Tuesday, August 29, 2006

That's A Bit More Like It!

So, I got home from the old slave pit today quite early; warmed up the computer, cracked open a (much reduced) cold one, and watched a repeat of Home Improvement on abc1 digital.

All in all, a good feeling.
Front door unlocked, but on the chain.
Suddenly I hear a crump, and go to look. The chain is fully stretched, so I look through the spy hole.
Nobody there.
Go out to look; the fire escape door is just swinging to.
Go on to the stairs; hear the next door up slam.
My resident loony has tried to gain entry, for what purpose god only knew; there's a killer on the road, his head is squirming like a toad...

Anyway, this suits me fine.
Note I don't take the bait and get caught on the motherfucker's home floor.
I ring the police-they aren't actually in the phone book due to endemic incompetence down at the phone company-using a number supplied by my local authority magazine.

They put me through.
This time the police are very interested.
They offer to send someone round to talk.
When they still weren't here by 8pm local, they rang me and apologised and asked how late they'd be welcome and if they couldn't make it what time tomorrow.

I get the feeling that I'm going to splash one very stupid bastard very soon.

Monday, August 28, 2006

It Isn't A Matter Of Opinion.

One might be forgiven for thinking that I had a grudge against the country I live in.
I do.
But there is more than a grain of truth in my commentary.

This from today's Financial Times:

"The crackdown on multibillion-pound 'carousel fraud' is set to step up a gear with German customs authorities this week expected to make a number of arrests after joining forces with the British in an investigation dubbed 'Operation Sunrise'. The scam involves collecting VAT refunds while withholding payments of the tax and has centred on mobile phones.
Fast-escalating, the fraud is estimated to account for a tenth of the UK's exports.
Germany is expected to lose 2 per cent of VAT revenues to the practise."

This was on the front page of the world's premier international financial newspaper.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Feeding Frenzy

Britain; land of pretentiousness and fraud.
Oh, some of the people are very sincere. But once you have learned to understand just what they are sincere about, you see that there are just three real types in this land.
There are the delusional innocent, the delusional guilty, and the confused.
They are delusional because they are unable to concieve of any reality in which human life is foremost; the innocent are the victims, the filling in the sacrifice sandwich which is eaten by the guilty.
The confused are the bowling pins that are in the way of the game, the ballast that fills British society with enough jostle-space and elbows to convince the hunters and hunted that something is going on by way of life.
The delusion of the innocent is that there is some sort of benign authority, that outcomes will be for the good; the delusion of the guilty is that they are powerful.

A few of us-a very few-realise that there is no normality in the 'British Way of Life' ,and try to live accordingly.
Enough of us are allowed to succeed that we don't all jump ship, or if we do, not until it is too late to be anyone anywhere else.
Enough of us are allowed to succeed that our example serves to convince the victims and the confused that they have a chance.
And some of us just serve as examples whether we are allowed to succeed or not.
In fact, especially if we don't, because Britain has always been the land of the Cautionary Tale, which is brute warning disguised as cowardice disguised as wisdom.
And the 'powers that be' look at the delusional guilty and wink; allowing the delusion to be fed and to thrive, until such time as their criminality becomes too obviously obscene and violent.
At which stage the powers that be chortle, wink inwardly with the amusement of being able to say"we only winked, we never told you so!", and so position themselves between the corralled victims and their attack-dogs, as our protectors.

Good game, eh?

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Spike's Been Spayed....

Poor old Spike is going to have his cigar digitally removed from all the Tom And Jerry cartoons.
Apparently you can kick an animal flat, but making them breathe smoke is cruel beyond all limits.
Actually the smoking is being airbrushed out of history because it is assumed to lead to children learning to smoke.
But not learning to hit cats with large hammers or blunt instruments, apparently.

Of course, I still remember growing up in the seventies, watching Tom and Jerry and learning to feel contempt for the Soviet Union, where historical photo-records were known to be altered to remove features unpalatable to the then ruling elite.

But as we all know, the Soviet Union was defeated.


Monday, August 21, 2006

There's A Lot Of It About.

Civilisation under seige.
HT to Sky Television News-sorry, no sophisticated screen-capture here, yet.

But the point is this; employees at Boeing did their jobs.
They discovered that a contractor had failed to use the intended machines and programmes to produce fuselage Straps for the 737 since 1995.
They were running two sets of books-a fraudulent compliance set, and the real ones.
The Straps (reinforcement plates for fuselage apertures like doorways) were actually drilled hammered and bent into (non-compliant) shapes by hand.

Obviously Boeing sounds like a company run by the Pinkies.
Because the employees were merely congratulated.
And told to hush it up. Under threat of legal action.
They have taken out a class-action against Boeing.
The courts threw out the first attempt; the judge this time has just celebrated his 99th birthday.

In the meantime, avoid travelling on Boeing 737s as much as possible.
The employees(auditors, for God's sake)suggest that as many as 1,600 aircraft are unsafe and should be grounded.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Israelis Discover Location Of BB House

One final effort, one teeny-weeny button-press.......
and the Israeli Prime Minister will win the Nobel Peace Prize.

