Maggie Come Home

There's nothing to forgive.
Courtesy of commenter Wiggysan, the bald man of Japan, and his Daily Mail

Come In Mister Brown...We've Been Expecting You

After co-manufacturing the greatest collapse since 1929 - twice - Gordon "The Moron" Brown has started berating his victims for putting 'Profit before responsibility'.

Actually, it is the responsibility of every living being to make a profit in one form or another.
But not Gordon.
So what is he then?
A dying being?
Are we all being asphixiated by the creeping death which is the British establishment under Gordon "The Moron" Brown?
Looks that way, doesn't it?

But the cunt won't sleep sound of fear until he's convinced us we're the ones responsible.

On The Record

Ten years on, and the longest pyramid scheme in history has finally reached it's inevitable end, the swindling of billions based on bad credit.
The end of boom and bust in the name of prudence has proven to be two spectacular busts based on recklessness and irresponsibility.

As we have become further divorced from consequences, we have gained a Ministry of Justice, like a 1960's South American military Republic, with our own version of appointed succession in the junta, from Blair to Brown.
While we have a ministry of justice, the police have grown ever more enfeebled, backed up by a militantly useless 'plastic policemen' organisation which wanders about in blue-rimmed caps looking almost like policemen but being utterly useless. They might as well wear billboards with 'Policemen' written on them, these £18,000 a year scarecrows.

And in the Welfare State, we are told that unemployment has risen twice as fast as benefit claims.

Please, please, please, throw these useless government criminals out.
Don't vote for parties.
Vote for individuals. Clean the toilet.

The New Fred's In.

Fred on Everything

Ugly Betty

Was just beautiful. I no longer have doubts that the original writers are back in the room.

Har har har!

Courtesy of Djomama

Anus Channel Four.

Channel Four news is the news that amplifies its own self-opinionated bluster to the point where it believes it is serious and possesses gravitas.
This truly awful collection of fraudsters is in its own mind an instrument of a state which doesn't exist, thank god, except in the flaccid imaginations of those who perpetrate it on a defenceless public.

Observe as Zenab Badawi (or whatever her name is) goes on the offensive against people who are merely expressing their rightful opinions, her slanderous imputations that they are lying just this side of criminal law.
Observe as sympathetic co-establishmentarians are brought in to simper in mawkish victimhood for any cause of the minute that the crooked news team wishes to ram down our throats.

Everything is just so, from their grovelling facial expressions to their slightly edgy stubble to their trendy oblong spectacles.

This isn't a news service. These are orchestrated theatricals on behalf of a one party state that hasn't quite arrived yet.

Sadly, It Is Too Late On A Weekday

A very underrated film.
Silverado.
I can't stay up to watch as I have work tomorrow.

Official-America Founded By Asshole

The incident started on King Street in the early evening of March 5, in front of Private Hugh White, a British sentry, as he stood duty outside the Custom house. A young wigmaker's apprentice named Edward Gerrish^[2] called out to a British officer, Captain Lieutenant John Goldfinch, that Goldfinch had not paid the bill of Gerrish's master. Goldfinch had in fact settled his account and ignored the insult. Gerrish departed, but returned a couple of hours later with companions. He continued his complaints, and the civilians began throwing snowballs at Goldfinch. Gerrish also exchanged insults with Private White, who left his post, challenged the boy, and then struck him on the side of the head with a musket. As Gerrish cried in pain, one of his companions, Bartholomew Broaders, began to argue with White. This attracted a larger crowd.<sup>[3]

From the splendid annals of Wikipedia</sup>

You Don't Kow How Lucky You Are!

Back in the USSSA!

You Don't Kow How Lucky You Are!

Back in the USSSA!

Do You?

Do you ever discover a film on TV, or in the privacy of your own home, which you know to be excellent?
And you can't watch more than ten minutes?
Because they've trained you like one of Pavlov's Soviet Dogs, and your concentration cannot bear to last more than ten minutes?
When was the last time you went into a public cinema? How long did you go before being 'mugged'?
Was it some life form trying to assert it's imperial will by mimicking your laughter to destroy spontaneity?
Or some creature throwing something hissing and heavy past your ears in the dark?
Or just something grunting or coughing every time you move?
These are the means they use to enslave you, to make sure you pay attention to them and not to the film you paid for.
The cuntery of England is filled to pustulent bursting with such filth.

These days, I generally can't sit through a movie - unless it's in Canada.

England...

Is a cuntery in Europe.
It is the duty of all remaining human beings (such as occur due to the gene pool) to escape.

Class.

They wonder why they can't sell music these days.

Good News Everybody!

The new FRED is in.

Spot The Deliberate Mistake?

"Divorce Genes discovered"
So if all these people are procreating with multiple partners, why hasn't divorce predominated?
Oh, wait, it has!
This is just another load of allegedly 'scientific' shit which is being used to promote the 'evil humanity' fiction for the benefit of the people who see nothing to be done, and the benefit of the people who want to bash us all on the heads and make us behave.

What a load of bollocks.
The rise in divorce is due to emancipation from bad decisions, as well as the difficulty in finding anybody remotely human these days.

Hell in a hand basket?
Certainly.
Genetic?
Don't be pathetic.

Good News Everybody!

Firstly, my new computer is working. I plugged in my old hard drive, and it booted up straight away. All I had to do was put a sound card in, and I had a spare lying around.

Secondly?
Friday 5th September - UGLY BETTY is returning!
Whoo-hoo!

Dull-Che et Decor.

The byline in the Yorkshire Post talks of youngsters 'queuing up to serve queen and country'.
So.
After about a decade of conditioning in schools ( which were made compulsory in preparation for the Great War), and having had the last remnants of individuality stifled by their compression under the heel of family 'life', these kids honestly think that joining the army will represent freedom?
There, they will be taught one thing and one thing only; to kill on command like attack dogs.
Sure, they will be looked after, while they are in, and given support systems.
But the lonely day will come when they have to pull the trigger.
Some will enjoy it. They are headed for great things.
Most will suddenly find that they are getting ready to return to civilian life, if they they can face their demons all alone without the company.

