Wednesday, 30 September 2009
Informix Roundup: 30 September 2009
IDS 7.31 went EOS today. The king is dead, long live the king.
Text search webcast.
Call for presentations for IIUG 2010.
Make space in your diary for the UK community event.
Informix Bootcamp in December.
Informix Roadshow in October.
IBM sells U2 to Rocket. Anyone wanna buy Informix?
Informix in a box academic initiative.
vNext Feature survey.
Fundamentals preparation courses keep coming.
Ex-Informixer gets a namecheck.
Another reason to upgrade.
Text search webcast.
Call for presentations for IIUG 2010.
Make space in your diary for the UK community event.
Informix Bootcamp in December.
Informix Roadshow in October.
IBM sells U2 to Rocket. Anyone wanna buy Informix?
Informix in a box academic initiative.
vNext Feature survey.
Fundamentals preparation courses keep coming.
Ex-Informixer gets a namecheck.
Another reason to upgrade.
Slightly creepy
Hm, not sure what to make of this, really. (Apart from the marginally dodgy name!)
I can see it's a good idea for being able to take down notes in a conference call or make sure that you have clearly noted down things, but I can also see how it's open to abuse.
Be warned and don't forget your tinfoil hats!
I can see it's a good idea for being able to take down notes in a conference call or make sure that you have clearly noted down things, but I can also see how it's open to abuse.
Be warned and don't forget your tinfoil hats!
On fire again today
Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
If I was David Cameron I would seize this historic opportunity to tell Rupert Murdoch to piss up a rope, but he won't because, like all our political leaders, he really is a male prostitute who will do incredibly dirty things in a public toilet for five quid and a chocolate Hobnob.
Exhibit B:
Mark Page talks bollocks and is blatantly a virgin. You don't have to be in the top set at rocket science to work out that someone with a massive, catalogued marble collection probably isn't nailing a lot of fanny.
The Climate Change Catastrophe
For years now, I've been a "climate change" skeptic. I don't deny that the climate changes, I do, however, question three things:
1. That the earth is, in fact, warming
Many of the ground-based temperature monitoring stations are located in urban areas, where temperatures would naturally be warmer. Some of them have famously been sited right next to heat extractor ducts from aircon and the like. So the immediate implication of this is that the surface data we have is not reliable and is very likely to be skewed upwards.
There is also not a very good coverage of these stations. Much of the land mass is not covered AT ALL. Almost none of the sea is covered, either. And the alleged rise in sea temperatures can also be questioned, if not ignored, because of changes in the methodology of taking the sea temperature over time.
However, warmist alarmists have extrapolated from the coverage that they do have, that temperatures are the same in places that don't have thermometers as they are in place they do have thermometers. This is roughly akin to saying "because it's raining in, it is raining all over the UK" or saying that "because it's raining over most of the UK, it's raining all over the world."
So, we now move on to satellite-observed temperatures. These are widely regarded as being the most accurate measurements. However, these have only been running for about 20 years, so they cannot be compared with other data sets in any sensible manner.
And only one of the six sets of satellite data shows any kind of warming trend. It is wildly out of kilter with all the other sets of data. Oddly enough, this is the data which comes from NASA, (very much) under the control of James Hanson, who has made a lot of career out of ... being a warmist alarmist.
All the other evidence that I have seen says that there is no visible warming trend, in fact there is a slight cooling trend, which frightens me a lot more than a warming trend. But more of that later.
So, first and foremost, I'm not convinced that the earth is currently warming at all.
2. That if the earth is warming, man is causing it
Now, the next question is that we have to assume that the earth is warming. The connection between any putative warming and man's meagre scratchings on the planet is, as far as I can tell, based on lots of hand waving, wishful thinking and "computer models".
Now, the computer models have a very similar deficiency to the thermal records: granularity. Computer models assume that areas of 122,500 square miles have the exact same climate. And if that sounds fair, think about the fact that the UK is 93,000 square miles in area. Does the Peak District have the same climate as Brighton? Does Nice have the same climate as Val d'Isère? How about London and the Nürburgring?
Yet as far as our climate modellers are concerned, this is a valid assumption.
There is also a considerable amount of debate about whether "climate change gases" (of which CO2 is not a significant driver, it's just used because it's relatively easy to monitor and track and hence, tax) have positive or negative feedback in a loop. If they have positive feedback, the loop spirals out of control and "bad things" happen. If they have negative feedback, then the spiral self-corrects and stabilises out. Current research indicates that the feedback is negative, so that even if the temperature is rising (and it isn't) and man is causing it (we don't) then it's not a problem anyway.
There is a lot of skepticism about the funding of anti-warmists. "Oil companies protecting their butts" is a common charge. And it's true, they could be protecting their butts and lying to us. But you could be taking money off the oil companies and telling the truth, the two are not mutually exlusive. What is not recorded with anywhere near the same prominence, however, is the source of funding for all the warmists. Well, mostly it's from governments, i.e., it's your and my tax money at work. At least the oil companies are spending their own money pushing their case.
And while it's equally true that taxpayer funding does not preclude the warmists from telling the truth, the idea that these noble-minded people are all doing it for Gaia is ludicrous. Warmists are people, too. They want funding. They want headlines. They want power.
And governments? Well, they luuurve the idea of an opportunity to increase their reach and grasp, and global wormening definitely gives them justification for just about anything they want. Let's face it, when was the last time the government told the truth about anything, let alone anything big? Iraq? Iran? Swine Flu?
So, I'm not convinced that man is causing any change to the global climate.
3. That if the earth is warming, the consequences will be bad for us
It is universally portrayed to us that any and all of the consequences of global warming will be catastrophic. There will be either flooding or droughts. Tempestuous weather, earthquakes, tsunamis and the finger of God inserted into our collective rectum all the way up to the elbow. Species will be wiped out left, right and centre. But historically, warmer paleo-climates were periods of incredible benefit for the creatures who lived then. Plant life was more abundant and bio-diversity (all hail to Gaia) always peaked in times of warmth. Surely at least some of the extra rain that falls will be beneficial?
Also, we're on our way out of an ice age. When Krakatoa erupted and we had a serious chillout, the effects on the earth were very immediate and frightening: crops failed, snow and ice, no summer - it was a fucking catastrophe. Bio-diversity and Gaia be fucked, a couple of years of that and humankind would have taken a serious beating.
In contrast, the Medieval Warm Period was regarded as a period of prosperity and progress. I'm personally much more frightened of Global Cooling than I am of Global Warming.
4. The old bullshit detector
It started going off from day one, really. "The science is settled" was a typical example. The science is never fucking settled. When I was at school, they still taught something like the Bohr model of the atom, which we now know is completely inadequate. Yet here we have a relatively young science, which is somehow miraculously already fully-formed and completely understood.
Miraculous.
Then there is the involvement of the IPCC. Supposedly a conglomerate of impartial, unbiased scientists working for the good of the world, it is, in fact, an enormous fuck-off multi-national unelected, unaccountable but still taxpayer-funded quango. The interesting thing is that although scientists draft the boring, unreadable technical documents, governments draft the summaries. Quite often, the technical documents say one thing and the summaries (which are all anyone ever reads, let's face it) say the complete opposite. A number of scientists have left the IPCC because of their dismay at being misrepresented - and some of them have been warmist alarmists!
I've already alluded to the issue of dodgy data earlier in the post, but this week a quite staggering bit of information has come to light:
So, lies, bullying, bluster and quangoes. And no evidence. And fraud. And we pay people to enable governments to fuck us around some more. It sounds just like a New Labour project, to be honest.
Update: more from DK.
1. That the earth is, in fact, warming
Many of the ground-based temperature monitoring stations are located in urban areas, where temperatures would naturally be warmer. Some of them have famously been sited right next to heat extractor ducts from aircon and the like. So the immediate implication of this is that the surface data we have is not reliable and is very likely to be skewed upwards.
There is also not a very good coverage of these stations. Much of the land mass is not covered AT ALL. Almost none of the sea is covered, either. And the alleged rise in sea temperatures can also be questioned, if not ignored, because of changes in the methodology of taking the sea temperature over time.
However, warmist alarmists have extrapolated from the coverage that they do have, that temperatures are the same in places that don't have thermometers as they are in place they do have thermometers. This is roughly akin to saying "because it's raining in
So, we now move on to satellite-observed temperatures. These are widely regarded as being the most accurate measurements. However, these have only been running for about 20 years, so they cannot be compared with other data sets in any sensible manner.
And only one of the six sets of satellite data shows any kind of warming trend. It is wildly out of kilter with all the other sets of data. Oddly enough, this is the data which comes from NASA, (very much) under the control of James Hanson, who has made a lot of career out of ... being a warmist alarmist.
All the other evidence that I have seen says that there is no visible warming trend, in fact there is a slight cooling trend, which frightens me a lot more than a warming trend. But more of that later.
So, first and foremost, I'm not convinced that the earth is currently warming at all.
2. That if the earth is warming, man is causing it
Now, the next question is that we have to assume that the earth is warming. The connection between any putative warming and man's meagre scratchings on the planet is, as far as I can tell, based on lots of hand waving, wishful thinking and "computer models".
Now, the computer models have a very similar deficiency to the thermal records: granularity. Computer models assume that areas of 122,500 square miles have the exact same climate. And if that sounds fair, think about the fact that the UK is 93,000 square miles in area. Does the Peak District have the same climate as Brighton? Does Nice have the same climate as Val d'Isère? How about London and the Nürburgring?
Yet as far as our climate modellers are concerned, this is a valid assumption.
There is also a considerable amount of debate about whether "climate change gases" (of which CO2 is not a significant driver, it's just used because it's relatively easy to monitor and track and hence, tax) have positive or negative feedback in a loop. If they have positive feedback, the loop spirals out of control and "bad things" happen. If they have negative feedback, then the spiral self-corrects and stabilises out. Current research indicates that the feedback is negative, so that even if the temperature is rising (and it isn't) and man is causing it (we don't) then it's not a problem anyway.
There is a lot of skepticism about the funding of anti-warmists. "Oil companies protecting their butts" is a common charge. And it's true, they could be protecting their butts and lying to us. But you could be taking money off the oil companies and telling the truth, the two are not mutually exlusive. What is not recorded with anywhere near the same prominence, however, is the source of funding for all the warmists. Well, mostly it's from governments, i.e., it's your and my tax money at work. At least the oil companies are spending their own money pushing their case.
And while it's equally true that taxpayer funding does not preclude the warmists from telling the truth, the idea that these noble-minded people are all doing it for Gaia is ludicrous. Warmists are people, too. They want funding. They want headlines. They want power.
And governments? Well, they luuurve the idea of an opportunity to increase their reach and grasp, and global wormening definitely gives them justification for just about anything they want. Let's face it, when was the last time the government told the truth about anything, let alone anything big? Iraq? Iran? Swine Flu?
So, I'm not convinced that man is causing any change to the global climate.
3. That if the earth is warming, the consequences will be bad for us
It is universally portrayed to us that any and all of the consequences of global warming will be catastrophic. There will be either flooding or droughts. Tempestuous weather, earthquakes, tsunamis and the finger of God inserted into our collective rectum all the way up to the elbow. Species will be wiped out left, right and centre. But historically, warmer paleo-climates were periods of incredible benefit for the creatures who lived then. Plant life was more abundant and bio-diversity (all hail to Gaia) always peaked in times of warmth. Surely at least some of the extra rain that falls will be beneficial?
Also, we're on our way out of an ice age. When Krakatoa erupted and we had a serious chillout, the effects on the earth were very immediate and frightening: crops failed, snow and ice, no summer - it was a fucking catastrophe. Bio-diversity and Gaia be fucked, a couple of years of that and humankind would have taken a serious beating.
In contrast, the Medieval Warm Period was regarded as a period of prosperity and progress. I'm personally much more frightened of Global Cooling than I am of Global Warming.
4. The old bullshit detector
It started going off from day one, really. "The science is settled" was a typical example. The science is never fucking settled. When I was at school, they still taught something like the Bohr model of the atom, which we now know is completely inadequate. Yet here we have a relatively young science, which is somehow miraculously already fully-formed and completely understood.
Miraculous.
