Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Fungal emotions

Thinking about the fungus affecting ash trees, I have been wondering if there are other fungi affecting our lives adversely.
In particular, I wonder if there is a fungus which makes otherwise rational people who do not even seem to like children, except as some kind of animated toy, desire strongly to become parents.
It could explain a lot.
Yesterday I was in Moribunds Supermarket when I heard the cockatiel screech of an uncontrolled child. Or so I thought.
I am so sick of the noise I tried to ignore it, but the sound grew louder and presently two young but exhausted people came towards me pushing an elaborate armoured vehicle, a baroque perambulator, from which came a chorus of avian sounds.
I looked in and saw the little face; but it was a bird's face; and just under the covers there were feathers and a wing horribly crushed in an attempt to hide it, I believe.
What are you doing? I shouted. You have a bird there. You'll hurt it. What are you doing?
They began to say shsh, a sound that would-be proud parents often make.
Don't shush me, I began, so cross that they were dressing up a bird as a baby.
Please, Sir, said the man. PLEASE. Please don't tell on us. We so want a baby.
Well, have a baby, I said; but don't confine a wild creature
We can't have a baby, he said. She muttered the same thing.
Adopt one, then, I said. I keep hearing how there is a shortage of foster parents. If you actually like the things, apply.
It takes too long, she said.
Yes, he said. We can't wait. We want to be normal. And this sounds like a baby.
What do you mean by normal? I asked
Normal, he said. Like everybody else. We want to be normal.
I called the RSPCA and they were taken away, screaming they would kill me for being heartless and intolerant of basic human desires.

Beetle juice

Many years ago now I wrote several drafts of a short story which I never took to completion. In it, an Iraqi scientist goes in to see Saddam Hussein and announces that he has almost perfected the ultimate weapon and can he have some funding to finish.
This was long long before the dodgy dossier etc
He calls his invention beetle juice, from a substance supposedly in common beetles. I had been watching stag beetles making their way across a garden, clambering over each other when necessary. It occurred to me that it was quite odd from a human point of view although probably quite reasonable from the beetle's point of view.
But sticking with that sense of oddity, one might envisage some bodily fluid which does something or other the insect needs but has an odd side effect of taking away its sense of space.
So, says the scientist, to Strong Man Hussein, I have made some of this stuff in the laboratory. It affects humans in much the same way as it affects beetles, but with the further effect that because some human beings are more self-aware than stag beetles, it has great potential for starting fights. And the effect is irreversible. One sniff and your sociability is trashed for life.
I had some fun with the story, or began to; because, as I say, I didn't finish; and I had them debating how to trash the west and evaluating different approaches. The scientist, who was trying to be funded, persuaded the big cheese that one should take the long view and not be in too much hurry to defeat a member of NATO because that might bring its own problems. Let me atomise a few litres of this stuff in the air of London,e said; and within ten years the whole country will disintegrate.
I only mention it because I am wondering if there isn't something in the idea; and someone has done it.

Monday, 29 October 2012

Ash trees

So now we are to lose our ash trees, even though the people who put themselves in charge knew it was coming. I heard some minister or other – all Tories blur into one for me on the radio (or into a few apparent breeds when you can actually see them) on the radio yesterday insisting that all was being done as quickly possible because... a ban would come into effect today

They didn't say well the Labour Party didn't do anything either, which would have been true but irrelevant, because they weren't admitting that there was any avoidable problem.

But one found out, as this and that was said over the day, that the government (Labour and from 2010 Tory / Libdem) was asked to act some time in 2009. So we're probably looking at three years for this disease to get hold during which well-paid liars played with themselves.

At some point – I think it was today's Farming programme – I heard that we couldn't have done anything because of the EU. The Farming journalists tend to be a little more alert than the political and this one asked if that was the case. He coughed in murmured reply and said he thought so, but he couldn't say for sure.

Fiddling with themselves for three years.

Fashionable Idiocy Handjob Maestro of the Month announced

On 7th October 2012, I awarded J. McDonald of j.mcdonold@gmx.com my Handjob Maestro of the week. This was for sending me information I did not want and had not asked for, the content of which of which suggested to me that onanism is the sender's main mental process. I was left to unsubscribe. Well, this faecal excrescence has sent me much the same crap again to the same email address, the email address from which I unsubscribed. I have unsubscribed again and notice that the best this vermin offers is “You should not receive any further email.” He still doesn't seem to be able to spell his own surname He quotes at the end of his email “When angry count to ten; when very angry, swear.” I shall award him my Handjob Maestro of the Month

Friday, 26 October 2012

Government spending

Mr Cameron is accused to divulging figures which have been given him in confidence and thereby manipulating the markets.I'm glad that he realises they have to be manipulated.

