Then and now

A conversation between Foreign Johnny and Our Great Leader

THEN: Mein Luftkissenfahrzeug ist von den Aalen voll. Fuck you. You invade Poland and your arse is in a sling.

NOW: Mon aéroglisseur est plein des anguilles. Of course, of course. How much do you want?

A question for the Cons

As it is apparent that Mr "Call Me" Dave Cameron is not capable of beating a one-legged cripple in an arse-kicking contest, I wonder if anyone has any ideas on whether or not there is someone lurking in the wings to take over?

I suggest that, unless the present incumbents, and I emphasise the bents, in our illustrious snout-troughing corporation get a severe trouncing, the rest of CMD's party faithful will be looking seriously at trying another chap/chapess. Or another party altogether.

FFS.

May I suggest to them that they do it right now? It won't be any worse, I promise.

Precis

Precis: summarising, in a shorter form. This is a precis of the other bloggers blogs as I read them today. However, I stole it. It is actually from a book known as the bible which, even if you don't go in for all that malarkey, has quite a bit of good stuff in it. It is from the book of Ecclesiastes, in the old testament (which is the bit in B.C. as opposed to A.D.), and I can't be arsed to look up the spelling so if it's wrong, I don't care. It goes like this (I've missed out verse 1):

 2 "Meaningless! Meaningless!" 
       "Utterly meaningless! 
       Everything is meaningless."


 3 What does man gain from all his labour 
       at which he toils under the sun?


 4 Generations come and generations go, 
       but the earth remains forever.


 5 The sun rises and the sun sets, 
       and hurries back to where it rises.


 6 The wind blows to the south 
       and turns to the north; 
       round and round it goes, 
       ever returning on its course.


 7 All streams flow into the sea, 
       yet the sea is never full. 
       To the place the streams come from, 
       there they return again.


 8 All things are wearisome, 
       more than one can say. 
       The eye never has enough of seeing, 
       nor the ear its fill of hearing.


 9 What has been will be again, 
       what has been done will be done again; 
       there is nothing new under the sun.


 10 Is there anything of which one can say, 
       "Look! This is something new"? 
       It was here already, long ago; 
       it was here before our time.


 11 There is no remembrance of men of old, 
       and even those who are yet to come 
       will not be remembered.

Good, innit?

What it is says is that it's all shit. Same shit, different pile.

It was written by a bloke who was what we'd now recognise as a philosopher. He was probably a minor King at the time and probably wore sandals and a white frock. He clearly suffered from clinical depression or had a bad day at the office, or a grand hangover, or something.

He suggests that nothing you can do will make anything any better so you might just as well accept it. It isn't for long, in the grand scheme of things. You will die, and it will all be over.

We have a more modern saying, which is much shorter than Mr Ecclesiastes' tome, which goes thus:

                "Life is shit. Then you die."

I have a better one:

                "If life is shit, do something about it. You'll die anyway, might as well take some of the other fuckers with you."

So, you bloggers, I agree with you. Anyone would think that Gordoron and Camerown were one and the same person, or that they have some sort of agreement that they won't have a majority of more than fiver percent, and the other lot (e.g. Lord Rantzen of Liberty) have tacitly agreed not to interfere. That's what it looks like from where I sit, on this giraffe.

That's where the agreement stops though. Yes, you can vote for Gororon or Camerown or even Lord and Lady Questions Will be Asked of Balderdash. It won't make a blind bit of difference. You know that. You blog that. And you're right. And you'll die. And it'll all be over.

I have kids. I don't want to leave this shit to them. I refuse to leave this shit to them. They deserve better.

At the risk of offending anyone, may I point out that none of the things you propose to do, such as going and putting an "X" on a bit of paper somewhere, drawing a cock and balls on the paper, writing "none of the above", lobbying your MP/MP's dog/children, demonstrating, reminding them of what Mr Cromwell said once, etc will do FUCK ALL.

Do you know why I know this? I know this because all of these mechanisms have been put into place by these offensive, self-gratifying leeches grazing on the arse of humanity, so that they can know what you're going to do, expect what you're going to do, and ignore what you're going to do.

My suggestion is, in a French-stylee, to write "NON" on a splintered axe-handle and insert it, blunt end first, up their respective bottoms.

I'm up for it. Seemed to work for Edward II, although I suppose things have moved on since 1327.

Oh, and BTW, while I mention this bible thing, there is a bit in it that says that chaps shouldn't put their tackle up other chaps' bottoms, too. But it doesn't mention axe-handles.

I'm not always right

This is something about which I am wrong.

