Surely not a spam-scam?

I awoke yesterday morning to discover i was the rather surprised winner of winning ticket number 00869575733664, with the lucky numbers 12-12-23-35-40-41 (12) - which would indeed be an interesting draw, if any number drawn could then be used over and over again; forget the 1 in a 116,531,800 approximate chance of winning the euromillions jackpot, this would make it more 1 in a: not this, or the next, or the next, but the end of the next universe's time-line chance of winning the big one kind of odds.

[Warning, bubble expansion detected!]

Bizarrely on this occasion, i won!

How remarkable is that?  Having a lucky ticket i never purchased or possessed, with numbers i never entered, in a lottery with no name, that simply turns up trumps!

Wonderful.

Oh, there goes a unicorn by the window, giving me a wink and a nod - how sweet.

My ardour at wondering what to do with this newly found virtual wealth was somewhat deflated, when i found out the ticket number had been in circulation since the 1st of March this year.  Not only the same ticket number, but the same lucky numbers too.  One thing which has changed however is bernard graham's email, which appears to have gone through more permutations than any of the winning numbers or tickets purportedly waiting to dump on some poor unlucky soul.  The appearance of an interloper (in the form of a ms peterson) is perhaps an indication that mr graham's success rate at reeling in recalcitrant winners is less than stellar, and so a new tak's been attempted..

Don't forget and let me re-iterate; without me having to lift a finger, press a digit, do anything, but  simply exist and be the proud owner of an email address, some spam-bot has informed me i am richer to the grand sum of £500,000.  Of course that's on top of the $950 mn i won from bp oil, the $200 mn from volvo, the lower-body extension that would make pan blush until the end of time, and all those other emails saying how wonderfully lucky i really am, "just press that reply button" or click that link for "riches beyond your dreams."

Now in case you're wondering about any of the above, i hope the inclusion of the unicorn gave the whole game away and removed the cranial-occlussion you may have harboured as to the authenticity of these large, out of the blue, and utterly non-existent imaginary lump sums.  Without proper sand-boxing, and other measure, clicking will only win you a trojan(s), a worm(s), virus('s) or other infection on your computer, soon followed by the sad emptying of your account - if you do online banking, use credit or debit cards that is.

So if anything looks like the following (with or withou glaring errors and mistakes) for fends sake don't click or follow.  Just report as spam and delete.

Clouds of nothingness

Moralisms

Which set of moral values will those born 100 years from now subscribe to, and will we be looked on as  nothing more than dinosaurs?

First World

Now and then, som- actually this is a science fiction premise which just smacks of huge, if you haven't watched or seen, then have a look and wonder why it shouldn't be turned into a full-featured film or series.

It is called first world by mark lund.  A 20 minute fictional (sci-fi) surprising treatise  about what was discovered on the moon during the apollo missions (before the transformers got there or perhaps that's a nod to) and has been winning prizes over the globe over the past few years.

FIRST WORLD - New Official Trailer

FIRST WORLD | Myspace Video

Reminds me of waiting for a decent adaptation of lord of the rings, which thanks to all of those involved in the film trilogy, has been happily sated.

Interesting politics

Many would conscribe to the lot of politicians the title scoundrel; that paints a wide unforgiving brush, as peoples perceptions not only encompass the scoundrels but those who sincerely wish the best for their constituents - a seemingly vanishing breed!

But over the past few phasing years - whilst turning into a hermit living in one of the most populated parts of the uk - my curiosity has perked over the goings on that occur in: the usa, australia, the eu, china, russia, the galapogos, places from the arctic to the sheering wilkins ice-sheet off the antartic.  Indeed any other location around the globe except for here, in the stoloniferous, dull, hide-bound and dessicated dust-bowl of a legislature, that goes by the long-lapsed title of mother of all parliaments.  Where voting for any leg of the milkmaids stool,  dumps on you the same lap-full quantity of effluent.

I digress.

There appears to be a growing tide of do what i tell you to do as opposed to do what you want to do, as long as it doesn't harm anyone, or, do what we tell you to do - as that's the law, creeping back into the centre of things.  Always a bad sign. As it tends to be souls aiming to expunge their own lack of fortitude in those particular departments, or those who hear the voices telling them to expunge - usually with malice - those who fail to expediently expunge such badness from their horrid torrid existence, who are most ardent in ensuring the rigorous instalment of proscribing strictures.

With nearly 7bn people living on the crust, many of whom have that horrible propensity to think independently how, under any current models, will every digit of those billions actually have a workable say in anything that goes on?

They can't and they don't.

Are you a tosser?

In this day and age of technologically augmented souls racing ahead, leaving those with a wary eye wondering what to do with a blockerbook and how to stop a wittering tool; a new-old acronym is starting to bubble upwards, periodically breaking the surface of newly-termed acceptance.


Welcome to the rise of the tosser!

They used to be called the nerdy geek.  The bespectacled socially lacking in graces kid, who preferred sitting in front of a computer screen in the hopes of bringing the world to the brink of armageddon, or at the very least cracking into something juicy in preference of smooching down and out.

Over time, many grew and transformed their pet projects into multi-million plus making organisations, further enabling their nerdy geek-cred. allowing for happy wallowing in all things sci-fi; despite the daft sy-fy channel having a problem understanding what the term science fiction actually means or stands for by cancelling sci-fi shows by the bucket-load instead of undertaking serious attempts to getting them established.  You'd be left curious as to why sy-fy simply don't drop the pseudo term 'sy' - with the remainder adequately describing how many sci-fier minds feel is their current marketing approach to the genre.

However, the pervasive inclusion of technology in everyday items is remarkable.  As even our toasters now have more computing power than zx spectrums, and as for everyday computers, the only requirement to making heaps of wallowing stuff is some talent and good timing.

So why tosser?

Simple, a new breed is on the march!

Technological orientated sci-specific enlightened realists.

Cliff jumping

"Why are you going to jump off the cliff?"
"I've been told to by the fair and balanced."
"Told to jump off the cliff?"
"Yes.  They said that if all true supporters jumped off a cliff, that we'll get what we deserve!"

The now

"Not one day goes by without me staring expressionless at the face looking through the mirror;  an echo of haunted dreams, as a single thought courses its curse, 'what have you done?'   

The crawling litany of jabbing accusations, lost hopes, poisoned emotions, make way for the shrill piercing credits of some bad on-screen flop.  The sole items in the ever present catalogue are simply lines of bizarre choices, pleasured, knotted, and filleted aeon's ago.  Never fading forever carping,  'what have you done?'  

Fat-bottomed top-heavy ships moving through a force-five hurricane would fare better - with no-one at the wheel.  In this space? Navigation is simple, instinct driven, rarely examined for fear of meeting the harsh realities of self.  That ravenous entity just outside of waking vision, biding, waiting, for another moment of lapsed weakness.  A right moment to occupy, and wreck afresh its primal need of chaos.

Sluicing splashes of icy water randomly play within the mornings ritual, arcing freshly unturned memories - unwelcome visitors - into the spotlight of now..."

Another babylon 5 loss

I was, and still am, a fan of the babylon 5 sci-fi show written by j. michael straczynski, and was sadened to hear of the passing of another of it's fine actors; namely jeff conaway at the age of 60 on friday 27th may 2011, who played security chief zach allan.

Despite appearances in grease, taxi and many other shows and films, it was his portrayl of zach allan which has always remained with me.  His passing, along with that of richard biggs - playing dr stephen franklin - who passed away in 2004 at the age of 44, and andreas katsulas - playing g'kar - who passed away in 2006 at the age of 59; leaves the main cast of babylon 5 a little bit smaller, but never forgotten.