Italian Job

Rainy day in Yorkshire; this brightened my morning though.
It is some sort of Maserati(not a QuattroPorte).
I tried to take a picture of the bonnet badge, but only got the one on the grille-the famous Maserati Trident symbol.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Limitless Age Limitation

In Britain, we are not allowed to commit acts of love until we are 16.
Then, we are forced to retire at 65.
This implies a useful life of 49 years; but wait!We aren't allowed to vote until we are 18, so it would appear that the governors of rule grudgingly tolerate our adulthood for no more than 47 years.
Before this period we are irrelevant children(who can still volunteer to kill people or die for them), and afterwards we are cheerfully useless old codgers on our ways to the graveyards, and will we please shut up and let the rulers get on with things.
The mean life-span of the Victorian man was 35 years(so we are told).But they were allowed to live life from age 5, and live until the end; that means that in 150 years, age has doubled but life-expectancy has only gone up by 17 years.
Dangerous stuff, life.
Mustn't let it get out of control. Trouble is, you aren't alive until you are actually out of control, so life expectancy is now a fraction of 47 years; say we spend 12 years asleep, then we are out of control;a further 18 months on holiday, that makes 13.5 years.
Then we have Friday nights.If the average person only gets arrested or ejected once every two months, but spends 8 hours per weekend free,(or attempting to remember what that is), then we have a further 1 day every three weeks of freedom, or 2.5 more years.Say 3 years for Saturdays.
That means that the average life expectancy in Britain is 19 years.
Only 7 of those are waking, conscious life, and in any case most of that is spent trying to bridge the disruption caused by neighbourliness.
The rest of the time is slavery, waiting to live, or waiting to die.

And people wonder why the rulers of government treat us with such contempt.

Monday, August 14, 2006

On the one hand...but on the other...

Ding! The Bell of Liberty rings out for excellent public schools; Dong! We celebrate our wonderful public hospitals....

It is the old battle of 'Right versus Left'.
The Left wants more money to be 'produced' for investment in 'public' services. They make no bones about this. We must all take the conscious decision to sell out and go to work for the Man, except that The Man is a little git in a corduroy jacket with elbow patches who likes to entertain the class on high days by singing songs of 'revolution' from 1968.
This old geyser is the last conscience-substitute before Pol Pot comes to the West, so treat his fantasies with indulgence or you may lose his protection.
Meanwhile, on the Right, we have a resurgence of embarrassment, an attempt to bury the near-successes of the past, that prehistoric age known as the Eighties.
Once more they try to achieve resurgent insurgence into the popular culture of the world, never quite understanding that when they talked of Freedom, people listened, but now they talk of 'responsibility', nobody thinks them qualified to give us just another guilt trip.
The 'Right' is moving closer to the 'centre', which means that they have abandonded such 'far right ideas' as Freedom(which might have caused the slug to fall back into the gutter) and replaced them with comforting notions such as 'nothing is really wrong, but we would like to take a turn'.
But at the moment, the Left has it.
And we are all diminished, especially in terms of the responsibility they urge us to take.
As if any responsible person would need their bidding.

Friday, August 11, 2006

The Obscenity Of Neighbourliness

There are commonly thought to be only two kinds of neighbour; the 'good' neighbour and the bad neighbour.
Very little actual effort has gone into defining these protoypes specifically; instead we are expected, over time, to acquire by osmosis some sort of sub-notional notion of what constitutes these types.
This is most unsatisfactory.
In my experience the only good neighbour is the neighbour that leaves me the hell alone, while the bad neighbours are legion and legend.
Bad neighbourliness begins and ends with inappropriate concern for other people.
At its mildest, the concern is over welfare and is what we are supposed to regard as 'good' neighbourliness.
At the other extreme, and this is a common extreme, we have the obsessive concern with our status, health, mentality, every waking experience and all of our adjacent life, by the sorts of bad neighbour or whom normality means violating and occupying the private spaces of other people close by.
This type has no concept of life, either in itself or in others, which can be tolerated as such;as a result they try their hardest to suppress and pervert any spontaneous feeling, especially of joy, that they can possibly detect in the environments which are occupied by others.

This dead-hand imperialism can be a crude as turning up the volume on noise that even they hate, or a subtle as scratching around in the hope that someone, somewhere will momentarily lose track of their thoughts and have to start again.
Because they hate other people's thoughts.
Almost as much as they hate other people; yet they would seek out neighbours, people onto whom they can fasten.

Why do I say 'Imperialism'?
Well, they want to exert control over others, using their system of noisesome scurrying.
They realise that they cannot do this straight away, so they keep it up as a chronic environment in our homes, hoping not to make us angry, but to reach the time where we accept and don't notice.
Then, by degree, they will introduce 'control' to the equation, by making their noise at night, or in the morning before we plan to awake,seeking to govern when we sleep and when we wake without our even being aware.

If they perceive that there is nothing we can do about it, so much the quicker.
By these means they hope to achieve the day when they can 'lord' it over us and leave us no functioning self at any time we are in our own homes.

