The Pots woke terrified and heavily sweating, and begins recalling his vivid dream. He was laying naked amongst a bunch of nukes; rubbing his parts over their very large, very big, smooth and metallic exteriors. He remembers being exultant hearing them “ooooo”, and “ahhhh”, calling out his name at his every touch and each of his gyrations -he’d never experienced that before- he was finally doing what he wanted, and getting to play with his nukes! In the next instant he is speeding with them to China, Russia, and North Korea, all at the same time. The next, he watches as billions of bodies ignite and burn to ash, before being ripped asunder by a ferocious gale. He shudders, still remembering, as the sweat drips from his third chin.
Hours after the latest nuclear summit between: North Korea, China, Russia and the USA, President Trump, normally referred to as Pots (President Of the Thin Skins), flushed the toilet after a 3am text dump. Headed down for his early morning briefing, and helped himself to the generously proportioned breakfast happy-meals.
“Oo, oo. When I was on my fifth happy meal at the Nuclear Summit, I heard President Kime say to President Vlade that he’d fix the whole ecological thing, real good.”
“Fix, Mr President?”
“Yep, fix. I liked the sound of that. Which is why I have my ecological big-boy pants on, ready for our next meeting.”
“I see Mr President.”
“Has Miss beautiful Peach Lady called?”
“Who, Sir?”
“The one with an even more voluptuous rear than me. The one going out with that singing butler. It’s surprising he’s still a butler, he talks as much sense as i do.”
“You mean Kanye, Sir?”
“Yes, my best friend Kimye.”
“And, Kim Kar-”
“Yes Kime two. She's very cool. All the best people are called Kime. What’s your name?”
“It's still Bruce, Sir.”
“Good.”
“Er, we were talking about the ecology Sir?”
“Yes, Kime the fourth, you’re right. We were. Now, what did he... Ah yes. President Kime said they’d be sending lots of things over, to help us out with our ecologicals, but that I shouldn’t worry. They’ll create the biggest and brightest shield; a really really big shield, full of the best little floating particles, that will blot out the sun for weeks...”
“Er, Sir?”
“And help bring down the temps. Ah. Kime the fourth, where are the temps on this briefcase? I can’t see them anywhere.”
Friday, 9 August 2019
Wednesday, 7 August 2019
The ecologist
So here is a proposition, hear me out now, "Donald Trump is an ecologist!"
"What?" You shriek in horror.
Well he is determined to use nuclear weapons and he has been fascinated by them for years. Go on, Google it. I will wait. Ah fuck it, too slow, but take my word for it, that it predates his stay in the White House. After all, why have these powerful shiny and expensive things if you can’t use them? They appeal to his inner spiteful toddler.
The ecology part? Well if he starts a hot war with China, for instance, there will be barrages of icbms between China and the USA. This will kill a lot of people. Dead people don’t produce carbon emissions, well some briefly would as they rot. But they will not be driving around, nor using air conditioning. So that’s a plus for the planet. More importantly the nuclear explosions will send clouds of debris into the air and decrease solar warming. The "nuclear winter" benefit bonus. It’s what we used to worry about before other new fangled anxieties like global warming and genocide, rudely decided to intrude.
So there you have it. Donald Trump, the ecologist.
"What?" You shriek in horror.
Well he is determined to use nuclear weapons and he has been fascinated by them for years. Go on, Google it. I will wait. Ah fuck it, too slow, but take my word for it, that it predates his stay in the White House. After all, why have these powerful shiny and expensive things if you can’t use them? They appeal to his inner spiteful toddler.
The ecology part? Well if he starts a hot war with China, for instance, there will be barrages of icbms between China and the USA. This will kill a lot of people. Dead people don’t produce carbon emissions, well some briefly would as they rot. But they will not be driving around, nor using air conditioning. So that’s a plus for the planet. More importantly the nuclear explosions will send clouds of debris into the air and decrease solar warming. The "nuclear winter" benefit bonus. It’s what we used to worry about before other new fangled anxieties like global warming and genocide, rudely decided to intrude.
So there you have it. Donald Trump, the ecologist.
Monday, 5 August 2019
Trickle down deficit austerity
Trickle down economics, deficit reduction, austerity, or whatever the next new wonderful wheeze and its stated resolution will be called, when economies again go tits-up. They should simply combine all the terms into one, and call it trickitity. When it's over hose it down re-jiggle and reuse, the next time economies are slammed into a wall.
In 2010 george osborne set a target for the elimination of britain's deficit, its current day-to-day budget if you will. Thanks to the mom & pop enterprises who blew up the economy, radical action had to be taken. Naturally, as they were the majority cause of the financial meltdown, they had to be the most severely penalised by having trillions showered on them, with a firm reminder printed on their foreheads saying "don't do it again." Oh wait, that's just a bit of fiction someone somewhere is thinking of working on, and turning into a film.
