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April, 2011:


I am a careful man. I have to be for I am a warden of a religious building (yeah, fucking right!) which belongs to one of the “peace churches”. I am also now the designated first-aider. A day with St John sorted that. I sat next to a brace of lasses from the Hallé Orchestra. They were first-aiding because they did the away-days for kids from rough parts of Manchester. So first question our teacher asks is, “What risks do you think you have in your work?”. when it comes round to my table the first to respond is an Irish fella who looks like Hugh Grant who works in a solicitor’s office. He is in fact a solicitor. He is a bit stumped until I suggest “cardiac arrest upon seeing the bill”. That broke the ice! Anyway the two orchestral lasses… Well, one of them piped-up, “We work with poor teenagers from Manchester… So anything really”. As Josey Wales put it, “Reckon so”.

Anyway, and this is in a sense a response to RAB’s most excellent post just below. Kids. Kids eh? Kids! I am 37 and unbelievably childish but I got nowt on da kids. The children really are childish.I know they can’t help it and I only annoy myself when it is adults who believe utter wank. But for every tosser who studied the Mystery of Art in Fife there is a Nick and there is RAB – Physics and Law, Nottingham. That is a terrifying combo.

But to riff on what RAB said over a rather cheeky Merlot and a fag… Well a couple of weekends ago these disgustingly middle-class kids were driven in their C-Maxs here for the “children’s meeting” and all Hell let loose in the grounds and it is me that has to ensure these bundles of joy go home in approximately one piece. This is harder than you might think. You have to delete the natural “fucks” from the discourse for a start. Not least because “Don’t go in the fucking river” is both morally wrong and right. But even if it was right it wouldn’t work. What would work is if I took my pants down in front of the lads and lasses and asked them to look at the scar on my inner thigh… It’s kinda special and the sort of thing kids love. I was extremely lucky. That was a whisker away from my femoral artery. What else a rusty iron L-piece was close to (at 9.81m/s/s) doesn’t bear thinking about. Though I’d be seen as some sort of fiddler.

Nah… Da kids…
The kids loved it. They played in the garden and one of the lads said, “We’re building a prison for the girls from bamboo” (what I had cleared). Yes, dear readers, it was fucking Tenko on my watch. So this is a peace church and these are the most middle-class kids in Cheshire. And they are still little bastards.

Makes me proud to be English. Not even “peace churches” can stop the viiolence.

Don’t Anniversaries come round quick these days?

Well it was a very fine evening indeed. We had a friend of ours, and his 15 year old son round to dinner (Venison, yum yum). Good music was played and because the lad is becoming a man, his father and I did our best to disabuse him of all the bullshit  the educational system is trying to pump into him.

He believes, for instance, that secondary smoke kills at a hundred yards, that pot sends you mental, Alcohol is the brew of Satan, and that  AGW is a solid fact. This is what they teach in schools today you see.

So how come your dad and I are still alive then? we asked, while firing up smokes and supping fine wine, whilst the sprog was hanging out of the window mock coughing. We told him to think for himself and trust no-one without double checking their facts, least of all the Gubberment! I believe he is getting the message. When he gets a girlfriend, then he will know what it is to be human beyond the theory!

Yes a most satisfactory evening. They left around 12.

Then, just like last week the Avon & Somerset Helicopter turned up. Funnily enough, we had planned to have a meal in a little Bistro in Stokes Croft, but I thought better to stay in, as things might not be as “back to normal” as one would hope. How right I was.

This fuckwit organised a “Peaceful” protest  against the Tesco Express, which he then cancelled when he thought (jee people like this THINK!) it might get out of hand. What with fine weather, the weekend coming up and the Royal Wedding  hysterical spectacular to kick against? No shit Sherlock!

Well this time I went to see for myself. It’s just a five minute walk down the hill, across Montpelier station, down to Picton street and up to, well the junction with Cheltenham road where that  hell of capitalism and slavery, the new Tesco store is (Boarded up at the moment).