Then there is the involvement of the IPCC. Supposedly a conglomerate of impartial, unbiased scientists working for the good of the world, it is, in fact, an enormous fuck-off multi-national unelected, unaccountable but still taxpayer-funded quango. The interesting thing is that although scientists draft the boring, unreadable technical documents, governments draft the summaries. Quite often, the technical documents say one thing and the summaries (which are all anyone ever reads, let's face it) say the complete opposite. A number of scientists have left the IPCC because of their dismay at being misrepresented - and some of them have been warmist alarmists!
I've already alluded to the issue of dodgy data earlier in the post, but this week a quite staggering bit of information has come to light:
"I hardly know where to begin in terms of commentary on this difference."Possibly the understatement of, well, several centuries from Mr McIntyre there. There is a detailed exposition of the events over at Bishop Hill, but in a nutshell, a scientist cherry-picked a bunch of data which led to a false conclusion and when all the data was considered, there was no proof AT ALL of the so-called "hockey stick" rise in temperatures.
So, lies, bullying, bluster and quangoes. And no evidence. And fraud. And we pay people to enable governments to fuck us around some more. It sounds
Update: more from DK.
Korma Coma
Blogging will be ... intermittent ... today, as I fend off the consequences of last night's bhuna.
The King is dead. Long live the King!
Today, Informix-Dynamic Server 7.31 finally goes EOS (End of Support, or retirement for the non-techies among you.) The first GA release of 7.31 was UC2, officially released on 26 February 1999. More than ten years and seven months later, and to the accompaniment the wailing and gnashing of teeth of thousands of users, this version has finally ceased to be supported.
Bow your heads in reverence at the passing of the king.
Bow your heads in reverence at the passing of the king.
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Quote of the femtosecond
Short of defecating in a cup and throwing it in the face of a granny, the Prime Minister is always going to get a standing ovation at the party conference, no matter what he or she does.
Appalling!
Fucking hell, what's next?
Seriously? First off there's the idea that a violent man can be chucked out of his own home to give the family respite. Well, I don't have a lot of truck with spouse beaters (or spouses who put up with beatings for that matter) but for fuck's sake, if you own the house, and you get thrown out of a house you actually own or rent, WTF? Property rights?
And it's not like the perpetrator isn't going to know where to find the victim, is it? I'm sure they're going to feel a lot fucking safer with a DVLA order or whatever the fucking fuck you've decided to call it.
Then there's the "huts for sluts" program announced by the monocular mentalist today. Stolen, just like British Jobs for British Workers, from the fucking BNP.
Jesus fucking Christ, tell you what Gordon, here's a fucking vote-winner: why not round up all the blacks and make them live in one designated area, move all the Asians to another designated area and finally earmark all the best jobs for white people. There's even a fucking snappy name for this policy and you'll also achieve the idea of an undying legacy for your PM-ship. And a fucking 1000-year reich as well.
You fucking mad freak.
And it's not like the perpetrator isn't going to know where to find the victim, is it? I'm sure they're going to feel a lot fucking safer with a DVLA order or whatever the fucking fuck you've decided to call it.
Then there's the "huts for sluts" program announced by the monocular mentalist today. Stolen, just like British Jobs for British Workers, from the fucking BNP.
Jesus fucking Christ, tell you what Gordon, here's a fucking vote-winner: why not round up all the blacks and make them live in one designated area, move all the Asians to another designated area and finally earmark all the best jobs for white people. There's even a fucking snappy name for this policy and you'll also achieve the idea of an undying legacy for your PM-ship. And a fucking 1000-year reich as well.
You fucking mad freak.
Quote of the hemi-demi-picosecond
They were crying out for relief, and it's been so long since they were pleasured by a seasoned professional.
Wat Tyler goes places I didn't want to think about, including his holiday jobs.
A commentor writes
From the ever-wonderous Sperm Lewis:
We've got hoards of kids in Wales, cos since the mines went tits up, Wales has been one gigantic subsidised breeding programme, see? Some of the little fuckers are so inbred they look like they've crawled out of Chair-nobble. One eye in the middle of the forehead; two irises per cornea; God aye, we've seen it all. Idris Price, the Torso from Maesteg, look you. He's nothing but a torso with a proboscis for sucking up his beer and hosing it back into people's faces, and in these parts he counts as a sophisticate.
That's the Labour way, see? For rotten boroughs, read subsidised breeding programmes masquerading as devolved Principalities. Only now, we're on to their little game. Anyone who thinks we're cannon fodder has forgotten that time they parachuted some boot-faced Blairite cow from London into Blaenau Gwent. Come the day, every last wheelchair-bound monstrosity is being trucked down the hill to vote Plaid. And since Angharad Ap Morlock has got postal votes in her capacity as my auntie and my sister and my niece, those NuLab fuckers ain't gonna know what hit 'em.
Gonna be fucking brilliant, it is.
We've got hoards of kids in Wales, cos since the mines went tits up, Wales has been one gigantic subsidised breeding programme, see? Some of the little fuckers are so inbred they look like they've crawled out of Chair-nobble. One eye in the middle of the forehead; two irises per cornea; God aye, we've seen it all. Idris Price, the Torso from Maesteg, look you. He's nothing but a torso with a proboscis for sucking up his beer and hosing it back into people's faces, and in these parts he counts as a sophisticate.
That's the Labour way, see? For rotten boroughs, read subsidised breeding programmes masquerading as devolved Principalities. Only now, we're on to their little game. Anyone who thinks we're cannon fodder has forgotten that time they parachuted some boot-faced Blairite cow from London into Blaenau Gwent. Come the day, every last wheelchair-bound monstrosity is being trucked down the hill to vote Plaid. And since Angharad Ap Morlock has got postal votes in her capacity as my auntie and my sister and my niece, those NuLab fuckers ain't gonna know what hit 'em.
Gonna be fucking brilliant, it is.
Creating a Marr-tyr
Well, here's a thing. Seems like everyone in the Labour Party is weighing in against the gangly-armed ginger fuckwit, and that for a ludicrously soft-ball question. A question that all these sanctimonious Labour cunt weasels were quite happy to see used against Call Me Dave. Indeed, that über-hypocrite and smoker of Labour's pole, Kevin Maguire was quite vociferous in banging on about Dave's recreational habits a decade ago.
That is nothing compared with the acting Prime Minister's possible dependency on horse pills that are so dangerous that they're only wheeled for the seriously unwell. I mean, seriously, this guy has access to one of those nasty big red buttons.
So suddenly the ultra-Labourite Marr is a martyr, being sacrificed on the altar of contumely. But the cynic in me wonders if this isn't all some carefully stage-managed shenanigans to deflect attention away from Gordon actually being on pills and onto someone daring to ask the question. The heat generated by this rather innocuous question makes me wonder though.
I do genuinely think Gordon is insane, living in a parallel universe. But to be honest, I think the same can be said of ANY politician in the Wastemonster bubble. And they do live in a fucking parallel universe, one where no action ever has any negative consequence. They are immune from the constraints they place upon on us. So they're all perfectly right to be insane by our standards. And Gordon does have some interesting character attributes that make me think he may not be bolted together as tightly as everyone else. But I didn't think Gordon really was insane, in the wibble-finger, rolling-eye, baying at the moon, horse pills sense.
Now, however ... I'm not so sure any more.
Update: Oh dear, this is going to upset my fellow blazer wearers at the Cuntry Club: Anna Raccoon agrees.
That is nothing compared with the acting Prime Minister's possible dependency on horse pills that are so dangerous that they're only wheeled for the seriously unwell. I mean, seriously, this guy has access to one of those nasty big red buttons.
So suddenly the ultra-Labourite Marr is a martyr, being sacrificed on the altar of contumely. But the cynic in me wonders if this isn't all some carefully stage-managed shenanigans to deflect attention away from Gordon actually being on pills and onto someone daring to ask the question. The heat generated by this rather innocuous question makes me wonder though.
I do genuinely think Gordon is insane, living in a parallel universe. But to be honest, I think the same can be said of ANY politician in the Wastemonster bubble. And they do live in a fucking parallel universe, one where no action ever has any negative consequence. They are immune from the constraints they place upon on us. So they're all perfectly right to be insane by our standards. And Gordon does have some interesting character attributes that make me think he may not be bolted together as tightly as everyone else. But I didn't think Gordon really was insane, in the wibble-finger, rolling-eye, baying at the moon, horse pills sense.
Now, however ... I'm not so sure any more.
Update: Oh dear, this is going to upset my fellow blazer wearers at the Cuntry Club: Anna Raccoon agrees.
Must be Yorkshire, then
And, as the local Lib Dems say, “Blogging? What sort of southern woofter rubbish is that? Writing? Oh, la de dar! Hark at you! Now, I don’t care about your blogganing, or your fancy schmansy writing or whatever it is you do to waste your time: Here’s 100 Focus leaflets - make yourself useful or get t’fuck.”
Heh.
The sad thing is, they're probably right.
Monday, 28 September 2009
Dave Barry on free speech
If you don't already read Dave Barry, go out and get some now. You can thank me later.
Tip of the clown wig to the Whited Sepulchre.
Where should I put my Twatter feed?
I thought I'd try putting my twatter feed in a more visible spot. I think it needs tidying up, but overall I rather like the idea. Anyway, vote in the poll if you feel strongly about it.
Sometimes you just have to write it down
So there I was, trying to land an Imperial Star Cruiser at Hong Kong airport...
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Sniff ... sniff ...
I wonder if the Gorgon can smell which way the wind is blowing yet?
Mmm ... yummy. I wonder why?
Ah. So the old tax-and-spend horseshit isn't convincing the voters, is it?
Hmmm ... a message to SocDems everywhere: even the Germans don't want this shit any more. Think about that, the fucking GERMANS don't want that shit any more.
Really? You mean there are unintended consequences of regulation? Well, fuck me sideways with a rancid kipper.
Anyway ... that rancid kipper is a good metaphor for the equally rancid and fishy Labour Party. And News of the Screws notwithstanding, I reckon the time for socialism is at an end. It's time for government tighten its belt, take its hands from the controls and get the fucking fuck out of the way ...
And Gordoom ... that cold wind that's chilling your spine? Take heed, you monocular freak - it's the cold, bitter wind of the wilderness and it's coming for you.
German Chancellor Angela Merkel on Sunday recorded a resounding triumph in her country's general elections and will be able to leave her coalition partners behind after they suffered their worst parliamentary election result since the Second World War.
Mmm ... yummy. I wonder why?
Together with the FDP, Mrs Merkel is expected to push for a new era of deeper economic reforms and tax cuts for Europe's biggest economy. Mrs Merkel's Christian Democratic Union (CDU) and the FDP benefited from dissatisfaction over spiralling national debt and stagnant income levels.
Ah. So the old tax-and-spend horseshit isn't convincing the voters, is it?
The CDU retained its position as Germany's largest party with 33.5 per cent and the Free Democrats jumped to 15 per cent.
The result marked a humiliating blow for Germany's venerable Social Democratic Party, which took just 22.5 per cent.
Hmmm ... a message to SocDems everywhere: even the Germans don't want this shit any more. Think about that, the fucking GERMANS don't want that shit any more.
Predictions of a tight outcome were confounded by frustrated voters embracing Mrs Merkel's case for a stronger hand to deal with Germany's long-term financial problems.
"There is a great need to change. We need to deal in a new way with the problem of long-term unemployment and the fact that people need to have more money in their pockets," said Stefan Muller, a voter in Berlin who has been unemployed for two years. "I haven't been able to find work because companies don't want to employ people over 40 because of the costs imposed by regulations. I voted reluctantly because it was a tough choice but something needs to happen."
Really? You mean there are unintended consequences of regulation? Well, fuck me sideways with a rancid kipper.
Anyway ... that rancid kipper is a good metaphor for the equally rancid and fishy Labour Party. And News of the Screws notwithstanding, I reckon the time for socialism is at an end. It's time for government tighten its belt, take its hands from the controls and get the fucking fuck out of the way ...
And Gordoom ... that cold wind that's chilling your spine? Take heed, you monocular freak - it's the cold, bitter wind of the wilderness and it's coming for you.