The right of centre press managed to pin the blame firmly on labour with enough of the electorate, whose critical thinking skills were lost amongst the fog of alarmist red headlines. The conservatives & liberals (finally with the stick of power in their chubby little paws) told the country that everyone had to dig deep. Dig really, really deep, and do their bit for queen and country. They, with radical agenda, would lead the stalwarts and make all the hard choices - we were in this mess together and we would only arise triumphant by acting with single purpose, together.
It should have been unsurprising that when measures finally made their way into the daylight, the "all, we, together" pact, had transmogrified to impact households that had already been pilloried & vilified in the media. If it was a household with at least one disabled person in tow, then all the better. Their voluntary act of service would be offering themselves to be a part of the first deployed battalions, ready to suck up all those evil fiscal lemons of austerity. Ensuring their unwavering sacrifices would be greatly appreciated and remembered, once the rush of non-exec-with-benefits emails started to arrive during the morning slew of g&t's whilst basking in the french riviera.
If those unfortunates had enough money to buy more than eight tins of dust, well that was one more tin than they'd need for a week; rightly showing their frivolous and wasteful nature. No, it was far better their already bloated waistlines were tightened a bit further, and tightened at least until their bones started cracking.
It took eight years for george osborne's deficit target to be reached. Yet less than a year after for the headline "deficit surges over £7bn in june 2019". But wasn't the entire purpose of the hack and slash austerity to reduce the deficit? Of course not. That was a handy ruse used by the usual suspects, after numerous outlets successfully painted the sick, disabled, and benefit scroungers as being perfect fodder to reduce the involvement of the state; and in time, allow private corporations to begin the process of hovering up all that spare money-tree cash. Which is why the magic money-tree no longer had any, when it came to providing a leg-up for the unfortunates in society.
The idea that every country is just like a household where each penny has to be fully balanced otherwise we would end up looking like that house at the end terrace with its doors hanging off, rubbish covering the garden, and strewn over the fence, the feral cats and dogs biting anything within spitting distance, and the husband flitting off at night to put furious deposits elsewhere. Sorry, my mistake, i'm getting that confused with the johnson house. But that the household, in time of distress, can just print as much money as it wants, or hack and slash as much spare flesh off as they can without rendering themselves unconscious and being air-lifted to an emergency room.
After years of reagen & thatcher trickle down, the conservatives & liberal austerity, then just the conservatives austerity drive, what more proof do whole swathes of the poor (who still vote conservative), non-parachuted handcuffed workers, social & public services users require, that they really just don't like you. They don't like what you represent. They don't like how you dress. They don't like how you eat, walk, nor talk, and when there are colonies in space, you do know which groups they'll be criminalising to send out and do all the grunt work first.
In 2010 george osborne set a target for the elimination of britain's deficit, its current day-to-day budget if you will. Thanks to the mom & pop enterprises who blew up the economy, radical action had to be taken. Naturally, as they were the majority cause of the financial meltdown, they had to be the most severely penalised by having trillions showered on them, with a firm reminder printed on their foreheads saying "don't do it again." Oh wait, that's just a bit of fiction someone somewhere is thinking of working on, and turning into a film.
The right of centre press managed to pin the blame firmly on labour with enough of the electorate, whose critical thinking skills were lost amongst the fog of alarmist red headlines. The conservatives & liberals (finally with the stick of power in their chubby little paws) told the country that everyone had to dig deep. Dig really, really deep, and do their bit for queen and country. They, with radical agenda, would lead the stalwarts and make all the hard choices - we were in this mess together and we would only arise triumphant by acting with single purpose, together.
It should have been unsurprising that when measures finally made their way into the daylight, the "all, we, together" pact, had transmogrified to impact households that had already been pilloried & vilified in the media. If it was a household with at least one disabled person in tow, then all the better. Their voluntary act of service would be offering themselves to be a part of the first deployed battalions, ready to suck up all those evil fiscal lemons of austerity. Ensuring their unwavering sacrifices would be greatly appreciated and remembered, once the rush of non-exec-with-benefits emails started to arrive during the morning slew of g&t's whilst basking in the french riviera.
If those unfortunates had enough money to buy more than eight tins of dust, well that was one more tin than they'd need for a week; rightly showing their frivolous and wasteful nature. No, it was far better their already bloated waistlines were tightened a bit further, and tightened at least until their bones started cracking.
It took eight years for george osborne's deficit target to be reached. Yet less than a year after for the headline "deficit surges over £7bn in june 2019". But wasn't the entire purpose of the hack and slash austerity to reduce the deficit? Of course not. That was a handy ruse used by the usual suspects, after numerous outlets successfully painted the sick, disabled, and benefit scroungers as being perfect fodder to reduce the involvement of the state; and in time, allow private corporations to begin the process of hovering up all that spare money-tree cash. Which is why the magic money-tree no longer had any, when it came to providing a leg-up for the unfortunates in society.