I know I am, because everybody tells me that I am. So I am. Wrong.

I do not think that the government has any rights to me, nor anything I have. Any at all. I'm not talking about FMOTLship or anything like that, I just think that because a few million peeps are going to vote for one lot or another, that I have to go along with it in any way, shape or form.

It seems to me that, every since I was a young Marvo, there were two lots of "them". They were posh "them", who were Conservatives, and working "them", who were Labour. About half the people who bothered to vote at all voted for one lot, and about half for the other. Every now and again the lot that were in did something really unpopular and then a lot more people voted for the ones who were not in, who were then in. Sounds like a definition of the game of cricket for foreigners.

This is the first instance that I can remember in my long and illustrious life where the lot that are in have done quite a lot of really stupid, really unpopular things, and still have a fighting chance of getting back in, or at least not facing an ignominious and convincing defeat.

There are only two reasons I can think of for this, and they are these:

Reason 1 - the other lot are a crock as well. I think this might be the case, but at least they can't possibly be as unpopular as the lot that are in.

Reason 2 - this one scares me. It is only me that thinks that the lot that are in have done some pretty obnoxious, stupid and unpopular things. Me and a handful of others.

That is why I think, and secretly know, that they have no rights to me. I despise them. I disagree with their world vision. I disagree with just about everything they say or do, I hate the way they lie, I abhor the way everything is bent to suit them. I actually feel physically sick when I see or hear some of them talking absolute codswallop and I realise that there are people so blind, so stupid, that they can't see through this..

It might be something to do with the fact that it has just been announced that my job is being outsourced to the Czech Republic. But I don't think so. It has been in my mind for a long while.

Am I wrong?

Will some of you come and visit me in gaol? I hope so. Bring cake. I like cake. Among my favourites are Battenburg, any sort of almondy cake, Jamaica ginger cake, that kind of thing.

Why?

Well done CMD.

http://www.paddypower.com/bet/other-politics/uk-politics?ev_oc_grp_ids=64933

Yesterday that was 1/12 and 6/1 respectively.

A little while ago it was 1/14 and 7/1.

What has changed since the last estimates is that The Clown has been declared a bully, and CMD has responded by declaring that he'll probably kill a fox.

If I ever need fight I can't lose, I shall certainly choose him as an opponent.

The Conservatives will win, with a tiny majority, despite CMD. Good God.

I am right.

I'll varnish my front door any way I like

http://smokefree.nhs.uk/quit-tools/quit-kit/

Why have I got a leaflet through my front door offering this codswallop?

Bearing in mind that if I have, then everyone else has. There can't be a smoker's database, can there?

Cunts.

I would DEARLY love to know how much this lot cost. Any ideas?

Lawyers

http://www.labour.org.uk/future-fair-for-all

Nobody, but NOBODY, would have written any of the quotes on that page. Not unless they were the victims of fearsome torture, the like of which I can't begin to imagine, or a bit fat bribe.

Are they actually allowed to publish shite like that?

"I want to stand behind Gordon Brown 100% and give him my support." NHS
"My children depend on me joining the Labour Party." Parents
"Superbly led by Gordon Brown." Teachers
"Helping pensioners and old age people and disabled people like me." Pensioners
"Only the Labour Party holds student views in mind." Students

Complete cock. NOBODY said any of those things, NOBODY.

I feel sick.

Is there a lawyer in the house?

Old Marvo's Almanac

Here is a prediction. I am not clever enough to fake the date on a blog, so I'm posting it now, so when it all comes true you can go "Yay!  Marvo was right."

Here is the statutory disclaimer: this prediciton will not come true if something drastic changes, such as a nuclear war, assassination or suchlike.

But otherwise, this what will happen.

There will be a general election. It might be in May, and probably will be, but could be a bit earlier.

At that general election, more people than normal will turn out.

The result of the election will be that the Conservatives will win, by a very small amount. Labour will come a close second. The Lib Dems will come third and they will be followed, a long way back, by UKIP. The BNP will gain seats.

That is the easy bit. It will be a silly little victory for the Conservatives, and a defeat for commonsense and democracy.

The bit that will be hard to swallow is that our Fuhrer will then be deposed by his own people, led by Mandebum, because the only reason they've let him stay in is because if they try to front it with anyone else now they will look as though they're in a pickle. And the Fuhrer will have got away with it, scot free, and will go down in the annals of history as a just bit of an arse.

We will remain in Europe and the EU will become all-powerful. I will die sometime and be glad to get out. I will never forgive myself for leaving this shit to the kids.

You know, this could all be very different. But it won't be. There isn't time. There isn't the opposition.