At this point they realise what courage is.

No Proof At All.

No. There's no proof that they murdered Diana Spencer. She was the mother of the future king of Englitz, and she was likely to give him johnny foreigner half-siblings and have a whole other life apart from the Royal Family, but there is absolutely no proof that they murdered her.

The inquiry said so. After the first two judges up and quit.

Also:-
Hitler had kind eyes.
The Krays loved their mum.
Stalin modernised Russia.

And the establishment of Britain is a pile within a pile wrapped in an enigma.

TFFT-It's Finally Over.

Apparently there was some sort of sporting event in a Chinese town called Peking.
At least it didn't last 55 days.
Meanwhile, the BBC has tried to smear the event into a faded skidmark on the underside of London by holding a '2012 Party' on television, whatever the hell that is.
Presumably in a few days the idiot-turkey-journos will stop gobbling and we can forget the whole miserable fiasco.
Until the next time.
Ken Livingston must be enjoying his rest immensely, which is the truly tragic part of the London Olympics.

Victory! Buwahahaha!

While the world watched the closing ceremony of the Limp-icks, I mounted a raid on e-bay, and won an auction.
I bought a 2.26 GHz P4 Optiplex for £16.50.
All I have to do when I get it is install my old hard drive and DVD writer (already Optiplex-compatible) and I'll have a lightning-fast Linux system.
Then put the old Windows Hard drive in the old Optiplex and get a useful increase in performance while being able to standardise on one model of computer.
Sorted!

Bloody Liars.

The WWF (World Wrestling Federation? World Wildlife Fund?), is trying to make out that Britain only provides 38% of it's water needs. Apparently the rest is 'imported' from Spain and Morocco, water shortage countries.
We are guilty! We are all guilty! What nasty people we are!
Except, according to these bloody liars, that would mean importing 620 gallons per household per day, which would need an infrastructure 1000 times larger than oil.
What utter, fucking rubbish.

Darwin Award

I suggest a Darwin Award for the the young fool who went paragliding in Hurricane Fay in Florida.
(With thanks to CNN). Apparently he was blasted into the side of a concrete building at high speed.
Ya gorra laff innit?

Not Impressed.

On TV?
An interview with the 'General' in charge of the Russian occupation.
I find it hard to believe that this fat, unkempt slob in a stripy tee-shirt was anything more than a stooge.
He didn't just look unemployable by a professional army.
He looked unemployable by a school sanitation department.
He looked like a stupid thug with tanks.
The Georgians must have been sleeping.
There must have been a surprise attack somewhere.
Even the tanks holding the passes were ancient.
Either the Russians used elite forces and replaced them with this comedy, or we could kick the Russians out in ten minutes if only we put our men into action.
This is a shambles.

The Beast Is Insatiable-Why Even Try?

So.
You've reached the stage where the evil is so sick, so obvious, that you decide to give it a good beating.
You do it again and again, until one day, tired and beaten, you find yourself out, down and bleeding.
You can take the pain.
You've given it too.
But what the bastard-beast does next is a real eye-opener.
Because you resisted, because you were not 'one of us', because you've reached the post-Thunderdome trance of inner Peace, it keeps on coming-but never getting there.
It keeps on trying to mount you on a string, not a pike, but it is still your head it is after.

It brays and brays about your fate, and how all-powerful it really is, but the fact is that the beast is terror, terror of you, terror of knowing what it is, terror of being seen.
And you've seen it.

It tries to turn itself inside-out, and fill you with terror while absorbing your mind.

This is where pacifism is born.

But never forget you knew how to fight.

On the Other, Other Hand...

The ceremony has also been strongly criticised by architect Ai Weiwei, who helped design the Bird's Nest stadium.

Writing on his blog, Mr Ai described the ceremony as "a recycling of the rubbish of fake classical culture tradition; a sacrilegious visual garbage dump and an insult to the spirit of liberty; low class sound play that's just noise pollution".

He was directly critical of China's ruling communist party, characterising the ceremony as "a showcase of the reincarnation of the Marxist imperialism; the ultimate paragon of an all embracing culture of fascist totalitarianism; an encyclopaedia that encompasses total defeat in intellectual spirit."

Mr Ai helped design the stadium alongside Swiss architect firm, Herzog and de Meuron.

But since then, he has become an outspoken blogger against the Olympics and the Chinese regime. Unusually, he has not been censored by the authorities.

Weiwei lived in the States for about ten years.

If he is faking it, he is doing a fine job.

On The Other Hand...

I went out this pm, and I was left the hell alone.
Pleasant?
I did some serious thinking.
I went to the first bar and had a chat about the fact that the Bass they were serving me was famous for many reasons, not least of which is that the Bass Red Triangle is the oldest trade mark in the world.
Then I moved down to the next bar and had a Smiths Bitter, which was adequate.
I sat out in the warm(ish) twilight and sipped my beer. I wasn't bothered much.
Then I went to the third and final bar where I had two halves of bitter, one after the other.
It was cold and tasty.
The music was good, and nobody paid me the slightest attention, which was better.
Worked out a few problems in my head.
Problems I have to face tomorrow. At work.
Weekends.
Bloody marvellous.
Good to have them back.

Not So Pleased Now.

So I went out.
The first place had old men singing Karaoke to ancient songs I'd never heard before.
I went next door.
Sitting outside were some junkies smoking Ganja, swearing and carrying on and on about how 'Ganja isn't a drug'.
The scrapings of the country.
I went back inside to finish my beer, where the psychopaths were merely drunk.

Proceeding back up the road, I saw a bar full of women.
Obviously I went in.
Obviously they were all on the point of leaving anyway, which they did.
So I sat in the empty bar drinking beer from a plastic glass- they obviously have a lot of trouble there.
So then I walked home.
Had a nice cup of tea.
Yes. I'm really living it up.