May they all meet for a great festival of spoo tasting, beyond the rim.

Lazy work-shy layabout wastrel

I wasn't going to bite, but sadly i just couldn't help myself.

More than 77% of voters (extrapolated from a 2,203 sampled group) think long-term benefit claimants should do community work in return for their benefits.  69% of voters (again from the same 2,203 sample) think claimants should lose their benefits; yet completely fail to mention buy-to-let landlords making a reasonable earner off the sponging sub-classes.  51% (again of the 2,203 sample, so 1,102 of them) indicated that no-one should get any help unless they had paid into the system through national insurance and tax.  There is no mention made of how long those hoping to get help should have paid into the system, or even if there's a lower contribution or time limit to the contributions wastrels have to reach, before been deemed worthy of the splintered crutch.

After some moments pondering on the remarkableness of spinning whilst flying, another thought hit me.

Why leave it at that!

For example, I'm remarkably careful at home - now that i'm more teetotaller than alco-binger.  I don't smoke indoors nor do i set fire to pans whilst fast asleep in the bath; so surely now i won't need to pay anything towards a fire-service?  I rarely go out at night, and avoid rowdy places - somewhat difficult in one of the most populated boroughs in london.  So probably shouldn't pay anything towards the police or ambulance services either.  As i have no wish for children of my own, i don't see why anything of mine should be paid towards schools or the education of those who have numerous offspring, or towards those over 18 who should, by then, be able to support themselves in the betterment of their intellect so ensuring they're able to pay into the tax kitty, and so build up a golden-pot for their inevitable frequent bouts of unemployment.

I don't swim in the sea nor do i boat, climb mountains nor walk fells; so lop some off the air-sea rescue services.  I don't want trident so cut a few pounds (say one sixty-seven millionth) off that.  As for the royal family, if it saves a bob or two, we should use cardboard cut-outs.  Do away with parliament (the buildings), and let them set-up a marquee in westminster square - now that the demonstrators for peace have been evicted for making the place untidy.  It would certainly cut down on the excessive spendthrift nature of today’s governments.  As i'm always in 100% top-tip condition, i shouldn't have to contribute to the health service either!

There must be some other areas ripe for swingeing cuts?

Something else...

Oh yes, why are we paying so much extra on food when the profits are creamed off in bonuses?  Why not give small-holder farmers a decent slice of the gold-dust and at the same time reduce the cost of food, so the increasing poor can still afford nutritious fare.  We are, after all, supposedly living in enlightend civilised times.

Despite the increase in commodity prices, food companies are still raking in billions of annual profits.  So let's do away with supermarkets - apart from the co-ops.  All communities should be forced to grow their own food, erect fences around each postcode, to keep out -  or in - any trouble and simply use air-drops for occasional essential supplies and those times a swat team are required.  Naturally such aid would only be given to those who have paid their full tax whack, everyone else can simply stand by and watch behind electrified barbed-wire laser mounted fences.

Hm, what about the sewage system?  Dig up all the pipes.  Surely those in cities are subsidising those in rural areas who also have the same access to just as good a water and sewage system?

So that's the first swing of the fiscal-responsibility bat.  I presume the return swing should be aimed at those corporations claiming they're not making enough money so need to cost-cut (decimate the workforce) whilst paying less tax towards the country's coffers than one of their cleaners (allegedly), or less tax than someone on the minimum wage, whilst awarding themselves 7 or 8 figure sums.  Yes i know they're worth it, after all it takes a certain mentality and group-think to dream up money-making scheme after money-making scheme, gouging the maximum possible cash from the herd - sorry, "customer", without causing a rude awakening in the horde.

But before i continue straying wildly, why are 5.5 mn adults not working?  From reading headlines an assumption could be falsely reached that they are all "lazy work-shy layabout wastrels!"  Hardly factual, but hawks tend to tread warily around actual facts when defending the indefensible, somewhat reminiscent a vincent price character being forced to suck on something cross-shaped and garlicky!

So why aren't they working, and why do papers like the daily trail happily castigate the unworking trolls in the barbecuing glare of their readers early morning trembling espresso's  - like baiting growling lions by throwing rotten meat at them?  Plain and simply, money.

Not that many years ago, a brighter future seemed but a blinking dream away - twinned as it was with the threat of imminent nuclear annihilation.  A time when computers (all 5 of them) would herald so much free time, that people wouldn't know what to do.  That we'd all be working 1 day a week, not only to improve ourselves; but to galvanise society as a whole.  An event so grand in our evolution, it would shove humanity eagerly towards the next stage of development.

Quite.

Billions still starve, 1 in 7 of the worlds population live on less than $1 a day.  All the while the globes resources are continually plundered to provide those of us who can afford it with 20+ choices of everything, whilst a growing (small) band 'just can't manage' without their 10+ figure bank balances.  Millions die of preventable diseases.  Millions die from preventable industrial accidents, and let's not talk about the wars fuelled by weapons manufactured in less than a dozen countries, used in wars 99% of the worlds population don't want, couldn't be bothered with, but are expertly manoeuvred into some sort of side by the clarion calls of nationalism.

I believe i'm straying.  Back to the uk and the lazy bones.

Does their face fit?  Do they have the skills? Maybe not, or maybe there just aren't 5.5 million jobs in the country?  After all why pay someone a higher minimum wage, when you can outsource your now flexible and float-able off-shoots to greener luscious pastures with less wages to pay and less requirements when it comes to sacking time?

I noticed a change the other day, when making a call to one of the annoying companies i use.  Initially i couldn't quite put my finger on it.  Simply thinking that this is new, a well travelled and cambridge educated (drop-out) was now biding his time by phone-answering and waiting for the next torrent of abuse by an annoyed customer.  Until somewhere during the course of the conversation his south african lilt finally pierced my perception, and language recognition finally kicked in.  South africa is still a functioning country - despite many who said it would tumble into a bonfire of flames; and whilst it might be party to less stringent labour rules, there's a strong possibility it has cheaper labour costs than mumbai.

At the same time that particular penny melted, so did the recognition my monthly subscriptions hadn't reduced to reflect this change (as cost and cheapness is king once a business grows past the 'mom & pop' stage), that it started me wondering where all those fiscal savings, which are now been made, were been shovelled?

I hearby stick my digit in the air and admit to a slight error in my earlier reading of the poll sampling numbers.  It wasn't, as i indicated earlier in this ramble, a sample size of 2,203 but actually 2,022; the percentages however remain the same.  An area the piece failed to include, which would have been interesting, is where on the disappearing(!) strata of the classless society ruler did the respondents hail from?

A comment from the usa i read in the trial summed it up succinctly:

"There is very little decent paid work left in the UK now. "Globalization' has put pay to the UK being any way productive. China, India have been given it all. The skills needed have now gone and are lost. Aspirations and ambition are things of the past, like hard work, how can 'hard work' be a means to anything when most of that earned money is taken in taxes to pay for the army employed by the state and local 'authorities' and the remaining wages keep people in poverty? Idiots who shout out "I'd work for nothing because I'm proud" are missing the point. You work to live. There is nothing clever about being a slave. 21st century UK is a disgrace. Over 30 years the dole culture has been allowed to grow because the politicos know the real harsh truth that UK is finished economically. I hear 'training' mentioned. Training for what exactly? Or do they mean those open New Deal prison schemes to 'punish' the unemployed and line the pockets of the private rogues operating them. Appalling."

Gambino, USA, 21/5/2011 03:54

"If there's not a revolution soon, we'll all just end up in the drink."

The number of job hunters to jobs here in the uk is purportedly put at 37:1.  What's the betting that if such a move was ever implemented, that orange-suited compliance would be the preferred solution of the day; by those whose idea of a hard time is the bother of finding a crease in their favourite shirt.

