Seeing Out the Angel

What a superb year it has been. For me, that is. Generally it's been a vicious, murderous, unrepentant year of horror, death and deprivation... but that's most years isn't it? I'm not proud to be part of the human race and rarely invite them round to dinner (thanks Doug).

Fuck knows what 2012 will bring, beyond this coming Saturday night I have no firm plans whatsoever... something will turn up, it usually does, and it usually costs money.

Christmas has been quiet, as I prefer it. Having spent most of 2011 in a state of chemically-induced anaesthesia I thought, why stop now? So I've spent the last few days steadily numbing myself. A blinding night out on 17th with most of the usual suspects and much silliness and falling down was my socialising swansong of the year, this is hibernation time now. I have a 'plan' for next year's blogging but probably won't stick to it so I don't even know why I'm writing this... Ooh, very self-defeating!

For reasons I myself find difficult to explain, I have listened to the following piece of music every new year's eve since 1985, usually just after midnight. Nine and a half minutes of sublime genius. Enjoy.

And have Happy Future Days! There will be much more Sketchiness in 2012, stay tuned...

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Sweaty Cocks

Hahahahah... I've just changed the welcome message on my mobile phone to SWEATY COCKS!!

Haaahahahaha. :)









sorry, just trying to lighten the mood...



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From Where I Am

So, well then, here we are. I’ve made it to day no. 339 of 2011 and the current state of play is as follows…

My 47th Christmas is just under three weeks away and I have, as yet, developed no real enthusiasm for, or interest in planning how I am going to approach it this year. For the first time in my life I am due to be working on Christmas day. Not being a Christian I am untroubled by any concerns that I may be missing the opportunity to worship and be thankful… I am however somewhat concerned that this means I probably won’t be able to start drinking alcohol quite as early as I usually do on 25th December, i.e. shortly after breakfast.

(I say ‘probably’ because I may well smuggle a hipflask to work and partake of something warming just to be bloody minded and in the hope that they wouldn’t sack someone on Christmas day… would they?)*

The reality of ‘working on Christmas day’ usually means either not going in at all or getting sent home after about 2 hours, or so I’m told. I remain firmly sceptical of this as the person who told me - the main site manager - has consistently lied about everything else this year so why would he change tack now?

Due to the past several months being peppered with extremely hard work, very long hours** and lots of very intense socialising I am feeling generally run-down and a bit depressed… most of this is my own fault, some of it is work and the generally short, cold, grey days this time of year do little to excite me. I am dealing with this by self-medicating with a range of illicit substances. It is only helping in a short-term way, which isn’t quite bad enough to convince me to stop.

Most of my immediate family, no, actually - ALL of my immediate family died at this time of year (the most recent departure being three weeks ago, I didn’t attend the funeral. I don’t do funerals any more. The next one I attend will be my own, if you can call that ‘attending’) So I generally feel a bit low through November/December/January as I firmly associate this time with gloom, death and constipation.

My huge plans for next year involving relocation of life and career will probably have to be put on hold for various reasons. Again. This is not helping my general mood as it gives me little to look forward to apart from more of the same.

Things keep breaking. Some of them are easily fixed (trodden-on spectacles can be gently manipulated back into shape. I discovered this yesterday), some are not (broken windows can be temporarily fixed using cardboard and duct-tape, however this is not very aesthetically pleasing or particularly weather-proof), others cause emotional distress but aren’t particularly important overall (dropping the mug with a childishly endearing poem about hugging on it which I bought for my girlfriend in 1990 when she was 21 and which she used every single day afterwards didn’t really go down very well. My protestations that she was lucky it had lasted this long didn’t help.) and some are bloody expensive (damn you cooker, you’ve left me penniless for Christmas)

And another year slides slowly to a bewildering conclusion. Bewilderment, however, is my normal state of mind so I’m cool with that. Everyone I know is either trapped in a low paid job they find vaguely distasteful and constantly inconvenient or they’re out of work wondering where the next meal is going to come from (that plastic pot which says ‘Pot Noodle’ probably). Several of them are on medication for depression. Yes - SEVERAL - which is depressing in itself. Not sure what that says about being friends with me either.