Feeling Pleased - With Myself

Tonight I'm going out. It's pissing it down, but a short walk gets me to a waterside bar with good music and an interesting crowd.
Earlier, I ran up the Ruby version of KDevelop on my box, and cleared all three sample programmes to running status.
That's Ruby, Ruby QT and Ruby On Rails.
Quite a task, and it needed a lot of extras installed.
Then I sat down and watched a little TV.
And it struck me.
There was a British 'adventure' film on.
The British think that personality is some kind of disease, something to be stamped out.
So these days, when they make a film, a group of dumb-ass no-hopers get together and agree to use all the safest cliches and all the most obviously tired actors, sleep-walking around the usual sets filled with the usual hive of faked activity.
The film was a bore at first sight, lasting, for me, about ten seconds.
The trouble is, there are no personalities allowed in this country, so nobody is capable of being the champion of a vision, because there are no visions, and if there were, they would be laughed at.

There used to be, but the days of Lew Grade and Patrick McGoohan are long gone, one dead, the other(as is usually the case) moved to the USA.

And you can't blame it on business.
It is precisely the lack of personalities that has lost the ability to inspire the business.
In the seventies the last gasp was shows like the Professionals.
Then they went for high production value classics, like Sherlock Holmes.
Since the mid eighties?
Nothing.
About as much imagination as a pea.

No.
No more drama in Britain.

Thanks heaven we still have comedy though.
I think Armstrong & Miller is absolutely brilliant!

Aren't Mothers Wonderful?

Wonderfully stupid, that is.
I remember mine in 1968 when the Home Service announced that the Soviets had invaded Poland:
"Oh my God!"
Like that was some sort of surprise?
Like it wasn't true to form?
That nice Mr. Gromeko!
And today?
"Oh, son, I'm watching the Olympics. It's wonderful! They haven't mentioned the Cultural Revolution at all in their instant 5000 years of Chinese history. And the things they invented! Like the Printing Press!"

Don't worry folks; next week a 'committee' of 'eminent Chinese archeologists' will come together and announce that China invented the Gas Turbine in 1785, along with the first all-steel ships.

Of course, despite having invented the printing press, there is no documentary evidence.

I mean, fuck off!
What the fuck do you take us for, you inbred, miserable, lying examples of mental illness?
The Chinese also invented gunpowder, but had to develop martial arts, 'cos nobody was able to have a gun.
And then they .....
Oh sod it.
They are pathetic.

It's Berlin Again. But Who Are The Nazis?

"We expect over forty medals".
Thus spake the fascist sports minister - of Britain.
Go on, athletes of Britain.
Go on.
Get on the first plane home and tell the scum to fuck off.
That would be leadership.
That would be glory.
Then you would all be champions.

But that won't happen, and for the same reason that you won't get any medals.

Well, Have You Ever?

Ever noticed something?
You tell some guy who's really been cooking your cool, asking for it- you literally tell him, "Fuck off you miserable piece of shit, and fuck your mother."-you tell him this, and does he get mad, like some kind of a man?
No. And here's the weird bit.
They look at you, disappointed, and say something like, 'you would'.
As if you are in the wrong for using their tactics against them.
As if you are in the wrong.
Such creatures exist. I punched one out, years ago. They are the storm-troopers of the faggot-world-order, a sort of sick brethren that congregates and decides who and how they're going to bring down today.
The more you hold out, the more terrified they become. And the more blindly determined.
Truly, The Prisoner was a parable of the modern age.
I'd love to put a name to this filth and expose it.
If anybody else knows, drop me a line.
By the way, the one I clouted was a Canadian.

What Really Happened.

The guy was 40 years old.
He was one of those blokes that always seems to get the shit-end of the stick, from employers, co-workers, you name it.
A bit of a loner, and people can sense it.
'People' didn't like him, because he kept himself to himself, was self-reliant, independent.
They could sense it.
He was getting older, and a little fearful of what people had been trying to do all his life; so he carried a knife.

One day he got on a Greyhound and sat down, at an empty seat, where he could stretch out for the long trip in comfort.

Behind him was one of the 'people', a 22 year old who knew everything and everybody like he'd read a map.
He took an instant dislike to the older man, for no reason other than his senses screaming through his rotten head that this man was a 'victim', his natural prey who couldn't do anything in self-defence.
At least nothing against this.
For sixty miles the younger man coughed, sneezed, sniffed and grunted at any sign of motion from the 40 year old; also at any sign of stillness, in case of a private thought or pleasure that he could stomp on.
And it was all done in secret, so that the ordinary Canadians on the bus either wouldn't or couldn't notice.
But today, the victim had had enough.
Today the rules changed, and the victim exterminated his oppressor, who died with a blood-curdling scream.
Today, they both lost their heads.
One literally and both quite properly.

Mystery Solved.

The package?
Lightbulbs. From the electric company.
I could cry.

When Will I Ever Learn?

So here we are, halfway house, and it's time for the Summer Party.
I go to the barby, and fill up on chicken and Hamburgers; the beer is plentiful, reasonable, and there are three kinds (!) of Tetleys, so I'm happy.
Good talk with the senior member.
Half an hour talking frankly with the boss.
Then it happens; I think Big Al is a safe bet, and he is, but the poor bastard finally got hitched, and she's showing her true self.
She's a piece of work.
I say I've got a mystery package at the sorting office.
Could be the big score, the photo of my ex from Arizona, the establishment of dipperlomatic relations after all this time - and the bitch says "Blow up doll" as she walks away.
Totally hammer between the eyes, but she's Al's missus, at the company do.
Another pint then home.
Won't be fooled again.

Well Who Would Have Thought It?

After Hitler showed the way with sterilisation and mass murder, and the Americans and Swedes with sterilisation of the mentally ill, Britain had it own ways and means of dealing with the chronically 'dangerous'.
Of course, the Labour Party hated the Thatcherists for closing and destroying all the asylums, the less to threaten incorrigibles with.
Maggie is my favourite aunty.
I particularly get the bit about the people being locked up sane and going mad later. I was locked up twice and escaped three times.
Eventually I threatened them with court action if they didn't fuck off. They let me go.
But then, I'm an 'unmutual' .

The Govmunt.

