Oct. 8th, 2016 12:33 pm
keresaspa: (Gus Goose)
Such is the regularity with which I go to Edinburgh these days that it hardly seems worth mentioning.

But let's anyway )
keresaspa: (Nina looking a tad pertubed)
In between the bouts of running around and waiting on phone calls that have dominated my life these last few weeks I recently discovered a shock few spare minutes which I proceeded to waste watching This Morning for the first time in several years. I know that at the best of times it was always an odd show but even by their standards it was out there. Pip Scofe and Willoughbooby were sat there as usual, facing some numpty who was sitting on the floor for some reason. It was then that I noticed said numpty was dressed head to toe as a fucking Dalmatian!

I've never been a Moral Majority sort of person and I know we're supposed to be terribly broad-minded and acknowledge and celebrate every perversion we encounter these days but I don't think I've ever had a hell-in-a-handbasket moment quite like the one I did watching some tosser in a dog-suit demanding attention for his weird ways. Apparently he was there to promote some "documentary", inevitably on Channel 4 (who apparently decided to take a rare break from kicking the poor and underprivileged for this dreck) about human pups, indicating that there are loads of these bastards wasting thousands on this crap. As I say to each his own but the more I encounter nonsense like this the more I am forced to concede that the human race has officially ran out of ideas and appears to be heading to the end of its natural purpose. What do you think, Julian?

My sentiments exactly, champ. See me about that spelling, though.

If I may I'll sum it all up with a bit of apt doggerel:

One, two, I smell poo
Three, four, dog-shite on the floor
Five, six, something about dicks
Seven, eight, this rhyme idea isn't great
Nine, ten, you're not dogs you idiots. No matter how much you spend on daft suits you're still men.

The scanning is a bit off but the message stands. If they really want to live like dogs de-ball the weirdos and then destroy them. Sheesh.
keresaspa: (Ivy the Terrible)
See the world, right? Can we just end it now? When things come to this it's hard to see what purpose there is in continuing.

So far reaction seems to be universally negative but I have little doubt that the brain-dead, technology-obsessed morons who make up the present generations will quickly sign up this crap in droves, just like they did with Facebook, geocaching, apps and all the rest of the pointless, snooping shite that everybody falls for hook, line and sinker. Fortunately my own continuing lack of a Facebook account means that I'll spared the slew of one star ratings that a gruff, technophobic, taciturn, Wednesday's child like me deserves but I'll say now that were I involved I would happily rate the two creators of this nonsense as one star people and even more happily describe them as the pair of complete and utter wankers that they are.

Orwell, you were miles off mate, as even you couldn't have imagined things would turn out as truly awful as they have. Sodom and Gomorrah times again.


Mar. 18th, 2014 08:24 pm
keresaspa: (Maurice Bishop)
If any American ever gets annoyed at the stereotype about their not understanding irony, just remember the reaction of your leaders to the recent Ukraine/Crimea debacle. We get Barry O standing up and saying that "there is a strong belief that Russia's action is violating international law" whilst his forces continue to illegally occupy Iraq and Afghanistan (to say nothing of the sovereign Cuban territory on which their concentration camp is housed). Then his stooge John Kerry informs us "I think that it is clear that Russia has been working hard to create a pretext for being able to invade further" when they invaded Iraq based on made-up stories about WMDs (not his administration admittedly, but they had several years to get out and they haven't bothered) before informing us that "brave Ukrainians took to the streets in order to stand peacefully against tyranny and demand democracy". Would that be demanding democracy through anti-Semitic pogroms or perhaps these brave heroes:

Everybody knows I'm no fan of Putin and his ways but this continuing nonsense that Ukraine is all about goodies vs baddies is really making my teeth itch. Invasions to protect the self-appointed interests of one country are wrong but when you are guilty of them time and time again you can't really start shouting the odds at somebody else for doing the same thing. And there are plenty of vermin on both sides in Ukraine but, just like they did in Syria, the western powers seem happy to turn a blind eye to that fact.