BUT, onwards and…er… onwards. This is the point where I begin a mild panic over Christmas which lasts until the day itself when I banish all concerns using a mixture of vast amounts of alcohol, vast amounts of food and moderate amounts of tobacco and other herbal smoking mixtures… then I spend a week feeling like shit, then it’s a new year, a whole new 365 days to fuck up.

I can hardly wait.

Here's a cute winter picture to cheer us all up. See you next time.

* Probably.


** Obviously all the hours were the same length, what I mean is that there have been too many difficult hours running consecutively. ‘Long hours’, what a ridiculous phrase, sometimes I’m embarrassed to be English. I better get used to that feeling for 2012 I suppose…but I digress…



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Another One Bites the Dust

RIP The Western Black Rhino, officially now declared extinct. Thanks in the main to poaching. Go humans, another couple of centuries and we'll be eating each other because there won't be anything else left.



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You Don't Have a Clue

Wow, it must be that time of the year again... I always seem to become lazy and unmotivated through the winter, I guess it's only natural... so this blog will probably be patchy and even more rubbish than usual for a while before springing back to life around March next year. (Heh, see what I did there?)

I made a decision last January that 2011 was going to be a year of excess and hedonism, and found it very easy to stick with that decision! Yes, quite a childish way for someone in their mid 40s to behave perhaps, but this year has been one of those 'end of an era' years. I've been aware for a while that change is on the horizon, it's happening crushingly slowly but the wheels are turning nonetheless and 2012 is going to be a year of hard work. Bugger. I hate it when a party ends, but always ensure I'm the last to leave, dragging it out beyond all necessity. As outlined in an earlier post this was also a year-long celebration of an important anniversary (yeah I know - any excuse!).

Something strange - two pubs in particular have featured heavily in this year's nonsense, two very different pubs in very different places with a very different clientele but both friendly, fun and reasonably cheap. And just as my 'summer of love' was winding to a close, they both unexpectedly closed within a week of each other! It's as though life is ensuring all temptation is removed now, what the hell? Or maybe I broke them. Very odd, and very sad, one of them has featured heavily in my life since 1981. Damn, it must be time to grow up, I always knew this day would come.

So, a few months of biding my time now before turning in a new direction. I'm gonna take things easy for a while, build reserves and get fat. Yeah. Meantime I will attempt to keep this place alive, the occasional CPR session should just about keep it ticking over.

This says it all :

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Let's Get It On

Saturday afternoon - 1st October - 28 degrees outside in the burning sunshine, I know, but let's not question it, eh? Decamping to a friend's flat in a couple of hours to meet up with other nutters in order to drink beer, eat takeaway and watch Dr Who...

Thenceforth into town (luckily the flat is actually in the centre of town so this involves, er, going downstairs) where more friends will be met and much more alcohol consumed, no doubt in several establishments... later still, avoiding the numerous grunting semi-evolved hominids intent on violence, we'll make our way to some form of dancing venue, consume still more alcohol and 'dance' for a bit.... I will attempt, probably half-heartedly, to avoid the brain-shredders known as Jagerbombs (ohhh, but they taste so good... and have the effect of class A drugs... not that that has anything to do with it of course. Heh)

One thing which always happens to me around this point in the evening is that I lose the ability to control any kind of basic device, ie mobile phones... there is almost always a point where someone goes awol and the cry goes out "Capt! Call Dave, find out where he is!" and after fumbling incompetantly with my phone for a couple of minutes, calling a couple of people who are asleep miles away, taking a photo of my left leg and a video of my crotch, I have to hand it over to someone else. That's normally when the missing person walks up and says "I was next door, been calling you for the last 10 minutes"

Probably then back to the flat, assuming gravity allows us, where we will talk utter bollocks for a while before making our merry ways homeward into the Sunday dawn. Couple of hours kip and out into the sunshine again (who am I kidding here?) and who knows, a lunchtime pint or three...?

Well, that's the general plan, that's how it usually goes, things don't always happen as hoped though... updates to follow... if my brain still functions...

Cheers!

POST-MATCH REPORT :

Hmmm. After a confusing episode of Dr Who, during which the dog tried to die, the indoor badminton began

Once that and guitar hero was completed (yawn) we shuffled into town, saw some fighting, danced like sweaty fools and the night nosedived into the usual incomprehensible stupidity

Crashing finally occurred around 5am. Apparently we had a good time, but don't ask me, I wasn't there, I know nothing, there was no traffic cone, nobody shouted "CHUTNEY" at a horse and the gerbils will be absolutely fine. Once they find their way out of the trumpet.