The game goes on.
As more and more people become less and less interested in what is jokingly referred to as 'democracy', sorry, 'our' democracy, the govmunt comes up with ever more absurd ways of engaging our interest, like a fat, ugly fan-dancer ignoring the jeers and cat-calls and filibustering with grimly cold determination, seeming never to shed any clothing or move any fan that isn't immediately replaced without showing us anything interesting.
The game goes on.
The govmunt steals and bribes; it steals our money then tells us it's ours. Then they pay some of it back out as bribes, and tells us it's theirs.
Wha? Are we really stupid enough to stand for this crap?
But, the game goes on, and the balls are kept in play by the armies of hangers on and fellow travellers who wish to promote their particular comfy lives at the expense of *nobody* ie the few producers struggling on, with the wisdom of centuries at their disposal from the screeching public schoolboys to the inverted snobs from comprehensives, all seeking to get that final revenge on the 'unmutuals', the few kids they saw who didn't care for them or their petty enthusiasms, the true people who denied them the sympathy they whined for, the sympathy for their mistaken creeds, that lifeblood of the weak, somebody to talk to who listens without conversing.

So these people struggle into positions of responsibility or public profile, playing the game so that they can really feel conformal, and then screeching to a captive audience that finally has to listen.
And television dies. And radio dies. And newspapers die. And the music industry dies.
Because these bastards have nothing to say worth listening to.
Next?
Next, the game moves to the internet.
The monkeys are going to get their filthy paws on that by way of licensing it.

Result!

After the music companies ignored a world crying out for the Biggles movie soundtrack, which has been unobtainable for 22 years, I found a BitTorrent enabler called 'Mininova'.
When there's something you need....when you are all alone....when you're desperate.....look for mininova.
It won't be hard to find.
Oh yes.
I now have Biggles.

If You Do One Thing Today.......

Read this; the History of Solidarnosc.

Hmm.

I've got my doubts about the New York News now, too.
I couldn't open an account with them.
And they were displaying some crappy TV License Fee advert.
Targeted?
International persecution more like.

They Deprive Us Of Teach!

Who still wants to pretend education is not political?

Beefed Up

Under 'Canadian Bacon' you will see that I have beefed up my Canadian coverage with the Globe & Mail, another chance for a serious mainstream paper to prove its worth.
However, I'm keeping the Toronto Sun; whatever would we do without Sunshine Girls to laff at?

Normal Service Is Resumed.

Under 'Pond Life' (as in 'The Other Side Of The'), you will find the New York Daily News. Welcome aboard!

I Deprive You Of Speech.

The comrades at New York Times have censored me. I was using my real name at the time, so I guess they know me, although they would never admit it short of being strapped to a chair and beaten around the head with a broken bottle.
Anyway, I've shown them the door, and like the London Times and the Telegraph, they have been ejected from my site.
It's the Vast Left Wing Conspiracy all over again.

Dem Bones Dem Bones...

Just watched the Prisoner, the final episode.
Gawd!
Inspired!
A final, murderous gun battle, set to 'All You Need Is Love' by the Beatles!
Get hep, man.

Resistance Is Not Futile!

Read this about the Poles who won through after fifty years.

Some More Pictures From Flower City.

This is a picture of a picture; Steve Kubby, a contender for the presidential candidacy on behalf of the Libertarian Party.
They chose a 'safe pair of hands', ie they sold out.
Alaskan Beer. Absolutely gorgeous.

The windows on the left are the front wall of Lolli's Castagnola Restaurant. The view is free, the food is excellent, and it doesn't cost the earth to eat there. The Alaskan beer was in the bar, along wiht ten or twelve others.

You can't quite make this sign out, but it said 'S&M Shellfish, dominating Bay area seafood since 1968'.

Leaving Fisherman's Wharf behind.

Under the Golden Gate Bridge on the South side.Coming back under from the Pacific.

On The Other Hand...

Yesterday, when the BBC cancelled 'Monk' in favour of golf (groop!), the damned ITV channel had the inspired foresight to show a superb comedy.
"Mystery Men".
Either you saw it or you didn't, but it was something else.

From Bloomberg Television.

"The best things in life aren't things."
-Art Buchwald.

Funny That.

Looking up Billy Joel on wikipedia, I noted the description of his 1989 tour dates in Moscow, and thought no more of it until I saw a children's programme on ITV1.
The girl was being pushy and putting herself forward for the 'grande finale' singing spot of the show.
She spoke with a fake American accent.
She was watched by the 'cool' kids, one of whom(of course) was black with dreadlocked hair. The others just stood in sunglasses and hats, watching her efforts with disparaging head-shakes.
This was clearly some Soviet idea of 'cool', where it is the duty of the 'cool' to sneer and put down other people, especially if they are American, especially if they are making a sincere effort.

The Cold War is over, the Russians won. They got more freedom, we got the Soviet apparatus infesting every child's future.
In another generation everything we designed so much hardware for, spent so much money and effort on, and defended so hard for, will be lost.
Due to the sneaking bastards of the internal fifth column, the fifth column grown in state nurseries during the 70s and 80s, like incubated disease ready to be released on our world.

It's happened. They're here. And in control.

No Fear - Thermonuclear protection

"Never any doubt that the government would support Fanny and Freddy" - Berry.
Is that doubt, or hope?
What do they try and pretend? The gumment is riding to the rescue.
What is the reality?
The gumment is holding America up at gunpoint and forcing it to give its money to a bunch of imbeciles, their families, and their hangers-on.
But this is only a crime to pay for the fraud the imbeciles have already committed.

Apparently this will save the 'economy'.

The Empire Strikes Back.

Good old Belly-laugh!

Wanton Senselessness?Here's The Proof!

Leeds given £2.3 million to study road charging. Only I was there 18 months ago; 18 months ago, Leeds ripped out the infrastructure that had been used to experiment with road charging for ten years previously, literally by the root.
They tore out every stanchion, removed every camera, from all the Southern approaches to the city.
That should have been the end of it, but now? Full reverse! Put it all back! Joined up government!

Visit Friendly Britain, Land of Human Sacrifice.

So here's the situation.
For many years, if the psychotic terrorists tried to conquer their neighbours Noriega-fashion, using noise (not Rock music - that can be listened to all day) then eventually the police could confiscate their weapons.