I'm sorry that this is so bleak for a snowy Monday.

A very big house

When I was a young Marvo, my dad rented a house. This is because we didn't get lots of money. Then, eventually, when he was lucky and got a better job, he bought a house. We called it home. The idea of buying this house was so Dad could do stuff with it, like build bits and put in things he wanted. Eventually he sold it and retired because he was getting old, and he made a few bob on it, because of inflation, and he bought a smaller one way down west, and had a few bob left to spend.

I told Dad that if he scrimped and saved any money he had so he could leave it to me when he died, that I would give it to a cats' home. So he spent it on things he wanted, which no doubt the other Marvos will argue about when he's gone. I don't give a stuff.

I have heard, more and more, people referring to their home as a "property". It's not. It's home. It's where you live. Any other use of a house is just one more road to hell, in a handcart.

"Has Marvo gone mad?" I hear you ask?

Now, I'm reading you bloggers, I'm agreeing with a lot of what you say. I'm disagreeing with some of it too. Now it's your turn to disagree with me. I know you will. I know what you'll say. You'll say "Hold on, I've worked for my house. Why should I let it go when other people didn't work for one?"

Welcome to religion.

Anyone got the balls to argue?

You owe me

I would like to go to work, earn some money, spend it all on a house, a very big house, in the country.

Then I'd like to get very old. Very, very old. So old, in fact, that nothing works any more. And then, if that's all right with you, I'd like you to pay for me to have someone round every day to mow my big lawn, and do all the other gardening, and if you could see your way clear, they should cook all my meals as well, and put me to bed.

I could probably sell my very big house in the country, and pay for this myself, and have a lot of change, but I want to leave the very big house to my kids, so they can buy themselves a big house too.

Oh, and I don't want you to pay the going rate for these luxuries. I want the state to organise it for me, so it will cost lots of times more than that, please.

Thank you.

What? Unreasonable? No, can't be.

Is it?

I think so. But it happens. Who is wrong, me or everyone else?

Economics is bollocks, isn't it?

Economics is apparently a social science. Wiki says so, so it must be true.

I don't think it works. Science, traditionally, is something which has a method for determining facts. Social science is a means of predicting what something will probably do. It has to be based on a number of factors, including what people will do, which is unpredictable in the extreme, and history, which usually repeats itself.

It seems to me that a person with no training in this black art has a better chance of knowing what will happen than the person trained in it.

The reason for my supposition is merely that I, and many others, knew a long time ago that if you base a socio-economic system upon the premise that tomorrow it will all be lovely, when you can see that it is actually going down the toilet, then it will all turn to ratshit. Which it has, so QED etc.

The reason for my thinking that the training isn't helping is that people can get degrees in politics (Millipede has two, for example) by learning from people who have never done any of it.

I know a lot about this from other areas. I know, for instance, that someone who comes to us from "Uni" with a relevant degree is going to be very disappointed to find that they will have to unlearn all the bollocks they've been taught before we can start to make them useful. And that is sad.

Frank Davis in his blog today has written an excellent piece, well worth reading, about "us and them". He makes the point, and better than I could, that each of us is a small member of a bigger whole, but each has specific needs, ambitions, etc. Were this not the case, life would be dull.

The statist mob that control and rule us, you know, the ones who "work for us", need us all to do and be the same. They try. But they can't make us want the same, or like the same.

Take fox hunting. I don't really give a bollocks. I go with Bill Bailey who says that he doesn't really have a problem with the fox thing, but really has a problem with chaps dressing up in pink and going "Tally-Ho". But I really don't give a toss, although I think foxes are more doggy than ratty. What I do care about is freedom of choice.

There are those who will now vote for New Fail again because CMD has said he'll have a referendum on foxy loxy. A lot more people than those who will vote CMD for the right to wear pink and go "Tally-Ho". And I strongly suspect that people will not vote CMD solely because they want freedom of choice, because they know that the EU, for example, is a lost cause there. And they won't vote for Lord Wotsit of Thing either because they don't know who he is and they don't know whether he likes foxes. They will suspect that he does like hunting because he's a Lord.

But I know that the statists up there actually don't care either way about foxy loxy. They don't. And they think, because they're told to think by "advisors" who are being paid for by us, that if they say a certain thing then people will vote for them. That's all they care about.

I think the advisors are wrong. I know they are. This is why:

I don't think like you do. I might think some things like you do, I might like some things like you do. There will be things that I like that you don't, and vice versa.

That's why economics is bollocks. It relies on people doing what a very few people assume they will do.