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Badge of Evil

In the early 80s badges were big. Big badges. We all wore badges. They acted as proof of identity, confirmation of which particular tribe one belonged to. Mine were worn with pride on jacket lapels, jumpers, coats, even hats. And they were all terrible. I recently found an old bag of badges, and here are a few :

Firstly, the silly badges - specifically worn so that young ladies would approach, peer closely at them (thus getting within sniffing distance) and exclaim "Ha ha ha, brilliant, what an amazing sense of humour you must have, will you sleep with me?" This, of course, never happened.

Then there were the band badges - obviously designed to attract like-minded fans, and young ladies who would check out the badges and exclaim "Wow, you're into -insert band name here- , what a discerning taste in music you must have - fancy a shag?" This never happened either, quite possibly my choice of bands had a fair amount to do with that...

And finally the desperately obscure badges, usually connected to music but consisting of strange symbols culled from album covers or band logos which only the most fervent fans would recognise, thus absolutely guaranteeing that you'd get laid at some point due to the obvious deep thought applied to your badge-wearing... nope, never happened...

I never wore political badges. I didn't know what most of them even meant. It was a simple world I inhabited, and pretty damn sexless. Couldn't understand why at the time, but it's all so clear now...

Ahh, hindsight...

DAMN YOU BADGES!



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Wonderful in Young Life

This autumn heralds something of an anniversary for myself and an old and trusted friend. A 30th anniversary to be exact. A relationship began in autumn 1981 which endures to this day, despite many many changes both good and bad through the years. It's complex yet also very very simple... two like minds which gelled and continue to spark off each other in an oddly combustible way. I'll say no more, but these pictures tell a private little story of the year it all began :

A celebration is occurring, and has been for several months... it's non-specific and so far has involved much merriment and mischief.... with more to come... I fully hope that this particular layer of my life continues to deepen and swell with the richness of a firm friendship for many years to come...



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Don't Look Down

There are people out there - and I know this because I used to be one of them - who don't believe depression actually exists as a clinical condition. The old 'Oh just pull yourself together' brigade... you know who you are...

Well I can tell you for a fact that it bloody DOES exists, and at its worst it is utterly crippling. Having a broken brain is horrendous because it affects every single aspect of your life. I was knocked down by the depression bus several years ago and the bloody thing just kept on reversing over me, again and again. I didn't go out for years. I lived in my own headspace, a dark, cold little place without joy or optimism. It's reasonably easy to pretend to everyone that you're OK, you don't want their opinions or sympathy, so you carry on day-to-day but keep hidden in your burrow as much as possible and feel that your life is crap and that you are worthless and hated.

Anyway, I pulled through it all. Yes, it can be defeated. And for the last 3 years or so I have been myself again, not that strange, angry, nasty little shit I became for several 'lost' years. Suddenly I am loving life again, now with the foreknowledge that a simple chemical imbalance can screw a life up and chuck it in the bin, I take nothing for granted. I've managed to somehow develop a large social circle, with so many different dynamics and levels that it's becoming a full time job just to keep track of all my friends and decide where to go, with who, why and for how long. This is a world which was closed off to me for so long I stopped believing it even existed.

So, to all my current social buddies in the myriad pubs, bars and venues, flats, houses and towns we inhabit I'd like to say 'Fuck knows why you hang out with me, but thanks anyway. Mine's a pint."

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Inane Thought for the Day #2

If we could somehow connect Lowri Turner's jaws to a series of wind turbines the entire country's energy problems would be solved at a stroke...


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Life's Unexpected Delights #4

When you enter a room at work and find a dislikeable, aggressive and generally surly co-worker flapping a dead lobster through the air and making stupid "wak-wak-wak" noises and you realise he is just a silly little tosser after all.


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Inane Thought for the Day #1

Using the analogy of the planet Earth being one single vast living organism ; you know those days when you wake up and you just feel, you know, crappy. Your skin's greasy, your mouth tastes like a cat's arse, various bits ache, your nose is blocked up and last night's curry is straining for release...

I reckon that's probably how Earth feels most days now.

However, it's gonna take more than a good shit and a clean toothbrush to make things better this time...