However, just a couple of months ago, the police were stripped of the power to close down noise.
So when some piece of shit turns up its oversized industrial 'boom' speakers and makes your one and only home into the trunk-space of a 'tuned' car, rendering it uninhabitable, there is absolutely nothing you or anyone can do, except try to work it out.

Obviously, this is what some of them are hoping for, so they blitz you for five hours every night after work, knowing that short of punching their lights out (and risking arrest for assault, and a criminal record) there is very little left to do.

Fortunately there is an option in rented property. If you can get the signatures of three neighbours and make a complaint to the landlord, they are obliged to threaten them with eviction.
This is one of those surviving idiosynchrasies of British law.
Don't count on it existing too much longer.
Due to no actual cogent purpose that I can detect, to achieve nothing whatever by way of power or political dominance, we are being progressively disarmed and placed at the mercy of these bastards.

My only imagined reason is that the people who make policy are like Tracy Emin and her 'art'.
It is the same strand of wanton senselessness, and in the service of the same idleness masquerading as purpose.
And these swine are PROSPERING today as never before.
Thanks Tony!

Join Me In A Toast...

Fred's On Form again

Not for the squeamish

What's This?

Hard work never killed anybody.....?

Happy Thoughts

Just changed my desktop background - to the original Catwoman, Julie Newmar.
It's a picture of the old girl as she appeared in the original TV series, in her famous Cat suit.
Ouch.

Don't Forget The Real Heroes.

This picture courtesy of Photobucket.com

Millions of people are being threatened with violence because they want to live.
Dozens are being murdered.
I saw one called, simply, 'Gambo', on TV tonight. He didn't look like a fool.
But they got him anyway. He was murdered by Mugarbage thugs.
He was one of me.
I could have bought the man a beer in happier times.
Dead, because of that evil regime in Zimbabwe.
And dead, because he had the touch of a man like me about him.
It's no accident. This is what the bastards really want.

It's also the reason the Western governments are dragging their feet.

Oh, And by the way...

I was in San Francisco recently!

Simplesons

I no longer watch the (cancelled) Futurama due to slanderous remarks about the late Ayn Rand.
The same is true of South Park, no matter how many times they try to deny that they said what they said.
It smacks of cowardice, and most attacks of this type are cowardly anyway.

I can't watch the Simpson's either, since the episode screened today where they visit Toronto; they are shown visiting a building titled 'Dodgers Of Foreign Wars'.
Since the producers of the Simpsons are unlikely to be supporters of Bush, they must simply be stirring up muck against Canadians with the trailer-park demographic over the fact that Canada didn't go to Iraq.
But they are still fighting and dying in Afghanistan, and while we're on the subject of 'dodgers', the Canadians were fighting the Germans in 1939, while the US was still doubling its gold reserves from British arms contracts and sitting at home without fighting anybody.
They only fought the Japanese when attacked, and the Germans declared war on the USA, not vice versa.

So it looks like American media slags are re-writing history again.

Pull The Other One, Mate.

It's got fucking bells on!
In a perfect example of a communist technique documented by Ayn Rand in her analysis of the Berkeley University rebellion of the sixties, a Yorkshire MP has attempted to compare the Muslims of Britain to the Pre-War Jews of Europe; never mind that yesterday some mental case of a judge, sorry, High Court Judge, said that Britain should accept Sharia Law.
Did I say 'never mind'?
Actually this is no coincidence.
This is how they work. They see a perceived weakness, as the judge represents, and they attack.
Always using lies.

Lest We Forget.

Just wondering.... with house prices falling at their fastest for 16 years, why isn't ZaNuLabour repeating it's oldest and fondest chestnut?
You know, the 'end to boom-and-bust' one?
Or are they hoping we forgot about that popular little ditty?

Greetings To The Cursed Soldiers Everywhere.

When the Soviets rolled into Poland in 1945, the real Polish Government in London told the Home Army to disband, in order to avoid civil war.
Some soldiers refused.
The last one was killed in 1963 by an ambush.
They were known as the Cursed Soldiers.

Shame Of The World.

How can we abandon them?
When you see the injuries that these victims of ZANU have sustained, then see the old injuries, you realise that these men and women are persisting in the face of true horror, because they are people of conscience, heroes in fact.

It is the shame of the world that these people are being abandoned.
It is Tiannenman again.

New York Times on Home Turf - MadMen

Ever see that series MadMen on the BBC? As so often is the case, the BBC is the first to get it, but then they don't 'get it', and for a few weeks now the scheduling has been irregular or non-existent.

Meanwhile, as this 10 page article in the New York Times shows, the series has gone on to be a monster in the US.
No mistaking quality, and some of the commentators and witnesses say it was so.

Will That Be All, Your 'Majesty'?

Prince Bernhard of the Netherlands confessed to taking more than 1 million USD in bribes from Lockheed to buy the F-104.
Excerpt from this article about the SR177.

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch...

Inside a Streetcar going down the Embarcadero towards the Ferry Building.

In the cool of my room.

San Mateo downtown; famous name, not exactly covered in glory.

The price was $5 dollars, which I thought was a bit steep until I started going up the hill.
Nob Hill wasn't too steep at Chinatown.
All in all pretty good value.

Pure Evil.

Strictly Come Dancing.
Big Brother.
The Apprentice.

All these things are glorying in PURE EVIL, gratuitous and thrown in our faces out of spite and daring, the daring being seeing how long they can get away with the abuse of millions and the enslavement of the few Dolphins in the net that they don't want to throw back.

It is PURE EVIL because it is the deliberate and systemic replacement of dignity, freedom, self-reliance and justice by an entirely artificial social construct of approval, conformity and the judgement of and by peers who regard themselves as superiors.

People LITERALLY jump through hoops and stand on their heads attempting to please superannuated scum which appoints itself to positions of power on the promise that they will drag back in the reluctant television viewer.
Apparently if they smile enough the moral holocaust won't be detected; I'll bet Goebbels smiled that way.

Fred's On Form!

This just in from Fred; Webb for VP. Yes.