This is why
One of my commentors on a previous post raised an important issue here, and I feel I need to comment on it:
It's very simple, and if you doubt what I'm saying, I'll tell you how to prove it.
The reason there is no communal solidarity is that the state has made itself into the ultimate arbiter and provider of all things. If you don't believe me, have a look for local problems in your area and then talk to locals about it. It doesn't matter whether it's yobs, flytipping or graffiti, the answer will be the same: "The council just doesn't care," or words to that effect. They won't ever say: "You're right, let's go sort it out." And why should they? They pay richly for the council to do this kind of crap, unfortunately, the council is too fucking busy "pursuing green and diversity agendas" to actually do the things that people want them to do. It doesn't matter whether your local council is Red, Blue or Yellow, the focus of the political classes is not on our priorities.
And on the national scale, for example, people won't go and talk to their kids' teachers about school standards or anything, they'll sit and wait for Ed Fucking Bollocks to decree how to make things better.
Locally and nationally, the state has positioned itself as the fount of all goodness, all wisdom and all discipline.
Unfortunately, the state's mouth is writing cheques that it's arse can't cash.
The state doesn't actually have the nous or the resources or the fucking intelligence to perform all these wondrous tasks that it's claimed ownership of, but the vast majority of people have been brainwashed into accepting that "the government needs to do something," and not "I need to do something."
The particularly nasty side effect of this is that the police have become refocused from worrying about crimes against individuals, to worrying about "crimes" against the state or the political orthodoxy. When last did you see a policeman actually doing something constructive? Or at fucking all? The only representatives of law and order that I ever see are:
The only time I ever see a pukka policeman, is when I pass one walking to the local McDonalds or M&S to buy lunch. And then the fuckers are all tooled up like it's Compton or something. No, you cockwads, it's a genteel market town. But they never do fucking shit. They just sit in their offices, filling in forms and then drive home in the company Transit. Cunts.
And God forbid you should actually stand up to any of these little shit-kickers - the police will be round in a flash, alright, but they'll be there to bang you up for kiddy-fiddling. And take your DNA.
So there are actually many reasons why the people in the street didn't do anything.
And to be honest, I don't judge them. We had a bit of trouble in my street, nothing like as bad as the Pilkingtons. The police dropped heavy hints that I was wasting their time. The council said it was a matter for the police. I knew that if I went out and did something, I'd be on the wrong end of the stick. I was lucky, the troublemakers fucked off somewhere else. But if they hadn't, I would have either had to wait for the impotent and uncaring state to do something, or I would have had to face possible criminal charges.
Just for "standing up for my local community."
We can barely imagine what drove this mother to take her own life and that of her daughter. OK, some of these 'street urchins' do get on our tits but the thought of suicide, I hope, never crosses our minds. Clearly the mental state of the mother had a part to play in this ghastly tragedy, as well as the utterly reprehensible behaviour of the youths in question.
The questions we need to ask are why the police felt there was nothing they could do about this situation- is it because they couldn't (say due to legal restraints) or because they simply didn't want to (why?).
And here's another question- why the hell didn't the neighbours make a stand or show any kind of empathy with this woman. Didn't they have the guts to stand up to a few oiks?
Or is it because they simply didn't give a toss? Did they just shrug their shoulders and think "well it's not my problem so I don't give a fuck".
I'm not being rhetorical here, I'm simply asking why there was no communal solidarity at work here?
The police should be ashamed of themselves.
And so should the residents of that particular street.
It's very simple, and if you doubt what I'm saying, I'll tell you how to prove it.
The reason there is no communal solidarity is that the state has made itself into the ultimate arbiter and provider of all things. If you don't believe me, have a look for local problems in your area and then talk to locals about it. It doesn't matter whether it's yobs, flytipping or graffiti, the answer will be the same: "The council just doesn't care," or words to that effect. They won't ever say: "You're right, let's go sort it out." And why should they? They pay richly for the council to do this kind of crap, unfortunately, the council is too fucking busy "pursuing green and diversity agendas" to actually do the things that people want them to do. It doesn't matter whether your local council is Red, Blue or Yellow, the focus of the political classes is not on our priorities.
And on the national scale, for example, people won't go and talk to their kids' teachers about school standards or anything, they'll sit and wait for Ed Fucking Bollocks to decree how to make things better.
Locally and nationally, the state has positioned itself as the fount of all goodness, all wisdom and all discipline.
Unfortunately, the state's mouth is writing cheques that it's arse can't cash.
The state doesn't actually have the nous or the resources or the fucking intelligence to perform all these wondrous tasks that it's claimed ownership of, but the vast majority of people have been brainwashed into accepting that "the government needs to do something," and not "I need to do something."
The particularly nasty side effect of this is that the police have become refocused from worrying about crimes against individuals, to worrying about "crimes" against the state or the political orthodoxy. When last did you see a policeman actually doing something constructive? Or at fucking all? The only representatives of law and order that I ever see are:
- plastic plod
- speed cameras
- jumped up uniform-clad jobsworths (who aren't police)
The only time I ever see a pukka policeman, is when I pass one walking to the local McDonalds or M&S to buy lunch. And then the fuckers are all tooled up like it's Compton or something. No, you cockwads, it's a genteel market town. But they never do fucking shit. They just sit in their offices, filling in forms and then drive home in the company Transit. Cunts.
And God forbid you should actually stand up to any of these little shit-kickers - the police will be round in a flash, alright, but they'll be there to bang you up for kiddy-fiddling. And take your DNA.
So there are actually many reasons why the people in the street didn't do anything.
And to be honest, I don't judge them. We had a bit of trouble in my street, nothing like as bad as the Pilkingtons. The police dropped heavy hints that I was wasting their time. The council said it was a matter for the police. I knew that if I went out and did something, I'd be on the wrong end of the stick. I was lucky, the troublemakers fucked off somewhere else. But if they hadn't, I would have either had to wait for the impotent and uncaring state to do something, or I would have had to face possible criminal charges.
Just for "standing up for my local community."
Oh, I'm laughing now ... a bit
Schadenfreude is a terrible thing. But let's face it, the buck-toothed troughing cunt is more deserving than most:
Oh ho! Just imagine if the Attorney-General was sacked from the bar. Oh, I don't think I'd stop laughing for a week!
Gordoom? Accused of weakness? Let's face it, folks, compared to the Gorgon, even the Italian army looks good, never mind the French!
The irony of this is matched only by the brass neck of the Barrenness in question.
Well, the only thing that gives me pause is that by rights, the smug, overweening and egregiously entitled fucking authoritarian jumped-up hectoring whore should already have fucked off. But the fact that she doesn't think that breaking the law is any kind of hassle for an A-G, and the fact that Labour Party feels the same way, and the fact that Her Majesty's Loyal but Supine and Useless opposition have just let this one slide the same way they let every other fucking thing slide means that I reckon the Barrenness will just tough this fucker out. Let's face it, folks, politics has become a staring contest, and with a man who was sacked from politics twice by Labour (no fucking mean achievement considering what you have to do to get sacked by these troughing thieves) now effectively running the country, I don't think there's much chance of this jumped-up little trougher walking the plank.
She's survived major troughing allegations and being the first private person to be prosecuted under her own law. I can't see the Bar doing anything that will shift her.
The Bar Standards Board has received a number of complaints about the beleaguered Cabinet minister, who was fined £5,000 for employing an illegal immigrant.
The development further intensifies pressure on Lady Scotland to step down amid growing concern within Labour that the affair will dominate this week's party conference.
Oh ho! Just imagine if the Attorney-General was sacked from the bar. Oh, I don't think I'd stop laughing for a week!
Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister, has been accused of showing weakness by failing to sack Lady Scotland, who said in interviews last week that her breach of immigration law could be compared with failing to pay London's congestion charge.
Gordoom? Accused of weakness? Let's face it, folks, compared to the Gorgon, even the Italian army looks good, never mind the French!
The most senior law officer in England and Wales avoided the sack despite becoming the first individual in the country to be sanctioned for breaching immigration rules that she helped frame as a Home Office minister. All other prosecutions have covered companies.
The irony of this is matched only by the brass neck of the Barrenness in question.
The Bar Standards Board does not normally investigate complaints about a lawyer's private life, but its own guidelines acknowledge that such an inquiry may be launched in "exceptional circumstances".
A spokeswoman for the board declined to comment about Lady Scotland's case and refused to disclose how many complaints had been received.
Senior legal sources have told this newspaper that the Bar Standards Board would have no alternative but to carry out an inquiry into whether the QC breached the barristers' code of conduct and brought the legal profession into disrepute.
The board was created just three years ago as part of the Bar's attempt to retain its self-regulating role, and failing to act could leave the organisation open to criticism, said lawyers.
"I have no doubt that the Bar Standards Board will deal with this properly and take appropriate action," said one QC.
Members of the disciplinary panel may now have to consider whether Lady Scotland's activities have been "dishonest or otherwise discreditable to a barrister".
The board has the power to disbar a lawyer who is found to have committed a serious breach of the code. Even if a lesser punishment is imposed – such as a fine, suspension or reprimand – it could be fatal to Lady Scotland's political career.
Well, the only thing that gives me pause is that by rights, the smug, overweening and egregiously entitled fucking authoritarian jumped-up hectoring whore should already have fucked off. But the fact that she doesn't think that breaking the law is any kind of hassle for an A-G, and the fact that Labour Party feels the same way, and the fact that Her Majesty's Loyal but Supine and Useless opposition have just let this one slide the same way they let every other fucking thing slide means that I reckon the Barrenness will just tough this fucker out. Let's face it, folks, politics has become a staring contest, and with a man who was sacked from politics twice by Labour (no fucking mean achievement considering what you have to do to get sacked by these troughing thieves) now effectively running the country, I don't think there's much chance of this jumped-up little trougher walking the plank.
She's survived major troughing allegations and being the first private person to be prosecuted under her own law. I can't see the Bar doing anything that will shift her.
Saturday, 26 September 2009
Fucking genius!
Heh:
Read the whole thing. It's brilliant!
I watched last Monday's episode in the company of a clump of broccoli, and it was held in a rapt silence throughout. Well, most of the time. To be honest, I think it drifted off a bit during a Backstreet Boys report. And I had to slap it awake at the start of each ad break. Apart from that, it was spellbound.
Read the whole thing. It's brilliant!
"WTF?" squared
OK, so lets start off with this:
Fucking hell. I could have sworn that I just read that policeman says that it's not the job of the police to tackle criminal behaviour.
I must need glasses or something. Anyway, moving on:
Yep. That's what your council is going to do to stop you from burning yourself to death in a layby: offer you a nice warm cuppa.
I can't help but feel that while candiru fish and other forms of exquisite torture would be emotionally rewarding to watch, there are just too many of these fucking idiots that need killing. I think it's going to have to be a minigun and a mass grave or two.
Cunts.
A senior police officer told the inquest into the deaths of a family terrorised by a gang of youths that it was not the responsibility of police to tackle anti-social behaviour.
Fucking hell. I could have sworn that I just read that policeman says that it's not the job of the police to tackle criminal behaviour.
I must need glasses or something. Anyway, moving on:
Ms Davison said: ''If somebody had sat this woman (Ms Pilkington) down with a cup of tea they could have perhaps helped her."
Yep. That's what your council is going to do to stop you from burning yourself to death in a layby: offer you a nice warm cuppa.
I can't help but feel that while candiru fish and other forms of exquisite torture would be emotionally rewarding to watch, there are just too many of these fucking idiots that need killing. I think it's going to have to be a minigun and a mass grave or two.
Cunts.
Friday, 25 September 2009
Bilabial talks
I see that the firm young cuntlip is finally holding "bilateral talks" with the saggy, clap-ridden old cuntlip. Really? Well, that's fucking nice.
But apart from the obvious "damage has already been done" perspective, what the fuck is this cuntweaselling about "bilateral talks"? The two of them are going to sit in a pair of chairs, have a cup of coffee, the manic mincing madman is going to simper like a schoolgirl talking to a boy band cuntstain, Obamalamadingdong is going to smile, some photos will be taken and Gordoom will make up some fantasy conversation and Obama will head straight for the shower to get the stink of "Loser" off him.
