Saturday, January 31, 2009

Could You Make This Up?

From the Daily Torygraph.

Here's The Real Deal.

The headlines shout, "British Jobs For British Workers".
This morning in the pub I bumped into one of the men who built the Killingholme Oil Refinery back in '67.
He told me what has happened.
The American operating company wanted to extend the refinery.
They brought in 300 Italian workers to do it.
They are accommodated offshore in a prison ship.
Now I may be crazy, but what the fuck do Italians know about building oil refineries?
That we don't?
Shameful day. No wonder there's a strike.

Friday, January 30, 2009

The New Dark Age

Made more protracted by the lights of perverted science.
Churchill was so often right, it's a cliche.
The methods used are quite scientific.
I calculated that the creep downstairs would return to his abuses after a couple of weeks being warned off by his boss at the renting agents.
At 8pm tonight, almost to the minute, it began again.
Playing bass, loudly. At approximate pulse rate, so it hits you at the base of the skull.

It is literally designed to unbalance.

Fortunately I can obliterate it with my very comprehensive 5.1 system. But I don't wish to. My music is for enjoyment, not violence, not communication.

I think I might contact the local paper about the possible scheme to defraud my landlord of his property by making it unrentable.

At Least He's Honest.

Obama, describing what is happening in the nation's economy as "the American dream in reverse,"

Caught Up In Other People's Madness.

Apparently you can't be an engineer unless you've done nothing else.
Certain 'agents' look at CVs and say "Oh! He spent time doing other things."
This brews in the less savoury reaches of their souls for a couple of days, until they finally feel compelled to convey a message of hate, usually by telephone, saying I'm no good and never have been.
Other slanderous terms such as 'oddball', 'unusual' or 'different' are smuggled into the conversations, as these unfortunates remain barely civil in their hope that I will never get (another) job.
Can't wait to leave this bloody country.

Thursday, January 29, 2009


The man lay awake in the pre-dawn; he was sweating at the thought of another day in the city. How far would he get before the attacks started again, the cowardly hatred of the people to whom he didn't belong?
How many more examples would he have to make?
Would there ever come a time of peace, when he was rightfully left alone?
He sat on the edge of the bed. There was silence. He surrendered to it, feeling the quiet flowing even through his bones.
He lay back.
He fell asleep again.

Much later, when the Sun rose, Nero tried to face another day surrounded by the Roman Mob.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Winter Warmth

So, my mate and I go into the jewellers in Banbury Cross.
He's buying a pendant for his mum, her fiftieth wedding.
The assistant comes over; she's about five-two. She should be 'fat', trouble is all her shapes are round and sexy, lovely bust, and the skirt really shows off her butt. We point out a necklace in the case, so she comes round to look.
Her thighs stretch the skirt, they are shapely.
She has a beautiful smile and brown eyes with black hair.
She smiles often.
Back behind the counter, she lays out the necklace on black velvet.
Then she undose the top button of her blouse, says 'Let me show you', and holds the necklace up to her cleavage.
Needless to say, she makes two sales.

The necklace to my mate, and her to me.

What a fabulous woman.

And she actually thanked us.

I Stand Corrected.

So we go up to Oxford for the shopping; and the scenery is great!
I have never seen so many beautiful girls and women, beautiful, friendly, accessible, flirting, sexy - and ravenously, smilingly, intelligent. I tell you, I nearly had a mutiny.
If you ever come to England, Oxford on a Saturday is the best of it.
I could almost have second thoughts about the place if more was like Oxford.

I've got to say it, I like Oxford.

Friday, January 23, 2009

But Today?

So I'm in a pub in the midlands. I get it walking across the car park from a guy in the beer garden.
I get it from a couple of slag-boys having a smoke outside the entrance. For two minutes while I'm buying a pint of Ringwood Winter Stout, nothing.
Sit down.
Get it from three slags behind and two in front.

England is full of shit.
It walks, it talks, it buys cheap lager, and it's shit.
Shit, worse than a battallion of invading Doberman's fed on Bran Flakes.
And there's only one thing worse - the shit that stops us from escaping.

Because, whenever we start to reach the point where we can still be ourselves, still be antagonistic to the robots of rule, and still escape too, we get shot down in flames and find ourselves back at square one, a few years older.

And then some shit weaqring a grin thinks we've had enough, and let's the Dance Macabre start all over.

It's Coming. One Day.

Not Only But Also

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Now Now, Calm Down.

The heat is off and things are settling down.

The siege has begun, and I should be able to outlast the present temporay difficulties.

Above is a still shot from my new security system.

It should be going on sale in a couple of months.
The blue square is from face detection. It works very well in low light.
I'll be looking for Beta testers shortly, as soon as a license utility is activated.

Today's Message

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Big Mess

Up Yours!