Mind you the British can hardly sneer at the Americans given William Hague's decision to stick his tuppence in. Land grab? Get the hell out of Ireland (and the Malvinas, the Chagos Islands and all the other parts of the world where you continue to force your imperialism on people) and maybe you can talk. Until then, shut up and get a bit of self-awareness.

Dun with it

Dec. 8th, 2013 06:47 pm
keresaspa: (Tiger Jeet Singh)
Dunmurry is a suburb of Belfast or Lisburn (depending on your perspective) that used to be a separate village but has now been swallowed up by the expansion of both larger settlements. It can essentially be divided in twain between the Catholic and Protestant parts, the former represented by the republican Twinbrook and Lagmore, the latter consisting of Dunmurry village and a couple of outlying loyalist estates that are strictly speaking in the village of Drumbeg but generally included as part of Dunmurry. Dunmurry is, frankly, a shitehole and stands alone as probably my least favourite part of the greater Belfast area with even the soul-destroyingly horrid Upper Knockbreda Road left in the shade.

Despite this, as part of my quest to visit every football ground of intermediate status or better in said greater Belfast area (I'm taking the limits of the Metro bus service as the edges for now, meaning that ten remain unvisited, a doable target by the end of the season), I found myself in the selfsame Dunmurry yesterday. Dunmurry Young Men play in Division 1B of the Northern Amateur League on a bit of grass that they have erected a fence around. Despite the fact that you can watch the match from the main road they still expect two quid entry at a level where higher up clubs often charge nothing. You then have to stand on a five feet wide gangway between a broken wooden fence and their clubhouse to watch a match taking place about twenty feet below in a hollow. As if the ground isn't a big enough dump some inconsiderate tosser decided that for the entire ninety minutes their hateful bastard of a dog would be free to run back and forward barking its head off and getting in everybody's way. The brute spent a good two minutes sniffing my crotch and wouldn't bugger off no matter how much I told it to do so, spending the rest of the time generally annoying everybody by marching back and forward and yapping non-stop. Call me old fashioned but if I'm expected to shell out two quid to watch a bunch of amateurs I really would rather not have to spend the evening removing dog hairs from my clothes into the bargain. I'm not a dog person (nor a cat person, or a children person or an anything that hangs around your legs making a nuisance of itself person come to that) so I really hate the tendency that some dog owners have of foisting their beasts onto everyone whether they want them or not. If you must bring a dog to a football match put a leash on it or better yet stay the hell away. Nuisances.

And, just to add insult to injury, no bus came for half an hour so I was stuck in Dunmurry for thirty minutes longer than I wanted to be. Thankfully though I have now ticked off both grounds in Dunmurry village and will, with any luck, not need to visit the godforsaken place again. Roll on next Saturday when I can be in the much more salubrious surroundings of the Monkstown estate. Much more like it.
keresaspa: (Julius Nyerere)
When did people (in this part of the world at least) start dressing their houses for Hallowe'en? The Christmas tack has been going on for most, if not all of my life - Johnny Adair and his chief hitman Stephen "Top Gun" McKeag notoriously had an annual competition to outdo each other with the tacky decorations on their Shankill pads - but now I see several houses festooned in witches, skeletons and "beware of ghosts" signs to draw attention to the fact that that most pointless of dates in the calendar is a few weeks away. I can recall some houses putting up the odd little thing on the night itself in the past but some of these have been up for several weeks and it has become an epidemic recently. Today's journey took me through west Belfast and out to the Twinbrook estate in Dunmurry for the match (Iveagh United 5 Bryansburn Rangers 2 with a massive delay due to a broken ankle for one of the Bryansburn lads in case you were interested, which you weren't) and for the entire journey the Hallowe'en bedecked houses were the most prominent feature in the otherwise unremarkable views. The Americanisation of culture is often a shame but, along with the practice of inserting the word "like" in the middle of a sentence (as opposed to at the end of a sentence, a fine old Belfast tradition like), I think the growth of Hallowe'en, with its pointless loud noises, its demands of money with threats of violence and the increase in annoying drunk people, is one of my least favourite aspects of it and the fact that it has now joined Christmas as a whole season devoted to worshipping at the shrine of consumerism is really rather depressing. What's the All Saints Eve equivalent of "bah, humbug"?
keresaspa: (Edwige Fenech)
Can people please stop placing the number sign before words, seemingly at random? It may be acceptable on Twitter but Twitter is not everything else and it just makes one look like a semi-literate brain-dead moron in any other setting.