This Just In.....

The British Telecom internet spine has been out of action for 18 hours due to hostile action.
Radical, baby!
But as you can see, I'm back.
Resistance is futile.
Tell Sid!

How To Make Enemies and Influence People.

The Vogons have truly taken over.

No, Really, You Couldn't Make This Up

At 8PM on ITV 4 tonight?
The Prisoner!
The episode about the fake brain surgery, where to cure him of being 'unmutual' they drug, terrorise and pretend to lobotomise him.
At every ad break?
Yes! Cartridge World, trying to appeal to our 'social conscience' and stop dumping ink cartridges.
You really, really couldn't make this up.

Think Happy Thoughts Everybody.

On the TV ticker-tape right next to each other: "The government wins 42 day terror detention vote." and "The government admits it has lost top-secret Al-Quaeda files."

You couldn't make this up. These stupid bastards can't look after a simple document, yet they arrogate to themselves the right to lock anybody they choose up for 42 days without charge or trial, provided some jobsworth bleats or blurts the magic 'terror' word on cue and to instruction.

Do these cunts really believe we believe?

I Could'a Been A Contender!

The old Alma Mater does it one more time. Something useful.

By Special Request

ALCATRAZ!

Nice Bridgework - What About The Boatrace

Golden Gate Bridge, as seen from the Wacky Jacky. The bridge cost $22 million; all-private and without a shred of government interference, designed to charge 25 cents for as long as it took to break even, then become free, now still charging - $5.
As we leave the Pacific Ocean behind us and re-enter San Francisco Bay, this was the view over the back.
The city of San Francisco. On the left, the white structure is a docked cruise liner. Apparently San Francisco is the number one tourist destination in the world.

Next Installment.

If you must rebel, this is a good example of how to do it. Seen at the Embarcadero BART station.

An example of the world-famous San Francisco Cable Cars. This one goes up Nob Hill to Polk Street.

A view of the Bay Bridge to Oakland.

In Castalogna's Restaurant, a pint of the superb 'Alaskan' beer.

From my table in the restaurant, the birth which normally holds the Wacky Jacky, a fishing boat which doubles as a tour boat for less than half the price of the regular ferries.


More views from my table. The food was superb.

I Was Walking Down The Street One Day....

A couple of unique San Francisco Streetcars; they have been preserved from the 40s and 50s, as well as augmented by imported antiques from cities such as Milan which no longer require them.


This is the Wells-Fargo bank in Montgomery street. Unfortunately I had left my pistoleros and sombrero in the hotel, so I couldn't mount a raid.

This was a 'get Smart' underpass at the SFO domestic terminal. The real view was much better than the picture shows.
This is the Ferry Terminal, key to exploring the waterfront of San Francisco.
Anyway, so here I am with flowers in my hair.
Better not go down Polk Street.

Whoops!

So here I am five thousand miles from home, and my hotel key stops working.
Go to the desk, they say, "How long are you staying?"
Not a good question seeing as I paid the full $900 the day I arrived. They fix my key, but I can't find my receipt when I get back to my room.
However, thank heaven for computers because they've got the records. All fixed. I'm coming home at the right time.
That's that. Horrible moment averted.
Soon I shall be back in yurp.

Rip Off Britain.

I needed to phone a cab.
I bought a T-Mobile PAYG phone for 15 quid.
The most expensive rate is 33cents per minute, half the UK rate.
The whole thing took five minutes from walking in the shop.
I've been making transcontinental calls to Canada at 33cents/ minute.
The phone is a Nokia which works anywhere in North America.
Vodafone? Don't make me laugh.

Just Gets Better.

I've just been watching C-Span.
The Libertarian Party Conference. The real Libertarian Party. They had a presidential candidate debate with seven candidates. They were the real thing. They spoke intelligently for the most part, with heroes like Ayn Rand, Cicero, Yogi Berra(?) and WSC.
They want to scrap drug laws, income tax and gun laws. They are an excellent collection of people, not to be confused with non-American imitations.
Incidentally, one candidate runs an online poker business. His name is Root.
It will be on again tomorrow; here in Colorado the Libertarian Party gets as much attention as the Labour Party in England.
Don't tell me Britain is free. It isn't.

Holiday

Just been for a trip up the California Street hill - Nob Hill - for a sandwich in town. Obviously I rode the cable car up the hill, but today is a holiday weekend and so I tried to avoid the crowds.
Word to the wise, dudes and dudettes - Chinatown is on the cable car ride, which starts at the Ferry Terminal.
Also starting at the Terminal are East Bay Ferries and the Streetcars(not the same thing), which go along the waterfront to Pier 39 and Fisherman's Wharf. Fisherman's Wharf is a prime tourist attraction, chocka today, but get this; the restaurants a reasonable, the food and beer is superb(you must try an Alaskan) and the place is filled with actual fishing boats.
The souvenirs are quality and not too expensive; for example, San Francisco can get windy, foggy wet and cold on the hottest of days.
So what do the guys sell?
That's right. Windcheaters with linings and hoods for $20. Also bought a decent hoody for $15; of course, it's embroidered with "Alcatraz Psycho Ward - Outpatient".
Works for me.
Try the New York Steak sandwich at Castaglianos, looking over the harbour. Yum.
Only trouble is you need to pay a lot of cab fares.
But once you get to the BART just go to the Embarcadero stop(Ferry Terminal) and that is the key to San Francisco; the Romans knew it, the Carthaginians knew it, and now you know it.

All A Lot Of Fuss Over Nothing.

So there's a knock on the door; it's my new neighbour, he's locked himself out and can he climb across the roof from my kitchen?
Sure.
We introduce ourselves, shake hands and the guy is soon back in his flat.
Bollocks to the last two weeks.
Paranoia? Test of patience and character more like.
The guy really isn't much trouble.
But I might still move.
No neighbours is still better than good neighbours.
Guess I wouldn't fit in Australia. Then again, there was that guy from WA I worked with in the eighties; stock phrase?
"Yer nearest neighbour is fifty miles away - if you're unlucky!"
On hols from tomorrow. Pictures to follow in a couple of weeks.