I am glad too that he realises the importance of spending money to stimulate the economy. We threw away billions on sport in the Olympics but he is happy to take the credit for the anti-recessionary effect of that spending.

He could now authorise a similar expenditure on the arts and improve the economy even further. He could build houses and not airports.

We don't need green fields built on but the industrial wastelands dealt with, just as we did for the Olympics. Housing and Art. That'll start the economy.

& introducing a proper population policy for the rich as well as those on benefits will take pressure off the taxes in the long term.

Friday, 19 October 2012


You probably know the joke. In case you don't, I'll tell you the version I have.

God calls Adam to him.

“Yes,” says Adam, in a surly fashion.

“I've got an upgrade for you.”

“Another one? It's nothing but upgrades.”

“Ah,” says God, “but this one's a major upgrade.”

“Oh joy,” says Adam.

“Yes,” says God, “its marketing name is the thought and sex experience. I am going to give you the most powerful brain of any creature. No more simple reactions to your environment. That just makes you grumpy, as we have seen. Now you can interact with and change your experience.” Adam grunts. “And I am going to give you what we call private parts. No more splitting in two to make offspring. We're rolling it out across a range of species – but only you get the brain too. Now you'll be able to reproduce and keep all your memories. You'll be the same person.”

“What's so good about that?” asks Adam.

“You'll see.”

“I suppose I must.”

“There's only one thing.... There's a slight technical hitch. We're working on it, of course; but for now you can only think OR have sex. You can't do the two together. Now go to sleep...”

That joke occurred to me this morning as I was walking down the high street trying to avoid people on mobile phones.

I thought of language being invented overnight: and God said “Let there be language”

How astonishing that would be.

How astonishing would that be?

There's the Emerson quote about the stars appearing once in millennia.

You know we'd get used to it.

I looked at people clasping the little boxes to their ears and chattering away and wondered how much had been achieved by all that communication

Thursday, 18 October 2012

more on wix

They have replied

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wix.com admins

and so fast it could have been done by human hand

so you cannot unsub

it is a lie

wix com

Wix com just sent me an advert email about their products

They tell me I can unsub if I wish to

But I never subscribed

I have complained rudely

It will be interesting to see if they reply and to see how self-righteous they are

Me, me

A "meme" is a bit of cultural zeitgeist trapped in the form of bits and pixels, passed along via Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. says the BBC News magazine in Washington, reported on the BBC website.

Well, no it isn't.

What the post-literate lady is describing is a fashionable idiocy. What she is telling us is what she and perhaps her accomplices in damaging the language think it means.

I'd want the word "idea" in any definition, and I mean more than a passing concatenation of imitated words that make up what we might call her Consciousness Experience.

Mind you, I suppose if your meme is to talk bollocks then her definition works

(Earlier on today I read elsewhere that Travelling is an important part of the Travelling Experience.)

Notice too the use of "zeitgeist".

And when is the zeitgeist not cultural?

Wednesday, 17 October 2012

the appearance of investigative journalism

An item on R4 Todas programme on the establishment of the Israeli Ariel university on Palestinian territory – that's the Palestinian territory that the world acknowledges is Palestinian - brought variations on a theme.

In a rather elegant non sequitur, someone they'd found to defend Error Israel, there are plenty willing, started at the complaint and came out towards the end of his sentence asking how anyone could suggest that Jewish people are not associated with the area.

The interviewer did not ask him what the hell he was talking about,;probably too scared he'd be accused of being in favour of the holocaust

and another... in my own words “Why are people complaining about what we do in the occupied territories when they should be complaining about what is happening in Syria?”