No mate. I don't care who voted for you. You're not my nanny. Fuck off.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Friday, January 16, 2009

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Commemoration Of Greatness

Following the terrible news of the death of Patrick McGoohan, channel ITV4 is showing 'The Prisoner' from 1900 GMT.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

It's Official

All, and I do mean all, of the listed sound generating synthesisers available for Linux, DO NOT WORK.

They appear to have been created and foisted on the users by a bunch of lazy, delusional children, like Bluebottle from the Goons.

"Hey. mister, do you want some free software? It's free..."

"What does it do?"

"Nothing......but it's free!"

Oh, Well. Exeter is alive.

God Damnit, Will Nothing Go Right In 2009?

Number 6 has died.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Friday, January 09, 2009

Time For A Change

This article in the Globe & Mail covered the Somali piracy situation.
So, safe passage costs 3%?
And taxes for our 'Navy' (IPod-listening surrender-monkeys) costs what? 20%?
Withold the damned thieves' tax, pay the Somalis a 3% stipend, and the problem will go away.
Also, the 'Government' pretence will be ended.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

High Up In My Castle

This is the new control room. World domination guaranteed.

Excellent Work

The Globe & Mail has done a fine job today with this critique of alleged Islam.

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

But They Said!

So, there's going to be a recession.

What makes this particular recession most sickening is the unedifying sight of all those fourth-and-a-half estaters going into a sweating terror-funk at the thought; the thought that the same people who sold them the dream of an end to boom and bust, might have been lying.

The unthinkable thought. The chancellor who engaged in capitalism that was unfetterred, simply because he didn't do any of his controlling in public, except when he administered mob-pleasing punishments.

They are terrified because they don't dare admit that they, too, have beeen lying to us dutifully for ten years, lying to preserve the illusion of erectness in the edifice of fake prosperity that has dulled our judgement for so long.
And is being blown away like Autumn leaves in a Winter wind.

And the facts are as cold as any Winter.

They are terrified, terrified because when all the bullshit economics has been flushed away, they will be left with the unavoidable truth.

This is the truth.

Not only is freedom the only thing which is right.

It is the only thing that works.

But They Said!

So we're going to have another recession.

After the years of fat thinking, fat to the point of schlerosis, a lot of companies are going to disappear and we will be facing a new landscape.

The fact is beginning to sink in. This is not something entirely new. There have been big ballls ups before, as recently as '92 when I spent two years out of work.

What everybody is beginning to realise is that business as usual is precisely what we are experiencing.

An awful lot of bullshit economics is going to get flushed down the toilet; what makes the panic particularly unedifying to watch is that all those fourth-and-a-half estate drones who bought into the 'end to boom and bust' mantra really expected it to be true.

These alleged people feel personally the betrayal inherent in the lies which kept the edifice tottering on the verge of erectness for so long, proving to be just so many Autumn leaves in the cold Winter wind of the facts.

This was foreseen at the start of the 'experiment' when responsibility was diverted by pretending to allow the unfettered capitalism of a Chancellor who just happened not to do any controlling in the open.

A stinking decade of lying corruption has had its lid blown off, and now the rats are running around trying to abandon the ship of state - but there is no land left, and all they can do is pass ropes around icebergs to try and stay afloat.

What good this will do in the global warming of a monetary meltdown is probably none.

But there the analogy ends. The State may be a ship, but the economy is made of trade, which is a flotilla.

They will try to bind our providers together, to try to keep their lumps of scrap iron above the waves, but there are finally some signs that voices of reason are speaking firmly above the shrieking, offering the realisation that everyone for themselves reallly is the only way to allow everyone to survive.

The Swansong Of Prosperity.

I may be out of work next month.
Meantime, a little effort and elbow grease has secured me a loft that now contains my marvellous computer with 5.1 sound, all the privacy I could ask for at this stage and safety from annoying the neighbours with my hours upon hours of honeyed sound.

I'm ready for a seige.

And £15 secured me a cordless phone; I've already paid for it by going three days without beer. I moved all the furniture without breaking a sweat, my heartburn has disappeared and I feel more alert. I wake better too.

The phone allows me to move all over the house without worrying, so I can talk, make a cup of tea, go up to the music room and still talk.

It has a built-in answering machine too, so it will pay for itself over again once I cancel the answering service I've been using.

Small reasons for some satisfaction.

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Bags Me For Parole Officer.

Congratulations to Mike on quitting his citizenship. The trick might then be to emigrate to the US and become a citizen. Then quit again.
Sorry to hear about Janine.
She looks great for a forty year old. I would be delighted to offer her aid and succour should she decide to go on the run.
Maybe she could lend me a few thousand dollars to get to Canada permanently. That would be all it took, and I have to say that while, on paper, Canadian slavery is at least the equal of British, the society of Ice Road Truckers, Oil Shale Men and Diamond Miners is preferable to cold blooded cowards.

Friday, January 02, 2009

Exeter Lives