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Whistlin' Past the Graveyard

Dead of night. Very drunk. Thought I'd pop in and take some pics. This particular graveyard is down an unpaved country lane and surrounded by trees and fields. I was the only living human for quite some distance... I hope...

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Telephone Operator

Having been with the same mobile company for many years now, and actually having found them very reliable, I was quite chuffed to be offered an iPhone 4 for just 50 quid. However, being the luddite I am I absolutely have no need whatsoever for a smartphone. So I took a £25 reduction on my monthly tariff instead.

WINS. As those pesky yougsters might say.



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Forgotten Years

Whilst in the process of clearing out piles of old folders and plastic bags in a neglected room I've come across some ancient gems. Mostly of interest only to myself and immediate family, nonetheless I intend to share a few found items with the blogosphere.

This is (was?) my father cira 1972 - the face of Minster Fuels :

His name wasn't Roy, for some reason 'Les' was not considered the right name for a heating engineer. On the reverse is an advert for 3-piece suites, reduced from £60 to £42. You wouldn't get a bloody 3-piece SUIT for that price now, let alone furniture!

The following picture is definitely an indication of how things change ;

That's my mother and I, Christmas 1966. I am proudly clutching my new golliwog. Guess what, I grew up without becoming racist. Funny that.

Here's me in 1965 :

And here's me half an hour ago :

Which proves, if nothing else, that dogs like me even if humans don't. Also the hair's come full circle.

Finally (for now at least) a family picnic from 1964. At an aerodrome in Hampshire. We weren't fussy. (I say 'we', but as this was taken in the summer I was merely a collection of sexless cells with no identity at this time. Some say I still am.)

I suspect more of this nonsense will follow soon....



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The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round

...except when they don't.

So, I was walking the dog with a friend yesterday when we encountered a huge scaffolding lorry parked completely over the pavement on a single track lane leaving just enough room for cars to pass, but only just. We carefully passed it (by having to walk up the middle of the road) while being balefully watched by three dead-eyed hairy-arses carrying scaffolding poles and planks to and from the lorry.

One of the 'men' stacked a pile of planks against the side of the lorry, reducing the passing space even further. An average sized car would JUST be able to pass. That's when the bus arrived. We both stopped and turned to witness what happened next. The bus drew up behind the lorry but could go no further. The men stared at the bus. The bus flashed its lights. The men stared at the bus. The driver wound down the window, I couldn't hear what he said to the men but there was no reaction. The men stared at the bus.

Maybe I'm considered soft, but at this point I would have shouted something like "Oops, sorry mate!" and moved the planks to give the bus a fair chance of at least trying to get by. The men stared at the bus. I was fully expecting one of them to rip his shirt off and start bellowing and beating his chest.

Eventually, after several cars and a bike had pulled up behind the bus, turned round and buggered off again, the bus slowly squeezed past the lorry, destroying someone's hedge in the process. The men stared at the bus. Once it had gone they carried on loading their lorry in silence.

My friend and I looked at each other, our mouths open, stunned by this weird display of macho ignorance. It seems that it is considered a weakness by a certain portion of the population to demonstrate any glimmer of thoughtfulness or consideration towards others, or indeed to even acknowledge their existence. I shouldn't be surprised, I already knew that, but it's always stunning to actually see it in action and it confuses and saddens me every time.

My friend is a librarian. She doesn't expect to encounter any of those men again anytime soon.

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'These Frequencies are Changing...

...a soft acceleration, across the surface of the sea...' - I do like those lyrics, courtesy of John Foxx the ever-regenerating quiet man. Music and wordplay is so subjective, but right now they evoke a certain empathy within me as things around me do seem to be gently altering at the moment.

It's very possible that within the next few months I will have to initiate and deal with a major life change, new job, new house, new area to live in. It's something I've been toying with for several years now and things have shifted into a position which dictates that it's probably now or never. Strange how 20 years ago I'd have just got on with it, embracing the adventure and the change... and yet right now, even though the possible outcome will mean a vastly improved lifestyle in a place I really want to be, it's utterly terrifying! Thus prevarication has set in. Someone kick my arse please?

I had an amazing drunken day out with some very good friends yesterday, alternating between pubs and wobbly woodland walks, ending up at the finest drinking establishment in town for a nightcap. Reality-dodging can be fun!