The interviewer did not say that we care about that too but that maybe the problem in Syria is the same as the problem in Palestine – a few people making exceptionalist racist claims

If he had, there might have been a scream: you see! everyone hates us

and so it continues.


and later Lord Freud – just say that to yourself (Lord... Freud...) and feel the absurdity in your veins

Lord Freud assured as or seemed to that transitional arrangements for malingerers like the disabled would just go on and on

That's why they're called transitional I suppose

But of course the interviewer didn't ask about that

I mean, he is a Lord


I wonder how Jimmy Savile got away with it

Tuesday, 16 October 2012

Child abuse

What a gift Jimmy Savile has been to people who want to change the subject or find an excuse to attack the BBC

Clive Anderson put it rather well. I don't have his exact words, but the broad gist was what a pity it is that we do not have a press willing to invade people's privacy and find out what is really going on

I am very doubtful indeed about a lot of the horror being expressed and a lot of the concern about the well-being of young people.

Lots of people who would never dream of putting their hands up a girl's skirt will teach her all sorts of nonsense in the name of education and in pursuit of cheaply bought labour

Monday, 15 October 2012

A conversation in the agora

NARRATOR: We have a man here in this cafe who is a researcher for a University. He has been without his email for a month because the university has upgraded his email. It seems to him that no one will criticise the I T department. This annoys him.

He has just received an email to his personal account from the I T Dept which tells him that they have added information to his job number and gives him a link to click. As the link requires that he have an up to date email account, it will not work. This annoys him.

He emails them and tells them that this same thing happened three weeks ago.

They write back and say they are sorry but the reason they cannot reconnect him is because they are waiting for a component. They add a link for further information which does not work. This annoys him.

He emails them and asks: What component is it that singles out one user?

They write back and say that the reason they cannot reconnect him is because they do not know why they disconnected him. When they have found that out, then they should be able to reconnect him. They add a link for further information which does not work. This annoys him.

He writes back and says that is is quite clear how the situation has arisen: they have not followed good practice. He expands upon this in detail.

Through all this time a child has been screaming. He is near to the man. He is a boy of two years old at the most and he is making the maximum noise possible. His mother is sipping a coffee placidly. His grandmother is reading a magazine.

All around people are making faces at each other. One says: You can't do anything can you?

 MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: You two are being very selfish. Please keep your child quiet.

NARRATOR: The mother looks at the man contemptuously and goes back to her coffee. The child screams.

The university write back and say that the reason that they cannot reconnect him is because there are ambiguities in their database which they do not understand. When they have resolved that.... They add a link for further information which does not work. This annoys him.

After some minutes, the man without email loses his temper

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: Shut the noise


NARRATOR: The man without email says to the university that they should have checked the database before using it and not after. (He does not actually believe their story but suspects they will get genuinely upset if he says so; and he has no idea how to deal with such shallow and baseless upset.) He asks for his account to be restored.

Child screams.


MOTHER: All children make a noise

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: Some parents teach them to be quiet or take them away from others

MOTHER: He's not bothering you. No one else cares.

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: He is bothering me. That man cares but he may be scared to say so. Most of us care but you take advantage of our politeness

MOTHER: He's a child. You're an adult; act it.

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: You too are an adult. Take your responsibility as an adult.

MOTHER: You have grey hair. You should know better. It's nothing to do with you.

NARRATOR Child screams.

The university ask the man without email for his user name. They add a link for further information which does not work. This annoys him.

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: It's everything to do with me.

MOTHER: You only think that because you have a laptop.

NARRATOR Child screams.


MOTHER: You think you're clever; but you're not. You're stupid. You think: I've got a laptop so you must all do as I say.

NARRATOR: The man without email points out that he gave the university his account data a month ago. He repeats it.

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: You're a fool.

NARRATOR Child screams.

MAN WITH CLOSE CROPPED HAIR: You're out of order mate. You can't speak to a woman like that.

NARRATOR The university I T experts say that they cannot reconnect the man without email until tomorrow after an overnight process has run. They add a link for further information which does not work.

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: Oh I see. You think women should have special treatment do you?


NARRATOR Around him his attendants nod agreement

Child screams.


MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: Madam, will you keep that child quiet or at least quieter?


MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: That's your best word for me is it?


MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: So much for your concern for women


MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: You're sexist. As sexist as she is selfish

MAN WITHOUT CLOSE CROPPED HAIR: She's right. You do think you're clever. Listen mate you're talking shit and you're a wanker and you're a cunt

NARRATOR Woman and mother and screaming child leave, child still screaming

MAN WITHOUT CLOSE CROPPED HAIR: You've driven them out.

