That's it.
I've tried, God knows I've tried. But now Blogger is just annoying me by randomly not showing my pictures.
So on the recommendation of my old mate Smalltownman, I am departing for hills new - if you still wish to follow the ramblings of a slightly deluded, 100% unambitious Englishman transplanted to Cornwall, head on over to kernownews.wordpress.com.
I hope to post a bit more frequently, but if I don't...well, I don't suppose you'll notice.
See you where the grass is greener.
17 January 2013
23 November 2012
"I'm 83 and tired" - Bill Cosby
|
1 November 2012
An open letter to the Muppets at Westminster...
To David Cameron and Ed Milliband
You two guys really worry me! In fact both of your parties worry the hell out of me!!!
Over the last three years, I find myself becoming more and more fearful of the pair of you, as between you, you are turning this country into a place that I no longer feel at home in, or feel a part of! I watch you in parliament (and no, not just the two of you, but every politician that I see) stand up in parliament sneering at each other and shouting and behaving like children! (Although if you were my children, I would be ashamed of you all – what an example to set!)
You two guys really worry me! In fact both of your parties worry the hell out of me!!!
Over the last three years, I find myself becoming more and more fearful of the pair of you, as between you, you are turning this country into a place that I no longer feel at home in, or feel a part of! I watch you in parliament (and no, not just the two of you, but every politician that I see) stand up in parliament sneering at each other and shouting and behaving like children! (Although if you were my children, I would be ashamed of you all – what an example to set!)
Although you would like us all to believe
that you are putting the interests of this country at the forefront, neither of you are doing that, you seem
more interested in oneupmanship, in scoring points off each other and denigrating
each other, to the detriment of this country and its people. It seems to be all
about you as individuals, not about
what you can do for this country!
It is fast becoming a place that I do not
recognize, as the place I always thought, was the best place in the world to be
!!! But no longer!
You are not listening to the people of this
country.
I am watching the wholesale deterioration of
living standards in this country, and yet according to you, on a world stage we
are doing better than most countries. Really?
The gap is widening between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have-nots’. I see homeless people
on the streets, our hospitals under-funded and understaffed, our health system in
an absolutely disgraceful state, and yet I see billions of dollars being spent aborad,
in aid to other countries, before attending to this country's needs !
I see the selling off of water rights to
foreign interests – why? Especially when you go to great lengths to tell us
that water is a finite resource, which supposedly we must all be careful with
how we use it, so that we ensure we have it for the future?
You have instituted a Carbon Tax( which you know is just another tax ) which will
make no appreciable difference to carbon emissions at all, since the main
culprits will simply buy carbon offset points from third world countries!
A tax, which in spite of all your arguments for it, you are doing alone, as other
major countries neither believe in it nor embrace it!
Now let's talk about multiculturalism. People
have come here from other countries, for a better life, for more years than I
have been alive, and I am 60 years old.
Pre- and post-war immigrants came for a
better life, settled in and became wonderful contributors to this country. All
have contributed to the rich diversity of this country, and some descendants
have even fought for this country. They
have become UK citizens and were glad to, and they had no handouts from the Government
either, they worked bloody hard for everything they’ve got!
I have never before had a problem with any race
of people coming to live here, but I do now!
Please tell me why we have areas in towns and
cities, on large estates all over the country, where police do not, and will not go, for fear of their life?
Please tell me why we can no longer have
religion in schools for fear of offending someone?
Please tell me why religious Christmas
observances are no longer allowed in some schools for fear of offending someone?
Please tell me how Christmas decorations in
some stores might offfend someone?
Please tell me why we have to have segregated
days in some swimming centres for fear of offending someone?
Please tell me why Christmas has been
replaced by ‘Winterval, for fear of offending someone?
Please tell me why we have some radical
clerics demanding Sharia Law in this country when if we were in their country, we
wouldn’t even be allowed to build a chapel or church, let alone live by our own
laws?
Please tell me why our laws need to be
changed, so as not to offend someone?
Please tell me why we are fast becoming a minority
voice, in our own country, because of political correctness?
Please tell me why Britons cannot legally
wear a motorbike helmet covering their head in a bank and yet it is ok for a
foreign visitor to wear a Burqa which covers the whole of the face?
And please tell me why, when those people who
want asylum here wreck our detention centres, they are still accepted here ?
What does that say about this government's
priorities?
The British people I speak to have genuine
concerns about becoming a second class minority in our own country, and many of
the reasons for it are listed above. Are you so blind that you cannot see this?
And no, this does not make me a racist! If I
did not like Catholics or Protestants would I be considered racist? Of course
not!