Am I the only one who still indents addresses on envelopes? I had always been led to believe that it was the right way to go and yet nobody else seems to do it any more. I've no intention of stopping as I still feel it is the right way to go but when and why did it die out?

Why is there no word for the opposite of being in a hurry? As somebody who is chronically early for everything I am often frustrated at having no succinct way to express the notion that "I have an appointment in this area but it's in nearly two hours so I have to kill time but am still constrained". "I'm not in a hurry" or "I'm in no hurry" aren't good enough as they don't express the fact that you are still limited in your time to an extent. We (or at least I) need a new word for this. Lurry?
keresaspa: (Meg)
Two rather disparate, but nevertheless loosely related, stories made the news recently, which revealed rather more than the fact that anything will get reported during the silly season. In one story a bit of a fuss was kicked up when Newsnight presenter Jeremy Paxman hosted the show sporting a beard. Soon afterwards former singer/current celebrity Cheryl Cole inspired a further fuss when she took to the stage sporting a rather large collection of rose tattoos on her rear quarters. The decisions of both individuals have caused copious amounts of ink to be spilled as commentators both more and less distinguished than me queue to put the boot in/offer their support to the unlikely duo.

My personal take? Well, both stories just go to prove what a bunch of nosey, interfering, pass-remarkable little shits most people really are. What possible impact does it have on anyone's day to day life if Paxman grows a beard or Cole gets her rump tattooed? It's their business and it makes sod all difference to anybody what they do to alter their own appearance. Frankly were Jeremy Paxman to cover his chin in rose tattoos and Cheryl Cole to grow a beard on her arse it would be nobody's business, much less this. Why do people assume things like this are anything to do with them? Are people really still that small-minded and judgemental that they judge people based on tattoos or facial hair? As a member of both minorities I would like to say that they aren't but unfortunately I think a lot of people still are. There are few things I despise quite as strongly as snobbery and these are two excellent examples of that most horrendous of habits.

For my part I reckon Paxman looks better without the beard (he has a strong jawline on a long face, facial hair is just a distraction when you look like that) and Cole's tattoos are very nice (I don't go along with the received wisdom about "tramp stamps" and reckon women suit permanent marks just above their arses) but frankly why should either of them give a monkey's toss what I think? Or what anybody else thinks for that matter. Mind your own business and you'll have plenty to mind as far as I'm concerned.
keresaspa: (Brigitte Bardot)
Frankly I wouldn't normally dream about mentioning anything so flippant but if this vile creature believes that this is a heifer then frankly stick a set of horns on me and call me a bull. Good Lord, you couldn't make these morons up, could you?

And speaking of all things bovine (as I suppose I was in a roundabout way) am I alone in not seeing what all the fuss is about with regards all this horse meat nonsense. The crux seems to be that people who enjoy eating a huge dead animal with red flesh are absolutely repulsed by the thought of eating another huge dead animal with red flesh. Nonsensical. People baulk at eating horses for purely cultural reasons and frankly who doesn't look at a Shire or a Clydesdale and think that there would be a few decent cuts of meat in such an immense creature? Due to haemochromatosis and its large iron content my consumption of red meat is very low anyway but were I to find out that one of my few forays into being a beefeater actually meant I could eat a horse I wouldn't bat an eyelid. Frankly if they told me my last lasagne actually contained giraffe, antelope, elephant or any other big mammal I wouldn't give a monkey's toss (even if it contained monkey). Now can we stop flogging this dead horse and move on? Thank you.
keresaspa: (Starry Plough)
So the whole fuss about Catherine Middleton, the Duchess of Cambridge and the new Queen of Hearts having her dirty bags featured in French magazines and Irish tabloids then. For my part I've not seen the pictures in question. No, honestly. Despite my somewhat unjustified reputation as a bit of a dirt bird the scrawny, pasty Middletons do nothing for your correspondent so the close encounters of the blurred kind doing the rounds have no appeal for me. Rather though it has been the general reaction of shock, disgust and hand wringing that has got royally on my tits (no pun intended).