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: I'm glad they've gone if they can't keep quiet

MAN WITHOUT CLOSE CROPPED HAIR: You're arrogant you cunt


MAN WITHOUT CLOSE CROPPED HAIR: There's no point in talking to you (exeunt)

NARRATOR The man without university email asks why the university didn't run the overnight process a month ago. After a few minutes, by way of reply, they apologise for any inconvenience. They add a link for further information.

WAITRESS: It's quieter now.

MAN WITHOUT EMAIL: Sorry about that

WAITRESS: No, you're right. People have no right behaving like that; but we're not allowed to do anything

Thursday, 11 October 2012

Last night in Moribunds

I have to say that the Tories have been as good as their word.

I was in Moribunds Super Market in Sutton last night and there were a woman and a man really taking their time packing at a payment gate; and then they took their time having a scratch – I tell the truth – and then took their time finding their credit cards; and the longer they took the more funny they thought it was.

And suddenly Theresa May, the unattractive but rather dominant Home Secretary, appeared.

Who would have thought that she would visit us? And in Moribunds?

I suppose it's their refit. They've cleared out all the last century food furniture and moved everything around to wake up our hunter gatherer instincts. They've lowered the temperature so that the throughput to their cafe is speeded up. And they have made it very very bright. So much light! They can see us; we can see the goodies. It is exciting. Market Street dominates, of course. Much better than a real Market Street.

It's very modern and she would want to be associated with that.

Ms May screamed: “This woman and this man are antisocial. Punish them.” Her guardian policeperson leapt forward and pistol whipped them.

“What have we done?” screamed the woman.

“You,” said Ms May, as if she were struggling to control herself, “have wasted time; and time is the essence of money-making; and money-making is the essence of life.”

“Yes,” said the man. “I see that now. The woman tempted me. Please forgive me. Forgive us.”
And I saw that to Ms May's left, and one or two steps back, there was God the Father, watching approvingly and in conversation with Rupert Murdoch.

“Leave this supermarket!” cried the Home Secretary. “Never return here. It is too good for you. All your days you will shop in Asda and struggle to find bargains such as you have become used to. And never dare to get in the way of the ordinary decent people whose time you have wasted.”

And they crawled away to to fresh deals and offers new.

Artificial intelligence

I just got my personalised shopping recommendations from Amazon
A sweatshirt for 64 pounds
A Nespresso machine
Jake and the Neverland Pirates Yoho Let's Go Talking Figure
Slendertone Abs Female Abdominal Toning Belt
A camera of lower quality than the one they recently sold me
A watch 12 times the price of the one they last sold me
An amusing DVD
Another amusing DVD
Seiko Oxford Crossword Solver
A Digital Drum Kit
A poorly specced laptop

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

The Tories talk sense

I regret to say it.

I feel odd saying it.

But there has been a lot of sense talked by the Tories this week.

Why should people on benefits get money when they have another child while people not on benefits have to think about it? it was asked.

I'm not sure it's that simple; nor is the question really a population policy. But it's a start.

And then Theresa May has promised us that when people behave antisocially towards us, we may choose how they are punished.

I look forward standing beneath the High St crosses of screaming neglectful parents, saying ssshhh, sssssh, what is the matter with you? sssshhh, well I'm going home then.

And David Cameron has extended the notion of what is violent to include the kind of understanding I have always had e.g. Capitalism is violent. He will allow us to use violence whenever anyone invades our space and our privacy.

This is incredibly brave of him. He keeps invading me. It's a truly Damascene conversion. I propose not to take advantage and suggest that we only inflict violence on people who try to steal from us from, say, tomorrow morning. And only to deter, of course.

I hope he means it because lies invade me and are violent acts.

It couldn't be kept up, of course, and now he's talking complete bollocks about aspiration and rising again. I'm afraid that people will believe it; and that can only lead to violent acts like denying me support for my art and charging too much for the things I need.

Tuesday, 9 October 2012

Cafe blog

A little while ago, the excellent Steve Hanson emailed me: “I take much cathartic strength from your café blogs. They tell me that I'm human for feeling the same way and not dysfunctional for refusing to get gang raped quietly in those places, by their light jazz music, and their acceptance of amnesiac oblivion and a refusal to acknowledge the other as the default human setting...”

