24 Jul 2017

And Then, Take Your Pick...

The other evening I concluded that my only personal solution to the obvious madness that’s gripping the country was to surrender for my own mental wellbeing. However, looking at the latest lunacy from the government, that government being, unbelievably, a Conservative government, I’ve decided to rescind my capitulation and join in all the fun and games this new Pythonesque proposal and it’s resultant unintended consequences will no doubt unleash upon one and all of us. Why not? It is a joke, right? Oh, come on! It must be.

Anyhoo, on Saturdays I’m going to reassign myself as a high-flyin’, a-swoopin’ an’ a-divin’ seagull. It may well be me nicking your prawns. I also reserve my legal right to reassign as a duck on Sundays as I like the  colour of their cloths and they spend their time idling around on nice pools in nice villages. Mondays to Fridays I wish to be recognised, by my reassignment, as a farmhouse cat; good hunting, plentiful fresh milk, sleep when you want, outdoors in the shade from the warm summer sun  and, come winter, loaf about on a comfortable old rag-rug in front of a huge open kitchen fire for fur warming.

With this news from our ‘leaders’ it’s comforting to know that there’s nothing of any pressing importance, other than their obvious desire to lose ever more traditional Conservative votes,  that needs the governments undivided attention at this time. As for winning new votes, I really don’t think any of the millions of our newest, bestest ever friends will be on-board with regards to this idea at all. Quite the opposite I’d guess. Looks like a cunningly contrived double whammy then.

Compared to being young, suddenly finding you’re seventy is a bit of a bummer, but as I look around me, boy, am I ever glad I was seventeen way back in a bygone age. One also has to wonder what other madness is stalking us down this rocky road ready to railroad us into yet another new ‘belief’ system. I daren’t look - I’ll turn no more my head... a line a lot like that line comes, most fittingly, from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

Quote;  Samuel T. Coleridge.

Like one, that on a lonely road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round, walks on
And turns no more his head:
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

21 Jul 2017

And Then, App-Speak...

First up, when I turn on my ‘puter of a morning, my bit o’ the Net it starts with is Google News. Recently, Google have given it wot they call a re-vamp. This re-vamp has, for me, killed a perfectly usable gateway for an easily browsed quick-fix for UK and world news. Upon searching for a way to return to, what us Google News users now call the classic view, it seems there’s no way back. Yet. During my search it also became apparent that I’m not alone in looking for  a bit o’ backwards progress.

Talking of that, in amongst the Google News headlines this morning was the techno babble beauty below. As they say, there’s an App for that. 
   London-based transport app Citymapper has announced its next product: A social hyper-local multi-passenger pooled vehicle. Using  “geo-matching technology” to route vehicles in a way which optimizes boarding while minimising waiting times, the firm hopes to enable efficient ETAs for passengers with varied demographics.
Helpfully, the firm has also provided a translation of its Silicon Valley-speak: it’s a bus...

Is that just the App developers having a giraffe? If so, it’s a beauty. If not, we really are doomed.

In other news, I saw the clip showing that poor Diane Abbott being interviewed and, yet again, struggling with that stuff to do with numbers. The bit wot I’ve copied and pasted below was lurking way down in the comments.
Diane Abbott was asked if she’d studied Algebra at school.
"No", she replied "I never had any intention of traveling there."

Quote;  Johnny Depp.

“The only gossip I'm interested in is things from the Weekly World News - 'Woman's bra bursts; 11 injured'. That kind of thing.”

18 Jul 2017

And Then It Rolls On...

Right, I give up. I bet you thought the ‘banning’ of the use of ladies and gentlemen was something thought up by the lunatic fringe, they’d got wot they wanted and they’d finally flounced off stage right, right? Sadly, but not entirely surprisingly, they’re back for another slice.

While drinking my first coffee this AM and scanning the news, it seems the insane have got the taste for winning and are at it again. The head hurting headline runs like this:
Advertising Standards to get tough on gender stereotypes.
Read the clip below for a taster then, if you dare, click above to read the whole sorry story and try not to dissolve into fits of hysterics. Or despondency.