And that's why we're in such a pile of financial shit. I don't think the next lot, whoever they are, will do better, because they believe in Keynesian macroeconomics or some such bollocks. And it doesn't work. It never will.

I wish I had a solution, but I don't. Nobody does. They will try this way, that way, the other way. When it looks good, and it often does, they will say "Yay! We have solved the problem." The problem always solves itself though, people do what people do. And then people get greedy, and it goes to ratshit again, and out they go, and in come the next lot, and it goes on. And on.

And so do I.

It is the weekend.

Britain is furious

The Millipede is apparently furious because some very naughty boys have been playing silly buggers with someone elses passports.

He says that it is an "outrage", which actually is quite a big word for him.

The Millipede says that he "hopes and expects" that Tel Aviv will co-operate fully with the investigation announced by The Clown. Blimey, the Mossad must be crapping themselves.

He also said that "the integrity of our system is critical".

Let me explain a couple of simple things.

1. The only person likely to have any difficulty getting a British passport is a Briton.
2. I am guessing here, but I would suggest that most, if not all, of the Mossad speak fluent English.
3. I am guessing here, but I would suggest that one, if not both, of the abovementioned chaps speak not a word of Israeli.
4. I would not trust the two abovementioned chaps to find either of their arses with both hands.

If you want to sort out the integrity of your system, try talking to the kind of people who are naughty boys for a living, or who might have some experience of this. Suggestions include:

• The Mossad
• The last lot of immigrants who shouldn't have got in.
• Most pikeys.
• Half the population of HM Prison Service.
• Anyone who runs a Cruise Ship.
• A bunch of schoolkids.

And a few people to avoid:

• A University Research Unit
• Anyone in the Civil Service
• Me

HTH.

Don't try to be clever. These people have to get up early to practise thinking as slowly as you.

Anyway, what's it got to do with either of you? One of you is Scottish and the other one's a Belgian.

Spirit of the Blitz

I work in a once-thriving area of England which has degenerated, over the past few years, into a shithole. It is a rural community with a few town centres and was the hub of several sectors of industry, the last of which emigrated to Malaysia a couple of years ago in the name of Globalisation.

It is not a good idea to go into the towns at night, because they are ruled by yobs and chavs. The pubs' doors are locked and you have to ring a bell to get in - this is to stop the pikeys getting in and thus drinking the place dry with their ill-gotten gains before wrecking it and scaring away the rest of the customers. Because it isn't actually illegal to go into a pub and drink it dry, the Old Bill can't do anything about it. It is illegal to wreck the pub, but by the time OB turn up, the pikeys have done a runner. The OB know where they are but won't go there, and I don't blame them.

So here is a community which is largely scared to leave the house after dark, with a huge unemployment problem and very little hope.

Last night I went to one of the smaller towns, because I was late leaving work, so I picked up a Chinese Takeaway (which was rather good, actually) and, whilst waiting for it, went into the pub next door. I have been to this pub before but not for a few years.

Pubs in these areas go very quiet when you go into them. People turn and look at you, and stop talking in case you are from "the authorities". And if you attempt to strike up some sort of conversation they accuse you of earwigging (a term which I believe means to eavesdrop) and can become quite violent. But it has changed. Noticeably. Drastically, in fact.

In the war (the proper one, not the political journalism-run ones we have now) there were The Germans. All were bad and evil and said "Raus" and "Schnell". I know this, because I used to read comics when I was a young Marvo. But they were the Common Enemy. And us Brits rally when there is a common enemy.

I wasn't there. My Dad, Great-Uncle Marvo was though, and my Grandad, Great-Great-Uncle Marvo. My Uncle, also named Marvo, was killed in it, by the bad, evil Germans. I'm sure he didn't particularly want to be. And I'm fucking sure he didn't go and fight The Germans because he wanted a world like the one we now live in, where we're ruled by them and The French, and where we're not allowed to sing Rule Brittania. So that was a waste.

I now know some Germans. I've worked in France. I like some Germans very much, and I even like some of The French. They are not the enemy.

I'll tell you who the enemy is, because last night, in this pub, the Spirit was back, with a vengeance. The Brits are rallying again. And they know their enemy.

It is called The Government. It is called New Labour. It is called The Banks.

According to the pubulation, they are "lying shitbags", "fuckers", and many other things, none of which I would regard as complimentary. The Glorious Leader's unfortunate child episode is seen as God-given retribution, so that won't work either. Posters are a waste of time.

The real people know their enemy. They don't give a monkey's which lot they are, either. Anyone knocking on doors asking for a vote is more than likely to be at the business end of a baseball bat in very short order.