They won't discuss fucking shit. But even if they did, there's two of the fuckers in a room having a chat. When your manager calls you into his office, do you have "bilateral talks"? No, I don't fucking think you do.
Why do they have to waffle out this pompous cock-sniffing terminology every time the Prime Mentalist gets within bogey-munching distance of anyone who is more popular and successful than he is ... i.e., 99.999999999999999999999999999999999% of the world's population?
Obama's deigned to offer him a cup of coffee and five minutes of his time. "Bilateral talks", my festering, rancid arse!
Update: The Snot-Gobblin' King has proclaimed: "I think you guys should start to understand how international meetings work."
Arrogant fuckstick.
But apart from the obvious "damage has already been done" perspective, what the fuck is this cuntweaselling about "bilateral talks"? The two of them are going to sit in a pair of chairs, have a cup of coffee, the manic mincing madman is going to simper like a schoolgirl talking to a boy band cuntstain, Obamalamadingdong is going to smile, some photos will be taken and Gordoom will make up some fantasy conversation and Obama will head straight for the shower to get the stink of "Loser" off him.
They won't discuss fucking shit. But even if they did, there's two of the fuckers in a room having a chat. When your manager calls you into his office, do you have "bilateral talks"? No, I don't fucking think you do.
Why do they have to waffle out this pompous cock-sniffing terminology every time the Prime Mentalist gets within bogey-munching distance of anyone who is more popular and successful than he is ... i.e., 99.999999999999999999999999999999999% of the world's population?
Obama's deigned to offer him a cup of coffee and five minutes of his time. "Bilateral talks", my festering, rancid arse!
Update: The Snot-Gobblin' King has proclaimed: "I think you guys should start to understand how international meetings work."
Arrogant fuckstick.
10 drugs not to take while driving
Who said the Germans don't have a sense of humour?
Tip of the clown wig to the Daz man.
No pieces for the wicked
Or rather, no pieces from the wicked, not until I've sorted some nasty shit out.
Thursday, 24 September 2009
Hoo-fucking-ray
GC is back up, but not yet re-skinned. At least we kind of have something there, though.
Fucking cocksucking hacking cunts.
Fucking cocksucking hacking cunts.
I must admit ...
... my immediate reaction was exactly the same as that of the first windowlicker over at Guido:
when I read this:
+++ Source : Tapui Denies Showing Baroness Passport +++
I can only assume that Guido feels that the Barren-ness is about to get her arse handed to her on a silver platter. And about fucking time, too.
Update: I see Max Clifford has joined the party. This is going to get SO fucking messy. If Barren-ness Cuntland has an iota of sense, she will resign now. Because tomorrow it's going to be too late.
Hahahahahaahahaahahahahahaha!!!!!
Back of the net!
when I read this:
+++ Source : Tapui Denies Showing Baroness Passport +++
+++ No Evidence Husband Alexander Zivancevic is a Solicitor +++
UPDATE : There are questions as to the status and paperwork for Alexander Zivancevic. UKBA having problems establishing his right to residence. Oh dear…
I can only assume that Guido feels that the Barren-ness is about to get her arse handed to her on a silver platter. And about fucking time, too.
Update: I see Max Clifford has joined the party. This is going to get SO fucking messy. If Barren-ness Cuntland has an iota of sense, she will resign now. Because tomorrow it's going to be too late.
Too true
Fernando talks about the uselessness of too many people in technology. After an all-too-familiar tale of woe, he says:
The purpose of this post is to show how important it is to know how to debug a problem. Tools like truss, dbx/gdb/adb and lsof are invaluable for this. I personally think anybody working on IT problem solving independently of their role (DBA, programmer, system administrator, network administrator etc.) should have a minimal knowlege about how they work and what kind of information you can collect with them. There are obviously other tools equally useful in some scenarios. Tools like tcpdump, netstat etc. This whole case revealed that many people involved in this area don't have a clue about how these tools work and the info they can collect.
Everybody involved had a theory about the problem. But none of those theories were based on facts or real observations. They were merely speculations of what could be happening and all these tend to pass the problem to a different team...
Some facts about the situation:
* lots of emails including polished accusations were exchanged
* during two months I spent a considerable amout of time paying attention to this, trying to lead people into the righ direction (mostly without success)
* Vendor S2 had a very large team involved. They even sent a consultant from another country into this customer site (when he arrived we were about to receive the fix, so apart from politics this guy was not able to do much about this problem)
* The problem could have been solved in around two weeks (one for debugging and another for the vendor investigation and code fixing)
* No one admitted that didn't understand the output of the tools above and no one (even after the conclusion) took the opportunity to ask me to explain how to use this kind of tools
I don't think I know everything (and in fact my knowledge about these tools is somewhat superficial), but I only learn how to use this kind of stuff because in some situation in my past I came across some references to them and I took the time to experiment and read about them. In other words, we should use the problems as opportunities to gather more knowledge and to learn new things.
I keep receiving reports about problems without any useful information. My favorite ones are:
* I tried it and it doesn't work!
Surely I believe it doesn't work... But usually when something "doesn't work" it raises an error. Only rarely people include the error code/description. More often they include possible causes (usually not related to the error) than they include the error code or error message
* The process was hang! It was probably in some kind of loop! So I killed it
Well... processes don't "hang". They wait on something or they effectively stay in some loop. And the way to see that is by using the tools... And the tools don't work on a process that doesn't exist anymore...
* I've found a bug!
Sure... A bug is a malfunction. Something that works differently from what's documented or what is expected. Most of the times people find a problem. After some analysis (many times involving supplier's technical support) it may be mapped to a bug. People tend to expect something. If it doesn't happen they "found a bug". Usually they don't bother to read the documentation and try to understand the reasons for the unexpected behaviour.
Obviously people do hit bugs. Most of the cases that I open within IBM end up as bugs. But this is just a very small portion of the problems that customers report.
In short, I feel that in general, people's ability to study a problem in the IT world is very limited. Usually people spend more time trying alternatives than collecting and understand problem data. Error messages and codes are ignored many times. And all these translate into a big waste of time, and obviously money... And of course, this directly impacts the quality and availability of the IT systems.
I couldn't say it better myself...
The purpose of this post is to show how important it is to know how to debug a problem. Tools like truss, dbx/gdb/adb and lsof are invaluable for this. I personally think anybody working on IT problem solving independently of their role (DBA, programmer, system administrator, network administrator etc.) should have a minimal knowlege about how they work and what kind of information you can collect with them. There are obviously other tools equally useful in some scenarios. Tools like tcpdump, netstat etc. This whole case revealed that many people involved in this area don't have a clue about how these tools work and the info they can collect.
Everybody involved had a theory about the problem. But none of those theories were based on facts or real observations. They were merely speculations of what could be happening and all these tend to pass the problem to a different team...
Some facts about the situation:
* lots of emails including polished accusations were exchanged
* during two months I spent a considerable amout of time paying attention to this, trying to lead people into the righ direction (mostly without success)
* Vendor S2 had a very large team involved. They even sent a consultant from another country into this customer site (when he arrived we were about to receive the fix, so apart from politics this guy was not able to do much about this problem)
* The problem could have been solved in around two weeks (one for debugging and another for the vendor investigation and code fixing)
* No one admitted that didn't understand the output of the tools above and no one (even after the conclusion) took the opportunity to ask me to explain how to use this kind of tools
I don't think I know everything (and in fact my knowledge about these tools is somewhat superficial), but I only learn how to use this kind of stuff because in some situation in my past I came across some references to them and I took the time to experiment and read about them. In other words, we should use the problems as opportunities to gather more knowledge and to learn new things.
I keep receiving reports about problems without any useful information. My favorite ones are:
* I tried it and it doesn't work!
Surely I believe it doesn't work... But usually when something "doesn't work" it raises an error. Only rarely people include the error code/description. More often they include possible causes (usually not related to the error) than they include the error code or error message
* The process was hang! It was probably in some kind of loop! So I killed it
Well... processes don't "hang". They wait on something or they effectively stay in some loop. And the way to see that is by using the tools... And the tools don't work on a process that doesn't exist anymore...
* I've found a bug!
Sure... A bug is a malfunction. Something that works differently from what's documented or what is expected. Most of the times people find a problem. After some analysis (many times involving supplier's technical support) it may be mapped to a bug. People tend to expect something. If it doesn't happen they "found a bug". Usually they don't bother to read the documentation and try to understand the reasons for the unexpected behaviour.
Obviously people do hit bugs. Most of the cases that I open within IBM end up as bugs. But this is just a very small portion of the problems that customers report.
In short, I feel that in general, people's ability to study a problem in the IT world is very limited. Usually people spend more time trying alternatives than collecting and understand problem data. Error messages and codes are ignored many times. And all these translate into a big waste of time, and obviously money... And of course, this directly impacts the quality and availability of the IT systems.
I couldn't say it better myself...
A national Obamassment
Gordoom's attempts to fellate Obama are really becoming nauseating. The man is a fucking disgrace. The fucker needs to grow a set and stop trying to bask in the reflected glow of a third-rate statesman and first-rate Chicago politician.
Otherwise his legacy will be confined to articles like this.
Update: More lovely sexual imagery from (dare I say it?) Anna via Old Trollborn.
Otherwise his legacy will be confined to articles like this.
Update: More lovely sexual imagery from (dare I say it?) Anna via Old Trollborn.
Water on the moon
Giant drops are what you make
Water on the moon
I hope my cups don't break
Water on the moon
We could soak forever
Water on the moon
We could live together
Water on, water on the moon
Water back from your tap
Water on the moon
Water back from your tap
Water on the moon
Drips they hardly touch the ground
Water on the moon
The drips don't hardly make no sound
Water on, water on the moon
Some may say
I'm washing my days away
No way
And if its the price I pay
Some say
Tomorrow's another day
You stay
I may as well play
Giant drops are what you make
Water on the moon
I hope my cups dont break
Water on the moon
We could soak forever
Water on the moon
We could wash together
Water on, water on the moon
Some may say
I'm washing my days away
No way
And if it's the price I pay
Some say
Tomorrow's another day
You stay
I may as well play
Keep it up, keep it up
Water on the moon
I hope my cups don't break
Water on the moon
We could soak forever
Water on the moon
We could live together
Water on, water on the moon
Water back from your tap
Water on the moon
Water back from your tap
Water on the moon
Drips they hardly touch the ground
Water on the moon
The drips don't hardly make no sound
Water on, water on the moon
Some may say
I'm washing my days away
No way
And if its the price I pay
Some say
Tomorrow's another day
You stay
I may as well play
Giant drops are what you make
Water on the moon
I hope my cups dont break
Water on the moon
We could soak forever
Water on the moon
We could wash together
Water on, water on the moon
Some may say
I'm washing my days away
No way
And if it's the price I pay
Some say
Tomorrow's another day
You stay
I may as well play
Keep it up, keep it up
Lazy fucking cunt
I saw something today that really fucking stunned me. A bloke was walking along leafing through some kind of magazine. He finished with it, and even though he was two steps (literally, two steps!) away from a dustbin, he chose to prop in up on a window sill he was passing, where it would blow off in 2 minutes and contribute to the fucking enviro-loons nagging wankfest. So I fucking walked across the road, picked it up and threw it in the bin.
While this useless fucker was watching me from about 5 yards away.
Mate, I really, really hope you get face cancer and die screaming in agony.
You utter fucking cunt.
While this useless fucker was watching me from about 5 yards away.
Mate, I really, really hope you get face cancer and die screaming in agony.
You utter fucking cunt.
Ironic
I was reading this, and a particular sentence caught my eye:
Isn't that exactly what Bliar was like? Isn't that exactly why people were happy to see him gone?
I can see why the bogey-munching monocular mentalist would rather hang out with foreign heads of state, though. They're all equally useless, so they think he's a hero. Why would you want to hang out with a bunch of yokels who think that you are the second biggest cunt in the world, when you could hang out with "powerful and important" people who think you're the dog's bollocks?
As a libertarian, my idea of interacting with foreigners is limited to going on holiday or doing business. Multinational group mutual masturbation sessions are for social democrats, tyrants and other fucksticks. As soon as your country's leader is more focused on glory on the world stage than your pain at home, you know it's time for him or her (or "it", in our case) to go.
