It is the year 3015. The banks collapsed nearly a hundred years ago when everyone withdrew their money to buy petrol cars, as governments put up the tax on diesel fuel by 14,000% in a knee-jerk reaction to a man-made global warming scare when VW revealed that their engines were producing compounds which could harm laboratory mice. The money was not there to withdraw.
The propaganda machine failed to stem the flood of customers, social media took over, and the result was that the bankers and their puppets, the politicians, were impaled on spikes on the railings of the Palace of Westminster.
Anyhow, that is history.
People still need places to live. Bricks have become hugely expensive. And history, repeating itself, ensured that the savings that needed to be made, were made. The high vaulted ceilings of 1815 gave way in 2015 to the commonplace seven foot ceiling of the modern house.
Today, those ceilings have become a mere six feet.
Monday, 28 September 2015
Friday, 18 September 2015
People
I have two Muslims at work. They might be Moslems. I have no idea how they spell it.
One is Egyptian. His name is Amro. He doesn't walk like an Egyptian.
One is a Nigerian Asian. His name is Iqbal. He was born in Portsmouth and speaks cockney and another language when he's on the phone to his mum.
Iqbal is a Sunni. I have no idea what Amro is.
If you ask them about Islam they will happily tell you. About their festivals such as Eid and Ramadan. About fasting and stuff. Iqbal is dying for a bacon sarni but mustn't eat them because someone says he mustn't. I bet he has a sneaky one in the motorway services sometimes.
Amro is going to Medina today He says "it is where our prophet died." Notice he didn't say "where YOUR prophet died." He doesn't expect me to be a Muslim. I don't expect him to be a penguin.
These people are like me, in that they eat, sleep, work, say "oi oi saveloy" in the morning instead of grunting "morning" like it's some sort of punishment.
These people are not terrorists. They are nice people. They get the hump like I do sometimes but then that's understandable because the boss is a wanker.
Please don't think Muslims are all terrorists.
Maybe go out of your way to find one or two and ask them about their Islam. They won't come knocking at your door with a copy of the Watchtower or ask you to sit down for four days while they tell you about the Saviour. They might actually be quite interesting, you know?
You might be surprised.
Thanks for reading.
One is Egyptian. His name is Amro. He doesn't walk like an Egyptian.
One is a Nigerian Asian. His name is Iqbal. He was born in Portsmouth and speaks cockney and another language when he's on the phone to his mum.
Iqbal is a Sunni. I have no idea what Amro is.
If you ask them about Islam they will happily tell you. About their festivals such as Eid and Ramadan. About fasting and stuff. Iqbal is dying for a bacon sarni but mustn't eat them because someone says he mustn't. I bet he has a sneaky one in the motorway services sometimes.
Amro is going to Medina today He says "it is where our prophet died." Notice he didn't say "where YOUR prophet died." He doesn't expect me to be a Muslim. I don't expect him to be a penguin.
These people are like me, in that they eat, sleep, work, say "oi oi saveloy" in the morning instead of grunting "morning" like it's some sort of punishment.
These people are not terrorists. They are nice people. They get the hump like I do sometimes but then that's understandable because the boss is a wanker.
Please don't think Muslims are all terrorists.
Maybe go out of your way to find one or two and ask them about their Islam. They won't come knocking at your door with a copy of the Watchtower or ask you to sit down for four days while they tell you about the Saviour. They might actually be quite interesting, you know?
You might be surprised.
Thanks for reading.
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