I'm probably more tolerant of the café itself than he. I am most inclined to hate a certain strand of clientèle which seems to gain a sense of entitlement from having children, when it is probably a sign that they're too stupid to practice contraception. I'd say the evidence is at least 50:50.

We have had in here just now 5 children simultaneously turning into cockatiels. The first one to do it today was so unwarranted there was no warning and so shrill that I shouted Shut up before I thought about it.

That is blasphemy.

It has been suggested that some common ancestor of the various human species at present roaming the urban wastes of the planet one day looked at a waterfall or a leaking gutter or some such, felt awe and so had the first religious experience. That may be so but it's a slightly different meaning of the root word, laid claim to by the believers amongst us.

Religion started the first time someone wanted to be told what to do. Eric Mottram caught it rather well in a poem many years ago when he pictured those who wake in the middle of the night screaming “I need a judge”.

Religion itself comes down to a set of behavioural axioms dressed up.

So we're looking at something that the domestic dog manages: anticipating what behaviour is acceptable to dim humans and trying not to cause trouble.

So much is raised to the level of the sacred, mostly to avoid having to face up to and consider contradictions.

So when I blasphemed today people looked at me all round the cafe, more with disbelief and dismay than disapproval. It was: look at the weirdo. Look at the one who isn't like us.

After some minutes I was challenged verbally, though I had said nothing else, presumably by those who feared we were now in trouble as a race and couldn't stand the suspense; and to those who wanted to listen, I put my case. The staff paid no attention. Mine was one more egotistical scream to them.

I disputed that all children make a lot of noise all the time without warning; and when one of the asbos shouted Are you saying I am not bringing up my children properly, I said yes. This was clearly an unexpected answer. She didn't respond.

I referred to the group which had been in here earlier and had included the child in what they were doing and had no noisy difficulties.

They didn't know about that, said some mothers. No, I said, but they were still here; and some here saw them. There were reluctant nods.

All this time brats were running up and down, choosing the time and place for their tantrums as they trained their parents.

Could I do any better? I was asked and I said that I would be happy to discuss this if they wouldn't mind conceding it is irrelevant. People DO manage; I do not bring children into the cafe.

And on and on.

Oh yes, that last brought: I don't know what you're talking about.

It wasn't true. It was a lie to avoid the point.

I did get through a little to one, seemingly; and she kept saying sshhh to her child. This was clearly unprecedented and the kid took her on with considerable skill and understanding of tactics. Once away from the cafe the routine will return to normal, I am sure.

Someone said I had a point but we all to live together, don't we. I said I saw no sign of such tolerance from the other side – I neglected to tell you about the brief political speech about democratic rights which the antisocials had tried to make.

Sorry: rites.

That's a bit unfair, he said.

In what way? I asked

I don't know, he said

Two other of the 5 young mothers were in a frenzy apparently that anyone should speak to them in such terms and banged around and eventually banged out, lathering the children's emotions into a younger frenzy as they went.

We're not all so bloody perfect as you, screamed one of the two. (Oh Lord I am a sinner and I'd like 27 other cases taken into account. Oh good, now I am free of sin again)

And everyone of these people has the vote.

Jimmy Saville

About time the BBC apologised for Jimmy Saville, quite apart from his sexual exploits, but I am struck by the vehemence of some attacks. The baying of the self-justifying ignorant mob as well as the righteous condemnation.

Ignoring the pronouncements of the can't-think-won't-thinks, I've been trying to get my head back to when I started work, late 60s, early 70s. I worked in a big office and it was almost entirely male.

I remember declining one day, late teens, to look at a dirty picture (which might make me sound more correct or virtuous than I was or am) and being told: Why not? We don't want any poofs here.

A woman dj remarked a few days ago that when she objected to being groped she was asked Why not? Are you a lesbian?

I think we were all, males anyway, pretty repulsive.

Men making decisions. Women in the typing pool.

But the intensity of condemnation intrigues me. Something is happening here and I don't know what it is.

