complete disaster waiting to happen. Small sites will have no recourse if they were deemed .xxx accidentally and the criteria on which judgements would be made would be so subjective and woolly that law-suits would out-last domain registrations.
Is pr0n an internet problem? Yes. Can it be solved by nanny governments/organisations? No. Can the private sector help? Probably, just as they do with anti-virus software. Can we rely on them to be fair? No.
Still a problem then. www.helpmeout.xxx
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Fri 12:34 BST
2nd June 2005
Memes R US 3
Because Murphy's Law has finished now and because I am two words away from exploding with boredom/annoyance/irritability, I decided I would do Keith's picture meme. Rita did it too, so all the cool Americans must be doing it.
The idea is that you go to google images and do a search for the following: the town where you were born, the town you live now, your name, your grandmother's name, your favorite food, your favorite drink, your favorite song and your favorite smell. Then you get to choose the first or your favorite result.
Word. Here we go.
The church at the top of the road in Lowton, opposite the Ram's Head
Wigan, in all its glory
A very old (10+ years ago) PR shot I had done
Not my grandmother
One of God's tastiest creatures
Mmm...port
Paul Weller and the boys
Mmm...white musk
Normal vitriol will return tomorrow.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 22:28 BST
Ah how do I loathe thee
Let me count the ways...I tell ya, if it weren't for Murphy's Law tonight, I would be ready to go postal.
Murphy, tonight.
Gratuitous Annie shot, last year.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 16:51 BST
My day out
Blatantly ripping off someone's My Day Out post title, I will update you with my delve back into the commercial world yesterday. I know you're all utterly fascinated with the Shit Storm That is my Life™ (another rip-off) and are hanging on my every word, waiting to know how the meeting with the agency went yesterday. Not. OK, well I'll tell you anyway. Then I'm going to post a self-congratulatory rant on why I have always been right about Europe, if I can be bothered twixt the job offers flooding in. Not.
Well, I tootled into Manchester on the train. Arriving at Picadilly Station is a nightmare nowadays. The place is like a bloody airport and just about as well laid out. Of course, the provincial trains stop at platforms that are so far away from Manchester that you're half way to Altrincham when you get off. Anyway, I disembarked (not deplaned or detrained) and went off to find the Metrolink. After a few circuits and a cig outside, I found the hidden tram stop. From Picadilly to Trafford Bar took about 14 minutes; not bloody bad at all.
So I arrived at the agency and was ushered into a very sparse room that obviously had the "machine-room" in a cupboard; you could hear the switches pulsating from behind a very nasty pale blue door. My agent, whom we shall call P, took her pew and began quizzing me about what I had done, what I wanted to do, what my skills were etc. In a very calm, matter of fact manner, I explained what I had been doing for the last 15 years or so. She took copious notes. After about 45 minutes, she disappeared out of the room for a couple of minutes before returning and asking me to explain the SMT industry. Ouch! OK, exercise in simplification on a grand level. I drew a picture describing the process, explained what did what etc. She again withdrew and returned saying that their engineer nominally understood the technology.
"So what were you responsible for?" asks P.
"Hmmm. Well I lead a cross-functional team that was responsible for the design, engineering, testing, software development, manufacturing, sales, market positioning and overall functionality of a machine vision system from hardware through optics through software," says I, "oh, and I also did a bit of branding and metrology on the side."
Blank look.
"So you're kind of a techie who does commercial stuff as well?" says P.
"Yes," says I, "I've done everything from writing application software to fluffy marketing."
"Hmmm...I'm sure there are a lot of software companies who would love you on their books you know."
"Good. Let's hope so eh?"
I got the feeling that by the end of the meeting all she was seeing was $ dollops of commission. She flat out told me that I was the best candidate that she had on her books at the moment (Kenny says "candidate for what?") and that she would spend the rest of the week devoted to touting just me. Kenny says "break a leg love."
I'm being a little facetious actually. She was genuinely excited at the prospect of finding me a job and she was very, very enthusiastic by the time I left. I wonder whether her translation of my technical merits might leave a little to be desired but I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. I actually walked out of the building feeling very good.
Another Metrolink ride, a half hour delay at the station during which I had the best cappucino ever (platform 13/14 lounge -- I told you it's an airport now -- from the Costa stand), and a 25 minute train ride and I was home again, feeling quite enthused. Let's hope the calls start coming in sooner rather than later.
Now, Europe...I love the smell of a singed constitution in the morning.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Thu 12:21 BST
1st June 2005
Quickie before I get weaving
All the UK people who read this are NOT allowed to watch Chancer on ITV3 tonight (or thereafter.) I have shamelessly ripped quotes out of it for all my adult life, and if you didn't see it the first time around, you don't deserve to start using them now.
Quotes I utterly passed off as my own on numerous occasions:
"If that man had a slightly higher IQ, he would be a plant."
"One cannot speak too highly of the artichoke bottoms."
"The great joy of having a really good bottle of wine, is having another."
"Up with this, I will not put."
"The type of person who would bail you out of this mess is known as a complete dickhead. Fortunately, the world is full of them."
No doubt I will be reappraised of some more old favorites later.
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 13:58 BST
Old Trafford here I come
No I have not been signed as Alex's successor or been asked to join the cricket team. But I will be heading to Old Trafford this evening for an intervew. Which means the suit will have its second outing within days, as will my razor. I say it's an interview, and it kind of is, but it's not the kind of interview that gets you a job immediately. It's one of those "meet your recruitment agency" deals where they interview you about your plans for world domination or career ambition. I wouldn't do this usually, but the only time I got anywhere with an agency was when I went in and met them. That was in Manchester too; Intellect Recruitment just by the town hall. I wish I'd kept in touch with the guy who placed me then.
So the questions will all be geared to aspirations. I'm going to have to work on that prior to getting there. Do I want to do sales, marketing or something completely techie? Who bloody knows? I don't. To be honest, I'd not turn down a job doing first-line telephone support - I can do that in my sleep and it wouldn't be too long before I got hauled into a third/fourth level support position or into the development team.
Bah, I'll think about that little lot on the train on the way in.
Coming back may be a problem too. My interview is at 4:45. If it goes on any longer than an hour, I'm screwed for a train back for a couple of hours and will just have to hang out in the bloody rain. Yes, the British summer has returned with a vengeance (on the same day I was going to get the lawn-mower out too.)
I think my problem with interviews is that I have only ever had two formal interviews. One when I was 22 that got me into the work circuit, and one in upstate NY last year when I was arguably clinically insane. We'll see how this one goes. I don't have any nerves at all as this is a meet, greet and consult affair and there's nothing hard and fast riding on it. It's the real thing that sends me into a kerfuffle. Which is odd seeing I'm a right opinionated git for most of the rest if the time.
Anyway, I'll quit blithering. Too negative Kenny...must think positively. Kick arse, take names, demand spondoolies, all that jazz.
I am now away to smoke one of the Wart's Benson & Hedges cigarettes. Maybe once I've finished that and drunk a few more cups'o'PG, I'll be in the mood to take the piss out of the EU treaty again...Gutte Mittoch, how's about no?
Comments (), Permalink, Posted: Wed 11:42 BST