Let's face it, whenever you hear Richard Desmond trying to come off as a great moralist you definitely know something is wrong with this picture. This is the same Richard Desmond whose Northern & Shell company held the publishing rights to Penthouse in the UK and produced a slew of its own smutmags, including the famed Asian Babes. This is also the same Richard Desmond whose Northern & Shell company owns Television X, the home of such delightful family-friendly fare as "Feel or No Deal", "A Filthy Idiot Abroad" and "Gash in the Attic", and the Red Hot family of channels. And what, I wonder is the difference between Saint Catherine's jebs appearing in the Irish Daily Star and a million and one other z-listers like Kelly Brook having their perkies papped through long lenses and featured in the British Daily Star? OK, some of those desperadoes are in on the joke and are getting a cut from these pictures but others are not and Desmond has no qualms about invading their privacy (and given that a lot of these photospreads come from private resorts her being on the grounds of a private chateau when she bared all is no excuse either). There is quite possibly a case to answer about the rights and wrongs of featuring topless pictures for which permission has not been granted in newspapers at all (although the contrary argument - that if you make the choice to strip off in public you have to be prepared for the consequences - is quite compelling) but Richard Desmond is neither advancing that case nor in a position to do so. Instead he is indulging in a fine example of the contortionist's art by managing to tug the forelock and lick the royal arse clean simultaneously.

Middleton and her ilk have no complaints when they are using the press to further their own image and bolster monarchism through carefully arranged photo-ops. Put her and the Bigtooth Aspen alongside a bunch of starving cherubs from one of them loser countries and they will happily line up for every photographer going whilst the tabloid-reading lumpen smile and say "oh, aren't the Royal Family great helping the poor like that whilst sitting on billions of pounds worth of money and assets". But as soon it goes tits-up for them (no pun intended) they become all precious and start demanding the press only print nice puff pieces about them and be banned from daring to print anything else. And don't hand me that old jazz about her being new to this and not knowing what to expect. From the second she started knocking about with the human equivalent of Boehlkenchelys longidentata the photographers were stuck to her like limpets so it doesn't take a genius to work out that if the bra comes off they're going to be hanging about. It's a free press for all or it's not a free press; the law cannot make exceptions just because somebody is handed a position of false status through marriage.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no fan of the paparazzi but if you put yourself in the public eye you know what you are getting and it is the same for everyone. I will stand corrected if I am wrong on this but I'm certain that nobody held a gun to Middleton's head and forced her to marry Chipmunk Choppers so had she found it all a bit much she could have buggered off long ago and joined Koo Stark and other forgotten former House of Windsor squeezes in anonymity. As it is she chose a life of ludicrous wealth and decadence and the price she has to pay is that the readers of sleazy papers and magazines are going to be interested in her every bowel movement. Don't like it, keep 'em covered. Now perhaps Mr. Desmond can will come along and tell me what an immoral cur I am, or is he too busy promoting the latest series of "Nylon Nans"?
keresaspa: (Captain Mainwaring)
It's not always obvious from pictures, or even in person to be honest, but as a result of an accident with a glass door when I was learning to walk I am technically part of the facially disfigured minority. I'm no King Curtis Iaukea by any stretch of the imagination but there are at least two slices on my forehead. One of them is hardly noticeable due to age, as it has been more or less subsumed by a worry line, whilst the other is smaller but it is a straight up and down one and thus is not hidden by wrinkles. A third is slowly but surely emerging as the irresistible march of baldness continues to lay waste to my hairline. For whatever reason they all become more prominent in hot weather when the skin around them swells slightly and makes them appear that little bit deeper.

As I say they're nothing major at all but certainly they do contribute to people making judgements upon you. People are conditioned to see facial scars as a mark of danger and aggression and assume that the only way you can get them is from violence. Of course there are times when something giving you a bit of menace is a distinct advantage but there are other times when you are being perfectly nice and people still assume you are malevolent simply because of wounds you suffered years ago not healing properly. Nobody looks at a person with a missing fingertip or a limp or a gammy eye and thinks "what a bastard" but to some the very dint of having a facial scar makes one a dodgy son of a gun who you wouldn't want to bother with.