Why is it then, that if we object to what is
happening in our country we are immediately labelled ‘racist’ in an attempt to
shut us up?
We are fighting radical Muslims in
Afghanistan and Iraq , are we not? And I hear you say ‘yes but the Muslims we
have here are "Not like that"’. Well how would we know? Do we hear any
of them coming out and speaking up against radicals ? No, because they’re
afraid to – and who can blame them
Islam
is not compatible with ANY of the values that we hold here in Britain! Are not
the experiences of France and the Netherlands examples of that? Why do you
think it would be any different here? We even have a British born radical whose
message is that Britain will become a
Muslim country, under Sharia Law, and that we had ‘better get used to it’.
Will both of you please grow a pair, and
start sticking up for this country and its people?
We are the people who elected you and pay you
to look after our interests!
And you are not doing that by any stretch of the imagination!
I would appreciate an answer from both of
you, if only to convince me that I am not talking to a brick wall (although to
be honest, the brick walls behind which I live do at least stand up for me)!
Anyone reading this, (since I doubt if TweedleDave
and TweedleEd ever will) please let’s get this out to as many people as
possible, and keep forwarding it and reposting it.
And if you have people in the press or if you
know Politicians – let them know we are dis-satisfied with their behaviour !
29 March 2012
Francis F*****g Maude - genius in waiting!
Well, there you go - I've done my bit to ensure the country, not to mention my family, keeps on motoring.
I've just filled up the wife's little red runaround (her car - my God you've got a filthy mind!), which cost not very much, and the 4x4, which cost not far short of three figures (but is so much fun when you go off-road!) as instructed by the Hon Francis Maude. What I haven't done, in direct defiance of this paragon of self-deluding egotistical twattishness, is fill my garage with little plastic bombs. And here's why....
It's a long time since I worked in the insurance industry, but I do distinctly remember, from my days four decades ago dealing with insurance for Motor Traders, that petrol is pretty dicey stuff. Well, no, to be accurate, petrol vapour is pretty dicey stuff.
It is, for instance pretty damned difficult to set light to petrol (please don't try it - sometimes it's quite easy!!) It is however, amazingly simple to set light to petrol vapour. Your mobile phone will do it, if it rings at the wrong time. That tiny little spark between your finger and your car door will do it if the concentration is high enough (like in your garage at home, for instance).
I remember seeing a video, all those tens of years ago, where they threw a lit blowtorch (they being firemen, or pyromaniacs, or some such) into a full fuel tank - not a little 50 litre tank mind - no, this one was a petrol station-type tank holding in excess of 25000 litres.
Result? The flame on the blow torch went out when it hit the liquid petrol.
Then they emptied the tank, waited a while, and threw a match in.
Result? Several tens of square metres of concrete took off vertically at a speed a Harrier Jump Jet would struggle to keep up with, to the accompaniment of a ball of fire that topped out at about 50 metres across and 150 metres high. It was impressive. It was petrol vapour. It was, to be honest, bloody terrifying.
And Francis Maude has just suggested that up and down the country, in tiny villages, rural areas, and crowded housing estates, we should all store some petrol in our garages in jerry cans.
And sadly, there are eejits out there, right now, while you're reading this, who are doing exactly that.
And I imagine, in the middle east, Al Qaida bosses are saying to themselves: "Well that'll save the cost of a few suicide bombs. Thank you Francis - thank you."
You couldn't make it up if you tried. Really.
I've just filled up the wife's little red runaround (her car - my God you've got a filthy mind!), which cost not very much, and the 4x4, which cost not far short of three figures (but is so much fun when you go off-road!) as instructed by the Hon Francis Maude. What I haven't done, in direct defiance of this paragon of self-deluding egotistical twattishness, is fill my garage with little plastic bombs. And here's why....
It's a long time since I worked in the insurance industry, but I do distinctly remember, from my days four decades ago dealing with insurance for Motor Traders, that petrol is pretty dicey stuff. Well, no, to be accurate, petrol vapour is pretty dicey stuff.
It is, for instance pretty damned difficult to set light to petrol (please don't try it - sometimes it's quite easy!!) It is however, amazingly simple to set light to petrol vapour. Your mobile phone will do it, if it rings at the wrong time. That tiny little spark between your finger and your car door will do it if the concentration is high enough (like in your garage at home, for instance).
I remember seeing a video, all those tens of years ago, where they threw a lit blowtorch (they being firemen, or pyromaniacs, or some such) into a full fuel tank - not a little 50 litre tank mind - no, this one was a petrol station-type tank holding in excess of 25000 litres.