I can categorically (ahem, cough) state, my head was in an acid bath for the period as i was trying to clean my tongue,  and so played no part in such a silly poll.  It's not my fault i have to lay around around all day with my feet up sipping gin through a straw!  That's just no fun at all, let me tell you.

Bringing light to the eating of cardboard

I do hope you've pooped your daily allowance of cardboard - and i'm not talking about those dry bran cereals - but actual refined wood pulp, otherwise known as microcrystalline cellulose.

When you browse the aisles, picking through the plethora of vitamin supplementation, do you pounce on the bottle of vitamins that contains in it's ingredients list, the term 'refined wood pulp', or do you plump for the far more scientific sounding term (and so must be good for you) 'microcystalline cellulose'?

What sort of wood pulp? Freshly hewn from virginal forest wood pulp? Recycled wood pulp that had been used by those unfortunate not to have permanent shelter for years kind of wood pulp?  Wormy wood pulp?

Just wood pulp.  Hmm, more roughened and crumpled paper with my steak please.

End of the count

Well 24 hours after the rapture, it's all looking a bit too depressingly similar!

Yippee!

Now if i could only think of something that could make me $74 mn, by just opening my mouth and spouting nonsense... how many minutes to go until the 21st december 2012?

Beglad

Taking a break from studying - especially as headphones are now permanently attached - i had a sound abuse itch that required scratching; so in best copy and paste mode i popped together 'beglad' over the weekend. 

Compared to the other motley tracks i've cobbled together over the past months, this one's a smidgeon (a miniscule smidge mind) improved - with the proviso it's listened through headphones. 

Eventually, i'll listen to my output through speakers or even decent headphones.  Until that day arrives, be warned.  Listening through speakers over headphones is only recommended for the brave, or (for those like myself) the foolhardy.

You can find this little ear-bleeder in the reverbnation widget on the right hand side.

Now onto other matters... nick clegg in it again, bees making a comeback, eurovision nightmares, politician in fiddling drama as strad goes missing... 

Missing things

A wedding and an assassination?

Damn that thames mudbank.

I have nothing against or for royalty, they are after all royal by the appointment of the imaginary sky being and so have nothing at all to do with any underhand skulduggery, wars, plots, machinations, or even schemes.  Plus it's always good to have new blood pumped into a family, otherwise it's simply a re-run of the "hills have eyes."

Ah yes assassinations.  After trillions spent bombing the blazes out of two countries, allowing the priceless destruction of antiquities, imprisoning thousands, monitoring our every move for the sake of our security, allowing the tainting of a wide-spread of people, trampling over cultural sensibilities; all of a sudden when it comes to osama bin laden, they get all coy and pay an obsequious nod to traditions by undertaking a burial (or dunking) at sea.  

Did they stick him in a gun turret, or a torpedo tube and pop him out that way?  

The pendulum.

The tides of spring

It has been a while, and i tried stuffing my head in a pillow, in a thames mud-bank, but all to no avail; everywhere i looked, nature was at it.

Rampantly going at it, hell for leather, hammer ‘n tongs, the precursor acts of next-generation off-spring production – and that’s just some of the residents!

Yes, i was once more loitering by the door and sipping on a spoonful of something which, at a distant juncture probably did resemble and taste like coffee, but now had more in keeping with old saloon bar floors (thank you red mountain clone), but definitely minding my own business – apart from cocking an ear to the wind for a passing bus crash, or low flying police chase ‘copter, or even for the tell-tale whine of hi-velocity gun shots, it’s that sort of town.

That wasn’t to be.  Instead my vision was spoilt by lacrymal bluetits perched on a branch within spitting distance, chirping and chirruping without any type of documentation, molesting one another there and then in full light of day without so much as a bird-box attempt at modesty!

It made me pine for a catapult, or even a small trebuchet.  Indeed, anything which would have put an end to such needless displays of sexual proliferation – the penalty of having a couple of light years distance and 180º degree turnaround from my previous existence.

The bluetits on their own would have been bad enough.  But no, nature has to continue poking its rear-end in to my face, oblivious to the fact that i’m gouging my eyes out whilst screaming “bugger off!”

The bluetits are soon followed by pigeons who are coo-ing, billing and mounting each other like the apocalypse is just around the corner – due to a bill about to become law stating that all rubbish must be bagged, covered, and disposed of upon penalty of, or else.  Even the neighbours cat has started licking my fingers whenever I bend down to stroke it, then poking it’s bottom in to the air, purring and happily growling.  Then when I walk away, it digs it’s claws in to me as if to say, “where do you think your going? You haven’t even started yet!”

So yes spring is well and truly in the air, the saps rising and bouts of humping merry making will continue in earnest.  After all, lots of people are going to be very very busy getting the population up to and past that 10bn mark.

Runny choc-pennies

Amongst the bark – deadwood

Mono refractions

Sunny days

It’s a wonderful gorgeous sunny day outside; luckily i have the curtains closed and the windows open a crack to let as little of it in as possible.

Roll on winter.

Old brains new technology

Eventually it had to happen, there's nothing worse than squinting at a screen pressing the wrong button, and not realising for hours.

Obviously there's a need for bigger glasses, as there's nothing nothing worse than posting something that's nowhere near cocked.

London Buses trial new equipment to tackle air pollution (according to tfl)

There’s a bigger picture here that i really must be missing, perhaps even a dot or two which have obviously whizzed past my obliviousness.

Especially when i read the following statement:

“We are making huge strides in cleaning up the Capital's bus fleet, not least by developing the New Bus for London, which will pump out 40 per cent less pollutants than a standard, traditional diesel bus. “

Boris Johnson, Mayor of London, http://www.tfl.gov.uk/corporate/media/newscentre/19803.aspx

For those residents unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of a bus stands, i wholeheartedly apologise if the above statement caused you to burst out laughing whilst sipping a cup of coffee, causing you to spray the contents across the room, which unfortunately arced over poor tiddles who jumped back in fright, hitting the wall a split second after the liquid hit the power socket, leaving you now sadly tiddled poor.  It was not my intention.  From the statement, we do though appear to occupy a different universe from those making the pronouncements and dreaming up the plans. 

I’m sure if drivers switched their engines off instead of leaving them ticking over for 5-20+ minutes at a time: spring, summer, autumn or winter; a large 40 per cent bit of those freely floating carcinogenic particulates would be spared finding a lung or two to nest in.  But that would mean managers and directors actually doing something really er., uhm, oh pro-active?  Like some sort of study (for once), to actually find out why they’re getting complaints from people living in the vicinity of stands and why the levels of pollution in the vicinity of stands/neighbouring roads are higher than normal for far more days of the year than other areas bar airports or ports.

Somewhere down the line, i might have mentioned a nagging doubt regarding the environmental trumpeting by tfl of their wonderful green credentials and the chummy back-patting at the annual bus awards.   They should instead introduce a ‘polluter of the year’ award for the most offending garage, manager and driver; i believe there are at least six in this locale who’d be in with a high chance of taking first place.

In the meantime, for those residents in the immediate vicinity of bus stands (remember not the stops, just the stands for now) and in london, here’s a very little helpful ditty which crossed my polluted paws…

 

March of the horse’nuts

Yes it’s that time of year again, when the horse-chestnuts are leafing, rising and growing with gusto and all still in the same pot.

This year a few extra layers of soil was added to keep them sufficiently bedded, and a good few litres of nutrients to compensate for the cramped conditions; but here’s the current progress in a few shots.

19th April 2011 – update

I decided to take some measurements to see how well they’ve come on (or not considering the sized pot they’re all in), and how long they’ll have to live before expiring, if not separated.