As such I am happy to big up the newly launched campaign against the portrayal of my deformed brethren in the cinema by Changing Faces. The stereotyping of the facially disfigured as evil by Hollywood is a tired cliché that reinforces negative assumptions about a group of people that have already suffered injury. Plenty of us hacked-up freaks are perfectly reasonable and nice human beings and there are plenty of bad slags out there amongst the perfectly visaged majority. Call off your tired old stereotypes and recognise my kind for the valuable contributions we make to society. Give me Gary Moore over Frank Iero any day of the week!
keresaspa: (Captain Mainwaring)
There was a time I enjoyed April Fools Day (at least I think there might have been) but it has become such a drag due to the sheer overkill of it all. Lying stories by media outlets have become so ubiquitous now on this day that I find myself doubting absolutely everything. OK so some are obvious, not least the Guardian's effort (like Shaun Ryder could have associated himself with David Cameron and ever shown his face round Manc again, unless he actually wanted his melon twisted for real), but so much that you read and hear has a grain of doubt to it that you find yourself questioning it all, afraid to look foolish lest it turns out to be some overpaid hack having a terribly original joke at the expense of the worthless plebs. Sure, I'm absolutely disgusted at the complete hypocrisy of the Conservatives and especially the Liberal Democrats but is it worth getting too worked about in case Chris Huhne pops up tomorrow to say "just kidding"?

Let's face it, like everything else, April Fools Day has become too contrived, too expected, too bloody commercial. The days when people genuinely got away with elaborate hoaxes like the spaghetti tree are over because, quite frankly, the whole format has had the arse torn out of it. In this digital age can they not just set in place filters to allow buzz-kills like myself to banish all this crap from our screens as quite frankly I'm not even convinced Falkirk actually won the Challenge Cup much less anything important. Bloody nuisance.

Hab bumhug

Dec. 24th, 2011 08:28 pm
keresaspa: (Snowman)
It can be a bloody irritating time of year can this Christmas lark. The constant throng of people everywhere, the irritating preponderance of drunken idiots all day long, bored children at large looking for trouble, the sudden and unexpected reinvention of the word "sleep" as a noun that can apparently be pluralised and resentful minimum wage skivvies being made to wear Santa hats in a heartless attempt to increase their humiliation. This also ignores the constant trips to Iceland to pick up forgotten food items for yours truly, a place that combines all of the aforementioned horrors under one roof (well, maybe not the "sleeps" one), offering no comfort at all, bar possibly the sight of spokeswoman Stacey Solomon grinning at you over packets of dead fish (hey, Solly might be rough as a roofer's glove but she has my two favourite face faults i.e. a big nose and a tendency towards being toothy. Yes I am an odd fellow).

Still worse things happen at sea and it is apparently the time for good cheer or some such so let's look on the bright side - at least "Last Christmas" and "Fairytale of New York" were given a bit of a rest this year. There'll be no snow, somebody will cry inEastEnders, you'll secretly hate those socks and you'll end up feeling more than a little nauseous but it comes once a year so you might as well make the best of it. Now to bed with you all less the big man with the white beard decides to give your house a miss this year. And let's face it Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without Kenny Rogers dropping in for a cup of tea and flies graveyard. Or the old pickled walnut obviously.

In the words of Clement Mark Moore "Happy Christmas to all...