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INTERMISSION

Big Blue Sun

Finally the weather has realised it's June, right at the end. Loverly.

Off to a barbeque this evening, it's all become terribly complicated ; the barbequee is a popular lady and the weather's scorching and word's got around - it could well be shoulder-to-shoulder with various hot-food-against-bare-skin and alcohol-fuelled-inapropriate-touching incidents conceivable.

Might be fun!

I won't hesitate to report any and all hilarious barbeque occurrences in my next split-yer-sides blog of hilarity...

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Partially Submerged

This little news item caught my bloodshot eye today :

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-tyne-13830017

The human race seems to be getting stupider by the day. At least, humans who live in 'civilised society' are. I'm probably over-simplifying but my opinion is that this is a result of our endless quest to make life easy for ourselves. We surround ourselves with an abundance of machines designed to speed life up and cut out the annoying need to think too much.

We are divorcing ourselves from the natural world bit by bit. To digress slightly - I'm not that old but I spent my childhood in a house with no double glazing, loft insulation or central heating. Thus I am perfectly comfortable in lower temperatures - temperatures which younger friends seem to find incredibly disagreeable. If I switch the air conditioning on at work when it gets warm (or what I percieve to be warm anyway) it is generally met with a chorus of complaints until someone switches it off again. I feel that I am more 'hardened' to adverse conditions than the generation beneath me.

Likewise, as a youth I did a great deal of hiking and cycling - I know what to wear and what to expect out in the countryside (generally the unexpected).  If I were to see a danger sign concerning tidal waters I'd bloody well take notice of it, having been nearly stranded by the tide on a beach once while searching for wildlife amongst rocks aged about 12. (Me, not the rocks, I suspect they were a tad older) But many people now have little idea of just how vicious the 'real world' can be. We don't run the bloody planet, it is a vast, dangerous, unpredictable beast. Just because you're in a shiny new car and have spent your life in comfort and ease doesn't mean nature is going to give you a break.

I suppose it is a sign of natural selection at work. I pity all the emergency services now, someone gets a paper cut and they're dialling 999 'cos mummy always made it better for them and they still need to be mothered and smothered and blanketed. If I'd gone to my mum squealing about a cut or graze I'd have been told in no uncertain terms it was my own bloody fault and I should learn to be more careful - so I did. Let your kids hurt themselves, let them get cold and wet and muddy. LET THEM LEARN.

Ironically, with the advent of the internet we have greater access now to information than any generation before us ever. So what do we do? Spend hours playing games, farting about on Facebook and writing vacuous blogs. Heh.


Sadly, for all my experience, I still sometimes think that I too am invincible. Last weekend at a music festival I decided against wearing a hat on a sunny June day and burnt my entire scalp to buggery. Twat.



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Mr Self Destruct

It was a lovely sunny day, albeit a bit breezy, so I took a work break outside. A bloke I sometimes chat to from the business next door wandered over and we put the world to rights for a few minutes. Then we noticed a, shall we say somewhat portly, gentleman in his 50s across the road throwing rubbish into an industrial wheely-bin.

Suddenly he stopped, patted his pockets and peered over the top of the bin. He'd clearly accidentally discarded a personal item. Not very tall, he was only just head and shoulders over the lip of the bin. We watched him peering in until he located the item, then he began trying to reach for it. Standing on tiptoe it was obvious he still couldn't get at it with his short arms and round body. He walked away, towards a pile of old wooden pallets.

"He's not..." said my friend.
"He is!" I replied.
"No way will that take his weight." my friend commented as we watched, agog.

The man rested the pallet against the side of the bin, without propping it against anything. Then he tried to climb up it. He actually tried to climb up it. He really, actually did. That's the part which still confuses me - he was in his 50s and he still tried to climb up it.

He failed. First foot up, fine... second foot up and he crashed straight through the pallet as it simultaneously slid to the ground. He must have lacerated his shin, and he also bashed his stupid face against the side of the bin as he went down.

"I think I called that one." said my friend.
"I think you did." I replied. We probably should have high-fived at that point.

He picked up the remains of the pallet and tried to preserve his dignity by walking nonchalently away, limping slightly, unware that he'd been observed. He dropped the pallet, returned and started trying to scramble over the lip of the bin. While he was  balanced half-in the bin with his legs dangling in the air, the wind blew the lid closed on top of him. By this time we were both bent double, dribbling with mirth.