Result? The flame on the blow torch went out when it hit the liquid petrol.
Then they emptied the tank, waited a while, and threw a match in.
Result? Several tens of square metres of concrete took off vertically at a speed a Harrier Jump Jet would struggle to keep up with, to the accompaniment of a ball of fire that topped out at about 50 metres across and 150 metres high. It was impressive. It was petrol vapour. It was, to be honest, bloody terrifying.
And Francis Maude has just suggested that up and down the country, in tiny villages, rural areas, and crowded housing estates, we should all store some petrol in our garages in jerry cans.
And sadly, there are eejits out there, right now, while you're reading this, who are doing exactly that.
And I imagine, in the middle east, Al Qaida bosses are saying to themselves: "Well that'll save the cost of a few suicide bombs. Thank you Francis - thank you."
You couldn't make it up if you tried. Really.
26 March 2012
Night Skies
Just got back from taking the dogs out for a stroll, and am reeling from what has been, even by the standards I've got used to, an incredible star-spotting experience!
The sky is absolutely pitch black (apart from the usual light pollution from our nearest English city, Plymouth), and the stars are so clear, and bright, it's like looking at an SFX-enhanced film slide.
To the North, both the Big Dipper, part of the Ursa Major constellation, and the Little Dipper (ditto) are clearly visible, with Polaris in the Little Dipper giving a clear indication of North for those of us who don't carry a compass.
60 degrees to the east, the setting crescent moon is so bright it almost destroys your night vision, and just below the line joining the bottom horn of the crescent to the top, and apparently only an inch or so away from the top of the crescent, Venus is doing its best to outshine the moon. Venus is the second brightest object in the night sky after the moon, but tonight it's a really close call.
There are loads of constellations visible too - apart from the Dippers, Orion is still visible above the Eastern horizon, and there's also Casseiopia, Gemini, Ursa Major and Minor, and some whose names escape me.
In Orion, Betelgeuse is a big orange blog up and left from Orion's belt, the line of three stars supposedly circling the hunter's waist, and the bright blue star down and left from the belt is Sirius, thought by the ancients to be the eye of Orion's hunting dog.
Almost directly due south, and about 60 degrees above the horizon is the daily-diminishing red spot that is Mars, past its closest point of approach to Earth, but still clearly the red planet.
I don't always appreciate taking the dogs out at 11o'clock at night, but on a night like tonight, living in an area with minimal light pollution (thanks again, Plymouth) - well, it's hard not to enjoy the free, best-ever science programme around.
And I was spared Dr Brian Cox standing on the nearby hill staring wistfully outwards - I got to do that for myself.
The sky is absolutely pitch black (apart from the usual light pollution from our nearest English city, Plymouth), and the stars are so clear, and bright, it's like looking at an SFX-enhanced film slide.
To the North, both the Big Dipper, part of the Ursa Major constellation, and the Little Dipper (ditto) are clearly visible, with Polaris in the Little Dipper giving a clear indication of North for those of us who don't carry a compass.
60 degrees to the east, the setting crescent moon is so bright it almost destroys your night vision, and just below the line joining the bottom horn of the crescent to the top, and apparently only an inch or so away from the top of the crescent, Venus is doing its best to outshine the moon. Venus is the second brightest object in the night sky after the moon, but tonight it's a really close call.
There are loads of constellations visible too - apart from the Dippers, Orion is still visible above the Eastern horizon, and there's also Casseiopia, Gemini, Ursa Major and Minor, and some whose names escape me.
In Orion, Betelgeuse is a big orange blog up and left from Orion's belt, the line of three stars supposedly circling the hunter's waist, and the bright blue star down and left from the belt is Sirius, thought by the ancients to be the eye of Orion's hunting dog.
Almost directly due south, and about 60 degrees above the horizon is the daily-diminishing red spot that is Mars, past its closest point of approach to Earth, but still clearly the red planet.
I don't always appreciate taking the dogs out at 11o'clock at night, but on a night like tonight, living in an area with minimal light pollution (thanks again, Plymouth) - well, it's hard not to enjoy the free, best-ever science programme around.
And I was spared Dr Brian Cox standing on the nearby hill staring wistfully outwards - I got to do that for myself.
16 December 2011
Bah Humbug
Oh yes, it's here again!
The annual 'spend too much, it'll be okay' ritual, enjoyed by everyone in inverse proportion to their ability to afford it.
The time of year when the simple task of buying a couple of days groceries becomes the kind of job that would be refused as too dangerous by the UN Peace Keeping Force.