I know the Gorgon doesn't read this, but equally I know that people in Wastemonster and Whitehall do. So here's the thing: the boss has lost the plot, just like Bliar before him. The longer he stays in, the worse it's going to be. He's blown all that "at least I'm not Bliar" goodwill by, well, becoming Bliar-lite (or Bliar-fat, depending on how you look at it.) The manic mincing madman has already laughed off the idea that he might take Clarke's advice, so he's not going to go quietly or with any dignity, as I have written before.
And people, even the rank and file sheeple upon whom our politicians depend to keep them in power, do not care for this undignified spectacle. Unelected, unloved and unwanted, the Gorgon is going to lead the Labour Party in an abyss from which I doubt they will ever recover. The 26% of the population who currently depend on Labour largesse for their livelihoods will transfer their allegiance to other parties that offer the same largesse without the visibly appalling leadership.
So it's not all bad.
Brown is too focused on strutting the world stage rather than having a feel, as a leader should, for how this plays out on Main Street.
Isn't that exactly what Bliar was like? Isn't that exactly why people were happy to see him gone?
I can see why the bogey-munching monocular mentalist would rather hang out with foreign heads of state, though. They're all equally useless, so they think he's a hero. Why would you want to hang out with a bunch of yokels who think that you are the second biggest cunt in the world, when you could hang out with "powerful and important" people who think you're the dog's bollocks?
As a libertarian, my idea of interacting with foreigners is limited to going on holiday or doing business. Multinational group mutual masturbation sessions are for social democrats, tyrants and other fucksticks. As soon as your country's leader is more focused on glory on the world stage than your pain at home, you know it's time for him or her (or "it", in our case) to go.
I know the Gorgon doesn't read this, but equally I know that people in Wastemonster and Whitehall do. So here's the thing: the boss has lost the plot, just like Bliar before him. The longer he stays in, the worse it's going to be. He's blown all that "at least I'm not Bliar" goodwill by, well, becoming Bliar-lite (or Bliar-fat, depending on how you look at it.) The manic mincing madman has already laughed off the idea that he might take Clarke's advice, so he's not going to go quietly or with any dignity, as I have written before.
And people, even the rank and file sheeple upon whom our politicians depend to keep them in power, do not care for this undignified spectacle. Unelected, unloved and unwanted, the Gorgon is going to lead the Labour Party in an abyss from which I doubt they will ever recover. The 26% of the population who currently depend on Labour largesse for their livelihoods will transfer their allegiance to other parties that offer the same largesse without the visibly appalling leadership.
So it's not all bad.
Beyond comment
And after the nearly heart-attack-inducing paroxysm of laughter, I found that this headline truly was way beyond any comment I could make:
I wonder how the Daily Mash are going to slaughter him, or if they will just leave it at this?
Nick Clegg: I want to be Prime Minister
I wonder how the Daily Mash are going to slaughter him, or if they will just leave it at this?
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Better late than never
The MPC has twigged that Gordon's Green Shoots (TM) are just a flash in the pan:
I have long been of the opinion that we're heading into a lovely double-dip recession thanks entirely to the snot-munching fucktard and his delusions of adequacy. It doesn't matter who wins the next election, we are so utterly cunted it's going to take a fucking decade to pick up the pieces.
If we're lucky.
Minutes of the MPC’s September meeting highlighted rising unemployment, weak domestic demand, banks’ balance sheets, weak bank lending, high levels of public debt and global imbalances as factors which threaten recovery.
“There had been some promising indications from asset markets,” the MPC noted in the minutes, “but the lesson from previous financial crises was that they were not resolved quickly, and that there could be false dawns.”
The committee voted 9-0 in favour of leaving interest rates on hold at 0.5pc and its quantitative easing (QE) target unchanged at £175bn. Sterling rose against both the euro and the dollar after the minutes were published.
The unanimous vote was in contrast to the September meeting of the MPC, when Mervyn King, the governor, along with two other colleagues voted in favour of extending QE by £75bn to £200bn. They were outvoted by a majority of six who preferred a smaller £50bn extension to £175bn.
I have long been of the opinion that we're heading into a lovely double-dip recession thanks entirely to the snot-munching fucktard and his delusions of adequacy. It doesn't matter who wins the next election, we are so utterly cunted it's going to take a fucking decade to pick up the pieces.
If we're lucky.
A false dawn?
I see Stephen Hesford has flicked a V at Barrenness Cuntland and done something approaching honourable. I'm sure he will not lose a lot of his troughing privileges, but at least he's made the manic mincing madman look like a cunt and hopefully the egregiously entitled erminer (with her fake baubles) will take the hint and fuck off.
I seriously doubt it, though. Seriously, can you see any of the top table of Labour ever doing anything remotely honourable? Ever?
I seriously doubt it, though. Seriously, can you see any of the top table of Labour ever doing anything remotely honourable? Ever?
Joined up government ...
... all over again:
Fuck's sake, these cunts want to run every fucking aspect of our lives but can't organise the simplest thing themselves.
Cunts!
Most wanted criminal escaped after applying for new passport
Fuck's sake, these cunts want to run every fucking aspect of our lives but can't organise the simplest thing themselves.
Cunts!
The walrus of love ...
... gets sharks hot and horny!
If it's that Jamie Oliver, I hope a fucking zebra shark gets jiggy with him, next.
"We are absolutely delighted that Zorro is finally getting it together with his intended but the courtship rituals of the zebra shark can appear quite violent and some guests have been a little alarmed," says deputy curator Jamie Oliver.
If it's that Jamie Oliver, I hope a fucking zebra shark gets jiggy with him, next.
Things you don't expect to read
“Our opinion is that the Swedish Armed Forces should have ordered good, flame-proof underwear”
What???
What is it with the police and photos?
This is something I've written about before, but after the Met issued some "clarification", I thought it had gone away.
It seems that it hasn't:
What a load of bollocks. All the fucker had to do was take the guy to one side, tell him what was going on and it would all have blown over. Instead, PC Dick Rambo went off on one:
So, has he been sacked? Don't be stupid!
Fuckers. I blame that mental druid for their overweening arrogance and cack-handedness.
It seems that it hasn't:
The response we received to our original questions came from a Superintendent Shaw, who wrote: "The officer had valid operational concerns about the vehicle being identified via the media and endeavoured to explain his concerns. Given those valid concerns the officer had to be guarded in the explanation he provided at the time. The officer did not object to being photographed and throughout sought the journalist's cooperation."
This appears to be the police equivalent of a public immunity defence, insofar as the Superintendent hints at the police officer having the power to act as he did – but that for reasons of operational concern, he needed to be guarded in any explanation he gave of the law. Again, it is not an answer to any of the key questions in respect of the legality or otherwise of the police officer's actions.
What a load of bollocks. All the fucker had to do was take the guy to one side, tell him what was going on and it would all have blown over. Instead, PC Dick Rambo went off on one:
Steve Farrell, a reporter for MCN, can be heard repeatedly asking the police constable to explain what legal powers he has for preventing him from taking such a photograph - and the police officer can be heard repeatedly ignoring the question. Then, when Farrell takes a photograph, the police constable allegedly snatches the camera from his hands in order to view the picture.
So, has he been sacked? Don't be stupid!
North Wales Police are quite happy to assert that the law is what a police constable says it is – as opposed to what is written in statute. This is backed up by a polite note from their Press Department
Fuckers. I blame that mental druid for their overweening arrogance and cack-handedness.
Welcome home! Part 2
Now the light switch in the other bathroom has decided to pack up.
Fuck.
I'm sure it's personal, you know!
Fuck.
I'm sure it's personal, you know!
Is your printer spying on you?
Well ... maybe not actively, but passively, it could well be:
I wonder what it will take for people to actually get sick of the government sticking it's fucking nose into the lives of EVERYONE for the sake of nobbling a handful of fucking thieving cunts, crooks and thugs?
FUCK OFF!! JUST FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING FUCKS!!!
Click here to see a list of naughty printers. Tip of the clown wig to Clive for fucking up my day all over again by bringing this shit to my attention.
When you print on a color laser printer, it's likely that you are also printing a pattern of invisible yellow dots. These marks exist to allow the printer companies and governments to track and identify you -- presumably as a way to combat money counterfeiting. When one person asked his printer manufacturer about turning off the tracking dots, Secret Service agents showed up at his door several days later.
I wonder what it will take for people to actually get sick of the government sticking it's fucking nose into the lives of EVERYONE for the sake of nobbling a handful of fucking thieving cunts, crooks and thugs?
FUCK OFF!! JUST FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING FUCKS!!!
Click here to see a list of naughty printers. Tip of the clown wig to Clive for fucking up my day all over again by bringing this shit to my attention.
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
Banned from Twatter?
Good lord! It looks like my twatter account has been suspended.
I'm crushed. It means I'll have to start blogging again.
I'm crushed. It means I'll have to start blogging again.
The undead turns 50 ... again!
Hip hip hurrah!
And COBOL apps are still being written by people who know what the fuck they are doing, unlike C# or .NET mongs.
And COBOL apps are still being written by people who know what the fuck they are doing, unlike C# or .NET mongs.
I can't see why more countries don't emulate us
Yes, we all love socialised medicine. It's all free*, don't ya know? Lovely. Mind you, there are one or two minor issues:
Because it's all "free".*
*I know it's not fucking free. But there are actual dimwits out there who think that the fact that they don't need to take their wallet with them is a fucking good thing.
Cunts.
But the real decider is the market. And until doctors feel financial pain as a consequence of their incompetence, it will never get better. And the guys who do know what they're doing will never stand out.Doctors were making mistakes in up to 15 per cent of cases because they were too quick to judge patients’ symptoms, they said, while others were reluctant to ask more senior colleagues for help.
While in most cases the misdiagnosis did not result in the patient suffering serious harm, a sizeable number of the millions of NHS patients were likely to suffer significant health problems as a result, according to figures. It was said that the number of misdiagnoses was “just the tip of the iceberg”, with many people still reluctant to report mistakes by their doctors.
Because it's all "free".*
*I know it's not fucking free. But there are actual dimwits out there who think that the fact that they don't need to take their wallet with them is a fucking good thing.
Cunts.
Kunts of the road
There is a (all-too-brief) stretch of the A14 where HGV's are not supposed to overtake.
You, fuckwit cocktard in the fucking HGV that passed three fucking signs notifying you of this, this fucking means you too.
Cunt.
You, fuckwit cocktard in the fucking HGV that passed three fucking signs notifying you of this, this fucking means you too.
Cunt.
Fuck!
So, not content with shipping me off around the world last week to stay in 5-star hotels and ogle young ladies on their night out, my employer now insists on me doing more work.
CUNTS!!!
CUNTS!!!
Saint Vince and the feet of clay
Hurrah! The media have finally started to notice that St Vincent of Cable is talking out of his arse. Pity it's only the Mail. But this man was trained economist, working for über-capitalists, Shell. I can only assume that he was gang-raped by the board or something equally horrid to make him come up with the loopy idea of taxing people for their possessions.
What a fucking cunt!
PS If you don't already read Simon Carr, you absolutely should!
What a fucking cunt!
PS If you don't already read Simon Carr, you absolutely should!
Monday, 21 September 2009
Three to one in favour of punchy
I'm fucking impressed that B&D managed to vote as many times as they did though!
Blogging coma
OK, so all my good intentions were fucked by the 800 blog posts I had to catch up on and the 2000-plus emails I had to delete, ignore or reply to.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe tomorrow.
Moet et Chandon Marxists
The union leader ordered by Wislon to remove his tanks was of course Hugh Hughie Scanlon, the Marxist president of the Amalgamated Engineering Union from 1968 until 1978. "For most of his career he was the wild man of the Far Left, bogeyman of the Right and a vociferous critic of ermine-clad politicians, particularly the Socialist variety. Indeed, he had called the Upper House a "bastion of privilege". Naturally enough, on his retirement Callaghan offered him a peerage - for services to a grateful nation. And naturally enough, he accepted. Just like our old friend my Lord Kinnockio. Why do we put up with this again?