Now obviously getting quite angry, the man slammed the lid back open but carried on trying to reach his lost item. Just then a younger, taller man arrived and calmly reached inside, easily retrieving the lost object and handing it to him.

This display of shocking stupidity was clearly very funny, but also bloody scary. This was a man with at least 50 years of life experience under his belt and my colleague had spoken to him a few times and could attest to the fact that he seemed to be of sound mind. And yet, in a moment of crisis, he acted like an eight year old. Presumably, at the end of his working day he was going to get into a motor vehicle and drive down roads crowded with other vehicles, pedestrians and cyclists whilst using the same brain which had told him it would be ok to try and do something totally impossible.

And we see this sort of thing day in and day out. Just listening to travel reports on the radio every day it is quite clear to me that a confusingly large percentage of the adult population of the UK (and probably the world) should really never leave their homes and attempt to interact with anything at all, let alone large, metal, fast-moving vehicles.

I can only draw one conclusion from the above observations.

We're doomed. As a race we are poised to slowly self-destruct. And quite frankly, sometimes I think we bloody deserve it.


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Dancing Queen

Saturday night.... I eschewed the usual group get-together in a fairly quiet pub for a chat and instead allowed myself to be persuaded to go to a very loud place and dance... Well, I say 'dance'...

I've always had two, in fact THREE left feet and scuttle around the dance floor flapping my arms like someone having a major convulsion, but the worst thing is I never know what to do with my face. I kind of start off grinning stupidly, then try and relax my features, become really self-conscious and end up closing my eyes with a strange serene expression as though I'm in some kind of trance. Consequently I end up trampling on people.

I am not popular on the dance floor. I need L plates or some kind of sign which says 'Unco-ordinated Twat'.

Hmmm... maybe I'll get a tee shirt made.

I fell over too. In a crowd. No-one helped me up.

I really should stay at home sometimes...




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Life's Unexpected Delights #3

Tapping your fingernail against your teacup while listening to The Pink Panther Theme.


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City As Memory

So, yesterday, while I was here :

I recalled times when I had been here :

and it felt like the difference between :

and :



Goodbye Sarah Jane

Utterly devastated by the news that Elizabeth Sladen passed away today. My first crush as a pre-pubescent Sketchy.

I met her many years later at a Dr Who event at Longleat and as I bumbled some rubbish compliment at her she calmly looked me up and down, smiled warmly and said "Oh, you smell nice!"

And at the end of 'School Reunion', when David Tennant's Doctor hugged her and said "MY Sarah Jane" was I the only one who exclaimed "NO! MY Sarah Jane!"? I doubt it.

Goodbye Sarah Jane.

Life's Unexpected Delights #2

When the bastard Heron which has been stalking your garden pond for weeks is viciously mobbed by a huge flock of gulls. Heh.


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People Are Strange

I guess I've always considered myself 'normal'. But just what the fuck is normal? The same as everybody else? Average? Not tainted by madness? OK, I'm not a serial killer, I don't have sex with animals, I only have one head. But consider the following :

I always remember colours wrongly. If I see a green car, I'll remember it as red and vice versa. I often confuse blue with red also, so it's not a negative colour thing, it's some kind of memory wiring problem. Or does this happen to everyone else too?

I always have to open a packet of crisps/biscuits/sweets/condoms/anything the right way up. Even though it makes no difference whatsoever. It does to me.

If I come home from somewhere and put things down i.e. keys, wallet etc I have to put them all at right angles to each other.

When going to sleep I have to always lie on my left side. It really makes no difference, but I have to do it nonetheless.

When listening to an album I've not heard before I have to listen to a few seconds of each track first before I can play the whole thing from start to finish. This applied to vinyl albums long before CDs existed. CD intro scan was invented just for me.

I find it impossible to urinate if anyone else is in the room. I always head for the cubicle in a public place or hold it in. This has caused me some extremely uncomfortable nights out as it still holds true even if I am very drunk.

When I see a picture of a camel I have to run around in circles for 8 minutes precisely, weeping.

Ok, that last one is not true. But you get my drift. We're all a bit fucked up, yes? I could easily go on all night, but it's getting a bit confessional now. These are the things which make us individual and unique and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Apart from my issues with cottage cheese, obviously...