These people need a leader. I am not one.

I'll tell you this - if these people don't get a better option, they will vote Nazi. That is a fact.

Where is the leader? They know who Nick Griffin is, because he's a loud-mouthed one-eyed loony, and at least he's got some neck. Ask them who the leader of UKIP is. You'll get some pretty vacant looks.

Who actually is it, anyway? I thought his name was Nigel, but apparently it's Lord. Either way, these people, real people, ordinary people, the silent majority, don't know either.

UKIP - get your fucking act together, why don't you?

Please feel free to get whoever it is that runs the show to read this, thank you.

Full Body Spanner

While I'm on the subject of brilliant ideas, here is one which was brought to my attention by a chap in the antipodes.

Instead of a body scanner, design a machine into which you walk after the airport check-in, which detonates any explosive devices you may have about your person.

No racial profiling! No more expensive trials! No health issues (well, for the innocent, anyway).

My pencil and paper are at the ready.

4x4

How stupid is this ill-thought-out idea? The number four is used arbitrarily here, only because 5x5 wouldn't attract much attention. I'd like to say it was calculated on the basis of something, but that would be bollocks. It came to me in a dream, or whatever the equivalent of that is when you're loaded with Stella. Perhaps state of delirium would be a better description.

Here I go. The "levels" are described in Roman Numerals to try to get rid of any connotation of the low numbers being in any way superior to the high ones.

Level I has four people.

Each of those four people has four people, on level II, connecting to them.

Of those four people, each has a further four people, on level III, connecting to them, and so on.

A gifted mathematician such as I (ROFL) would conclude that, for every level, the number of people involved would be increased by the number on the now "bottom" level multiplied by that arbitrary four.

Once you get to the level XI, there are five and a half million people involved. Actually 5,592,404, just to show I've worked it out.

There are several things you can do with this number of people when they're all involved.

One is to charge them all a pound and tell them they can have a share of the rest and thus they will all become rich. This is, sadly, illegal, because it is a good way of getting very rich, very quickly. There was such a scheme, called the Circle of Gold, sometime in the eighties (as I remember), started by the City, and finished quite quickly. That shows how clever/honest the bankers were then.

Another is to create a product, like fake perfume, and sell it via this route. This is not illegal as such but probably should be. Amway do it. They also use clever psychological tricks to rope people in, such as their slogan "without Amway there is no hope/future/afterlife (delete whichever options don't work for you)".

Another would be to start a revolution, wherein there are four people (the arbitrary four) at the top, and these would be able to direct the ones underneath and make a right old rumpus before the black helicopters had any idea what was going on.

Here's the stupid idea though - call the four at the top "the Prime Ministers", then all of the next levels up to level IV "Parliament" (that's a total of 340, which is quite enough), then the seven levels from level V to level XI "Anyone who has even a remote interest in how the country is run". That leaves about 55,000,000 people (call them, for the sake of argument, "Children, the clinically insane, and people who are happy to watch Strictly Come Dancing").

I think it would work. I even have a name for it - I'd call it "Democracy".

I know, I know. It needs some thought. Like how the Fab Four get to the top. And how you get them down again if they succumb to the power bug. Although the weight of those five and a half million decision makers would probably be a good start.

Is it bollocks? I know loads of people who think so. I also know loads who don't. And sadly, I know millions who don't care.

I do know, truly, that unless something as drastic as this happens, my country will be governed by someone I don't want.

And I know also that I want to be somewhere between levels V and XI.

Anyone up for the Fab Four? Anyone think of a good use for a couple of redundant houses in Downing Street, London?

An amateur chemist's guide to footshots

As I have claimed previously, I have an O level in chemistry, and a first class hours degree in bullshit.

I have undertaken some research using some household chemicals, some not-so-household chemicals, and a handy mass-spectrophotometer and NIR infralyser which we just happen to have at work. Please don't tell them I've been using it, I'd probably get told off, and that would be really scary as I am a quiet, unassuming kind of a guy whose feelings are easily hurt.

Told you about the bullshit, didn't I?

Anyway, I have performed this experiment. I shall see if I can remember how you write up experiments. It will, on initial glance, appear to be very boring, but please stick with it.

I guarantee that the conclusion will be worth it.

---

Aim:

To establish whether certain compounds can be absorbed and subsequently redistributed into the environment by the application of Nitrous Acid (HNO2) in its various states and morphisms.

Hypothesis:

That certain substances, such as nicotine, can be taken up (sorbed) by Nitrous Acid and then released later into the atmosphere. I think they can.