There are: 2 @ ~100cm, 2 at ~60cm, 2 at ~30cm and a straggler hovering around the 20cm mark; all measurements taken from the top of the soil.  The pot itself measures 34.5 cm inner diameter with a depth of 34.5cm, not exactly spacious for seven trees, but they haven’t died yet.   Now I just need to find a local group of ninja gardeners who’d know what do with at least five of them.

Strike 1 - census office

The much trumpeted last ever census ever to be conducted in the uk, because the country's too poor ever to attempt it again, promptly arrived on 27th March 2011.

Being an online-hawk (albeit with small wings that periodically furiously flap), I decided to complete the form on net a couple of days after receiving everything in the post, and well before the cut-off date which was officially highlighted in bold if my memory is to be believed.

I didn't, however, click that final submit button, as I had no idea whether anyone would be staying here at any time ever again, let alone overnight on the 27th March 2011.  The likelihood was no-one, but if forced to answer by having a pair of hot-tongs waved in front of my face, i'd have probably indicated whilst sweating profusely that the probability was 99.9999999% that no one would be.  In reality it turned out i was 100% correct, I was indeed here;  but at the time, a few weeks before the deadline, I didn't know; and wanting to be a dutiful citizen I specifically - especially after reading the blurb which said you could complete as much as possible, and then whatever you had filled in but not yet committed would be used as your answer - waited, before even thinking about pressing the 'button'.  A button presumably put there for clairvoyants.

So everything was filled in.  Apart from that bit, because I didn't know. After all it wasn't the 27th.

The 28th arrived.  I went, 'bugger!'

Imagine my surprise then when, on the 13th April 2011 (yesterday), whilst cursing my environment, the doorbell sprang into life.

Normally, after picking up the intercom, you're either blasted by wailing shrieks, squeaks, whistles or pops, as the "saw them coming" system on the one hand attempts to connect both ends via different communications protocols and magnificently fails, to the other of pretending it's not really a working system, and showers you in silence.

I knew something was up when I heard a crystal clear and chirpy voice pipe through the wires saying, "I'm sharna from the census office.  We don't have a record of you completing the census."

"What?" I retorted.  Thinking they're happy allowing their underlings to poison you, but don't fill in a form and its "oh, we'll be down on you like a truck of cement as obviously you're a naughty citizen, you, yes you!"

"I'm from the census office.  We haven't received your form."

"I filled it in online."

"You filled it in online?"

Oh and a parrot.

"Yes."

"Okay", a brief moment of hesitancy aimlessly drifted before the official sprang back to life.  “I'll mark it down then," and she was gone.

This was all undertaken via an intercom which normally decides it's not going to co-operate.  Think of the lifts in the hitchhikers guide, but far less friendly for most of the time.

Moral?  Always take a a hammer to something electro-mechanical, it saves fretting about it turning into skynet01.

The big bailout scam « Political Economy 101

"Meanwhile, the trillions poured into the big banks since 2008, instead of going to cash-starved small business or being used to build infrastructure and to create jobs, have largely helped fuel a new stock market bubble. The extraordinary rise in the value of companies such as Facebook and Zynga provides a worrying parallel with the dotcom bubble of 2000."

The big bailout scam « Political Economy 101

Moving on

The only thing worse than a whiner is a whiner who never shuts up.

So enough with the self-obsessed navel gazing.  It’s time to dig out the crystal and see what the remaining 3/4’s of the year has to offer…  damned tumbleweeds, get everywhere!

Neighbours of noise or simply noise averse?

When you briefly experience the wonderful peace and alacrity of quietness (don’t worry i’ll return to form shortly), it’s worth bearing in mind that unless you’re in a retreat - which is bored into the side of a mountain - that peace is just the minute gap before the next oncoming tide of a skyscraper-sized noise tsunami; especially when it involves fillies just out from uni and moving into their first flat together.

Heavy footfalls, high heels, stomping around, lots of ‘mates over’ are now de rigueur.  Which wouldn’t normally be a problem except in those (i.e., this) flat/house conversions, which once had luscious carpet covering the bareness but which greedy landlords ripped out, leaving exposed floorboards that people flock and ‘coo’ over, admiring the fact that they ‘look so pretty’, ignoring what doesn’t lay beneath.

Naturally provisions exist in leases precisely to alleviate this problem (generally), except when the vast majority of people are either unaware the problem their usually simple everyday noise is creating exists, or the issue is not brought to their attention; as opposed to any wilful or malicious intent.

So when you bring it to their attention, verbally and or formally, and the noise continues, you begin to wonder whether there’s more going on than an element of unawareness.  Perhaps it’s simply the case they don’t give a damn and further actions are nothing less than wilful maliciousness. 

A tedious probability?  As iterated to in the title; is it neighbours who are been noisy or am i just been overly sensitive?

Figures indicate that at least 95,000 (after doing a bit of research my previous use of 2 mn appears wildly wide of the uk mark and it should have been covering the  eu) people, have an issue with noise and noisy neighbours, severe and pressing enough that after spending years of battling, grinds them into moving for the sake of their health.  Because as satisfying as fighting your corner is, every now and then there comes a time when you ponder why you’re still bashing your head against a brick wall.  Then as dizziness caused by exsanguination starts to take its toll, you realise the two-steps towards resolution you thought you were making, actually turns out to be you moving backwards, at a rapid rate of knots.  It’s just the flashing change of scenery which has confused you.

I’m one of those stubborn folk – something which happens when you live next to an increasingly noisy venue, and next to a stand with an increasing number of buses utilising the stand without drivers switching off their engines, and now with added noisy neighbour icing; that you either throw your hands in the air, give up and move on, or fiercely dig your heels in (as opposed to down - as the current clippity-clopping neighbours above are prone to do) and say enough really is enough. 

Everything (on paper at least) says this shouldn’t be happening.  So why have other leaseholders simply let things slide?  Because it’s easier than putting up a struggle.  Especially when it seems to be an on-going struggle with seemingly no end in sight. 

Yet, one resident who has dug his heels in over a compactor placed against the party wall (somehow allowed by the council) has managed to have it removed.  Yes, an industrial sized rubbish compactor that members of staff at the venue and its operators took extreme pleasure in assuring caused as much physically noise as possible – bar bashing it into the wall, was placed within touching distance of flats, and neither they nor the council could understand that residents had a problem with it.

When it comes to the care of resident’s hearing and ability to get a decent nights sleep, it seems conservative run boroughs (from the evidence so far) appear to stand miles above labour or liberal run boroughs – which is odd, considering how much we’re constantly bombarded with the message that labour councils are for the people – which i suppose they are, except when it comes to residents managing to obtain a good nights sleep.

Now the problem with many british flats, homes and apartments is that way too many of them were built at a time when it was the genteel thing to generally not carry on unless you lived in the slums - where that sort of behaviour was expected.  Over the years slum areas were destroyed and re-built with better looking but still (by today's sound standards) crummy sound considerations, where anything over and beyond the sound of brushing your teeth’s magnified to a point where simon bates would be using a pile-driver and not a knife.

In today's world, many in the west would like to think we’re remarkably  civilised, yet reality shows the law of the jungle and a dog-eat-dog mentality is in force, well, and flourishing greater than ever.

For those of a mind to know more, noise action week is rapidly approaching.

Nothing ever changes

Meeting, chatting, shooting the breeze and going out, i.e. dating are things which have interested me less and less;  so much so i’m now roughly 95% (give or take a percentage point) different in my social and even personal behaviour, which is odd, as nothing ever changes!