The season of goodwill to all men, as demonstrated by the screaming hordes of numpties present in every high street in the land, knocking over old ladies and kids in their determination to run up their credit card debt to a level which would make George Osborne look like a miser.
The miserable frigging fortnight when something as simple as sending/receiving anything by post is a gamble of monumental proportions, both in terms of 'will it arrive in time?' and 'will it arrive at all?'.
And of course at a time when normal life is suspended in favour of crass materialism, the weather turns to shit, just to make sure you don't manage to extract even the smallest smidgeon of a shadow of a sliver of a particle of joy out of your days.
Still, it's not all bad. Not quite.
In between fighting to get to the stores, fighting to get to the checkout in the stores, fighting to get out of the stores, fighting to get home, fighting with the missus about how far ahead of Christmas (dammit, I swore not to use that word!) it's reasonable to stop having to do DiY (or any other form of work), fighting with the fairy lights that won't work even though they worked perfectly when you put them away, and fighting with the family about when it will be permissible to visit them, there is the soothing knowledge that for a few hours on Christmas Eve (dammit there's that bloody word again), and again on New Year's Eve, I can sit quietly up at Rame Head doing my bit as a watchkeeper for National Coastwatch.
There won't be a lot happening. Most of the yachties won't be out sailing on either day, the fishermen won't be out much as the shops won't be open the following day, the Navy won't be exercising, because they can't afford the fuel, and the big commercial vessels will be too far out to worry about. Hopefully the visibility will be okay and the watch will consist of peaceful contemplation of the ocean, with frequent trips to the galley to make another coffee.
As a watchkeeper, you never want anything exciting to happen, as that would probably mean someone being put at risk, but you want it even less around the 'winterval' holiday.
To everyone who will be out at sea over the holiday period, I wish you calm seas and soft winds, a safe passage and a quiet berth.
To everyone else, Happy New Year!
Mike
PS If you'd like to see what National Coastwatch is about, feel free to look in on our YouTube video at
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MDLhjFm2_gM
The annual 'spend too much, it'll be okay' ritual, enjoyed by everyone in inverse proportion to their ability to afford it.
The time of year when the simple task of buying a couple of days groceries becomes the kind of job that would be refused as too dangerous by the UN Peace Keeping Force.
The season of goodwill to all men, as demonstrated by the screaming hordes of numpties present in every high street in the land, knocking over old ladies and kids in their determination to run up their credit card debt to a level which would make George Osborne look like a miser.
The miserable frigging fortnight when something as simple as sending/receiving anything by post is a gamble of monumental proportions, both in terms of 'will it arrive in time?' and 'will it arrive at all?'.
And of course at a time when normal life is suspended in favour of crass materialism, the weather turns to shit, just to make sure you don't manage to extract even the smallest smidgeon of a shadow of a sliver of a particle of joy out of your days.
Still, it's not all bad. Not quite.
In between fighting to get to the stores, fighting to get to the checkout in the stores, fighting to get out of the stores, fighting to get home, fighting with the missus about how far ahead of Christmas (dammit, I swore not to use that word!) it's reasonable to stop having to do DiY (or any other form of work), fighting with the fairy lights that won't work even though they worked perfectly when you put them away, and fighting with the family about when it will be permissible to visit them, there is the soothing knowledge that for a few hours on Christmas Eve (dammit there's that bloody word again), and again on New Year's Eve, I can sit quietly up at Rame Head doing my bit as a watchkeeper for National Coastwatch.
There won't be a lot happening. Most of the yachties won't be out sailing on either day, the fishermen won't be out much as the shops won't be open the following day, the Navy won't be exercising, because they can't afford the fuel, and the big commercial vessels will be too far out to worry about. Hopefully the visibility will be okay and the watch will consist of peaceful contemplation of the ocean, with frequent trips to the galley to make another coffee.
As a watchkeeper, you never want anything exciting to happen, as that would probably mean someone being put at risk, but you want it even less around the 'winterval' holiday.
To everyone who will be out at sea over the holiday period, I wish you calm seas and soft winds, a safe passage and a quiet berth.
To everyone else, Happy New Year!
Mike
PS If you'd like to see what National Coastwatch is about, feel free to look in on our YouTube video at
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MDLhjFm2_gM
14 September 2011
Broadband - why?
Ha!
Just when you thought you'd got rid of me - I'm back.
But only in a very limited sense. I have been investigating why it is that my broadband speeds are so much lower than everyone else's in the entire country (and lower than many people living in mud huts in the Amazon rainforest).