Method:

Take some Nitrous Acid, then apply it to said compound (nicotine). Let the Nitrous Acid (HNO2) decompose into Nitrogen Dioxide (NO2), Nitrous Oxide (N2O), and Water (H2O) and measure the residual compound with a spectrophotometer, checking this result against the measurement from a Near InfraRed (NIR) analyser.

Results:

Whoopee Doo! There was nicotine left.

Conclusion:

When you get some nicotine and use Nitrous Acid to "unstick" (desorb) it from its natural surrounding, and the Nitrous Acid subsequently decomposes, the nicotine is released into the environment.

Nitrous Acid is naturally present in the ozone budget of the troposphere. It follows therefore that in small concentrations it occurs at ground level at standard atmosphere temperatures and pressures (1013.2 hectopascals, 0 - 30 degrees C). Nitrous Acid is very unstable, especially in its CIS form, thus nicotine which might be on curtains, furniture etc would be redistributed into the environment at the drop of a Chemical Hat, for instance when it gets damp.

Nicotine is a very dangerous drug.

The nicotine used in this experiment was found in very large quantities in Nicorette tablets and patches. I propose that such substances be banned from sale in the U.K. as the "secondhand" nicotine from them can, and will, be released into the house/car/aircraft/hospital where these products are being used.

Perhaps someone would like to run with it? I don't mind fighting governments, but I've heard some scary stories about people who get caught messing with multi-trillion dollar business with no morals.

Ban The Man

I see, courtesy of Tory Totty Online, that Ms Harperson has now boldly gone behind the bid to ban the term "chairman" for being sexist.

I'm old enough, and dragged up enough, to expect to hold the door open for a lady. Me being a chap, and all that, it's what I expect. And I expect to give up my seat to a lady as well if there's a spare seat and the lady in question hasn't got the look of a bulldog chewing a wasp.

I have done these things, though, and been treated to the most disgusted of looks. Looks that say "You're no better than me" and ask "What, do I look pregnant to you?"

I am also not sexist. I work in a fairly male-dominated environment because, for some reason, the kind of people who work the kind of huge plant in which I work tend to be big hairy blokes. But there are ladies too. Some are big hairy ladies, some are quite stylish ladies. The ladies tend to do what I would see as lady jobs, these being Elfin Safety and Administrative things. But then one of the ladies deals with the manly jobs such as transport, and one deals with the anger of truckers who grace our portals for about 18 hours of the day and, although she is one of the more stylish ladies, I wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of an argument with her.

We don't have many indigenous idiots here. We have plenty who hail from what they call the "central function", this being the empire from which all things come. And, actually, all but one of the idiots in my circle of acquaintance are men. Only one is a lady. A stylish lady at that, though an idiot nevertheless.

We also have reps, with whom we have to deal. Some are rubbish and we try to feign absence when they come. Some are good. Some are even better because they bring gifts of coffee mugs and calculators and Swiss army knives and even small tool kits, which we like. These latter ones comprise of two ladies. Most of the good are ladies. One of the good is a chap. All the rubbish ones are chaps.

We have to go to some meetings, even though these are a waste of time, as are all meetings which aren't held in a pub. The meetings have chairpeople - sometimes men, sometimes ladies. I try to avoid the meetings where the chairman is a man. The ladies seem to do it better. I don't know why, but I know that it is true.

Now, Ms Harperson, may I be the first one to point out that what you are backing here is an utter, uncompromised pile of cack? Thank you.

I'd also like to point out, as an aside, that ladies are a different sex from men. I know it is hard to believe. But yes, they really are. And they tend to be better at some things than men. And vice-versa.

Live with it, bitch.

One, two, three, die.

Smoking kills. Smoking kills someone else. People will die horribly if they go anywhere near anywhere a smoker has ever been. The Beeb ran it as well, so it must be true. And also Berkeley Labs, which is actually the US Government Department of Energy, Climate Change, Scaremongering and Finding Excuses To Raise More Tax.

Tomorrow's news may be that people will die of asphyxiation because they watch someone else smoke on the telly.

But surely there is no smoke without fire? Surely no real scientist would be researching something and publishing results unless there was a real danger?

Correct. There was a real danger that a certain Hugo Destaillats, a chap with a PhD from Buenos Bloody Aires in 1988 and who has pursued a career in research in Californian Universities ever since, had run out of grantworthy research to do.

Stay with me here. This is research, and research is dull. I just want to make sure I'm not making this up, so I've linked all the references I can.

But then he discovered the mother lode. The Tobacco-Related Disease Research Program, or TRDRP

This is an organisation, in California (luckily for our Hugo), which is funded by the Cigarette and Tobacco Products Surplus Fund, or tax (see page 4, "Program Administration") of 25 cents per packet specifically creamed off for this purpose.