Perhaps i haven’t stopped smoking 40 a day, nor drinking half a brewery, nor clubbing from dawn until dusk and having more encounters in a week than people had in year.  No, if parallel universes do exist i probably haven’t stopped doing any of those pleasurable (at the time) things at all, but which now - in this particular theoretical brane at any rate, no-longer holds any alluring interest.  Which can’t be, as that indicates that a change, a definite change - as i no longer do any of those things, has taken place in this one. 

Day does not turn into night.  The movement of the planet’s atmosphere is not occurring because the earth isn’t spinning and neither are there hot nor cold areas as every area’s the same.  Because nothing ever changes.  Indeed I can’t be typing this as that would imply some chemical and or mechanical changes must be taking place to bring this about, which can’t be, as nothing ever changes, so therefore it isn’t. 

Indeed you, my dear reader can’t be a reader, as reading  this would once again infer something (in this case photons) are changing in their position, hitting your retina and causing electrical changes to be transmitted through nerve endings to the chemical goop encased in your cranium, or being transformed (changed) into signals which are then electrically transmitted (electrons changing in position) as sound.  All indicating some type of process, which would surely mean some sort of change was or is or has taken place?

No of course not, as nothing ever changes. 

Everything remains the same and we’re not in an expanding universe because the big bang never happened - as shown by this momentary fevered dalliance with reality, which is nothing more than the idle burp of some sleeping deity; which can’t be the case, as that too would indicate something has changed, and as we know, nothing ever changes, so the above assumptions are simply just nonsense, which is itself a change so therefore cannot be true.

We’re born (which we really can’t be as that too would involve change) with exactly the same ideas that we cling onto as we grow and mature (but how can that be if we never change), until we reach some mythical point of existence to decide, or not, to pop out of this never changing, never expanding stage of being.  Which is never ever changing anyway because there is never any change.

Perhaps it’s a transformational phase? 

Next: noisy neighbours part i

Man the sound ‘parts!

Ah yes summer-time has arrived, the clocks have gone forward, easter’s nearly here and obtaining a decent nights sleep over a weekend (or even during the week) disappears up brixton academy’s chuff.

Yes, brixton academy is once more expelling audio fumes from its backside and causing sleepless nights to residents in the immediate vicinity… deploy the noise officers, who use a very strange subjective level of measurement (or they did until retirement set in), which would see a church paraded through the courts at the complaint and behest of a couple of people over a month or so; yet in this triangle complaints have been salvoed to the council for years and the only change (which i’ve perceived) is an increase in the deep bass frequencies we’re bombarded with, more events, and more of them finishing after midnight.

How loud?  See the many previous posts.

But when you wear ear-plugs which are then covered by headphones, through which one is listening to loud audio, and whilst unable to hear the clipity-clopping of neighbours above but can still hear music from the venue despite all windows & doors closed, then in my very small book of certainties, that classifies as loud!

This morning I discovered I wasn’t the only one who had come to the conclusion that the noise was extreme.  During the night other residents had also objected to the council.  Which makes me wonder about todays benefit.  If the venue produces more vibrations than the country experiences in a year, then (and i could be showing a cynical mind here) how is it capable of considerate action towards those unfortunate souls in the earthquake/tsunami/nuclear fall-out zones – with it simply not sounding like there’s a kerching sound attached?

Instead of paying £40 or more (with the touts in operation) to the greedy lot above, and partying over the deaths of thousands; contemplate on the randomness of it all, say a few words for them, and donate instead.

Godless tsunamis

So after the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear cloud making its way around the world, we now have a russian director saying god did it to them.


Not sure why god (unless it's an acronym for something far more sinister and other-worldly - as we’re being conditioned to believe anything otherworldy’s out to treat us as food - that's operating out of a quantum-bridged molehill somewhere), would decide the time was right to particularly smite the north-east japanese over, say, territory controlled by russian or italian mafia or colombian drug-lords, or even politicians - of most countries - or the billionaires fleecing the world economy and making the vast majority poorer by any stretch of inflationary hyperbole.

Indeed by that former stretch, nikita sergeevich mikhalkov imaginary smiting machine should by now have summoned forth a volcano the size of olympus mons, which in burping forth its damndest destroyed most of western europe (or at least the city of london), with yellowstone following close behind in its fiftieth year of birth-pangs.

We should i presume be lucky in counting nikita sergeevich mikhalkov imaginary smiting machine as indeed imaginary, otherwise this rock would now be a lifeless parchment of baked real-estate, circling a constantly enraged and broiling red star minus anything worthwhile to smite... oh i see, we're the smitebots!

Hue & cry

On the one hand: london shooting leaves girl, 5, and man in critical condition, 117 killings took place 2009-2010; whilst on the other: 5,000 londoners die of pollution a year.

Which figures are you more frightened and scared of?

Heaven nirvana sto'vo'ko forefend

Just for a moment, consider.

Why would any being (who wasn’t narcissistically looking at themselves through their nether regions or a complete control freak) who created trillions of fast moving objects, start smiting the inhabitants of one trillionth of a trillion or some other small number on a spinning ball of mud in a backwater of a galaxy which will soon (in universal time) smash into another galaxy of similar size, which will reset those galaxies biological clocks to zero unless any sentient and intelligent inhabitants pop out and off sometime before that all takes place, be concerned whether those inhabitants pay him/her/it any obsequious homage whatsoever, or even be bothered if they knew he/she/it existed?

I can create a black hole, but you aren’t paying me a tenth of your earnings - so you’ll burn in everlasting fire, and so on.  Sounds like something a financier would dream up…

Perhaps the creator so many religionists' believe in started life as a banker!

4 something lighter

Every now and then something pops along, crossing my scrubbed vision and warped but strangely playful mind.

Not a regular listener of nine inch nails, nor 50 cent; but this particular mashup combo had me tapping the slightly less jaundiced leg in a semblance of time for quite a couple of days, before the novelty disappeared into a puff of diesel fumes.

TfL and the pyres of fire

I tried not posting, but just couldn’t help myself.


First off, thoughts to all of those caught under the triple hit in Japan.  I seriously doubt many other country’s citizens would have behaved so, civilised, when faced with such calamities.

Second, getting ready to eat my hat, as those wringing nations might actually do something before the last squeaking cry of freedom is extinguished in libya.  Just leaves china, saudi arabia, zimbabwe, ivory coast, north korea, or just any country where peoples have demonstrated the exact same cry as those in libya, but whom are without any strategic value whatsoever, and the international community simply defends them  because it’s the right thing to do…

Oh yes, back to tfl.

I have arrived at the sunny conclusion that tfl cares not one jot, not a single dried fig, for the residents haplessly caught in the vicinity of imposed bus stands (and not, in case some people get confused, bus stops) otherwise residents would not be up in arms over those drivers who intransigently continue to sit idling at the stand with their vehicles engines ticking over, and belching bilious clouds of pollution in all directions -as though fossil fuels would last until the end of time!

As my attempts at burning bridges, and detonating the struts and supports has been 98% successful, I spend some of that newly released time looking up stuff from all over the globe trying to see a whole.  In this case, I have taken to looking at air quality measurement snapshots every couple of hours for the area south of the river, with findings pointing to the fact that when the wind direction’s from the n, nne, or nnw, the measurement at the station is higher when compared to its nearest neighbouring stations (actually to most of them), whilst the air in the 0-50m zone smells as though you’ve attached a hose to the exhaust of your car, and left the engine on with the window half open.  Sadly our windows are closed; but with hundreds of bus terminations at the stand and most with their their engines left running for up to 20 minutes, we’re forced to breathe in more toxic vapour than a smoker on  40+ cigarettes a day.