The idea that every country is just like a household where each penny has to be fully balanced otherwise we would end up looking like that house at the end terrace with its doors hanging off, rubbish covering the garden, and strewn over the fence, the feral cats and dogs biting anything within spitting distance, and the husband flitting off at night to put furious deposits elsewhere. Sorry, my mistake, i'm getting that confused with the johnson house. But that the household, in time of distress, can just print as much money as it wants, or hack and slash as much spare flesh off as they can without rendering themselves unconscious and being air-lifted to an emergency room.
After years of reagen & thatcher trickle down, the conservatives & liberal austerity, then just the conservatives austerity drive, what more proof do whole swathes of the poor (who still vote conservative), non-parachuted handcuffed workers, social & public services users require, that they really just don't like you. They don't like what you represent. They don't like how you dress. They don't like how you eat, walk, nor talk, and when there are colonies in space, you do know which groups they'll be criminalising to send out and do all the grunt work first.
Friday, 2 August 2019
In alternate reality 45823....
The man with power girded his loins with grim determination, and headed north, to beyond the wall. His guests were ready and waiting to receive him.
"Well, where is he? He should be here now!"
"Ay, that he should. But he ain't. Hold on... Hey Angus!"
"Ay, Fraser?"
"Any word on when that southern jessie's ganna arrive?"
"Ay Fraser, he should be here now."
"Ay he should be here Angus, but he aint."
"Hold on Fraser. It's coming back to me. There was a daft looking fella wandering around earlier. Had a face like a skelped erse, and prime minister scribbled on his chest. His mouth kept opening, but only gibberish was coming out. So I locked him in the cupboard, with the cleaning supplies."
"Oh Angus. What have you done."
"Saved the country Fraser, saved the country."
"Well, where is he? He should be here now!"
"Ay, that he should. But he ain't. Hold on... Hey Angus!"
"Ay, Fraser?"
"Any word on when that southern jessie's ganna arrive?"
"Ay Fraser, he should be here now."
"Ay he should be here Angus, but he aint."
"Hold on Fraser. It's coming back to me. There was a daft looking fella wandering around earlier. Had a face like a skelped erse, and prime minister scribbled on his chest. His mouth kept opening, but only gibberish was coming out. So I locked him in the cupboard, with the cleaning supplies."
"Oh Angus. What have you done."
"Saved the country Fraser, saved the country."
Wednesday, 31 July 2019
Trumbor
The gathering of the clan was a departure from tradition. By electing two leaders and surgically joining them together, the collective membership had -apart from losing its mind-, finally caused the world to notice them.
Scribes from far and wide descended on the unprecedented gathering, all of them wanting any sort of exclusive.
One scribe was too keen, and slips in between the chairs, to be garrotted by another scribe sitting down at the same time. However, luckily for the now seated scribe, his deceased colleague's question paper gently flutters into his hands. Not believing his luck, but happy to take it anyway, he quickly springs up. "Er, I have some questions," he blurts out.
"Yes, the boring scribe in the fifth row!" Trumbor says, cleaning its teeth of that morning's breakfast: char lady, cocker spaniel, and a brace of peasants.
"How will you tackle the unequal distribution of wealth?"
"That's easy. Taxes are now cut for everyone." Trumbor, in unison says. Immediately causing uproar in the clan.
"Everyone?" Many of the gathered scribes ask at the same time.
"Yes, everyone." Trumbor says. Irritation clearly already getting the better of them.
"How about the poo-," another scribe begins.
"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. What was that? Weeeeeeeeeeeee. Can't hear you. Guards!"
Scribes from far and wide descended on the unprecedented gathering, all of them wanting any sort of exclusive.
One scribe was too keen, and slips in between the chairs, to be garrotted by another scribe sitting down at the same time. However, luckily for the now seated scribe, his deceased colleague's question paper gently flutters into his hands. Not believing his luck, but happy to take it anyway, he quickly springs up. "Er, I have some questions," he blurts out.
"Yes, the boring scribe in the fifth row!" Trumbor says, cleaning its teeth of that morning's breakfast: char lady, cocker spaniel, and a brace of peasants.
"How will you tackle the unequal distribution of wealth?"
"That's easy. Taxes are now cut for everyone." Trumbor, in unison says. Immediately causing uproar in the clan.
"Everyone?" Many of the gathered scribes ask at the same time.
"Yes, everyone." Trumbor says. Irritation clearly already getting the better of them.
"How about the poo-," another scribe begins.
"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. What was that? Weeeeeeeeeeeee. Can't hear you. Guards!"
Monday, 29 July 2019
In alternate reality 45823....
It's b-day, plus 10 years, and the uk is now the 51st state of the usa.
The nhs has being bled to death by a billion cuts and the tasty filleted remains sold off to the fastest swooping vulture funds.
The first term rees-mcvey government has discovered a very large hole in their plans. After promising the electorate the sky, they have discovered that is the only thing in the country left for them to privatise.
"Ah, prime minister. Would you like to comment on the rumours that we are the new puerto rico?"