On page 36 of that document the name Hugo Destaillats can be found, again, in the natty piece of research entitled "Reactivity of Surface Nicotine Towards Indoor Ozone". As the proud holder of an O level in chemistry and a degree in bullshit, I would like to offer my translation of that research project as follow:

"When you get someone to smoke in a house the smoke sticks on the walls, and eventually it unsticks so it could end up inside another person."

No shit, Sherlock. How much did that cost? And who paid for it? Oh yes, the people whose pleasures you're trying to take away from them.

Not happy with that one, though, he tries again. I assume that this will be in the 2009/10 report. And I dare say there'll be yet another, in 2011, 2012, ...

I wonder what this geek looks like?

This. Surprised? I wouldn't have had Groucho down for something as daft as this. All the Marx brothers films I've seen have been plausible.

Did I mention that this bloke works for the government? Yes, I thought so.

Hat tips: The excellent Leg-Iron and Mr Bite

Nine Bananas

I hate blogs full of references. Hate them. Makes them so difficult to read.

So here is one.

The Constitutional Reform Bill (not to be confused with the Constitutional Reform and Governance Bill) is up for business in Parliament.

Captain Ranty does this better than I could. Worth a read. But I think I might have drawn his attention to it, and then again Mr Clock might have (see Blogroll, over there on the left). Either way, I maintain that I dredged it up on my daily read of "Bills going through Parliament". So there.

It's Good Stuff. UKIP's Lordlings Pearson (that's not Molesworth I's grate frend - it's the leader of UKIP) and Willougby de Broke (I know, I know) are quoted; Pearson spoke rather well, as did Lord de Broke (whose Bill it is).

As Lord Pearson puts it, very simply, it advocates getting out of the EU and having referendums on important issues. Binding referendums.

And I think it needs to be so. It needs to happen before the EUists implement the Atlantic Region and the North Sea Region, thus making East Anglia part of Denmark and the Isle of Man part of Cornwall. It needs to happen before the General Election.

It needs to happen soon.

However, it contains stuff that no politician, especially an MP, is going to go for.

Stuff like £30K salary (albeit with huge expenses) [8.1]. But then allow them to earn money elsewhere [8.4]. That won't make for much time being spent running the country. And it won't get this Bill many votes either.

Stuff like local authorities being able to legislate on just about anything [10.1]. Then them being able to tax you as well [12.2g], although this will make the housing market start to move. The Control Freaks won't like this bit. However the two MPs left who aren't Control Freaks, these being our Lordlings, will.

All in all, though, there are lots of bits in this bill that are wonderful, to me. Libertarian stuff. Sensible stuff.

That's why it won't get off the starting blocks, even though it's been "discussed". We'll see. If it does, I'll be both amazed and delighted, since it is nothing but bad news for Nu Lab.

Perhaps the Clown will then find another habit. As the great Guthrum ejaculated earlier, we've descended to the level of a banana republic.

I'm not sure that's what he meant.

Something for the weekend

I haven't any idea what this means.

http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm200910/cmbills/048/10048.i-i.html

I expect I could work it out. But not until Monday, because I shall be away from reality until then.

So, if some kind, learned soul would care to wade through the very few paragraphs of cock therein, and would like to leave a little comment along the lines of "Good Thing" or "Bad Thing", then please do so.

Then I will be able to know what it is about. Or not.

Why do they make these things so complicated? Legal Beagles tell me that it is so that everything is unabiguous. I think that their sesquipedaliansim is to prevent the poor chap on the Clapham Omnibus getting further than the first sentence.

ITWSBT.

Today I saw a footprint on the beach

"Sunshine and Bunnies"

I am delighted to be able to report today that a major hurdle has been overcome in the fight for commonsense, justice and freedom.

David Cameron said today that if he is elected he will stand by each and every one of his manifesto promises, all of which have a GANTT chart published explaining who is to do what, when, and how much it will cost.

He promises a referendum on Europe, as well as promising to cut a swathe through the army of unnecessary public servants who are soaking up the taxpayers' hard-earned cash whilst merely increasing red tape and reducing the unemployment figure to make the government look good.

He said in a statement that in the event of any these promises coming to nothing he will cut off one of his limbs and stick it on a spike outside Downing Street.

Actually, this is all bollocks. He didn't say anything of the sort. Nor will he. Nor will Brown. Nor will Clegg, nor any of the others including the Nazi Party.

So this isn't going to work, is it?

No.