Don’t forget, it was only 4,300 people who died in london last year from air pollution, yet look at the fuss government makes about potential terrorists under the bed when their own actions kill far more of their own citizens!  So who’s going to mind if a few more pesky troublesomes are added to the pyre; obviously, so far, no-one.  Although i’d imagine if 4,300 young londoners were shooting and stabbing each other in a frenzy of blood letting, the papers would be wetting themselves in a virtuous circle of vexatious apoplexy, and a national emergency called.

Court action would appear to be the only option, as polite diplomacy’s turned out to be a dead-duck.  Everyone (in authority) tells us it shouldn’t be happening, the drivers know it shouldn’t be happening -when they know they’re been monitored they practically glide into the stand, switch off their engines the minute their vehicle comes to a stop, and glide out of the stand when it’s time to start their route.  Once monitoring has ceased engines are again at full throttle (amazing how word gets around); but the report back to hq says how wonderfully quiet everything is.

If tfl were a neighbour they’d be done for poisoning with careless intent and the proud owner of an arm-full of tattooed asbos’ they’d no doubt be proudly showing off at every opportunity.

So tfl’s new motto?  We would care, if we could give a…

Queen bee

A bee, which at this time of year and by its size alone makes it a queen bee, flew from behind the radiator before being liberated into the poisonous air of lambeth.

I was happily minding my own business, alternating between the disasters in sendai, the murder fields of ivory coast and the blood-letting in libya (watch the soon to be hand-wringing of pious nations) after mg gains full-control, and listening to the low level of corporate convictions when it comes to manslaughter, when what sounded like a small helicopter taking off filled the room. 

Indeed it was.  A queen bee had popped from god knows where, as all the holes (bar any behind the radiator) have over the past few years been studiously filled, and i seriously doubt it had silently crawled in through the open window in the bathroom at the back of the property to launch itself from the floor,once it had reached the front room!

Initial thoughts of squashing it quickly fled, as despite my apparent general loathing of humanity (which really isn’t the case), I do like and enjoy nature as long as it isn’t crawling all over me or trying to consume me; so i quickly thought about retrieving a glass bottle before it disappeared from sight somewhere, when it buzzed up a storm zooming up the net, eventually becoming trapped between it and the window until I opened the window allowing its flight to freedom - once it traversed one of the most polluted roads in london.

Ah yes proof…

Moment

Use the moment well.

Laws of the righteous

“Hm, blasphemy laws... innovative legislation protecting the existence of the imaginary all powerful from those unworthy to wash his armpits - let alone gaze on his physog, by the fanatical but misguided deluded.”

Potty about poet’s poety

Hope for wee lesser morsels after all!

Obvious picture reference?

2011–the missed years

“Happy 2011… what do you mean it’s gone, and i’ve been asleep?

Happy 2012”

Oh the peace (relative) and joy of xmas

The one time of year when there’s no blasted buses with incontinent bus drivers incapable of switching off their engines (regardless of winter, spring, summer autumn) , no squeals of engines nor the grating sound of brakes as they park up, no belching clouds of smoke nor invisible clouds of cancerous gas, no noise, no pollution, no vibrations to worry about. 

However in 2011, we shall be concentrating on recording the offending drivers and officials who feel above the regulations (there to not annoy residents) they appear happy to flout!

So to all able to enjoy or not this time, peace and happiness to one and all.

Seasonal greets

Xmas?

Oh dear, that time of year’s once more arrived. 

Now that I managed to squeak my assessment in before the deadline, I can devote a bit of time to conjure up some imagery that conveys the finest of my thoughts on the prickly season!

Keep the leaks alive!

Wikileaks in switzerland - http://46.59.1.2/

Jobsworth

“…we’re living in an age of the jobsworths.  Whom if they momentarily thought outside of their hide-bound heads, would explode in a shower of glittery shiny sparks.”

Gritty U's

Sigh, what to say about sgu?
Brilliant.  Excellent character portrayals, a nice departure from its sugar-coated predecessors.   For those who have never seen its predecessors, using the current sgu series as a benchmark would leave you pondering whether the entire franchise encompasses nothing but doom and gloom, whilst the cast are all trying to romp back home in a holed handcart; all firmly held in a rigid fist that's squeezing the bejesus out of them before spitting the remnants like so much used sticky nasty tobacco - and that's in a happy episode!
This (series) is/was turning out to be one of my favourties sg's, and they'd better ensure there's a sufficient number of series's down the pipeline to keep us stalwart gits happy  - otherwise, executives, a crate of kinos'll be shoved into places the sun doesn't have any place shining  - nicely of course!

Leave of absence

I have temporarily taken a leave of absence from the linux world as i've been extensively using w7 on a new laptop; the experience has, so far, proven remarkably reasonable - obviously much has been purloined from both mac and linux worlds but i have so far being amazed that the os (a msoft piece of work) hasn't yet fallen over - seven days and counting.
Despite the aura of reasonableness i shall (once the hdd is upgraded) dual boot with a linux distro, if only because i have this nagging suspicion that eventually something will happen on the w7 side that will entail me losing everything i may have forgotten to back-up.
Unlike linux which can work on a sixpence, w7 is a resource hog.  However, i could finally get around to ditching xp in favour of w7, eventually.

Tagged

It probably won't be long before we (poor people) are forced to have one. After all, it would be far cheaper than having to send out cards or keys, or fiddle around and about with id papers - simply pop into your local iap (identification access point), wave your hand over a screen that instantly updates and authorises you, synchronising your identity and all your information.

Handy for when you've succumbed to that "one for the road" tipple and need to be dragged from a hedge by the emergency services!

Oddities

Not sure that i'm totally content with scribefire as a windows writer replacement (one of the rapidly shrinking products that i still miss from the windows world), as it's handling of pages, images and general formatting, still isn't quite there - passable for basic stuff, unless your fully conversant with html, but for those who faint at the first sight of a command-like line, it's not quite there.

Noises from the arse-end!

Apart from the odd bit of chewing gum thrown into the garden, takeway boxes and the like, oh yes the increasing boy-racers (according to the recordings), and buses braking for all their worth with engines on and still idling and about as environmentally friendly as any suv (showing once more that tfl are talking out their end, yet again) , an all-nighter soon to be on at the venue, et all... apart from all of that, i'm feeling chipper. 

Perhaps it's nothing more than the taste of winter around the corner.

The new same old difference

Let the games begin...

Bonfire of the sensibilities

Hack and slash and burn, and make them pay, and cut cut cut!

If you're poor that is, or struggling by.

An extra 2.5% of costs will be added onto anything already at 17.5%: clothes, prepared foods, telecoms; if you're budget is already 100%, spoken for, what options apart from reduction in food, or clothes do you have?  There are already 75* people chasing every job vacancy, so even if you have a first in higher humanities tuff luck and will soon be donning your new condem puce one-size fits all jumpsuit, showing that you are not only helping the community by working for your benefit, but checked to ensure that your bags are packed (for when your number's up), and they ship you out to the most pest infested, damp rotted, single-glazed, asbo condemned, cctv covered, tourist free, locations in the country!

Welcome to the brand new world of dickens.  Tour guides not required.

Outside?

"You do realise there's a world outside?"

"Only in your dark fevered imagination."

Vibrating ninnies

When numerous residential properties are subject to vibrations causing cracks to appear, due to deep intense vibrations from a club venue, and its associated acts usage of coaches parked less than 9ft from residents premises, and after growing complaints from residents - many of whom have lived here for years - you really would think a council would take a pro-active stance, that a council would even turn up and take not only normal 'a' or 'c' weighted measurements but also conduct specific low frequency analysis so keeping up with the increasing trend for deep low bass bone-jarring music replacing the normal higher dulcet tones as venues side-step noise regulations by not peaking the previous and now outdated normal monitoring ranges.