"Oh really, what a nonsensical question! Listen mush, once we've sold off the sky, we shall all be fantastically wealthy. There will also be some stale crumbs for the poor. Although, they'll have to fight marzebub for those!"
The nhs has being bled to death by a billion cuts and the tasty filleted remains sold off to the fastest swooping vulture funds.
The first term rees-mcvey government has discovered a very large hole in their plans. After promising the electorate the sky, they have discovered that is the only thing in the country left for them to privatise.
"Ah, prime minister. Would you like to comment on the rumours that we are the new puerto rico?"
"Oh really, what a nonsensical question! Listen mush, once we've sold off the sky, we shall all be fantastically wealthy. There will also be some stale crumbs for the poor. Although, they'll have to fight marzebub for those!"
Friday, 26 July 2019
Ocean's 33: The Sunken Lot
Where a hapless gang of intrepid bunglers manage to trip up, get caught, miss the loot, destroy a country, gas through their teeth, have no idea what they are talking about, wouldn't know a bath plug from a kitchen tap, have a mistress and try to leave the country but end up doing donuts, blow their feet off then their genitals, and it's only the first operational run through.
You'll never forget less memorable lines, such as...
Grab your life jackets now!
You'll never forget less memorable lines, such as...
Wednesday, 24 July 2019
Monday, 22 July 2019
Particulate limits
I read on the air quality news website with interest gove pledging to enshrine who particulate limits into uk law.
I experienced a petaseconds worth of elation, before realising just what that'll mean here in the land of the topsy turvy. To make sure nothing had changed, i opened the curtains, and sure enough tfl's buses were parked outside with their engines running. So despite all the pledges and chippy promises, nothing will actually change. Don't believe me? The next time you're out and around, just take a look at the gritty, dirty, urban streets, and just see how many of your fellow species are actually doing anything positive towards the betterment of nature... the species is still oh so very fucked.
Even scientists who initially prevaricated and couched their words in more conservative tomes are becoming increasingly shrill. But for decorum you can almost here them saying "why can't you people open your eyes, and see what's going on, what's coming and at least try to change!" But that will require, well thought. Thinking. Perhaps even empathy. Apart from extinction rebellion and other such groups, just look around. The majority will truly only care when they experience 55+ celsius degree summers as an annual event, roads melting, glass turning into mini flame-torches, and being unable to venture outside during any hour of daylight. Okay that last bit might take more creeping venus like temperatures, but as a species, without the numerous technological advances and generally filled shopping shelves, how many of us would be able to operate with rapid changing environments.
So as I sit with windows open and listen to bus engines being revved and rumblingly idled, mere feet from the bus stand, i wonder at this wonderful example of town planning, and whether tfl's pr spin team (if given an opportunity) would say that it is one of the greenest stands ever!
Visualising slender tendrils of fumes and particulates soaring through and lodging in my brain, chest and spleen, i wonder just how much popcorn we'll need to watch the end of the world, or if we will simply croak long before then with brains full of crap and lungs full of sea-water.
At least before the last wave laps over i can wave a feeble fist, in solidarity with pollution sufferers everywhere.
I experienced a petaseconds worth of elation, before realising just what that'll mean here in the land of the topsy turvy. To make sure nothing had changed, i opened the curtains, and sure enough tfl's buses were parked outside with their engines running. So despite all the pledges and chippy promises, nothing will actually change. Don't believe me? The next time you're out and around, just take a look at the gritty, dirty, urban streets, and just see how many of your fellow species are actually doing anything positive towards the betterment of nature... the species is still oh so very fucked.
Even scientists who initially prevaricated and couched their words in more conservative tomes are becoming increasingly shrill. But for decorum you can almost here them saying "why can't you people open your eyes, and see what's going on, what's coming and at least try to change!" But that will require, well thought. Thinking. Perhaps even empathy. Apart from extinction rebellion and other such groups, just look around. The majority will truly only care when they experience 55+ celsius degree summers as an annual event, roads melting, glass turning into mini flame-torches, and being unable to venture outside during any hour of daylight. Okay that last bit might take more creeping venus like temperatures, but as a species, without the numerous technological advances and generally filled shopping shelves, how many of us would be able to operate with rapid changing environments.
So as I sit with windows open and listen to bus engines being revved and rumblingly idled, mere feet from the bus stand, i wonder at this wonderful example of town planning, and whether tfl's pr spin team (if given an opportunity) would say that it is one of the greenest stands ever!
Visualising slender tendrils of fumes and particulates soaring through and lodging in my brain, chest and spleen, i wonder just how much popcorn we'll need to watch the end of the world, or if we will simply croak long before then with brains full of crap and lungs full of sea-water.
At least before the last wave laps over i can wave a feeble fist, in solidarity with pollution sufferers everywhere.
Friday, 19 July 2019
In alternate reality 45823....
The hustings
The final husting's and it's neck and neck. Both candidates awkwardly stand on stage for the last round. Sudden death.