I shall instead continue to try to draw attention to the ridiculous things that New Labour have done in the last twelve years, and the fact that it isn't going to get any better unless a few million people crawl out from under the TV and start to do something about it.

If I offend someone in the process, so be it.

If that person is someone whose opinion I have come to respect, I ask only that that person tries to understand mine.

Some people are homophobic ...

GET OVER IT.

I am utterly fed up with everything being shoved in my face. There's another huge red sign up on the hoarding round the corner, from Stonewall, saying in big letters that some people are gay. And then saying in letters just as big that I should get over it. I wasn't under it to start with.

Some people are gay. I know they are glad to be gay, because Tom Robinson sang so. I don't really give a toss, even if George Michael does, whether they're gay or not; I'm just glad my parents weren't because, had they been, I wouldn't be here.

Some people are football supporters. I'm not.

Some people like "Britain's got Talent" and "Strictly". I've never seen either and nor do I wish to.

I don't think that I largely like football supporters. I except, maybe, my mate Dominic who was born a generation after me and supports some football team or other. I don't know which one, so I don't think he's an activist or a fanatic.

I don't think that I largely like people who are fans of "Britain's" or "Strictly", either. That's mainly because, in my humble opinion, the kind of people who are fans of this mindless rubbish are mindless and, well, rubbish. However, I happen to know that my kids watch such rubbish, because their mum does, but they know that they are not going to hold a conversation with me about mindlessness of any kind, let alone the televisual kind. So I don't regard them as fans, as such.

I don't believe that any of my kids are gay. Or lesbian, which I thought was gay but female-gay, but clearly isn't otherwise there would be no such thing as LGBT, which I previously thought was a sandwich until I looked it up on Wikipedia. I don't think my kids are bi-anything. Or trans-anything either. I suspect that they would tell me if they were, or that I would notice.

I don't think that I largely like gay people. Apart from one, who is called Paddy, and because he's not Irish I can only imagine that this must be because he gets stroppy sometimes. Anyway, he's a decent lad and I have had far too much to drink with him on a couple of occasions. And the only reason I know he's gay is because about a hundred people told me that he is.

But my research (I use the term loosely and as a euphemism for looking on Wikipedia) has shown me that I am a homophobe. If someone had decided to publish (another euphemism for "made up") a psychological disorder to describe people who don't much care for football supporters or people who watch crap telly, and called it wankaphobia, I would also be wankaphobic.

I don't like Mandelson. I don't have to like him. I dislike him because I see him as standing for all the things that I detest about this last government, New Labour. I detest Brown too. And Blair. But I don't detest Mandelson particularly because he's gay. I don't detest Brown particularly because he's Scottish. And I don't particularly detest Blair because he was the main driving force behind the smoking ban. All of things help me detest these people, but I would have detested them, and all that they stand for, anyway.

So I don't care, is what I'm saying. I don't mind being labelled. Just get out of my face.

And Stonewall, whoever and whatever you are, I'd like to point out that you are doing far more harm than good.

I'll leave Old Holborn to do his Joo thing. I'm doing the gay thing today.

No Competition

Someone said to me on Saturday that Labour have gained in the polls. I can't find any evidence of this, although I believe the underdogs are up a couple of points, which means that the next Parliament is going to be even more diluted than it was going to be before.

Then CMD says "burglars leave their human rights at the front door." That'll get him some votes.

The Daily Mail loves this. So do I, because I know what he means. But what he said is not what he means. I sincerely hope so, anyway.

What he means, I hope and pray, is that when a burglar breaks in, or lets himself in, to your house/car/office/shed/boat/sleeping bag, and you decide that you're not terribly happy with this and your polite request to Mr Burglar to leave the premises fails to achieve the desired result, then you can smack him in the gob without the luvvy darling Blairspawn legal system coming down on you like a ton of shite.

That would be right and proper, in my book. And the book of everyone I know apart from a bloke called Dominic who was brought up a generation behind me and therefore doesn't understand reality, as I keep having to explain to him.

What would not be right, nor proper, in my book (and again, that of everyone I know, but this time including Dominic), is to take away human rights. You can justify taking away freedom, you can justify a bop on the nose and, if someone threatens your kids, a stout scaffold pole to the back of the head. But a human is a human. Humans have rights. Even if they're chavs, blaggers, burglars, thieves or genocidal maniacs, such as that chap who's recently been grilled at the Chilcot Inquiry. They have rights.

Dear Dave, please take just a little bit of care choosing your words. Humans are humans. They have rights. Always. Such as the right to go and have a fag in a heated, substantially enclosed place.