It's All ABout Oil?

The USA is the world's biggest wheat exporter.
The Middle East is the world's biggest wheat importer.
Why go to war?
We could collapse the lot and starve them out in months.

Whose Side Are You On?

This is an article about the people who want to save everything.
But not poor people, apparently. After years of violent nursery school-type campaigning, they have finally forced the food companies to cut research.
And the result?
Food shortages.
Hitting the poor.
Fucking humanitarians?
Boil 'em in oil.

Don't Forget Now.

In the Yorkshire Post, a little reminder of absolute inspiration.

Carter - More Than Just Peanuts

When Carter took office in 1977 he ordered a review of the entire program. By this point the projected cost of the program had risen to over $100 million per aircraft, although this was lifetime cost over 20 years. He was informed of the relatively new work on stealth aircraft that had started in 1975, and decided that this was a far better avenue of approach than the B-1. Pentagon officials also stated that the ALCM launched from the existing B-52 fleet would give the USAF equal capability of penetrating Soviet airspace. With a 1,500 statute mile (2,400 km) range, the ALCM could be launched well outside the range of any Soviet defenses, and penetrate at low altitude just like a bomber, but in much greater numbers. A small number of B-52 operating outside interception range could launch hundreds of ALCMs, saturating the defense. A program to improve the B-52 and develop and deploy the ALCM would cost perhaps 20% of the price to deploy the planned 244 B-1A's.^[12]

On 30 June 1977 Carter announced that the B-1A would be cancelled in favor of ICBMs, SLBMs, and a fleet of modernized B-52s armed with ALCMs.^[7] Carter called it "one of the most difficult decisions that I've made since I've been in office." No mention of the stealth work was made public, the program being top secret, but today it is known that he authorized the Advanced Technology Bomber (ATB) project in early 1978, which eventually led to the B-2 Spirit.^[13]

Taken from Wikipedia, with thanks.

I Live And Learn.

When the bastards learn what it is that makes your life pleasant and dare I say, tolerable, they waste no time in trying to abuse this suspicion at their earliest opportunity.
So for example, if they suspect that your 'Invisible Sun' is writing on the www, or anywhere for that matter, they will try to cut your rights off at the knee.
Thus the power cut, to divorce me from my pursuits.
My responses?
Either remove their agent(the rapid route to criminalisation, so much easier in these days of no defence) or buy a UPS to restore my right defensively.
Which latter is the course I have chosen first.
Of course, Nat Taggart's option was to build a railway, and when the bastards tried to cut that right, he killed one.
Which worked in the 19th century. Or in the superlative fiction of Ayn Rand.
Of course, tomorrow I find out whether or not I have succeeded in delivering myself entirely from these life-forms' clutches.
Maybe it is just coincidence; but two weeks ago I was getting all excited about my first trip abroad in two years.
Then they hit me.
Again, as is so often the case when something good is on the horizon. And I don't agree with Frank Sinatra;that is not life. That is the chronic operating method of the bastards.
Well now. In another month I could be out of their reach again.
They aren't so numerous.
They also cannot or will not make much effort to hide.
Look for the out-of-place young creep, hanging around your street corner, clocking you and filing your face away for his bosses, finding you again. Not an ordinary type, a face far too cunning and busy to fit.
They have access to local authorities, they have access to electoral roles, they have access to bent business - there is much of this in Yorkshire, which is tied up pretty tightly by the bretheren.
I'm sure if I do get out, they will keep trying; but what to do? No neighbours, no chance, just the direct approach.
Which would be unwise of them. Even assuming they found me at all.
Filthy bastards that they are.

Renewed Purpose.

I went to see a new flat yesterday.
It is in the country, miles from the nearest town, with no immediate neighbours. I have expressed an interest.
Even if I don't get it, I have seen paradise, and it is real.
The loudest noise was the Swallows playing in the hedgerows. The flat costs the same as the one I'm in, and a mate at work lives nearby, so we'd share transport costs.
No neighbours.
No neighbours!
I'll keep an eye out for more of the same.

What Can I Say?

No, really. There's a lot of them about. The mewling, obsessive, creeping transient 'population' of Britain.
Nowhere else in the world is the desire to own ones own house so widespread, or so necessary, due to the endemic inability of the British psyche to leave other people the hell alone!
Obvoiusly, through all the years and all the sieges, no bastard has previously arrogated to itself the right to violate my rights to access the world by shutting off my power.

It probably won't happen again.
The fact that is happened at 11pm( the legal 'no loud music' hour) indicates that the life-form exists in thrall to some ideal of 'rules'. Not that I was listening to music. Just laughing at 'Big Bang Theory', and as we all know, laughter and enjoyment are the great satan of the British oppressive classes.
God help him if he does it again.
In any case I've bought an Uninterruptable Power Supply so my physical rights are safeguarded.

They're Heeere!

So the new tenant makes no effort to introduce itself.
Curtains drawn in furtive rejection, the keys jingle every time he goes in and out of the door.
And that is often.
Yes.
One of those.
Meanwhile at eleven in the evening my power goes off.
Total blackout.
In the street? The lights are on.
So I start down to the hall, and see a crack of light under the door.
Halfway down the power comes on again.
Much key-jangling and door-closing.
Oh dear. Who knows what pressures made the lovely previous tenants leave?
Is this creep part of the organisation?
Likely, since no exchanges have happened, no nuisance from me, just 'Wham!' straight in and my server is down.
On the other hand, there is an automatic power-out switch if an earth fault develops.
But then why would it come on again?
Why has it never happened before?
Why did it happen only after he went in the hall?
Maybe he was changing a fuse?
Take it easy.
And start looking for a non-shared property.

Make Common Cause Against Common Purpose

"What do you want?"
"Control"
"Where am I?"
"In Britain."
"Who are you?"
"We are Common Purpose."
"Who is Number One?"
"You are of interest."
"Whose side are you on?"
"That would be telling."
"I am not part of your plan!"
"Then you will fail."
"Fail in what?"
"In everything you try to do."
"I am a Free Man!"
"Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first drive mad. Ha ha ha ha ha !"