"Munt!"
"Blowhard!"
"Piffle-boodle-orgasmatron-poodle."
"Ha. I beat you. A gaggle of entrepreneurs!"
The final husting's and it's neck and neck. Both candidates awkwardly stand on stage for the last round. Sudden death.
"Munt!"
"Blowhard!"
"Piffle-boodle-orgasmatron-poodle."
"Ha. I beat you. A gaggle of entrepreneurs!"
Wednesday, 17 July 2019
Somewhat overheard - July 2019
New neighbours.
Second night.
Watching television - probably cable.
Their tv watching comments filtered through the no-soundproofed divide and mainly comprised of: oh my fucking god, fucking this, or fucking that, or fuck me, or some other fruity expletive, all quite happy and jovial.
The number of f'ings has already far surpassed the previous residents, who were around for over 24 months! Great scott, this is only their second night!
The impression is more a pair of commoner street screwers from deepest victorian huddersfield, than city accountants. Who knew they could be so fruity!
Second night.
Watching television - probably cable.
Their tv watching comments filtered through the no-soundproofed divide and mainly comprised of: oh my fucking god, fucking this, or fucking that, or fuck me, or some other fruity expletive, all quite happy and jovial.
The number of f'ings has already far surpassed the previous residents, who were around for over 24 months! Great scott, this is only their second night!
The impression is more a pair of commoner street screwers from deepest victorian huddersfield, than city accountants. Who knew they could be so fruity!
Monday, 15 July 2019
The Problem with Empire - Futopia
Empires are nothing but problems blowing in the sand. Sometimes as useful as a pane of glass. Sometimes more painful, when sticking out your neck!
In the UK, a long time ago, labour was swept into power with a landslide majority by an electorate with high expectations of a bright hopeful future. So let’s briefly look back at john smith who probably would have been prime minister; and where we can only imagine the path not taken.
Smith was a politician who had more of a smidge of affinity for the working class than his eventual successor. He probably would have reformed the public sector; but not carve it up and hand over the juicy morsels; sorry, tender out unproductive parts to private organisations. With smith’s untimely death, the mantle of leadership passed to margaret beckett. A lovely woman, but not really galvanising the country by the scruff of its neck sort of leader. No matter how hard I try, I can never imagine margaret riding bareback on a shining white charger, with her enemies heads bouncing off her bosom!
But what of china and it's one belt one road initiative? There are currently 68 countries participating in the drive, which some might uncharitably view as the beginnings of a light-touch hegemony, eventually ushering in a loose empire. Yes china has human rights issues, along with most countries and all empires through the ages. The right to simply be, is a fight people have had to rekindle from generation to generation, and that’s only through records which haven’t been destroyed by religious zealots.
What of the king of trumponia and the crystal clouded future? I suppose the best we can hope for is that as long as stubby fingers fail to find buttons of doom, and a nest of inept incompetents are turfed out, then at least there’ll be one less agent of chaos ready to bring the world cascading into flames.
But when you hear countries talking about bringing freedom for your people, gather all your precious assets and squirrel them away safe and secure. Call black gold, nothing but dirty water, and the soil’s only fit for flushing. Then to all intents you’re too dirt poor, and hardly worth the enslavement.
In the UK, a long time ago, labour was swept into power with a landslide majority by an electorate with high expectations of a bright hopeful future. So let’s briefly look back at john smith who probably would have been prime minister; and where we can only imagine the path not taken.
Smith was a politician who had more of a smidge of affinity for the working class than his eventual successor. He probably would have reformed the public sector; but not carve it up and hand over the juicy morsels; sorry, tender out unproductive parts to private organisations. With smith’s untimely death, the mantle of leadership passed to margaret beckett. A lovely woman, but not really galvanising the country by the scruff of its neck sort of leader. No matter how hard I try, I can never imagine margaret riding bareback on a shining white charger, with her enemies heads bouncing off her bosom!
But what of china and it's one belt one road initiative? There are currently 68 countries participating in the drive, which some might uncharitably view as the beginnings of a light-touch hegemony, eventually ushering in a loose empire. Yes china has human rights issues, along with most countries and all empires through the ages. The right to simply be, is a fight people have had to rekindle from generation to generation, and that’s only through records which haven’t been destroyed by religious zealots.
What of the king of trumponia and the crystal clouded future? I suppose the best we can hope for is that as long as stubby fingers fail to find buttons of doom, and a nest of inept incompetents are turfed out, then at least there’ll be one less agent of chaos ready to bring the world cascading into flames.
But when you hear countries talking about bringing freedom for your people, gather all your precious assets and squirrel them away safe and secure. Call black gold, nothing but dirty water, and the soil’s only fit for flushing. Then to all intents you’re too dirt poor, and hardly worth the enslavement.
Friday, 12 July 2019
Wednesday, 10 July 2019
A little bit - Furenvy!