Who fucking knows? But when I see cunts like BevaniteEllie on twatter, I know that those exact same fucking cunt archetypes are still here today.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
Welcome home!
Ah, lovely, my shower has just decided to try and electrocute me.
Fuck. More money down the drain!*
*Did you see what I did there?
Fuck. More money down the drain!*
*Did you see what I did there?
Air travel, again!
Just got back from Malta. What a fucking blast that was.The trip back wasn't too bad, even though I knew I'd be seeing the inside of that hellhole called Heathrow again.
But two things stood out for me:
1. The Air Malta breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, beans and a snorker. Well, I assume it was a snorker. Because it really did look so much like a shrivelled up penis that I just couldn't eat it.
2. We got "racked and stacked" over Heathrow for 20 fucking minutes. That's 20 fucking minutes of totally needless, wasted flight that achieved nothing for anyone but the avgas supplier. Which "Green" cunt wants to tell me that we don't already need more runways, or more capacity in some way, shape or form?
Of course, it being fucking Heathrow, once we'd landed, we spent another 20 fucking minutes taxiing via the London Eye, Windsor and the Isle of fucking Wight before we docked with the terminal, so that we could then enjoy the 12-mile hike to collect our bags and get the fuck out of there.
Bliss!
PS The whole of Malta's airside seems to have free WiFi. Which I thought was pretty cool.
But two things stood out for me:
1. The Air Malta breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, beans and a snorker. Well, I assume it was a snorker. Because it really did look so much like a shrivelled up penis that I just couldn't eat it.
2. We got "racked and stacked" over Heathrow for 20 fucking minutes. That's 20 fucking minutes of totally needless, wasted flight that achieved nothing for anyone but the avgas supplier. Which "Green" cunt wants to tell me that we don't already need more runways, or more capacity in some way, shape or form?
Of course, it being fucking Heathrow, once we'd landed, we spent another 20 fucking minutes taxiing via the London Eye, Windsor and the Isle of fucking Wight before we docked with the terminal, so that we could then enjoy the 12-mile hike to collect our bags and get the fuck out of there.
Bliss!
PS The whole of Malta's airside seems to have free WiFi. Which I thought was pretty cool.
Friday, 18 September 2009
Malteasers
I'm sitting outside a restaurant in a shopping centre in St Julians called Bay Street. The food is great, and the place is really buzzing, I don't think I've seen anything like it.
But the thing I've never ever really seen is such a sea of fucking gorgeous women, I mean like supermodel gorgeous. Whereas on a normal night out, you may see a handful of absolute babes and a sea of munters, here there are literally a sea of babes and a handful of munters. It's unbelievable. I've seen Vogue magazine shoots with a higher proportion of hippopotami.
And they have such style, they look hot as all fuck, but not a single one of them looks slutty. Even the ones that are "just" normally attractive are all dressed in such as way as to maximise their appeal without looking cheap.
Unreal.
And just think, I could be in Newcastle instead.
But the thing I've never ever really seen is such a sea of fucking gorgeous women, I mean like supermodel gorgeous. Whereas on a normal night out, you may see a handful of absolute babes and a sea of munters, here there are literally a sea of babes and a handful of munters. It's unbelievable. I've seen Vogue magazine shoots with a higher proportion of hippopotami.
And they have such style, they look hot as all fuck, but not a single one of them looks slutty. Even the ones that are "just" normally attractive are all dressed in such as way as to maximise their appeal without looking cheap.
Unreal.
And just think, I could be in Newcastle instead.
The good life
So, I thought I'd air a few thoughts on life in Malta.
My overwheming impression is one of "relaxedness". The driving is chaotic, but in a mellow kind of way. It's not like Italy where people are racing to be the first people there, wherever "there" is. Meetings with the CEO of my host are scheduled for 10 in the morning, everybody sort of pitches up at half past, has a good natter and some of their execrable instant coffee and then the meeting sort of happens until they start to talk about the weekend's football. They all seem to take stuff seriously, but don't stress about it. Lunch is a ten minute walk in the sun to a cafe which is just as relaxed as the CEO's office, but with better coffee.
I'm staying in a jolly nice hotel called the Phoenicia, which is absolutely great, but it has one downside. They can't make coffee either. There coffee isn't horrible, it just doesn't taste of anything at all. Well, yesterday's didn't. Today's coffee at least tasted like something, I just couldn't quite work out what it was. After last week's stint in France, where the coffee was uniformly excellent it seems that the Maltese still have to raise the bar a little here.
And fuck me, I have never been so lost in my life. After a couple of days of being shown around, I still don't think I could find my Fgura with both Merhba.
Stunning place, though. And the people are still old-school hospitable. I love it, I really do.
My overwheming impression is one of "relaxedness". The driving is chaotic, but in a mellow kind of way. It's not like Italy where people are racing to be the first people there, wherever "there" is. Meetings with the CEO of my host are scheduled for 10 in the morning, everybody sort of pitches up at half past, has a good natter and some of their execrable instant coffee and then the meeting sort of happens until they start to talk about the weekend's football. They all seem to take stuff seriously, but don't stress about it. Lunch is a ten minute walk in the sun to a cafe which is just as relaxed as the CEO's office, but with better coffee.
I'm staying in a jolly nice hotel called the Phoenicia, which is absolutely great, but it has one downside. They can't make coffee either. There coffee isn't horrible, it just doesn't taste of anything at all. Well, yesterday's didn't. Today's coffee at least tasted like something, I just couldn't quite work out what it was. After last week's stint in France, where the coffee was uniformly excellent it seems that the Maltese still have to raise the bar a little here.
And fuck me, I have never been so lost in my life. After a couple of days of being shown around, I still don't think I could find my Fgura with both Merhba.
Stunning place, though. And the people are still old-school hospitable. I love it, I really do.
Guest Post: Cuntrification by Bearded Clam
The city of a thousand trades has become the city of one scam.
In the next month alone there's going to be just over a thousand horrifically over priced & under sized bland as fuck city centre yuppie boxes released onto the Birmingham property market. A market, which is already saturated with thousands of unsold identikit commuter cages owned by developers demanding half a mil for the privillege of living in a poorly converted office block without parking or amenities, does not need this.
Aside from the obvious fact that there's so little demand for these over hyped commercial conversions, around 2% occupancy is standard at the moment according to the Birmingham Post showing just what a mark up there is on these things, they're fucking up the social fabric of the city.
As long as I've been around, both Birmingham and it's City Centre have been truly shared spaces. Granted the different ranks of society have their own niches & areas but everyone has been able to come together in the centre to do business with each other and in the course of that come across people, things and attitudes they normally wouldn't when cocooned in their own strata. It made the city an interesting and exciting place to be for everyone. Not anymore though.
As the fools and their borrowed money have rushed in from the provinces the city has changed drastically. Whole communities of business people have been priced out of renting commercial space whilst thousands of less than wealthy people's homes have been flattened and the people & communities they once contained scattered to the outskirts.
Where once we had a plethora of independent shops, restaurants and businesses supplying anything you could possibly want & things you never even knew existed we now have endless strips of the same old chain stores & faddy food holes hawking the same old shite to advertising victims stuck on the early adopter treadmill.
We used to have underground music, art and film scenes responsible for the birth of pop cultures varying from heavy metal to new romantic music. We had studios, clubs, cafes, theatres, cinemas, bars, gyms for everything from fighting to dancing all doing their own things without the shackles of extortionate rents dictating their every move. All gone under the wave of cunty gentrification that has flooded our city.
A tangible example:
This leviathan of cuntrification, along with it's average of 80-90 defects per apartment and astronomical prices, stands on the spot where there was once our city's first late licenced bar. The bar Circo, a word play on it's location, wiped out to make way for a tower of morons represents the same tragedy to Birmingham's vibrancy and life as the conversion of the Hacienda into cunt boxes does to Manchester. The same is true of the old Methodist church we knew as the Que Club, acquired by speculative developers & left to rot for years on end, and scores of spaces that were once full of passion and energy which are now full of Ikea furniture and iPods.
As if the wholesale destruction of a city's cultural identity isn't enough we also have to consider the fallout which will come when the bubble bursts. Not just in Brum, but in all of our cities.
When those living on low interest cry poverty and conspicuous consumption is consigned back to the pop culture history books what will become of all our million pound penthouses and Selfridges? Will they have communities to make sure they don't fall apart leaving huge chunks of our cities unwanted and unuseable, as has happened to the satellite towns? Will they fuck.
We'll be left with white elephants galore pining for the days when our cities had soul.
Originally posted here.
In the next month alone there's going to be just over a thousand horrifically over priced & under sized bland as fuck city centre yuppie boxes released onto the Birmingham property market. A market, which is already saturated with thousands of unsold identikit commuter cages owned by developers demanding half a mil for the privillege of living in a poorly converted office block without parking or amenities, does not need this.
Aside from the obvious fact that there's so little demand for these over hyped commercial conversions, around 2% occupancy is standard at the moment according to the Birmingham Post showing just what a mark up there is on these things, they're fucking up the social fabric of the city.
As long as I've been around, both Birmingham and it's City Centre have been truly shared spaces. Granted the different ranks of society have their own niches & areas but everyone has been able to come together in the centre to do business with each other and in the course of that come across people, things and attitudes they normally wouldn't when cocooned in their own strata. It made the city an interesting and exciting place to be for everyone. Not anymore though.
As the fools and their borrowed money have rushed in from the provinces the city has changed drastically. Whole communities of business people have been priced out of renting commercial space whilst thousands of less than wealthy people's homes have been flattened and the people & communities they once contained scattered to the outskirts.
Where once we had a plethora of independent shops, restaurants and businesses supplying anything you could possibly want & things you never even knew existed we now have endless strips of the same old chain stores & faddy food holes hawking the same old shite to advertising victims stuck on the early adopter treadmill.
We used to have underground music, art and film scenes responsible for the birth of pop cultures varying from heavy metal to new romantic music. We had studios, clubs, cafes, theatres, cinemas, bars, gyms for everything from fighting to dancing all doing their own things without the shackles of extortionate rents dictating their every move. All gone under the wave of cunty gentrification that has flooded our city.
A tangible example:
This leviathan of cuntrification, along with it's average of 80-90 defects per apartment and astronomical prices, stands on the spot where there was once our city's first late licenced bar. The bar Circo, a word play on it's location, wiped out to make way for a tower of morons represents the same tragedy to Birmingham's vibrancy and life as the conversion of the Hacienda into cunt boxes does to Manchester. The same is true of the old Methodist church we knew as the Que Club, acquired by speculative developers & left to rot for years on end, and scores of spaces that were once full of passion and energy which are now full of Ikea furniture and iPods.
As if the wholesale destruction of a city's cultural identity isn't enough we also have to consider the fallout which will come when the bubble bursts. Not just in Brum, but in all of our cities.
When those living on low interest cry poverty and conspicuous consumption is consigned back to the pop culture history books what will become of all our million pound penthouses and Selfridges? Will they have communities to make sure they don't fall apart leaving huge chunks of our cities unwanted and unuseable, as has happened to the satellite towns? Will they fuck.
We'll be left with white elephants galore pining for the days when our cities had soul.
Originally posted here.
Guest Post: The Public by Frances the Mute
Expansive one this. However, I will focus on just one particular facet of the publics retarded nature for this post. The public, in supermarkets.
As usual, I saunter off to my local supermarket for lunch everyday. I pick up my supply of fresh fruit, water and cheeky sandwich. I find the hour break from work either going for a walk or sitting in the car listening to music, gives me the impetus to actually trurn back up after the hour has finished. Needless to say, it's a special little break in the day for me.
Now, it's been infiltrated by special people. The public.
Maybe it's a knee jerk response to the promise of a Christmas shopping bonanza that is currently touting it's wares everywhere. But, the place has become over run with feckless mindless dullards; with no actual concept of a world revolving around them or spacial awareness.
Burrowing around like the vermin they are, stockpiling food for the inevitable nuclear winter that is November, they are becoming increasingly fucking annoying. Today saw a few incidents.
People fighting over the discount shelves for the rarest of all home cook pizzas; the one that tastes like a franchise pizza store pizza. A mad scramble for cut price houmous and courgettes. A veritable bounty, I think you'll agree...