And I've come to the conclusion that it's just plain, simple racism.
Racism? Surely not, you cry. Not in the 21st century!
Well, yes, I'm afraid it is. It must be. After all, we have 21st century technology - 150n-band routers, multi-tasking multi-processor computers, servers the size of shoeboxes with 1000 times the computing power than was used to take man to the moon (please, let's not do the whole conspiracy-theory thing right now), and the capability of using little fibre optic cables to send voices and information from one side of the world to the other.
Therefore the fact that my broadband is not much faster than dial-up (remember that - 90s technology with sound effects) is down to racism.
Let's look at the facts:
1 I live in Cornwall. It's a glorious country (that's not a misprint for county, by the way), with stunning scenery, fabulous beaches and of course, the inimitable pasty.
2 My ISP is Orange. Orange is part of what we used to call Wanadoo. Which is a wholly owned subsidiary of France Telecom. They're bloody FRENCH!!!
3 My telephone line is provided by BT. (Actually, everyone's phone line is provided by BT. You might be a TalkTalk customer, or an Orange (spit) customer, or whatever, but BT is the only provided of telephone lines in what is laughingly referred to as the United Kingdom.) And the clue there is in the expanded name of that anti-customer-service conglomerate - BRITISH Telecom.
Cornwall, I am reliably informed by the local Cornish guy, has a charter granted to it in the 11th century enabling it to provide its own monarch. Centuries later, the English realised what they had done, and tried to do away with this charter, but the Cornish were too canny, and it never happened. The best the English could do was put in place their own lackey, who was henceforth known as the Duke of Cornwall. (Mind you, Cornish guy also thinks dogs are the children of the devil, and tourists only come here to crap in our fields - or some such).
But ever since then, the English have hated Cornwall. And British Telecom is of course English (or British as the English prefer to call it, as long as it is doing okay - like Zola Budd, Greg Rusedski and Andy Murray).
And of course, they keep claiming that Cornwall is actually part of England, and the French, who know no better (and probably don't want to), hate everything they perceive to be English.
Which is why my bastard broadband doesn't work properly.
There - now I feel better.
I'm off for a lie down in a dark room, plus it's time for my medication!
Just when you thought you'd got rid of me - I'm back.
But only in a very limited sense. I have been investigating why it is that my broadband speeds are so much lower than everyone else's in the entire country (and lower than many people living in mud huts in the Amazon rainforest).
And I've come to the conclusion that it's just plain, simple racism.
Racism? Surely not, you cry. Not in the 21st century!
Well, yes, I'm afraid it is. It must be. After all, we have 21st century technology - 150n-band routers, multi-tasking multi-processor computers, servers the size of shoeboxes with 1000 times the computing power than was used to take man to the moon (please, let's not do the whole conspiracy-theory thing right now), and the capability of using little fibre optic cables to send voices and information from one side of the world to the other.
Therefore the fact that my broadband is not much faster than dial-up (remember that - 90s technology with sound effects) is down to racism.
Let's look at the facts:
1 I live in Cornwall. It's a glorious country (that's not a misprint for county, by the way), with stunning scenery, fabulous beaches and of course, the inimitable pasty.
2 My ISP is Orange. Orange is part of what we used to call Wanadoo. Which is a wholly owned subsidiary of France Telecom. They're bloody FRENCH!!!
3 My telephone line is provided by BT. (Actually, everyone's phone line is provided by BT. You might be a TalkTalk customer, or an Orange (spit) customer, or whatever, but BT is the only provided of telephone lines in what is laughingly referred to as the United Kingdom.) And the clue there is in the expanded name of that anti-customer-service conglomerate - BRITISH Telecom.
Cornwall, I am reliably informed by the local Cornish guy, has a charter granted to it in the 11th century enabling it to provide its own monarch. Centuries later, the English realised what they had done, and tried to do away with this charter, but the Cornish were too canny, and it never happened. The best the English could do was put in place their own lackey, who was henceforth known as the Duke of Cornwall. (Mind you, Cornish guy also thinks dogs are the children of the devil, and tourists only come here to crap in our fields - or some such).
But ever since then, the English have hated Cornwall. And British Telecom is of course English (or British as the English prefer to call it, as long as it is doing okay - like Zola Budd, Greg Rusedski and Andy Murray).
And of course, they keep claiming that Cornwall is actually part of England, and the French, who know no better (and probably don't want to), hate everything they perceive to be English.
Which is why my bastard broadband doesn't work properly.
There - now I feel better.
I'm off for a lie down in a dark room, plus it's time for my medication!
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