keresaspa: (Tiger Jeet Singh)
The shops are apparently having it rough (poor dears) as the impoverished hordes being crucified by the ConDem junta suddenly find that it is harder to celebrate the birth of the Messiah by spending fistfuls of rhino on the over-priced and unnecessary tat with which they are packed. However it hasn't stopped the town reaching its usual agog state these last few days. If Dante's fourth circle of Hell is to be defined as Avarice then I think the closest he might come to finding it would be Castle Court in the fortnight before Christmas. People from the sticks who don't get out very often and don't quite know how to walk as a result, groups of morons standing in the middle of the street talking, ensuring that nobody else can get past them, not to mention the dreaded prams. I appreciate that the world is overcrowded and so we need everybody to have a lot more children to make up for the surfeit of people but at times like this when they know everywhere is going to be totally mental could they not put babies in those baby carrier things to save a bit of space? They can't ALL have bad backs surely and trying to get out of the way when three separate pieces of wheeled steel are converging on you is an experience that I would really like to see put to bed. That and the fact that so many people who push prams seem to have had lobotomies and so stand dead still in the middle of shop aisles, thus preventing everyone from getting past them. Is it asking too much to expect people to get a licence to pilot these things? New stream of revenue right there Dave, although I suppose it would mean attacking the breeders and we all know politicians find us childless freaks a much easier target for a kicking. Ideally I would avoid the town altogether but things need to be got and inevitably I will have to endure it tomorrow again when haemochromatosis demands its blood sacrifice and I find no way to access the Falls Road without passing through the city centre. Blood loss + prams = joy of joys.

I suppose I should also say something about Saint Barack (peace be upon him) delivering peace, demawkcracy and prosperity to Eye-raq but a) you all know my thoughts about all that by now and b) The Morning Star has already stated pretty much everything I think about so just read that and insert bits of oblique Belfast slang here and there and you'll have my take on it. Interesting too just how much Obama attacked the invasion when he was looking election but how much he is revelling in triumph now, some years later. Nobel Peace Prize well earned there Hussein.
keresaspa: (Trotsky)
One of the grand old men of Red Clydeside John Maclean, found his wavering faith in the value of the trade union movement as an instrument of real social change reinvigorated by a visit to Belfast in 1907. Witnessing the tens of thousands involved in dock strike convinced Maclean that in the trade union movement real revolutionary change could occur. Were Maclean's ghost to rise and visit the same city today I suspect his faith would obliterate after the non-event (here at least) that was the public sector strike. For my part that is down to a number of problems, varying from the lack of a single union to the fact that many of those worst hit by the cuts are non-unionised and even the fact that the aims of the strike are not only unambitious but a little on the selfish side. One big problem however was the response of a lot of the union members who, rather than picketing treated today as simply a day off and spent it swanning about the town getting in each others way. Too many of these people have been bourgeoisified and, rather than being the radical trade unionists that Maclean hoped for, swan about in their cars and their fancy middle class houses and speak of nothing except their job, their kids (the word Children being illegal now), their holiday, their car and anything else, as long as it involves them. Obviously people are entitled to care about their own lives but equally people don't exist in a bubble and the sort of self-absorbed bastards that too many people now try to be like will never effect real change. Plus alongside the general rubbishness of too many trade union members is the general rubbishness of the trade union movement as a whole and the concept of this one day strike. Since Margaret Thatcher onwards, including under the government of the so-called Labour Party, trade unions have been castrated time and time again to the point where there is sod all they can do now. Strikes have to be planned months in advance, solidarity has been eliminated to the point where there are always scabs lining up to cross the increasingly absent picket lines (no doubt because Charlotte "needs" viola lessons or some other self-absorbed, middle class reason) and the shift of employment into the hands of private companies specialising in "recruitment" (God, I hate that term in any context other than a military one) means that an army of non-union people in shitty terms exists to fill the gaps anyway, excluded and desperate for their bite of the middle class cherry. Besides what huge difference will a one-day stoppage make anyway? The powers that be called one of them easily enough because Billy was taking Kathy up the nave so sod all. Had the unions called a week or even month long strike then things might have happened but there are too many laws preventing that and too many members with one eye on Jonathan's new rugby boots for it to ever happen.

I've never been a syndicalist but I would happily settle for syndicalism if it came along. Unfortunately this was nothing even close to syndicalism but just a bunch of people taking a day off over pensions, happily ignoring the fact that the whole bloody system is rotten to the core and needs to be taken down. If this is the start of the revolution I rather fear that the finish will involve 4x4s and "property" makeovers.
keresaspa: (Robb Wilton)
Things have been running rather slowly round here recently and it seems to have been the result of yet another of those DDoS thingies. Well, sort of. The kids seem to call them attacks but this one hardly seems worthy of the name as it was a mildly annoying slight slowdown and one that I just assumed was being caused by my increasingly stuttering laptop, given that most websites take an age to load for me these days. Where in the past these attacks came in like a scud missile this was really an attack only in the same sense that somebody lobbing a paper cup in your general direction is an attack. Must try harder Dmitry as this was your lamest effort yet.