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Music of the Spheres

Stars sing. I'll just say that again, in an attempt to get my own head around it. Stars. Sing. And I'm not referring to human 'stars'.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-13009718

I was aware of this, I'm sure I've heard it before somewhere but paid little heed. Yet having just seen a news item on the subject and heard some recordings of different star songs I found I was startled, impressed and strangely moved by this phenomenon.

Of course they're not 'singing' as such, merely transmitting radio signals of different tones which can be used by astronomers to gauge their size, age etc. But - and indulge my strange imagination here - what if it isn't just us who can detect their songs? Nature and life being what it is, and our understanding of the universe being so small, what if there are vast, unimaginable forms drifting through the blackness of cold space, navigating by starsong? Collossal beasts with dimensions that would bugger our minds, interpreting a light-driven chorus of radiosonics as they drift and feed. Perhaps they even home in on the sad songs of dying stars and devour their cores, triggering their supernovea... Who knows....

I really must stop smoking this stuff.


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Life's Unexpected Delights #1

When you break wind and the sound it makes is in exactly the same key as the music you are listening to.

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BAGGY TROUSERS

Ah, school days. Many of my peers cite school days as the worst days of their lives. I loved them. Well... at first...

For some reason, and this is a perversity which has followed me through my entire life, as soon as I start to achieve anything and command respect and attention from those around me - particularly people who are trying to teach me something - I completely change tack and do my utmost to prove to them that any faith they have in me is completely misplaced.

For example - here is my first school report, from 1972 :

I quote; interested and lively, enjoys learning, sense of humour ... delighted us on many occasions.

Yep, I was coasting ahead, the grades got better, I became more and more popular. I recently bumped into someone I hadn't seen since those early years and she remembered me as 'the class joker, the one we all wanted to spend playtime with'.

Let's fast forward to 1984 shall we, and my last report before leaving full time education for the final time.

It took me bloody years to pefect the 'all pervading sense of apathy' believe me. Hah! That showed 'em. I was taking 2 A levels at this point, I dropped one and failed the other (well, passed with an E, which is failed let's face it). I then sat back and expected prospective employers to queue at my door offering me the perfect career. That's why I ended up working in supermarkets for 16 years.

So remember kids, being successful is dead easy, anyone can do it, but it takes a special kind of talent to be a miserable failure like me! AND YET... I am not miserable, neither do I consider myself a failure. I am currently very content and healthy and work in a low paid but totally fascinating job in the field of microbiology while my more successful friends with 2.4 children, huge mortgages and demanding management jobs are sodden, overweight, miserable gits.

There's a point to all this but it escapes me right now. That'll be because of my all-pervading sense of apathy I expect.


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AISLE OF PLENTY

Long, long ago, when the world was young and no-one had mobile phones, the internet or Justin flamin' Bieber I worked for a supermarket chain. It was my first job, I knew no better... it was called Fine Fare, now long gone so hopefully this post won't result in any kind of court action.

They made us wear badges like this

And we carried little booklets full of this nonsense :

But what they didn't know was that me and my mates would carefully prise open the margarine tubs in the provisions aisle and write "FUCK OFF" in the margarine with our fingers. Sometimes we even drew big willies as well. It passed the time, what can I say? To my knowledge no customers ever returned the products or complained, but judging by the kind of customers we saw on a day to day basis they probably couldn't read anyway and all that smiling nonsense was wasted on the simple bastards.

Ah happy days. Later I worked for a much larger supermarket chain, still operating today, which was more up my street as their philosophy seemed to be 'Bugger the Customers, Let's Fleece the Stupid Tossers Dry!', and now I am one of those customers it's quite clear that philosophy remains to this day.

I'm not mentioning any names here 'cos they'd have me in court sooner than I could say T....


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MONEY MONEY MONEY

Just watching the live budget transmission, what's going on behind Osborne is actually more interesting ; Clegg and Cameron look as if they're about to run screaming from the room while Danny Alexander is
clearly falling asleep... priceless. A bit like fags and booze from tomorrow I expect...


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LIVING IN THE PAST

Yeah, I used to live there. Strange but innocent times. Here is my blog entry from 26th June 1973 :

So, apparently, the Doctor allowed Timothy to come in my paddling pool. Obviously an event so traumatic that I've blotted it from my memory.