After lifting my incredulous jaw up off the floor, I beat a hasty retreat to the fruit section for my daily banana fix. And there bless her, is someones gran - loose and in charge of a trolley. Quite why she finds the need to pull the trolley, instead of guiding it in the direction of her travel in front of her is patently best known only to her.
Of course, the first victim is Mr Polish Bricklayer from the site across the road. Shinned like a good 'un, you can bet he's going to ask his gaffer for some leg protection when he gets back to the site. Either that or a week off...
Next up and almost instantly after, is the three year old toddler on a leash to his mother. Naturally, the leash and an unsuspecting mother are no match for 50 kilos of indiscriminately guided steel. Yup, the kid takes a hit in the shoulder. Enough to put him on his ass and start crying.
I actually laughed at this one. I'm not a fan of the small people.
So, two down in mere seconds. Who's next? I have to admit, I was compelled to hang around and take valuable time out of my lunch hour, to see what precipitated next. Unfortunately it wasn't that exciting. She took out a small stack of apple crates. She still mananged to make a mess and the crates were heavy enough to offer resistance, so they blind twat actually made the effort to review what could possibly stop her expiditing her lethal trail to the checkout.
I felt like asking her why she was so fucking stupid, given the fact she had been on the earth much longer than I so it stood to reason she'd have a clue about shopping trolleys. But, decided against it. I'd probably end up in the local gaol house with a pending harrasment case hanging over my head. You can't say boo to a goose these days...
Old people...they don't just smell of piss you know
Originally posted here.
As usual, I saunter off to my local supermarket for lunch everyday. I pick up my supply of fresh fruit, water and cheeky sandwich. I find the hour break from work either going for a walk or sitting in the car listening to music, gives me the impetus to actually trurn back up after the hour has finished. Needless to say, it's a special little break in the day for me.
Now, it's been infiltrated by special people. The public.
Maybe it's a knee jerk response to the promise of a Christmas shopping bonanza that is currently touting it's wares everywhere. But, the place has become over run with feckless mindless dullards; with no actual concept of a world revolving around them or spacial awareness.
Burrowing around like the vermin they are, stockpiling food for the inevitable nuclear winter that is November, they are becoming increasingly fucking annoying. Today saw a few incidents.
People fighting over the discount shelves for the rarest of all home cook pizzas; the one that tastes like a franchise pizza store pizza. A mad scramble for cut price houmous and courgettes. A veritable bounty, I think you'll agree...
After lifting my incredulous jaw up off the floor, I beat a hasty retreat to the fruit section for my daily banana fix. And there bless her, is someones gran - loose and in charge of a trolley. Quite why she finds the need to pull the trolley, instead of guiding it in the direction of her travel in front of her is patently best known only to her.
Of course, the first victim is Mr Polish Bricklayer from the site across the road. Shinned like a good 'un, you can bet he's going to ask his gaffer for some leg protection when he gets back to the site. Either that or a week off...
Next up and almost instantly after, is the three year old toddler on a leash to his mother. Naturally, the leash and an unsuspecting mother are no match for 50 kilos of indiscriminately guided steel. Yup, the kid takes a hit in the shoulder. Enough to put him on his ass and start crying.
I actually laughed at this one. I'm not a fan of the small people.
So, two down in mere seconds. Who's next? I have to admit, I was compelled to hang around and take valuable time out of my lunch hour, to see what precipitated next. Unfortunately it wasn't that exciting. She took out a small stack of apple crates. She still mananged to make a mess and the crates were heavy enough to offer resistance, so they blind twat actually made the effort to review what could possibly stop her expiditing her lethal trail to the checkout.
I felt like asking her why she was so fucking stupid, given the fact she had been on the earth much longer than I so it stood to reason she'd have a clue about shopping trolleys. But, decided against it. I'd probably end up in the local gaol house with a pending harrasment case hanging over my head. You can't say boo to a goose these days...
Old people...they don't just smell of piss you know
Originally posted here.
Thursday, 17 September 2009
What a bunch of cuts
After reading Paul Waugh's report on the planned Labour spending cuts, I have to wonder about the sanity of our leaders. I mean, we've been spending money we don't have like drunken sailors on their first night back in port and the manic mincing madman and Call Me Dave are planning to cut back on spending by a whole fucking 10%? But only if you add up the cuts over the next FIVE FUCKING YEARS??????
Jesus, why bother? These fuckers really are fucking deluded, aren't they? It's like trimming someone's fingernails, when you actually need to amputate their gangrenous arm.
We really, really are SO fucked, aren't we?
Jesus, why bother? These fuckers really are fucking deluded, aren't they? It's like trimming someone's fingernails, when you actually need to amputate their gangrenous arm.
We really, really are SO fucked, aren't we?
Guest Post: I hate holidays because ... by CJ
Foreigners have decent table manners
Fuck me - the French sit at tables and hold conversations with each other. If they have children, they sit on chairs, are involved in conversations with the adults, use a knife and fork and are encouraged to be still and quiet if they are not the focus of attention. Even when there are twelve of the buggers sitting together only a gentle murmer prevails as they converse rather than constantly outshout each other.
By contrast the extended family of English mongrel sewer rats next door (including Nanna and scrawny "Hayley" with two sprogs of different hues) yelled, burped, failed to understand, miscommunicated with waiters and got the third sprog to "shut the fuck up" by first clouting it and then giving it a mobile DVD player to watch - AT THE CUNTING TABLE FOR FUCK'S SAKE.
They understand wine and are willing to pay for it. They order by name not price unlike the "I'll have a bottle of the 28 Euro stuff" requested in estuary English in another restaurant proudly displaying its first Michelin star.
Oh - and they treat waiters like skilled professionals rather than pond-life - unlike the Brits who will condescend and abuse at the first possible chance.
The bastards dress properly
Even the fucking Swiss seem to be able to co-ordinate their colours, wear clothes that fit and generally dress for the occasion.
After a fortnight of well dressed natives, the sight of the abundance of man made fibres at the Eurotunnel entrance was shocking. You could almost hear the snap crackle and pop as the pink fat Chelsea/Aresnal kit wearing clones waddled around snapping up last minute bargains.
And as for polyester shorts with zip-on legs for poor weather - either buy two pairs Wayne (one short, one long) or just fucking shoot yourself - you're beyond salvation.
Oh - and when dining in a decent establishment, shorts, sandals and creased polo-shirts are NOT de-rigueur. If that's your style fuck off to KFC you half witted proles.
They have cars
Real cars. You know - Audis, Renaults, Volvos, Fords. Three box designs with a wheel at each corner. They come in two types. New and shiny, or old and rusty with bits of gaffa tape holding the windows in place.
The minute you hit the M20 in Kent you are greeted by a plethora of odd shaped vehicles the size of chieftan tanks, or with blacked out windows, or sporting stickers, banners or flags, or with exhuasts and sub-woofers drowning out any other vehicle within miles. People don't drive cars here - they're just fucking mobile statements to make up for a total lack of personality.
Oh - and you can drive fast without the fear of hitting a jam or getting your collar felt by Plod. Granted, you pay for the privilege, but of you can't or won't pay the tolls, you'd be better off going to Butlins in the first place cunts.
And before I forget - lane discipline! Pull out, overtake and then return to where you started. It's not difficult it's not rocket science, but if everyone does it, it works a treat.
People smile
Yes really - they do. The bastards look happy. Even the chap cleaning the streets looks up for a quick "Bonjour" before going back to his duties - must be a higher quality of litter (no kebab wrappers, stale puke or broken glass there mate!)
You can have a quiet beer
A quiet beer - five or six if you like. Seated in a welcoming bar, served by a waiter or waitress. No loud music, no pushing no shoving. A total absence of glassy-eyed 'power drinking'. Decent stuff that tastes of something - not watered down piss or Wifebeater waiting to cause problems by sunset.
Fuck me I hate holidays
Not because I hate the sun, the people, the food or the atmosphere.
But because EVERY FUCKING CUNTING COUNTRY I GO TO REMINDS ME EVERY FUCKING DAY THAT WE LIVE IN A GOD FORSAKEN CUNT HOLE OF AN ARESEWIPE OF A CESS POOL THAT WENT DOWN THE U-BEND YEARS AGO.
By fuck I hate England and the English. We lost our way a long time ago and every time I go abroad, this vile self-centred chav infested scum hole looks less and less appealing.
Originally posted here.
Fuck me - the French sit at tables and hold conversations with each other. If they have children, they sit on chairs, are involved in conversations with the adults, use a knife and fork and are encouraged to be still and quiet if they are not the focus of attention. Even when there are twelve of the buggers sitting together only a gentle murmer prevails as they converse rather than constantly outshout each other.
By contrast the extended family of English mongrel sewer rats next door (including Nanna and scrawny "Hayley" with two sprogs of different hues) yelled, burped, failed to understand, miscommunicated with waiters and got the third sprog to "shut the fuck up" by first clouting it and then giving it a mobile DVD player to watch - AT THE CUNTING TABLE FOR FUCK'S SAKE.
They understand wine and are willing to pay for it. They order by name not price unlike the "I'll have a bottle of the 28 Euro stuff" requested in estuary English in another restaurant proudly displaying its first Michelin star.
Oh - and they treat waiters like skilled professionals rather than pond-life - unlike the Brits who will condescend and abuse at the first possible chance.
The bastards dress properly
Even the fucking Swiss seem to be able to co-ordinate their colours, wear clothes that fit and generally dress for the occasion.
After a fortnight of well dressed natives, the sight of the abundance of man made fibres at the Eurotunnel entrance was shocking. You could almost hear the snap crackle and pop as the pink fat Chelsea/Aresnal kit wearing clones waddled around snapping up last minute bargains.
And as for polyester shorts with zip-on legs for poor weather - either buy two pairs Wayne (one short, one long) or just fucking shoot yourself - you're beyond salvation.
Oh - and when dining in a decent establishment, shorts, sandals and creased polo-shirts are NOT de-rigueur. If that's your style fuck off to KFC you half witted proles.
They have cars
Real cars. You know - Audis, Renaults, Volvos, Fords. Three box designs with a wheel at each corner. They come in two types. New and shiny, or old and rusty with bits of gaffa tape holding the windows in place.
The minute you hit the M20 in Kent you are greeted by a plethora of odd shaped vehicles the size of chieftan tanks, or with blacked out windows, or sporting stickers, banners or flags, or with exhuasts and sub-woofers drowning out any other vehicle within miles. People don't drive cars here - they're just fucking mobile statements to make up for a total lack of personality.
Oh - and you can drive fast without the fear of hitting a jam or getting your collar felt by Plod. Granted, you pay for the privilege, but of you can't or won't pay the tolls, you'd be better off going to Butlins in the first place cunts.
And before I forget - lane discipline! Pull out, overtake and then return to where you started. It's not difficult it's not rocket science, but if everyone does it, it works a treat.
People smile
Yes really - they do. The bastards look happy. Even the chap cleaning the streets looks up for a quick "Bonjour" before going back to his duties - must be a higher quality of litter (no kebab wrappers, stale puke or broken glass there mate!)
You can have a quiet beer
A quiet beer - five or six if you like. Seated in a welcoming bar, served by a waiter or waitress. No loud music, no pushing no shoving. A total absence of glassy-eyed 'power drinking'. Decent stuff that tastes of something - not watered down piss or Wifebeater waiting to cause problems by sunset.
Fuck me I hate holidays
Not because I hate the sun, the people, the food or the atmosphere.
But because EVERY FUCKING CUNTING COUNTRY I GO TO REMINDS ME EVERY FUCKING DAY THAT WE LIVE IN A GOD FORSAKEN CUNT HOLE OF AN ARESEWIPE OF A CESS POOL THAT WENT DOWN THE U-BEND YEARS AGO.
By fuck I hate England and the English. We lost our way a long time ago and every time I go abroad, this vile self-centred chav infested scum hole looks less and less appealing.
Originally posted here.