Say what you like about the French;at least they have 'Crime Passionel' as a defence.

At Least We Knew Where We Were.

These artifacts all date from around 1973; the Porsche 911 may be even older.
The memorial is above the point underground where six of the seven dead men are believed to lie to this day.
Lofthouse Colliery is long gone, there isn't even a slag heap to see, but to get some idea of the scale of the industry, the memorial is miles from Lofthouse, in Kirkhamgate.
At the time, the news followed the desperate attempts at rescue, long after they must be dead, and everybody hoped.
They were brave men, doing a difficult and dangerous job, and they died.

Meanwhile, in Germany, the nuggets of coal were being gathered into bright metal for consumption and export.
The Porsche 911 survives today.
The mining industry has disappeared.
What might this mean?
Life and death struggles matter less in the world of commerce than pretty baubles.

What might this mean?
The wrong people have money, and the wrong values matter.

To bring back one of those men(six had families), I'd hope that every owner of every Porsche in the country would offer it for scrap. Because it is a toy, and toys like that are idle pleasures.

But if it was not voluntary, the sacrifice would be greater than just one man or seven.

And a world without such toys, is a world without any reason to pay men to go down for coal in the first place.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Who Is Number 1?

Better get rid of that license plate, or you may well find yourself numbered, filed, stamped, and you won't be able to say your life is your own.
Even if you think you are a Free Man.

Meanwhile on TV was the story of a Handley Page Hermes airliner that came down in the Western Sahara in the fifties.
There were only ten passengers and they all survived the crash-landing.
The first to reach them were local Bedou, who gave them water and food.
Then the French parachuted in a doctor; the Bedou(Muslims all), took them via camel train fifteen miles to the nearest oasis, at night in order to avoid the 50 Celsius daytime heat.
The co-pilot died of a head injury from the crash, and was buried in a Christian grave at the oasis.

So-called Muslims plot to murder innocent passengers, a great many of whom aren't even 'Western',using baby food disguises for their bombs.

Those fifties Bedou would spit in their faces as they cut their throats.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Tradition And the Can't Do Attitude.

A common site in Britain is the derelict factory, or the factory now being used to house 'small businesses', or else the noddy houses or community centres gracing what was once producer's land.

It is another commonplace to hear the recitals from the liturgy of failure, that battle-cry of the defeated.
They talk of 'traditional' industries that went bust in the 60s, 70s, even the 80s in the case of state-looted mausoliums.
They all talk of the loss of this work as inevitable, as a 'historical process', as something that was bound to happen as 'we' realign our activities into the illusory 'post-industrial' economy(whatever the hell that is).

The fact is that most of these businesses fought valiantly to stay;but they were the first to be betrayed.
As it is for the law-abiding public today, so it was for the elite of world business, gathered in this nation, then.
They perished in the slaughter of virtue that this represented, and we that are left are living in a debt-fuelled fantasy world of shoddy goods made elsewhere by people for whom hard work is not something to fear.
No matter how much our leaders try to gloss things over, without industry we are charity cases without even the graciousness to admit it.

And what of society?
A people that used to work, to produce, are now expert at playing both sides of any rotten system,buying their prime's worth of happy house living to die in poverty, zero-sum cynicism where even our worldly effects won't outlast us, seeking ways to trick money out of any situation, like a gut digesting itself in a freak case of uncontrollable gastric juices.
And the productive that remain are regarded as fair game, the human sacrifice to bring comfort when the world begins to peek into this disgusting lair, this septic isle.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Is There A Doctrine In The House?

Watching Blair speak to the Californian WACs(World Affairs Council), I was struck by the infernal persistence of this man's ability to present an arrangement of mirror images; the performance was, as usual, designed to implement his agenda of Eurocentric Socialism, pretending all the while to hold common cause with America; he actually hoped to destroy the American Truth by naming it as something else entirely, so hoping to imbue his American audience with a similar inability to mind their own business.

Meanwhile he describes American enslavement by the Climate Lobby as 'taking a lead', this poisonous flattery feeding the delusion of world approval representing in some way the essence of 'Americanism'(as opposed to freedom).

And in the meantime remember this:
"Democracy is the universal value of the human spirit."
"Democracy is the universal value of the human spirit."
Come again?
"Democracy is the universal value of the human spirit."
How about,
"Democracy is the great destroyer of conscience and integrity.It has nothing to do with the Human Spirit, the Human Spirit is exclusively the property of the individual and any individual that is reduced to expressing himself by putting a cross on a piece of paper is already three quarters dead and should be regarded as some sort of subnormal charity case."

Which is exactly what Tony wants.

Say What?

Something in the daily rag to cancel any crisis
Some people think that this country will explode.
It was to be heard so often that the 'powers that be' were almost relieved when the Beeston Four murdered 50 people in London last July; it gave us doubters something to unite against, a new demonology against which there would be a new social cohesion behind our masters.

But what is this?
Apparently the exlosion is here, and it isn't very easy to put into a box.
As Winston Churchill was heard (not) to say,in 1940,"Gosh, isn't there an awful lot vandalism in London this Autumn?"