The death of Gideon Osborne

I've forgotten what I was going to write. I had a number of processes running with my gmail account open and this website came up with no way in. I had to wait till the processes ended and then log out of gmail; and now blogger opens.
Did someone say _restrictive practices_?
Oh yes, I know
As Joe Worker was going home from the UK Trade Fair and Labour Struggle he met the pedlar Gideon. Gideon said _Hallo Joe. How are you?_
Joe said _Do I know you?__ and Gideon said _Course you do. I'm One Nation Gideon, friend to the workers. You've got a lot of paper there. It must be heavy."
Joe said _I don't mind. It's my workers' rights_
_Oh poo,_ said Gideon, _I've got something much better. THIS piece of paper, it's called a loyalty card, entitles you to a handful of coffee beans. That'll make you rich immediately._
_What's the catch?_ asked Joe
_No catch_ said Gideon. _You give me your employment rights and I'll give you the loyalty card_
Joe thought about it for a while in what some might think was a slow way and then he said _Fuck off_ and Gideon boiled away in a rage until there was nothing left but a small malignant tumour in a puddle of vomit.

Monday, 8 October 2012

A letter floods in

As a radio programme used to say, a letter has flooded in. 2 actually. Emails. From people who do not engage with this blog but who are apparently interested in what I write. (I send out copies) One came and I left it. Now another...

The first asks why when I am so able to express myself elegantly (their word) and fluently do I write here vulgarly, obscenely, aggressively etc. Why do I keep referring to bodily fluids and masturbation.

Good questions.

I have trouble with a lot of words of abuse because they are sexist.

Masturbation seems to me a useful metaphor. It is the individual seeking their own satisfaction to the exclusion of all else.

My friend, the late Alaric Sumner, used to ask me why I used wanker as a term of abuse. Wanking was, he said, a wonderful thing to do. Sometimes he would add that it is the safest form of sex. He'd had more than his share of grief from lovers so it may be that, when he said that, he was meaning more than sexual transmission of disease.

I agree with all that and I accept that I indulge a little in self-loathing when I use the term. It's taken me a while to see that.

And yet, if you have ever had the odd fortune to be around someone bringing themselves off as part of an activity which does not include you, then you will know the odd view it can give you of humanity.

From there (and other directions) it is not far to a perception of bombast and rhetoric as a kind of private pleasure.

Then there is a more abstract approach whereby I have referred to Onan as the father of modern administration. Now a bible reader of my past acquaintance has taken me to task quite vigorously for equating what Onan did with masturbation.

It is, colloquially, how the name is used; and, as I understand it, from Jehovah's point of view, it was much the same in one way – personal pleasure before what we should be doing.

Calling someone an onanist has another advantage in that they may not recognise the word and one has a chance of shouting it and running for the door before they respond, perhaps violently.

All over the country millions of employees are saying How may I help you? as a part of procedural acts which have no chance of being any help. Managers are responding to what they call issues, because of course there are no problems, which will not work.

I am tired of mentioning noisy children, and I bet you are fed up with it, but that's because there are so many of them. There is one here now. It is SCREAMING. The adults with it are making it worse because of their behaviour. They are damaging the child. They are spoiling this space for everyone else with their insouciant selfishness.

The cafe does nothing because they come in to spend money. The rest of us suffer.

Most persuade themselves they don't mind because they have been trained to fear the kind of anger I feel.

Quite where these arrogant inanities get their sense of entitlement from, I do not know; and I would happily see them postnatally recycled; but they are quite clearly, in the language community in which I grew up, wankers; just like those with the authority in the cafe management, in the lawmakers

As to shit. I do understand. But we are given shit to do, to eat, to think.

I take the point as a stylistic problem. If that's all I say, it is boring.

I'll think about it.

Sunday, 7 October 2012

Handjob Maestro of the Week

This week's Handjob Maestro of the Week goes to J L McDonald of j.mcdonold@gmx.com who offered me a quote Free Webinar! unquote
McDonald of McDonold asks: Is getting to the top of Google searches important to you? Do you
know where your company ranks on Google, Yahoo, and/or Bing?
and then without giving me a chance to answer says: If so, I believe that you, and your company, may benefit from training on Google/SEO.
He wants me to improve my Google ranking with 10 proven free tools.
I suppose google ranking in mockney rhyming slang.
He sends me his Best regards. Him and his belief
gave this bipedal dog turd no reason that I would be interested in his belief.
He sent his invitation to a temporary email used for the convenience of those whom I am editing for a particular project. He sent it to no other. It is possibly the least likely email address that I have. It cannot benefit from google ranking or any other solitary pastime.
Therefore it seems only right to award M of M the Handjob Maestro. He has already received the traditional greeting for anyone in the running for this prestigious prize: go and have sex with yourself Why not write to MoM yourself and wish him luck – he's all on his own there

Saturday, 6 October 2012

The case for post natal abortion

I suppose that, if you are one of the rare creatures who survives the abortionist's bucket, and survives to adulthood, it isn't beyond imagination that you would have negative feelings about the process.