Still more important attacks were due to take place, given that the arbitrary assignation of dates in a calendar and time on a clock had decreed that obviously momentous upheaval was going to occur at eleven minutes past eleven on the the eleventh day of the eleventh month of the eleventh (give or take 2,000) year. Clearly therefore the Illuminati had to make their way to that most mystical of all places, the Great Pyramid of Giza and, invoking the arcane lore known only to the chosen few versed in the mysterious and grim ways of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon, the Egyptian Rite of Freemasonry and the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, were compelled to invoke the spirits of Tutankhamun, Pelagius, Avicenna, Buttadeus, Gotthelf von Hund, Mary Toft, Count Alessandro di Cagliostro and David Nixon and compel them to bring about a new era on both earth and the astral plane. Well, isn't it heartening to see that the advocates of mumbo-jumbo are as lily-livered as everybody else? They must be as apparently the great mystical rituals were halted by what sounds like little more than a velvet rope and a man in a peaked hat saying "sorry sir this area is out of bounds to coach parties". Organising popular uprisings to overthrow the might of thirty years of Hosni Mubarak's rule is something Egyptians can manage without a second thought but disobeying the rules in what is effectively a big museum? Not going to happen. So yet another day of massive cosmological significance arrives and ends up being just like all the others i.e. pretty mundane. You know, some day one of these prophecies will turn out to be right and won't my face be red for making fun of them all? Come to think of it there is another 11:11 to come in under three hours so do let me know if you happen to be passing Glozel and you bump into Joanna Southcott, Paracelsus and La Comte de St-Germain splitting a bottle of Thunderbird and 18 Ronson as I will have some humble pie to eat. I don't think it will happen though.

Must dash

Nov. 3rd, 2011 08:14 pm
keresaspa: (Default)
This Movember business that is the whole cheese these days is one that does rather fill me with mixed emotions. On the one hand an event that existed solely to raise both awareness of and money for men's health issues is a good thing as it is a noble and all too frequently ignored cause. On the other hand it does rather raise the age old problem of the dabbling amateurs wrecking things for the dedicated professionals. The clean shaven hordes out there seem to have it in their heads that one can become a moustachio or a beardy simply by not shaving for a while. On the surface, of course, that is true but at heart it is wrong as there is so much more to it than that. Proper facial hair is a long term commitment and not only do these fly by nights give the rest of us a bad name they make us true fungus faces look that bit less special. Already I have had a thumbs up and a "nice one, mate" followed by a smoothing down of the "moustache" (for which read bit of stubble vaguely hovering above the top lip) from a young Movemberite apparently under the misapprehension that my enormous walrus ensemble could somehow be grown in three days. In truth facial hair can take years to perfect as it is an exact science and an individual art rolled into one. Time must be spent experimenting with different styles to see which ones go with your face. A separate moustache and lower chin goatee may have looked the business on both Trotsky and Lenin but I had to abandon it after a mere fortnight as it just looked wrong on me. Similarly there are those styles that work with some haircuts and not others - try shaving your head and wearing a horseshoe moustache and you will find that it looks all wrong unless you go for a Telly Savalas cut and have a domed head.

The thing about a moustache is that it can say so much about a man's personality and as such needs to be thought about before being jumped into. A simple, uncomplicated top-lip moustache can, when combined with thinning hair and a good smattering of wrinkles, give a man a look that says "I'm blue collar and I can kick your arse so don't give me any shit". But grey it up a bit and add more volume and suddenly a very similar moustache can give a man the sort of dignified authority that you would want from anybody giving you difficult news. On the other hand darken it and thin it down and it tells you that a man might be worth seeing if you want some dodgy white goods, but don't leave your phone when you go for a slash. Indeed the moustache can be used to say quite clearly that a man is a suave cad, that a man is a cowboy biker killing machine, that a man is king of the lovers, that a man is cool as a cucumber, that a man is madder than a box of frogs, that a man is grouchier than Oscar with a headache or even that a man is an absolute legend. Heck such is the power of true top lip topiary that a man can even become his own moustache.