I was so excited by the Tomorrow People that I included an illustration of an action-packed alien attack from the episode I'd watched :

Why I am not now a celebrated artist is anyone's guess...


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IN SEARCH OF SPACE

Never mind all the crap that's going on down here, we've put a spaceship in orbit around Mercury...

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-12761025

'Science' seems to be a dirty word in this country but this really puts the hairs up on the back of my neck, we can only fully understand Earth by studying its near (and far) neighbours, those lifeless spheres which share its orbit around the sun. No, really, I do get quite excited about this stuff. It's all rather fascinating, as Prof Brian Spock might say.


In other topical news, it's Comic Relief Day... sod that, tried it once and it took ages to get the print marks off me knob.


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DOWN HOME TOWN

Crikey! Been checking out the news from around the world lately.. I reckon the best bet is to stay firmly where I am, locked safely away in my own little world. It's quiet, it's green and there are no earthquakes, radiation leaks, tsunamis or popular uprisings (apart from the dog trying to raid the larder damn him) and hardly any idiots, despots or loony celebs.

The workplace is 2 miles away and that's as far as I'm bloody going for a while. Now watch, on my way to work today I'll be irradiated and fall into a crack in the ground full of water while being assaulted by an idiot loony celeb fighting for the republican army...

Me and my big mouth, eh?


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LOST FOR WORDS

No flippancy today. Of course, what has happened in Japan has nothing to do with the closeness of the Moon, or the anger of a deity or any other obscure human imaginings, it was just the planet doing what it does - shifting and stirring as all living things do.

I have never visited Japan but I always found the Japanese spirit and work ethic enviable and the country seems to be a very beautiful place. What has happened over the past few days is tragic on a scale I don't think I've ever previously witnessed.

We are all so tiny.

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LIFE IN TOKYO

Ermmm... with reference to my last post... Ok, I'll shut up now....

DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

So, apparently it's the end of the world next week. Again.

On March 19th we are due for an ocurrence known as a 'Super Moon' when our only natural satellite will be at its closest for 18 years. Such events are said to cause extreme weather conditions. Erm, maybe I've been imagining it but aren't extreme weather events practically a weekly ocurrence these days? Previous Lunar Perigees have ocurred in 1955, 1974, 1992 and 2005. We all remember the earthquakes of '55, the tsunamis of '74, the terrible London hurricane of '92 and the small shower over Droitwich of '05 of course.

Why are we so obsessed with disaster? 11 years ago we were all going to die as every computer system in the world imploded at midninght on December 31st 1999, and only last month a terrible massive solar flare was going to obliterate communications networks all across the globe.

NOTHING HAPPENED. And nothing is exactly what will happen again.

I'll give them a bloody super moon, and I won't wipe my arse first.

HOW IS YOUR LIFE TODAY?

So, I've received my Census form.

I've done a little bit of digging into my family background and seen some transcripts of the old 19th century census forms - they generally just want to know who lives at each address, what their relationships are to each other, what their jobs are and which diseases they have (cos let's face it everyone had at least several ailments in those days, ah, the days when bacteria and viruses could happily flit from body to body without fear of antibiotics or vaccinations, happy days - microbiologically speaking)

This bugger is 32 pages long. They want to know everything. Your favourite type of trousers, did you pick your nose yesterday, what size are your genitals etc etc.

The thing is, my form is already invalid - on page 4 it tells me that Robert Smith lives in my house. I'm bloody certain I would have noticed a pigeon-toed lipsticked sulky goth creeping about the place, singing songs about caterpillars... Maybe he lives in the airing cupboard? In the garage, hiding behind the lawnmower? I'll play some ELO, that'll flush the bastard out.

Anyway, I'm off to measure me dick...

BRAND NEW DAY

Good morning and welcome to this inane babble.

Who am I? Where am I? What the hell's going on? You may well ask... I hope that over the course of the next few solar rotations I may just begin to find a way to answer those questions and many more 'cos I'm buggered if I know...

What have I been up to? Well, let's see, on Saturday I ate some lipstick and met a sex-changing cat. On Sunday I found myself in 1983 (again) and yesterday I consumed magic pixie dust and waved my legs in the air.

With me so far? Believe me, that's only the beginning...