The more so, if you achieve high office even when it is known that such office is only achieved by brown nosing, arse licking and bull shitting. The Brown Studies, as we used to call them.

I do feel for Jeremy Hunt. To know that you were not wanted. To know that you were deliberately sent for disposal down a vacumm tube. It doesn't bear thinking about by the empathetic.

But, as I am sure thebiggest and most famous Hunt in the country would agree, sympathy must be combined with toughness when there are difficult decisions to be made.

The Hunt has damaged the arts severely and now he is going on to damage Health. That's worse. There are and perhaps always will be many bucket escapees in the Arts. The Arts do need to devour themselves a little but. Perhaps a lot. They need to be unreliable to some extent if only because the cheats and liars are so good at dissemblance. If the rules were too strict, the Arts would be become bureaucratised, as they are to a considerable extent already, and the unskilled unintelligent but persuasive curators would take over. So the only way for good curators and genuinely and interesting artists is to turn a blind eye to the occasional turd floating near the beach.

But Health must be as good as it can get. Everyone except those designated for what I might call Post Natal Abortion must be given the best treatment.

And the opinions of a half-broken foetus are not to be influential.

I don't care what his opinions are. I want arguments. And I don't want arguments based on a belief after death, personal creation -- creation of any kind -- et cetera until those are themselves proven. Saying It's my religious belief is nearly always a synonym for saying I'm a nutter.

By all means let us help those with learning difficulties. Jeremy Hunt is a case in point. Let him have the very best care for the rest of his life. But the idea that he should be able to reproduce or influence others is ridiculous. The man is not mentally viable.

The time is not right for reduction in the laws; but for their increase and strengthening. Post natal abortion is needed. All those with self-inflicted disability must be contained or preferably silenced but only under the law. They are a plague; and mine is really a modest proposal.

We do not need more babies. We do not need more fools. We do not need more opinions.


I chanced yesterday to hear the section on Radio 4, early evening, that section where Eddie Mair reads out the one liners that listeners send in.
It hardly ever interests me and I am rarely there to hear it.
There was however, yesterday, a long run of people outraged at the behaviour of parents with children -- their failure to control them, their inability to see the other person, their assumption that we are charmed by the products of their loins... their assumption that it is their own business though the rest of us are witnessing the learning process of aggressive sociopaths of many categories at the very least.
I fear it was voices crying in a wilderness.
I came into my least hated cafe a while back to find four of the tables near to electrical sockets blocked by by about half a dozen mid age sociopaths spreading out from tables in the centre. They were blocking all pathways and customers and staff were going round them. I needed the electrical sockets, one of them, and asked for assistance.
Tough shit, innit mate, said a cretin.
So I went round the long way. He watched me and clearly gained some pleasure from the process. I got to the now cramped space by the table, which was just enough, and began moving their luggage. I was told I had better watch it.
One went to the toilet and I moved my table to where it would have been, thereby reducing her imperial influence.
I was told that I resemble female genitals and I said that, in view of that opinion, I wished him luck with the opposite sex and hoped that he would soon lose his virginity.
I leave it open to my readers' considerations why so many who think that "cunt" is an appropriate insult to use of anyone get so upset if it is suggested they are virgins; the use of the word suggests to me extreme dislike and perhaps fear of women.
Once in a millinnium it might be true that they are virgins; mostly, and I must have used that line a dozen times in the last few years, it seems that to have actually had sexual intercourse is somehow a badge of honour.
It goes with the inability to think, I suppose.
Their subsequent threats were unpleasant, but my suggestion that the police be called and that we were probably on cctv (we are everywhere else) drew from them the opinion that the cafe stank and they were best off away from such a pathetic and ugly selfish little man as I -- the latter is a collage of several contributions.
I mention all this because they were replaced by a young and attractive woman who brought a coffee and two children to one of their tables; and the children spread out to fill the space vacated, as if reenacting those diagrame claiming to depict the difficusion of prehistoric races.
The coffee behaved like coffee, going cold rapidly and allowing itself to be drunk without resistance. The chiuldren behaved like a virulent disease. When she admonished them, looking up briefly from her iphone, one had a violent tantrum, hitting the floor and screaming; the other made no sound but hit her repeatedly. He did so rather hard. She showed her strength of character and continued using her phone is if neither of them existed, only leaving the cafe when she had finished her coffee at a civilised pace. What nice human beings those children will grow up to be.
To my right the people there are saying that the man being questioned in Aberystwyth on the supposed murder of a child should be charged because if he isn't guilty we are sure to find out.
So much to be grateful for.