Oxy-Morons.

Just thought I'd let you in on an interesting secret.
The British Libertarian Party only allows membership on approval, and then no other party membership is allowed.
This means, that they are trying to dismantle the state, and replace it with a 'Libertarian' Monopoly.

As George Orwell said, to paraphrase 'Animal Farm', "they looked from pig to human, human to pig, and they couldn't tell the difference any more..."

All hail to the Zanu-Libertarian Party.

Foreign Policy.

The Local Government Association was particularly critical of the binding targets imposed from Whitehall.

"Imposing centrally-decided unachievable targets may deliver new homes, but will not deliver communities," it warns.
- in the Yorkshire Post today.
What with all the controversy, should we engage in yet another 'nation-building' programme, especially in an area as sensitive and volatile as Great Britain, for years a defender of the Free West way of life?
Even now the indigenous populations of places such as London have expressed support for the more Conservative elements of their communities, where Boris El-Johnson has recently assumed leadership of the local authority.

Napster Is Shite.

Looking for 'that song'?
Don't look in Napster.
They only deal with Windows computers.
They will ask for all your personal information.
Their software will take over your computer.
You won't be able to uninstall it when you find that they don't even have what you wanted and cannot supply it.
Even if they did they would retain control.
They charge as much as a broadband account for their 'service'.
Their software is slow and rigid.
Their signing up process is slow, rigid and intrusive.

Napster- the cutting edge file-sharing service beloved of the 'end of the world' MSM- is nothing more than a power-and-money grab by a bunch of authoritarian control freaks.

I am now considering whether to reinstall windows or just hack the registry to remove their fixed software intrusion.
Obviously I've deleted what I can find.
It's what I can't find that worries me.

Sure. You Bet.

The Verdict, or How To Fix Hardy Heron Display

I've finally upgraded my Linux server.
Faced with the prospect of loss of support on Feisty Fawn, and tempted by the prospect of obtaining a five year support programme for nothing, I downloaded Hardy Heron Server from Ubuntu.
The success of the project was mixed and not without difficulties.
On Thursday I tried to back up all my music to a spare drive; much was lost and about halfway through I backed up only my essential files and cut to the chase.

The installation is superior to older versions. However, choosing 'Guided' partitioning resulted in a tiny partition with the Heron in a corner of the drive which had been spare. There was no sound, the video resolution (which was automatically configured ) was only 800x600 and very blocky, and Firefox wouldn't start. To compound matters there was no effective networking as I had given the new installation a duplicate name.

I rebooted to the (intact) Feisty Fawn and tried again Friday night.
This time I ran GParted Live to image the disk.
It took all night, and failed at the last moment to install a mount point on the destination disk.

On Saturday morning I installed anyway.
I was left with the faulty display, no sound and a system which, though partial, had been easy to install.
Particularly noteworthy was the reliability of downloading the iso file to Feisty and burning an image with a right-click.

All day I couldn't fix the display. I remembered an old Edgy Eft trick for sound; simply use Alsa Mixer to change the settings, which are all muted by default.
Fucking stupid thing to do on install, but there you are.
The display resolution was more of a problem.
The configuration in Heron is fully automatic, and the 'fixes' on the internet were typically clueless.
The configuration file was difficult to edit as all the entries now are non-specific.
However, I found the absolute king of fixes on the xorg website after several hours.
They said, "don't use displayconfig-gtk" a utility introduced with Gutsy Gibbon.
So I used it.
It had a list of practically every monitor ever made, including my ten-year-old CTX.
So I selected my monitor, and a list of the proper resolutions appeared; I applied the biggest, and now I have a beautiful, fully working installation.
My personal website was up and running (automatic server start on boot, another improvement) in a short while.

Setting up e-mail was easy, and getting the networking up was simply a matter of re-naming my XP computer (redundant systems make for better maintenance).

All I have to do now is take my time and rebuild my music collection. It's all legal CD Audio source anyway.

PS-: After two days, I am finding that the computer boots twice as fast and operations take place much faster; the directory structure now comes automatically with integrated Music and Document folders, which make filing much easier and less cluttered.
Rhythmbox absorbs new music on instruction without leaving behind key songs, although I haven't seen it auto-find like it used to.

The single negative factor is that when either the music player or the web-browser has ben playing sounds, the other is locked out of the soundcard.
Pity. Feisty used to play any mixture of sources simultaneously.

Red Ken

It's Ten PM Friday.
Still no result in the London Mayoral Election.
Is Livingston pulling a Zimbabwe?

Another Day, Another Headline.

Hardly a day goes by at the moment without somebody, somewhere, reporting the latest communist outrage.
The parade of the Olympic Torch in just about every place possible, wherever the communists have a chance of creating a lie, is the outrage which sees these criminals rubbing their denials in our faces, simply to see just how far the deceit will carry.

They pretend to the title of 'responsible', 'power', 'world class influence' and 'benign sponsor', but they do it in the cheapest and easiest ways they can; they don't mind if, behind the handshakes and smiles, they aren't taken seriously.
They just want to be taken at any rate, happy to bulldoze thought out of existence even in its home countries, mobilising their terrified student stooges with blackmail and the threat of death at home so that they must support the monstrousness.
Such has been the change in the attitude of the students, that I can only assume they are making a fearful play for equally insincere loyalty, having seen what a fake the West's pursuit of freedom is after Tiannenman Square, where they were abandonned by their sponsors here.

Now the tyrants enjoy a revolting popularity, only partly based on fear, mostly due to the lack of external hope, the lack of anywhere willing to let them stay as defectors, and the desperate clinging to the mantra of 'country right or wrong' as the sad consolation for their rejection by the West.
Indeed, the students find that their masters' attitudes are echoed by the authorities here, in an attempt to partition our culture into accepting 'two-systems, one world' .
The Chinese tyrants have swallowed our efforts, and are now vomiting them back at us in an attempt to overwhelm our outrage, while all the while real-politik is arranged to make them stronger and more indispensible by the hour.

They are a new Soviet Union; but this time they really do have the means to make our system collapse.