Flying flocks of envy and galloping migrations of fury have been reported from all over the world - if you forget to consume your news with a hefty dose of morning salts.
Countries are furious. Customers are furious - although that quickly descends into only being tepidly livid. Viewers are furious and envious - apparently more the latter when watching tennis fans gorge on fresh strawberries & cream! Even stalwart shareholders in blue chip behemoths are furious, and that's before the first lot of sandwiches have had time to become crispy curls at the enviously livid agm!
You don't have to read that many columns, nor listen to many pundits, nor look too far before realising that everyone is either extremely furious, or green with unmitigated envy. It won't be long before you come across a headline, byline, or have spittle flecks hurled in your direction, to make you realise that this is how you should feel, if you encounter such a situation.
Yes half the world's furious whilst the other half's envious, as the world is going up in flames. Perhaps that hot under the collar sensation is starting to subconsciously niggle at us: making us fan a smidge faster, mop an extra bead of sweat, or hastily guzzle a litre of beer instead of gently sipping, or even force us to open another button.
We're furious! No we're envious! We're full of fury! No we're full of envy! We are, furenvy!
Countries are furious. Customers are furious - although that quickly descends into only being tepidly livid. Viewers are furious and envious - apparently more the latter when watching tennis fans gorge on fresh strawberries & cream! Even stalwart shareholders in blue chip behemoths are furious, and that's before the first lot of sandwiches have had time to become crispy curls at the enviously livid agm!
You don't have to read that many columns, nor listen to many pundits, nor look too far before realising that everyone is either extremely furious, or green with unmitigated envy. It won't be long before you come across a headline, byline, or have spittle flecks hurled in your direction, to make you realise that this is how you should feel, if you encounter such a situation.
Fury
|
Envy
| |
Watching someone eat strawberries & cream.
|
𔐍
| |
Seeing a giraffe killed for fun.
|
𔐍
| |
Your local shop running out of your favourite tea.
|
𔐍
| |
Having one of your oil tankers seized.
|
𔐍
| |
What's athena doing with that orange chipmunk?
|
𔐍
|
𔐍
|
Yes half the world's furious whilst the other half's envious, as the world is going up in flames. Perhaps that hot under the collar sensation is starting to subconsciously niggle at us: making us fan a smidge faster, mop an extra bead of sweat, or hastily guzzle a litre of beer instead of gently sipping, or even force us to open another button.
We're furious! No we're envious! We're full of fury! No we're full of envy! We are, furenvy!
Monday, 8 July 2019
The Problem with Empire - Trumponia
Empires are nothing but problems blowing in the sand. Sometimes those sands find their way into the most sensitive of parts, then you’re really screwed!
The latest fully paid-up empire is looking a bit leaky around the edges and appears to be following the trajectory of rotting from the core. The phrase “give me your tired, your poor,... the wretched refuse of your teeming shore” briefly rang around the world as leading to a halcyon bastion of democratic hope, to all those suffering oppression at the hands of their own despotic rulers, and the caprice of nature, or who simply wanted to do more than eat dust and actually have a life. Which is such a delightful thought, once we shove under the carpet: the genocidal attempt against the previous inhabitants, plus the slight issue of slavery for a cash crop to have someone pop a sugar cube into your finest royal worcestor. Strangely, that is a period some believe would be worth revisiting. No doubt along with the level of medical advances they had at the time, and a piss-pot by the bed.
Looking at the slow moving change taking place in the various governmental arms in the usa, you would be forgiven for thinking that a period of theocratic manifest destiny appears to be waiting, just over the horizon, to grab the stick of control from an increasingly fractured and side-tracked populace. Since they haven't had control since forever, it really doesn't make that much of a difference.
If you listen quietly, in-between the incessant chatter of evangelicals and bombast from neocons, you can hear them praying with expectant hope, that the age of armageddon really is this time, just around the corner. Which is odd, that some of the more fringe believers would then petition netflix to cancel the show good omens. A show which is neither shown on, nor produced by netflix. But why let a good bit of umbridge and disgruntlement go to waste, when you can publicly show just how much your wrongness should be appreciated. Terry pratchett would indeed have been amused, as was neil gaiman.
But if you are unaware that there are portions of the north american governing branches that seem hell-bent on having yet another war, then you weren’t following the events in venezuela, nor the ongoing sabre jousting currently taking place with iran. Don’t believe it? Watch a clip where john bolton’s idea of another country’s resource sovereignty, should really put the willies up those who believe there's any such thing as a special relationship.
The 45th potus nicely flows into that frame of state. Where outside of his follubleators (followers caught in a bubble whilst courting fawning yet discreet admiration from global dictators), he is viewed by some as nothing more than a charlatan, with the memory of an upside down goldfish - experiencing a very bad day.
Let’s briefly cast our minds back to the extreme republican attitude towards the 44th potus. You know that if he had committed a fraction of what the 45th’s already, or alleged to have done, then he would have been hounded out of office with the use of extra sharpened pitchforks, and that’s just by his fellow democrats.