Indeed, as low frequency travels further through the ground and structures, a growing tide of disaffected residents should provide sufficient stimulus so that officers can finally show that they really are looking out for the 'little wee guys'; instead of which, here we appear to be the meat flung to the lions.

Perhaps concern for residents is the norm in many other boroughs.  Even in this one, reports of churches and bars being taken to court, shows such concern obviously occurs here too - except for (and i might have mentioned it before) this peculiar little triangle, where the cry seems more akin to "liquidate the residents, especially those who dare complain", and as staff boy racers treat the little street like a race track, the venue treats the area like an open air park, bus drivers  treat it like an exhaust testing site, and coaches for acts at the venue treat it like a vibration testing pad, i sometimes wonder what role the old ted knight & co's days played in rendering the situation as badly as it is.

One good thing appears to be coming out of this (if having your health harmed can be viewed as a good thing), is my decision to do an environmental course; so i can work out - instead of just wondering - exactly who officers in environmental departments are supposed to be protecting, as in this case they don't appear to give a damn about the people who live here.

A case in point.  What effect does a 12+ ton coach have, when parked less than 9ft from your living room, with engine on and running for hours at a time with associated vibrations and belching out noxious exhaust?  

Sadly despite numerous years of complaints to the council, apparently not one measurement has been taken by them, as apparently there is no records showing that any complaint has been investigated, that any visit to the premise has been done, that any action by the council has occured (over 20 years), nothing. So a quick peek, at a foi request, showed up. Nothing. We both sat there in hysterics at the slapstick nature of it all.  But there is, however, an air monitoring station on the main road where the nearest residential property is hundreds of metres away.  Naturally they could have positioned it down and round the corner, but do you really want residents to know just how badly polluted the area really is? After all, they might want you to do something.

You generally can't expect an entertainment venue to do or know any better, it's like a dog that has the urge to lick, it does what it does.  The council on the other hand should.

Argos

It was refreshing realising the world outside's quite (or can be) nice.

I sent an email off to argos after browsing their site and a pc caught my eye with large screen, and enough functionality to mean i can, briefly, escape the clutches of the bermuda triangle.  Sadly it had windows 7 installed.

Now i'm neither a windows hater (really) or mac fanboy, or linux diehard but it gets cumbersome when you can throw a dice as to when your os decides to go belly-up, and with windows it happens far too often.  With my linux mint setup it has only failed to play ball once and  had to be rebooted and that's in over 10 months use, the last time i booted into the xp side it stayed up for all of 2 hours before falling over.

The thing with windows is that it needs defraging every two seconds, numerous virus-checkers (auto & manual) to help your chances of missing something nasty, anti-malware/spamware/drive by download/rootkit/etc., and cleaned regularly, and that's before you can start to breath easy.

Life really is too short to have to continually hunt around for something that's screwed with your system, unless you do it for living, enjoy the challenge from time to time, or simply wish to get down and in-depth with your bits of metal; but not when you're intensely in the middle of something and it decides to go poof!

Not only that but i'm looking for something i can easily carry and read and use and upgrade when i wish to without having to send it on a round the world cruise or have some dodgy repair merchant browsing my all my files.  

Where was i? Ah yes, argos.  

I was impressed after reciving a call (not an email) from an argos staff member saying "they didn't supply the system without the os, as they had a deal with the manufacturer and it comes pre-installed."  A very friendly and knowledgable member of staff who also told me of the problems he had when he wanted to do a similar thing.

That reminded me of a staff member in a financial company on the phone who went from trying to sell me a product to  spending 30 minutes  wanting to make a career change as he was "tired and disillusioned with the crap he had to go through every day."

If you're out there do it!  Send that script in to them and set up a videocast.  You have nothing to lose.

 

So argos, four happy tabs are pinned on your earnest friendly technical call staff member.  It would have been five, but, you just couldn't kick the windows habit.

Google car?

It was delightful watching the google car, thoughts immediately turned to...  a google bus!

A bus where engines are switched off when it's stationary at the terminus, but then it wouldn't need to terminate as it could run all the time until it needs servicing; where it then automatically makes its way to the garage for a service - no having to take a tea break nor toilet break - and with decent manufacturing behind it, able to practically run 23/7 without pay or holidays... wonder when we'll see the first one.  Could this be the start of happy days, who needs to be told?

But wait a moment as I pop on my noise-cancelling headphones with internal bass boost which cut down all the noisy street noise to the level of squeaking mice.  With this on, the only time I know a noise-machine is going past is a slight increase in the vibrations tickling my feet - at least I know there's still some circulation occurring in those stubby trunks, and if i do hear it, then the blighters will obviously be deaf in a few months time - hurrah!

I remember commenting somewhere that this little triangle has more akin to the wild west.  But over the past months that's changed.  It is actually the wild west enmeshed in an episode of the twilight zone, where a strange number of people really are, very, very strange.

Global handwashing and the poops of doom!

Well, the other day was global handwashing day, and still the message seems to be lost, but then in those parts of the world where people have to choose between using water to wash their hands, or water to drink, then can you really blame them for not doing so, instead of those who treat everything as a commodity including human lives?

I remember many years ago when still an ardent clubber with legs that moved, that - regardless of my unsteady gait - after every visit to a toilet (restroom), on the way out i'd ensure i my hands were washed; even if every other part of me was liberally flinging dancing sweat as far as my flailing arms would carry them.  Amusing, but certainly not nice.  Even then - however briefly - i started to notice whilst waiting for those lines to go down that fellow clubbers who would be in and out without the slightest momentary glance at the washbasin area; regardless of whether they'd visited the urinals, or spent hours worshipping the ceramic, or enjoying those other things which never required the necessity of placing hands anywhere near genitalia and so never required the closer inspection of soap and water.  

Talking of poop.  During a quick clean out to remove dust-bunnies and using the time to do some re-arranging, i noticed a can of 'paint & varnish remover' festooned with bubbles speckling its lower half.  Cursing spiders for their pooings, I used some diluted bleach to remove the offending bits, only to find the spiders poop had seemingly eaten through the paint and metal allowing the contents to slowly but surely seep out.  Either that or the contents of the can had possibly become more toxic over the months and eaten through, or the two had conspired to combine and decided to create the holes on purpose! 

At this juncture, i believe it is the first option, as the shape and distribution of the dots lend themselves far more favourably to that more plausible scenario especially as the area was rife with webs and dessicated spiders before been flushed, instead of both the spider poo and the varnish remover suddenly having a life all of their own. 

 

Know it alls

You know when you're on the right track when those who should measure, fail to measure, decide to pro-actively work out how not to measure, indeed find every possible method of not having to be anywhere near the place to measure, as measuring would show how short of the mark they've fallen.

On the other hand if those who should measure do, and find nothing, then they will have done their duty and it's simply down to the delicate nature of those who live in the vicinity.

Jingle bug!

Seven more posts and i’ll have bested my earlier years postings of bilge, showing just what tripe they truly are.

Luckily, it’s rapidly entering that time of year where, instead of me expressing the caustic delights of my existence through the badly mangled utterances of my mother tongue, i’ll be expressing those delights through the medium of 20 odd wonderful pictograms, all effusing with wonderment at the joyous celebratory humbug… ha, haha, hahahahahahaha!

Sound booms

It's interesting to note that the sort of sound that can sway buildings, that can crack structures, that causes your whole body to vibrate, is - according to lambeth council - more than acceptable to output and so what if it's inflicted on residents who stand in the way of- what's that green stuff?

Now where's my lfnsa...

