Don't want your president

Could be a track played in many parts of the world where leaders are more tin-pot that presidential, and more interested in lining their cushy behinds than the futures of their citizens.  

But the following is batman off  by kämmerer from the album rooftop considerations. Another friday nod to a coming weekend of carefree simple nothingness. many of us have forgotten to include in our lives.  

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Ding dong, merrily oh high, is it that time of year already.

Dammit yes it is, and shops have apparently decided that those with the memory of a fruit-bat might well forget that christmas could well be happening this year, and started to advertise from september. 

It is with utter displeasure that with days flying swiftly by until the festive season of "you call this a present! I hate you," departs, and the increase in a&e admissions fall back to normal levels; the following should be on everyone shopping list.

"Crack Alley brings you the latest in it's happy handbag retno electronic dentist gansta-rap classic-house mixp3 mash-up's.  Taking you screaming back to the 80's and flushing you out of the teenies -in a rapidly retreating ambulance- guaranteed by track 3, or your money-back!

Cost? Get this once in a lifetime offer.  Only £2,499 bn payable in six easy instalments.  And once we receive your first instalment you'll receive, as if by magic and return post, your first two discs of 100,000 discs containing over 500 ZB of ultra precision and honed aural delights. 

Don't have a crapray? Don't worry, just buy the discs anyway and wonder what  you're missing; until that is, you've hacked enough accounts to afford that ultra gorgeous 6D time-wave sound sytsem that will make your ears bleed now, but more importantly make them bleed from before you were born.

Crapray music system.  You'll never see another offer in the same way ever again."

A moisture of... happiness?

After finishing eating another piece of toughened leather, this time over the usa elections, i was at least satisfyingly mesmerised by the middle east appearing to be on track for imminenet conflagration; combining stupidity, asininity and any other inity that crops appropriately crops along.  Imagine if wwi or wwii were still simmering along in one form or another, depressing decade after mind-smacking decade.  Believe the term, get a grip might be appropriate, along with compromi- hold on just need to bang on the ceiling, damned neighbours!

However a track on jamendo caught my ear as i was looking for, inspiration...
dj goblin's creature mythique mix was circulating round my repeat button for at least an hour.  Oh the price of an addict.

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Be good to get back to the miserable country.

Sometimes, you just need to... share

Sometimes, you just need to wonder at the direction, with eyes wide-open, and share.

Something useful?

"Hm, write something useful," a friend suggested the other day, "that people can dig their teeth into."

"Useful?  Isn't that diametrically opposed to reflective pedantry? And surely the odd sarcastic observations must have a mote of usefulness about them?" I rejoined.

"Only so far, and you haven't quite hit the knack of enlisting your audience without alienating them first; or having them fall asleep mid-sentence.  You have a tendency to wander in your, er, prose."

Well at least the pause was considerate.

"Useful..." I started.  Feeling the strain build up in the nether regions of hardly used cells I soon turned, eager to splurge.  "How about writing something on building your own portable pen-sized cutting laser?  Or, a thousand and one ways to boil your neighbours?  Bear traps for neighbours from hell and their screaming kids?  The besieged hermits diy handbook of tried and tested projectile missile construction?"  My pathetic gleeful smile said it all, as I slowly found myself ecstatically warming to the many-faceted possibilities that such an expansive topic would offer, especially in the way of hours and hours of happy rewinds.  My friend slowly shook her head in disappointment before continuing to munch on a honey-dipped cinnamon-sprinkled lovingly chopped (personally by the head chef) celery stalk.  

I wanted to tell her where i'd seen the staff's rabbits doing their organics; but somehow at that moment, it just didn't feel like the right thing to do.