   The review suggested that new standards should consider whether the stereotypes shown would "reinforce assumptions that adversely limit how people see themselves and how others see them.”
   Portrayals which reinforce outdated and stereotypical views on gender roles in society can play their part in driving unfair outcomes for people," said chief executive of the ASA, Guy Parker.
   While advertising is only one of many factors that contribute to unequal gender outcomes, tougher advertising standards can play an important role in tackling inequalities and improving outcomes for individuals, the economy and society as a whole.

And what the hell does any of that even mean? Is nothing to be left untainted by these utter nutters? Man, it must be sad to see the world and life through their eyes. Why can’t these ‘equality’, or whatever, folk just accept wot they are, wot they’ve got and just enjoy their lives and let the rest of us enjoy our ride through life as well? Please, stop chasing shadows; just enjoy the ride. Trust me, all you young, ‘It’s all about me, me, me!’ folk, it’s not a long ride.

Then I remembered a TV interview from last night with the ‘journalist’ interviewing a lady regarding that other hyper expensive boon-dongle, HS2. The interviewer, talking to the lady, stated, “Your husband’s a farmer...” and continued, for those unfamiliar with the word ‘farmer’, “...who works on a farm.” 
The lady later said, “It’s disgusting the way we’ve been tret.”  Say what now? Tret? Is that even a word? Yes, indeed it is;   An allowance of extra weight made to purchasers of certain goods to compensate for waste during transportation. Well, that doesn’t work does it? How about the Yorkshire slang angle?
To have treated yourself.  Does that fit? Nope, not really. ‘Tret’? ‘Treated’ would’ve worked just fine. And the ladies job is? Yup, a primary school teacher...

See? It all starts to fall into place but I’m going to give it all no never mind as I’m throwing in the towel and desperately looking for a phone number I can call so I can  offer up my unconditional surrender. As I stated at the beginning of this piece, up is wot I be giving.

Quote;  Hans Christian Andersen.

“Enjoy life. There's plenty of time to be dead.”

17 Jul 2017

And Then He’s Free...

I woke this morning, always a plus, meandered down the stairs, fired up the coffee maker and opened the kitchen door to the outside world to allow the air used yesterday to be replaced with new a intake for today.

As I turned back to the coffee maker I spotted a not overly small spider who also appeared to be having an early morning meander. Dose he want a coffee?

Wot to do? Stamp on him or scoop him up and liberate him in the garden? The scooping option would entail bending down which is always something to avoid when you get to an age, and as my head was just normalising after pulling on my socks, the stamping option seemed good.

Hang on a foot flouncing moment. Stamping would mean bending down to clean up and I guess he’s got as much right to be hear as I have, I went into scooping mode which, with the promise of fresh coffee as a reward, went dizzyingly well. This was aided by the spider just walking onto my proffered palm in that trusting way only old dogs and spiders exhibit.

After carefully and cleverly closing my hand over the guy, I walked down the garden and liberated him amongst some pleasant foliage and headed back to get my first caffeine hit of the day.

It was then I thought that the spider may well be a house fellow, him being in the house an’ all, and thus not best suited to suddenly finding himself in a jungle. With this in mind, I quickly closed the outside door so’s he couldn’t get back in the house.

Later, whilst sipping caffeine hit two, I gave this some further thought. What had I just done? I’d actually closed a door so a spider couldn’t get back in the house? I’d actually done that? Am I nuts? For those of you struggling to think of the answer to that question, the word you’re looking for is three letters and starts with a ‘Y’ and as it’s a stand alone word needing no further qualifying, use a big ‘Y’ and not one where the tail hangs down below the line.

After completing caffeine intake number two – or was that three? - I silently gazed out the window and wondered wot further adventures the day would proffer. Man, who knew this retirement  thingy was going to be so exciting?

Quote;  Dave Barry.

“Spiders so large they appear to be wearing the pelts of small mammals.”