Lest we forget

"I'm all for states buying stuff up and helping capitalism." - Courtesy fox news presenter.

Coughing buses

It seems i'm stuck in a theme of which there's nothing wrong, just as long as i don't become subsumed by it - otherwise i'll have to do the honourable thing and try to make it pay its way.

But, this afternoon as i sat penning, writing out a few more details of offending bus drivers failing to switch off their engines whilst stationary at the stand; i noticed in my aggregate news reader - which pops up whenever the robo-searches come slinking back home with heavy packets regarding anything bus worthy - that two events happened at both ends of the spectrum of twilightness, that required a little bit of pedantry.

The first was news of a london bus driver being charged with the sad death of a cyclist - full news here, and the second was that arriva had been shortlisted for eight categories for the prestigious national uk bus awards.  What makes this so curious is the bus garage nominated for bus garage of the year, is also the garage where the driver charged with the death of the cyclist was based.

I continued sipping my coffee, watching half of my life continue its downward slide, whilst the other bobs slightly buoyantly.

Twidleness

Wait a mo isn’t there another conference ripping into the poor, taking milk from infants, feeding whole swathes of the luckless to lions - or the mincing machine that goes by the title you have no life, that i might have missed…

Unseemly rip’s

Oh world webby, where would we be without you!

It appears my initial woe’s and teeth gnashing were overdone and mightily premature, as a more thorough search indicated that it could just be a corrupt error in the start up causing the wsod (white screen of death) looping, and if lucky wouldn’t need to download a firmware tool from a third-party, nor a hacked tool from some unknown party, but straight from sony ericssons own site which eventually popped out an update tool for download to update the firmware. 

Firmware updates, especially during the earlier days of motherboard bios flashing, held similar delights to stuffing your head into the mouth of a lion and daring it to bite your head off - only for the brave. 

But it went through the upgrade process with only 3% of battery power without a hiccup.  I was now able to get the phone to switch on, quickly realising that my backups never actually existed outside of my imagination, and the phone refused to see the memory card. 

At least it was progress.

After pausing to ponder it hit me.  After the firmware update, do another reset, a reset using the phones factory default option. 

Before doing that however, i transferred the flash card to disk, formatted the flash card, re-copied the information and voila, all of the data was back in, sadly minus contacts.  Even the sim was cleared of contacts, which i could have done years ago and not realised.  Luckily had contacts scattered in the cloud.  Exported those to vcf format and synced address book with phone which worked.  So, barring losing data for people who i haven’t been in touch with for decades, regular service has been resumed. 

On this occasions i’m more than happy to loft five happy tabs for the webby’s practical and useful information and sony ericssons site which saved a fraught shopping trip and loss of all data. 

Now with the camera back in operation, ready to take pictures of whatever noise they’re creating outside… hold on… oh.. painting lovely red double-lines, so everyone and his dog can park there.  On third thoughts I’ll resist the temptation to pop a snap, save on its wear ‘n tear.

RIP for faithful years

As the maelstrom that is my existence, continues it plunge down the rabbit hole, it's now swallowed my faithful phone; yes it was a brick compared to the latest slim-line razor sharp offerings, but up until today it did everything i needed a phone to do without airs or graces and done them well.  

Today, it died.  The screen just blinks on then off.  I could get it repaired, but its battered carcass has seen better years - like its owner, and as the other two mobiles also died displaying the same symptom, its time for it to hit that great mobile recycling facility in the sky.

So come in rip k750i, your time has finally arrived.

Bus strike

Did someone say the buses are going on strike? 

Oh please make it so, failing that a ditch, a very large ditch!

Home delivery triumphs

Order 2 - Day 1 - 11:44

Never one not to turn the other cheek (at least once) nor grasp enough rope to swing by, i plumped for another delivery by that august (spot the tonal difference) grocers, sainsburys!

An amazing transformation.  

For some odd reason i'd forgotten i'd placed an order for delivery today, thinking instead it was due tomorrow.  Around 10:53hrs i received a call from the driver saying "everything's okay. I've found the building and will be with you shortly."

Here? I had to enquire whether he'd really had the right day.  Sure enough he had, with an added surprise of also arriving early.  Soon i was placing numerous orange bags around the fume-ridden parts of the flat, making note of those items which were out of stock that could wait until i made a trip to the farmers market instead.  I was, however, so contented with the delivery i decided to call expressing said effusive contentment.

For a growing agrophobe, not having to participate in the melee that goes by the name of shopping is a mighty boon.  I now just need to get my air piped from the arctic, the bubble, and i'd explode through sheer blissful contentedness.

So far it's being one good experience vs. a crappy one, with the third shopping experience test just a few short weeks away.  

On this occasion i'm giving five happy tabs to sainsburys.

 

Ba

Just when i finally grasped how to successfully grow large pelargoniums and toy with the idea of gently squeezing those essential oils, drop by drop, into thin-necked bottles for a sublime organic pot-pouri experience (even had the poster designs); I only discover my delicate little skin is allergic to its scented touch and breaks out faster than a teenager on a diet of pizza and radioactive sunny dependent.

In a brief second, what could have been the gateway to a bucket-load of green liquid happiness (although it still could be if i don't inhale, touch, or have any of it waft over me), turns out to be something else that i need to add to the growing list of toxicity that's slowly making me wonder whether i should invest in a very large bubble!  Naturally it would have to be a sound-proofed bubble, with tasers appropriately positioned and a concealed bear trap or two for back up!  

In hindsight, it's a good thing i never conjured up a whole batch and dipped my head in, that would have been embarrassing to explain down at a&e - if i made it that far.

So what else is it good for, apart from infusing a nasty smelling fume laden room with the wonderful scent of freshly cut lemon? 

Culinary, air fragrance or purely ornamental.  

Ah yes

Nothing like a new broom to bring us back to the good old days…

Luckily, with “air quality in london amongst the worst in
europe,” london assembly air quality report 2009, we’ll soon be enjoying pea-soup, for free!  That is those of us on the ground level with bus stands for neighbours.

If anyone knows where the above pics come from, please email so they can be gratefully accredited (or taken down).

'elping elderlies

On the one hand lambeth is celebrating the elderly by announcing october is the month for 'celebrating age'  jointly organised by themselves and age concern.

They should have a chat with licensing, the environment department, oh yes, and tfl just to see how much consideration they truly show the elderly (indeed seemingly show anyone over their 40's let alone those 70-90+ year olds) in this little part of the borough.

But if you're not able to conjour up the imagery let me help out. It's nothing short of a damnable disgrace.

Admirable midges

Every now and then things occur which smears a smidge of admiration, no not admiration, delight at the potential of selflessness in the social side of humanity.  Luckily, and seemingly as quickly its usually beaten to death by an avalanche of human behaviour, proving how nasty the social side of humanity can be; which luckily, every now and then is offset by things which smear a smidge of... 

Snailorama

It's yet another damp and wet period here in the smoke, perfect conditions to see whether the previous snail-surge for the algal patches would be repeated.

The viriginia creeper is in its last flush of greenery, but still contains a fair amount of lush green leaves.  Out of six snails, five were happily munching on algal growth and the sixth tackling its way through the bush; eye-stalks straining to their fullest extent as it strove like a maddened rabid dog to partake in whatever goodness these green squelching mats hold for these speeding gastropods.

Another test is obviously in order; something like a glass bottle placed mid-way between the algal patch and other greener bits, then simply watching which direction the snails speed off to.

Talking about racers, boy racing wonders have been a bit thin on the ground recently, do hope they've found that ditch - unharmed naturally!

Testing…

 1, 2, 3… testing…

Where shall i begin …

… since the line's now drawn.