The Mars Rover has its very first shit today. We hope to bring you live coverage in colour.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

National Poetry Day

anyway, what I wanted to say was

It's National Poetry Day everyone!

so shut up

[inane poems are permitted]

do as you're told

and piss off

Google wins "biggest contemporary wanker" award

I just had to log out of gmail in order to be shown the _new mail_ button on blogger

They don't say they're doing it. They just do it. Like crooks and spooks


The BBC seems to be having trouble with its tenses. "If the gap between the candidates narrows, it will be a huge boost for the Republican campaign - and suggests Romney could win the White House, writes Mark Mardell."
I was awake and heard this debate. Obama was drab. Romney was sparkling.
The trouble was that while Obama made a kind of mind-numbing sense, Romney was talking shit.
Whatever Obama said he denied it without argument or evidence.
I imagine another argument:
Romney: So you don't believe in God? Well then who made the sherbert fizz?
And the crowd looks impressed. Yes, they say, look; he can't answer that one. Romney's right, you know.

Wednesday, 3 October 2012


I really may have to abandon this blog and or go elsewhere.

Because a slime creature has blocked my email, I have obtained a gmail account which is doing as much as it can in its bureaucratic automatic way to take over my life. It's favourite trick is to deny me access to this blog, demanding that I adopt IT as my primary email.

Well, I am not sure that I want to. I feel very unhappy about getting into Google's sweaty bed too much.

Several times this morning gmail has announced oops there is an error on the server try again. Notice it's not their fault, but the server's. Other times I must have forgotten my password.


The problem is that they are insisting on taking over my life. There is no human available to whom I can turn.

So I plead the first amendment -- is that the right one? the freedom of speech one. I know I'm a Brit but USA has never doubted it's got authority over us. So.

I would like a blog without pushy hegemonic sales machines calling.

If this goes quiet for a long time and you are interested in what I have to say, do contact me. It may be that I have fallen into a coma; but it is just as likely I have been locked out or else given up because I am wasting hours of time.

To sum up the problem, I now disclose an abandoned password: googlewank

Monday, 1 October 2012

More email

My battle with alien invaders persists
I won't name it but some of you will know the institutional account I used to have
I still ought to have it
Unfortunately, one of its units of production either made a fundamental mistake or is covering for the one who did - or they're all stupid. Probably that one.
Unfortunately, I let this unit of production know just how invincibly ignorant I think they are
What has surprised me is that it seems everyone in the institution is scared to say anything or so it seems. I gave the fullest information to someone who has always seemed ok and they replied "I don't know anything about it". I said that they did and that was meant with silence
To hell with it
The one time I remember finding the now show at all funny was an evening when for reasons  I did not and do not understand they did bad french accents

but the line they repeated interminably was quote go and have sex with yourself in your own bottom

nowadays it has no effect upon me and I can't work out why it ever did

but I do have a desire to say it to some people

when I was losing my temper with the misnamed help desk I remembered whole swathes of Hitchhiker's Guide

particularly the section where he tries to leave a message for callers at a hotel reception whereupon they try to phone him and tell him he isn't in his room... the one thing my receptionist would not do is consider the possibility that there was anything wrong

today fighting internet explorer -- and you may well ask -- I thought there was something i still hadn't grasped

and then it camne to me

dealing with the help desk was like trying to reason with internet explorer

i decided to tell you that and tried to log in

before i did so it recognised me

when i logged in it said i had no blogs

that wasted half an hour

just now i had to publish this and then edit because it decided i had finished

... and earlier I visited a web site which google insisted is in German

I had told it before it is in English and it thanked me

but today...

there you have it, all systems and all consciousness are turning into bad software

and in order to cope people are having their brains erased so they can cope