I couldn't face it after comment four
Anthony Evans has a corking article here on the need to de-regulate the banks, in which he makes a couple of thought-provoking points:
Needless to say, this is eye-popping stuff for the average Graun-reader. In fact, my eyebrows raised at the idea of legalising insider trading, but I can actually see where he's coming from. However, the commentards over there are so fucking dumb than I couldn't get past the fourth comment:
Ignoring the functional illiteracy of this cocktard for a second, just relish the idea that he thinks the market is totally de-regulated. The financial institutions that were at the very heart of all this were and are so heavily regulated, they employ entire buildings full of people to make sure they are compliant with UK regulations, EU regulations, US regulations, industry standards, security standards, "plain English" standards, diversity standards, BASEL regulations, PCI requirements, ... the list goes on for ever.
It is this kind of dream-world, literally fantastical approach to life that makes me sometimes wish, just for a moment, that I could actually remove these people from the gene pool forever. These fucking twats represent the uncritical, woolly, bovine thought processes of the average government policy influencing, LibLabCon voting, soft-centrist cuntstain that has encouraged all this fucking irresponsibility from corporates sucking up to the government and allowed the government to continue with its "something has to be done" agenda.
These fucking morons are as much to blame for the current financial crisis as the fucking board of Lehman Brothers.
Get out of your fucking copy of the Guardian and go have a chat with a bank manager if you don't believe me, you useless oxygen thieving goat anus.
1. Legalise insider trading. The regulators have failed spectacularly. They did not foresee the systemic risk created by excess credit creation and over-leveraging, and it would be naive to expect any single organisation to steward an entire industry. Demonising hedge funds and banning short-selling miss the point since these are the ultimate protest vote for market participants. The meltdown of a year ago would not have happened had protesters been truly able to act on their knowledge; legalising insider trading would allow asset prices to integrate as much information as possible.
2. Repeal legal tender laws. When sovereigns control currency, they debase gold coins to augment their own coffers. When politicians control currency, they print money to monetise their debts. Even by giving control to independent central banks, we haven't found a way to protect the value of money, since there is still a monopoly provider with an incentive to inflate. The best form of consumer protection is competition, and commercial institutions should be allowed to offer currency to allow markets to determine the most effective medium of exchange.
3. Eradicate crony capitalism. The official narrative is that when Lehman Brothers failed, it sparked a crisis of such proportions that state action was the only way to prevent another Great Depression. But as we start to learn more about what went on behind closed doors, things become murkier. The haphazard manner in which some banks went bankrupt and others were bailed out probably has more to do with personal networks than economic necessity. But even if you have faith in the government to exercise its powers in the public interest, it simply doesn't have the knowledge to act. It's understandable that Hank Paulson put more emphasis on Wall Street than on conservative banks that spend less on lobbying, because that's the world he lives in. For the rest of us, these deals create regime uncertainty and weaken the power of markets.
Needless to say, this is eye-popping stuff for the average Graun-reader. In fact, my eyebrows raised at the idea of legalising insider trading, but I can actually see where he's coming from. However, the commentards over there are so fucking dumb than I couldn't get past the fourth comment:
The total de-regualtion of the market os what has allowed this pproblem to happen
Ignoring the functional illiteracy of this cocktard for a second, just relish the idea that he thinks the market is totally de-regulated. The financial institutions that were at the very heart of all this were and are so heavily regulated, they employ entire buildings full of people to make sure they are compliant with UK regulations, EU regulations, US regulations, industry standards, security standards, "plain English" standards, diversity standards, BASEL regulations, PCI requirements, ... the list goes on for ever.
It is this kind of dream-world, literally fantastical approach to life that makes me sometimes wish, just for a moment, that I could actually remove these people from the gene pool forever. These fucking twats represent the uncritical, woolly, bovine thought processes of the average government policy influencing, LibLabCon voting, soft-centrist cuntstain that has encouraged all this fucking irresponsibility from corporates sucking up to the government and allowed the government to continue with its "something has to be done" agenda.
These fucking morons are as much to blame for the current financial crisis as the fucking board of Lehman Brothers.
Get out of your fucking copy of the Guardian and go have a chat with a bank manager if you don't believe me, you useless oxygen thieving goat anus.
Bloody hell, even I understood that!
Mark Wadsworth has a belting post on how to reduce the pain of the benefits trap:
Well, there's a surprise!
But it turns out it's pretty damn fucking easy to sort all this out mostly using stuff that is already there!
Wow. Fuck. Still, it gives you an idea of why any government is so fucking useless at this kind of thing: their policies are needlessly complex, they're badly thought through, they miss the point and they're designed by fucking idiots.
Cunts.
although the background research is all spot on, the proposals are in fact complete bullshit.
Well, there's a surprise!
But it turns out it's pretty damn fucking easy to sort all this out mostly using stuff that is already there!
The only thing left to tidy up is the transfer of the 'rent' element of the PAYE from one government department (HM Revenue & Customs) back to the local authority in whose council house he lives, but that can't be rocket science.
Wow. Fuck. Still, it gives you an idea of why any government is so fucking useless at this kind of thing: their policies are needlessly complex, they're badly thought through, they miss the point and they're designed by fucking idiots.
Cunts.
Guest Post: Houseblingers by Johnny5
Whilst I appreciate the charm and depth of a nice old house, I much prefer a modern one which has been well designed and is surrounded with other similar houses such as in a new development.
It's nice to see uniform windows, doors and trimmings, rather than in a fifty year old street where 'Houseblingers' have set up shop.
The art of houseblinging probably started in Essex during the 80's, whereby the Builders and Taxi drivers, all dodging tax with the skill of a Matador in a red Gimp suit, had to find an outlet for the surplus cash, and without being capable of saving it for a rainy day, turned to buying tat to stick all over their sordid little homes instead.
As the Blingers started to multiply, so the DIY centres started to create more tat for them, and the whole process has become a tasteless joke, seen by everybody but the brainless blingmeisters themselves.
It really started with Mr Smith at No 34 putting a Kentucky Fried Door on the front of his ex-council house, in an attempt to prove to his neighbours that he was lord and master of his OWN house now, and didn't have to answer to the fucking council any more!
As soon as Jones at 41 managed to make an appointment with Ocean finance and get his badly misnamed 'home improvement loan' through though, things hotted up a little, and imitation leaded windows AND a Kentucky fried door were added, and just to ensure there was no mistake about who was the fucking boss, a wishing well was planted in the front hardstanding too.
Obviously, the tasteless chavs, driven into a frenzy of jealousy by these two 'Stately 'omes' realised the true value of enhancing ones own dwelling place in such a manner, and before long we saw Porches, George Cross flags, Gnomes, Fancy paving to park the Ford Granada on, Wrought iron gates to keep the remaining council tenants off the recently purchased Ranch, and even security cameras specifically designed to fool the neighbours into thinking there was something of value at the front of 'Chez Pleb'
You can just imagine the curtain peeker at No 32 looking over at the Camera exclaiming 'Ooh look, Ted's got a security camera now, that must be to stop the kids nicking bits out of his front garden...'
The snob value these cameras provide is nearly as good as owning a 1973 Jag V12 as far as the plebs are concerned...
Christmas is a time of deep joy for the Blingers, as their season moves into top gear, and the lights come out of the shed for a Vegas style frenzy of distaste and garishness. Houses literally creak under the weight of flashing reindeer, Illuminating Santas and Neon Happy Xmas signs, along with every nasty shitty type of ropelight imaginable. The heat generated by these cunts creations has been the sole reason we have not seen a white Christmas since 1983, and the only respite for the occupants of the house being the V12 Jag cooling fan taped onto the electric meter, which whizzes around at nigh on 20,000rpm...
The trouble is, none of these cunts have any taste, and going down the normal plebs 'biggest is best' mentality, all we see is a crude and garish attempt which eventually drags an area down to subterranean levels in terms of appeal.
The cunts.
Originally posted here.
It's nice to see uniform windows, doors and trimmings, rather than in a fifty year old street where 'Houseblingers' have set up shop.
The art of houseblinging probably started in Essex during the 80's, whereby the Builders and Taxi drivers, all dodging tax with the skill of a Matador in a red Gimp suit, had to find an outlet for the surplus cash, and without being capable of saving it for a rainy day, turned to buying tat to stick all over their sordid little homes instead.
As the Blingers started to multiply, so the DIY centres started to create more tat for them, and the whole process has become a tasteless joke, seen by everybody but the brainless blingmeisters themselves.
It really started with Mr Smith at No 34 putting a Kentucky Fried Door on the front of his ex-council house, in an attempt to prove to his neighbours that he was lord and master of his OWN house now, and didn't have to answer to the fucking council any more!
As soon as Jones at 41 managed to make an appointment with Ocean finance and get his badly misnamed 'home improvement loan' through though, things hotted up a little, and imitation leaded windows AND a Kentucky fried door were added, and just to ensure there was no mistake about who was the fucking boss, a wishing well was planted in the front hardstanding too.
Obviously, the tasteless chavs, driven into a frenzy of jealousy by these two 'Stately 'omes' realised the true value of enhancing ones own dwelling place in such a manner, and before long we saw Porches, George Cross flags, Gnomes, Fancy paving to park the Ford Granada on, Wrought iron gates to keep the remaining council tenants off the recently purchased Ranch, and even security cameras specifically designed to fool the neighbours into thinking there was something of value at the front of 'Chez Pleb'
You can just imagine the curtain peeker at No 32 looking over at the Camera exclaiming 'Ooh look, Ted's got a security camera now, that must be to stop the kids nicking bits out of his front garden...'
The snob value these cameras provide is nearly as good as owning a 1973 Jag V12 as far as the plebs are concerned...
Christmas is a time of deep joy for the Blingers, as their season moves into top gear, and the lights come out of the shed for a Vegas style frenzy of distaste and garishness. Houses literally creak under the weight of flashing reindeer, Illuminating Santas and Neon Happy Xmas signs, along with every nasty shitty type of ropelight imaginable. The heat generated by these cunts creations has been the sole reason we have not seen a white Christmas since 1983, and the only respite for the occupants of the house being the V12 Jag cooling fan taped onto the electric meter, which whizzes around at nigh on 20,000rpm...
The trouble is, none of these cunts have any taste, and going down the normal plebs 'biggest is best' mentality, all we see is a crude and garish attempt which eventually drags an area down to subterranean levels in terms of appeal.
The cunts.
Originally posted here.
Unintended consequences
An amusing little post at the ASI:
And this, to me, is just another example of why having some ivory-tower fucker make a decision about how we should all live our lives doesn't work out. It doesn't matter how fucking noble or apparently sensible your ideal is, you never, ever know exactly what all the consequences of your decision will be. Hectoring, bullying and nannying never have the answers.
I was interested – but not at all surprised – to read in The Times last week that cycle lanes actually make cyclists less safe. According to a study by the universities of Leeds and Bolton, cars drive far closer to cyclists where there are cycle lanes, putting them at a much greater risk of being hit. It's a classic example of the law of unintended consequences at work: when motorists sense that cyclists have their own designated lane, they don't go to such trouble to give them space.This is just the latest indication that government-inspired "road clutter" designed to make us safer on the roads often ends up having the opposite effect. The Dutch are probably the pioneers of this: the town of Drachten famously removed all traffic signals, and found that traffic flowed more smoothly and that accidents were reduced, not least at Laveiplein, a 22,000-vehicle-per-day junction next to a bus terminal.
But the technique has also been applied in London. As the Telegraph reported back in 2006: "Kensington High Street has been decluttered by removing barriers and simplifying road markings. Pedestrian accidents in the affected area have been reduced by more than 40 per cent." More recently, Ealing has followed suit, announcing that traffic lights would be removed from up to seven junctions leaving drivers to fend for themselves.
What this illustrates, ultimately, is the way in which spontaneous orders based on voluntary co-operation tend to be more efficient and effective than coercive ones based on government planning. Or to put it another way – letting people take responsibility for themselves usually works out better than having government take responsibility for them.
It also suggests that even in policy areas that seem so naturally the preserve of government planners, like traffic management, approaches based on individual freedom are well worth considering.
And this, to me, is just another example of why having some ivory-tower fucker make a decision about how we should all live our lives doesn't work out. It doesn't matter how fucking noble or apparently sensible your ideal is, you never, ever know exactly what all the consequences of your decision will be. Hectoring, bullying and nannying never have the answers.
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