It isn’t really that far a stretch to believe no matter the nonsense pouring from the 45th potus mouth and fingertips, the narrative permeating his base lends to his possible re-election. Which of course may be aided by a supreme court 5-4 ruling, basically saying federal courts can not intervene when states undertake gerrymandering. A ruling that now, in theory, means states can redraw voting districts to their hearts content. Why have a district of only 2,000 people, when you can now have one that encompasses 50,000? A shame all those non-republican representatives will be shrunk to a hotdesk for two. But what can you do? That’s just how the voting times fall.
We now just need the usa’s very own information minister of pr to take center stage. Maybe the third time will be the charm. Then finally, we’ll know the regime has reached its very own point of peak unbelievability.
The latest fully paid-up empire is looking a bit leaky around the edges and appears to be following the trajectory of rotting from the core. The phrase “give me your tired, your poor,... the wretched refuse of your teeming shore” briefly rang around the world as leading to a halcyon bastion of democratic hope, to all those suffering oppression at the hands of their own despotic rulers, and the caprice of nature, or who simply wanted to do more than eat dust and actually have a life. Which is such a delightful thought, once we shove under the carpet: the genocidal attempt against the previous inhabitants, plus the slight issue of slavery for a cash crop to have someone pop a sugar cube into your finest royal worcestor. Strangely, that is a period some believe would be worth revisiting. No doubt along with the level of medical advances they had at the time, and a piss-pot by the bed.
Looking at the slow moving change taking place in the various governmental arms in the usa, you would be forgiven for thinking that a period of theocratic manifest destiny appears to be waiting, just over the horizon, to grab the stick of control from an increasingly fractured and side-tracked populace. Since they haven't had control since forever, it really doesn't make that much of a difference.
If you listen quietly, in-between the incessant chatter of evangelicals and bombast from neocons, you can hear them praying with expectant hope, that the age of armageddon really is this time, just around the corner. Which is odd, that some of the more fringe believers would then petition netflix to cancel the show good omens. A show which is neither shown on, nor produced by netflix. But why let a good bit of umbridge and disgruntlement go to waste, when you can publicly show just how much your wrongness should be appreciated. Terry pratchett would indeed have been amused, as was neil gaiman.
But if you are unaware that there are portions of the north american governing branches that seem hell-bent on having yet another war, then you weren’t following the events in venezuela, nor the ongoing sabre jousting currently taking place with iran. Don’t believe it? Watch a clip where john bolton’s idea of another country’s resource sovereignty, should really put the willies up those who believe there's any such thing as a special relationship.
The 45th potus nicely flows into that frame of state. Where outside of his follubleators (followers caught in a bubble whilst courting fawning yet discreet admiration from global dictators), he is viewed by some as nothing more than a charlatan, with the memory of an upside down goldfish - experiencing a very bad day.
Let’s briefly cast our minds back to the extreme republican attitude towards the 44th potus. You know that if he had committed a fraction of what the 45th’s already, or alleged to have done, then he would have been hounded out of office with the use of extra sharpened pitchforks, and that’s just by his fellow democrats.
It isn’t really that far a stretch to believe no matter the nonsense pouring from the 45th potus mouth and fingertips, the narrative permeating his base lends to his possible re-election. Which of course may be aided by a supreme court 5-4 ruling, basically saying federal courts can not intervene when states undertake gerrymandering. A ruling that now, in theory, means states can redraw voting districts to their hearts content. Why have a district of only 2,000 people, when you can now have one that encompasses 50,000? A shame all those non-republican representatives will be shrunk to a hotdesk for two. But what can you do? That’s just how the voting times fall.
We now just need the usa’s very own information minister of pr to take center stage. Maybe the third time will be the charm. Then finally, we’ll know the regime has reached its very own point of peak unbelievability.
Friday, 5 July 2019
Wednesday, 3 July 2019
Somewhat overheard - June 2019
“The best thing about this place is getting the hell out of it,” the landscapist said to the painter.
When even hardened lifers say the best thing about an area is leaving it, you know you might have made a teensy bit of an error moving there in the first place.
When even hardened lifers say the best thing about an area is leaving it, you know you might have made a teensy bit of an error moving there in the first place.
Monday, 1 July 2019
The Problem with Empire - Brexdamtwit
Empires
are nothing but motes of sand blowing in the wind. Sometimes they
phut around for hours; at other times, they whip along for centuries!
Empires
have waxed and waned throughout the eons. They grow from slow mewling
collections of the dirty unwashed who huddle expectantly around
unsanitised watering holes. Periodically fight off four-legged
animals stupid enough not to be at least partially
eat-a-domesticable.
Then
move forward with shocked faux fervency, through the horror of public
orgies held beneath prickly moist sheets.