So the message should be that a moustache is a way of life, it is a statement of intent and it is very much for life and not just for Movember. Credit to those seeking to raise awareness but there are those of us who exist all year and your few days of stubble will not make you of our ilk as come December you will return to your bare faced conformity. Wear a moustache because you believe in it are and proudly thrust your under-nose tresses at the world as if to say "this is who I am" but do not wear it knowingly otherwise you are doing a disservice to your forefathers who gave their blood in the name of the moustache. Hier, aujourd'hui et demain - toujours la moustache.
keresaspa: (Nana Mouskouri)
I happened to overhear a most unusual snippet of conversation today when a lady turned to her paramour in a shop whilst they looked at a range of CDs and asked "she does look like a man, Dave, doesn't she - Nicole Slazenger?" For my part I detected three things wrong with the statement: (1) Slazenger is, I believe, a manufacturer of tennis equipment with said chanteuse actually being called Scherzinger; (2) clearly the answer is no but Dave felt the need to let the slur pass lest every argument end with "let Nicole Slazenger make your bloody dinner then"; (3) the lady who made the plainly wrong observation was herself hardly femininity defined, having as she did a voice several octaves below my own (no mean feat given my Johnny Cash tones and the fact I'm presently nursing a sore throat). Whatever makes you feel better, I suppose.

And speaking of people being made to feel good about themselves through self-delusion I do believe this St Paul's business has gone on long enough. Everybody knows my thoughts on capitalism but what the hell is picketing a church proving? To me the only thing it has demonstrated is that the so-called occupiers didn't have the balls to do the occupying that they claimed they would in the first place. The cops said don't go into the Stock Exchange but instead of defying them and charging the bastards anyway they pitch up on a church and disrupt one of the few public institutions to have been critical of excess in recent years. Meanwhile the stock market continues to trade as always, capitalism rolls on unperturbed and well meaning vicars are forced out by the sort of trustafarians who would be just as happy being part of flash mobs (one of my most hated of modern innovations) as supposedly battling capitalism. When the moment came to "occupy" the "occupiers" bottled it so either grow a collective pair and rush the scum in their stock exchange headquarters or piss off home and stop annoying people who are not to blame. The day capitalism falls I shall rejoice but if these are the vanguard of the revolution then exploitation is here to stay.

Feel wiki

Sep. 9th, 2011 07:12 pm
keresaspa: (Signor Rossi)
For all its faults I do love Wikipedia and believe that the idea of people collaborating on a grand resource of knowledge available for all is a fine one. However every once in a while something happens on that august website that makes you put your head in your hands and say "this is why so many people consider Wikipedia a complete joke". The latest instalment - credence being given to somebody trying to say that the article about Paula Wilcox should be deleted. Yes the same Paula Wilcox who from The Lovers to Man About the House to The Smoking Room and beyond has been a fixture of British television for nigh on forty years. That such a ridiculous proposal is even being considered rather than rejected immediately with the offending nominator severely kicked up the backside is simply playing into the hands of those who mock Wikipedia. Shameful scenes!

And finally a tip in the hat of the direction of Ms Caroline Lucas for her recent speech against the God-awful response of this horrendous government to the recent naughtiness. As long term readers will be aware I generally have no truck with environmentalists and their woolly ideas but the Honourable Member for Brighton Pavilion deserves credit for taking a stand against these scum and it is to the shame of that gormless twerp Ed Miliband in particular and the Labour Party in general that it is left to one person to be the only opposition to these filth. I see Cameron's latest wheeze in the junta's war on the poor is to take benefits from the parents of truant children. The mind boggles. I'll never understand monetarists - how can somebody who is apparently a human being be that much on the side of evil and so wholly and completely devoid of compassion? How long before Cameron and his Secret Society of Super Villains otherwise known as the Cabinet declare that poverty will carry a minimum six month sentence? Get these bastards out!


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