The
above usually occurs through a lens of no-nonsense rational
expansion. Where higher beings nicely bubble along the top, insisting
that their actions are aligned with the wishes of whichever deities
they've taken as their own. This allows them to parade through their
existence, cloaked with the hair of demurred gravitas. Luckily this
also allows history to leave the most memorable of moments, as
unexpected bonuses for future generations hilarity.
Society's progress rarely marches in a straight line, often experiencing
setbacks peppered by climate, wars, the odd volcano, and those who dream
of wealth, power, dominion and utter control, by whatever means
necessary. Empires slowly peak in grandeur as their messy conundrums
surpass the goals of interconnected villages, cities, regions,
politicians and quickly jettisoned ideals; before, sadly, having the most insane of
leaders inelegantly hoiked
upon
them. Experience terminal collapse. Then have the final indignity of
ending up in the guts of some bookend eating worm.
When
it comes to the less appealing sides of empire, they can have a
deleterious effect on the populace of any country they are successful
in overwhelming. Let's briefly take a very small country, which had a
very large impact - belgium,
and another country now called the democratic
republic of congo.
In the 1880’s belgium’s population was roughly around the 5.5
million mark whilst also been over 6,282(ish) km away from the congo.
We, or probably very few of us will ever know the true death toll
from that little romp into the interior. But with estimates ranging
from 5 - 12 million people killed, outside of a world war they’d
give any tyrannical dictator a run for the top spot of attempted
genocide.
From
such practices as severing a person’s hand, to outright
murder, they could be viewed as lawful
terrorists
of their age. In terms of brutality, they still surpass many of the
actions carried out by isis - in their onward march to an attempted
caliphate. It’s probable the world might have mobilised had the
group killed the same number of people as king
leopold ii,
if we believe there’s more than a raft of empathy and humanity amongst the global political
brokers. But how many of us heard, or can recall hearing anything
regarding such atrocities, whilst flicking snot balls during monotone
history lectures?
History
does repeat itself, it’s just that society usually has amnesia injected
into its veins.
Friday, 28 June 2019
A little bit -They're in the money!
The 2019 rich-list popped screaming into the world in february. Looked around for it's platinum spoon. Then sulked off as the vast bulk of the media moved onto the next event.
We are usually informed by presenters, in tones of exasperated wonder, just how much these bestriding titans are worth. Whether they've risen, or how far they've fallen and despite their bad luck which benevolent charity they've donated so much of their wealth to. Nowadays, even that accolade is only confined to those lucky enough to be placed within the highly coveted bracket of minting it, otherwise known as the top five.
As a grouping, the top ten richest people in the world are worth roughly $743.8 billion. Put another way, if you lined up 37,190,000 people (let's say the entire population of afghanistan, or canada) and then proceeded to hand each individual (babies included) $20,000 no strings attached, collectively they would have the same amount as the worthiest ten richest individuals in the world.
If we continue cannon-balling along with this little mind trip, and take the world's 100 richest people (if my slightly watering eyes, and dodgy mathematics are anywhere near correct), they are collectively worth a clip at $3 trillion +/- $32 billion. Put another way, 151,590,000 destitute people could be given $20,000 a year, which they just might find useful. Already the top 26 billionaires own more than 50% of the world's population Of course this doesn't actually do much for a population of roughly 7.7bn and rising, but with exponential advances in technology, rising inequality, and rising hordes of the unemployable (simply down to technology doing so much work faster, better, and cheaper) there should be more talk about the existential and societal crisis which will descend on us. When that unfortunate self-inflected trauma dovetails with the self-inflected upheaval of climate change... well, might just order another bucket of popcorn.
We are usually informed by presenters, in tones of exasperated wonder, just how much these bestriding titans are worth. Whether they've risen, or how far they've fallen and despite their bad luck which benevolent charity they've donated so much of their wealth to. Nowadays, even that accolade is only confined to those lucky enough to be placed within the highly coveted bracket of minting it, otherwise known as the top five.
As a grouping, the top ten richest people in the world are worth roughly $743.8 billion. Put another way, if you lined up 37,190,000 people (let's say the entire population of afghanistan, or canada) and then proceeded to hand each individual (babies included) $20,000 no strings attached, collectively they would have the same amount as the worthiest ten richest individuals in the world.
If we continue cannon-balling along with this little mind trip, and take the world's 100 richest people (if my slightly watering eyes, and dodgy mathematics are anywhere near correct), they are collectively worth a clip at $3 trillion +/- $32 billion. Put another way, 151,590,000 destitute people could be given $20,000 a year, which they just might find useful. Already the top 26 billionaires own more than 50% of the world's population Of course this doesn't actually do much for a population of roughly 7.7bn and rising, but with exponential advances in technology, rising inequality, and rising hordes of the unemployable (simply down to technology doing so much work faster, better, and cheaper) there should be more talk about the existential and societal crisis which will descend on us. When that unfortunate self-inflected trauma dovetails with the self-inflected upheaval of climate change... well, might just order another bucket of popcorn.
Wednesday, 26 June 2019
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