I get to the top end of Picton street and Plod in Riot Gear have it sealed off. I have a chat with various members of the crowd, who seem more amused than threatened, most have cans in their hands. I take a few pics (sorry haven’t downloaded them yet) and a few bottles get thrown from a squat, no not the  Telepathic Heights, there are several others, it’s that kind of scummy neighbourhood.

So no way through there, so I backtrack through the lanes and alleys that I know like the back of my hand, and come up onto the Cheltenham road from Bath Buildings. Also blocked off  by police , in full regalia and riot shields, dogs etc. Now I have a way  with the police, having worked closely with them for 12 years, and have no trouble at all from them. The masked one I talked to at that junction told me that they had all been on standby for hours in their vans hidden away just in case, but nothing had happened. They were all looking forward to standing down, when something kicked off. He didn’t say what exactly.

“But I thought the peaceful protest had been called off Officer?”

“Yeah, so did we. I guess a lot of people didn’t get the message, or didn’t want to”

And that is basically the truth. The Police would have been happy to be home abed, but the Wolfie Smith’s of this world still want mayhem. As I treked through the backstreets, trying to come up on the front line from another angle, I came across various groups of black clad hooded folk filling their pockets with bricks and bottles and trying to find another angle of attack. Flash them a smile and a V sign and you’re safe, but you know these wankers are just up for the Crack, bugger the cause, Tesco is just an excuse.

And just in case anyone tries to mention Race in all this, it  just  doesn’t come into it. While I was on walkabout I spotted five black Police officers  and not one black “Protester”.

Let’s see what space this latest melee gets in the papers tomorrow. None whatsoever is my guess.

Something nice from the mainsteam media.

As early moring Fox News does not presently exist in Britian (it has been taken over by Sky News for Royal Wedding reasons – errr if we wanted to watch Royal Wedding stuff could we not just turn on Sky News…..) I have been watching the financial stations.

I can not get Fox Business (“if you provider does not offer it, DEMAND it” – I have tried Neil Cavuto, I have tried. But my provider is Sky and they will only provide competitors to Fox Business not Fox Business itself), so I have been watching Bloomberg and CNBC.

Of the two CNBC is the less bad (Bloomberg basically thinks that the sun shines from the backsides of Comrade Barack and Fed Chairman Ben B.) and one even (just sometimes) gets a nice story (my apologies if the following story was really from Bloomberg the two stations are so similar, and I station hop, so I may be making a mistake)….

A gentlemen (a guest on the show) claimed he could still buy a gallon of gasoline for 13 cents – just as he could have done in 1931. And he had the coin to prove it.

Of course it was a silver coin (a 1931 90% silver coin – a quarter, 25 cents, if my memory serves).

I remember thinking “but that was before the Roosevelt regime….”

Almost as if he had heard my mental question (for the studio team asked him no such question) the gentleman went on….

“And the govenrment went on producing these basically silver coins till 1964-5 when the modern coinage was introduced – made from materials that have little value” .

That is true, I thought to myself, the Roosevelt regime launched its unholy war on gold – not on silver). Future archaeologists (if there are any) may not date the decline of American (and Western) civilization from what we call the “1930s” at all (as most of the coinage appears to be still sound), they may well date it from what we call the mid “1960s” when the coinage suddenly goes like that of the late 3rd century Roman Empire – base metal “washed with silver” (if even that).

“This buying of silver and gold is a very American thing…..” said someone on the studio team (he did not get round to saying “a very Glenn Beck, stroking your rifle, paranoid thing…”).

“No” replied the gentleman guest – “actually European investors buy twice as much physical gold and silver (per person) than Americans do.”

His company, of course, sells physical gold and silver – but it is worth noting that other forms of gold and silver are just PROMISES. One can not buy goods with promises that gold or silver will be delivered at some future time – not in a time of crises, which is the only time one would be trying to buy food or other goods with gold or silver anyway. So what is the point of “nonphysical” gold or silver?

At this point the various studio people (both employees of CNBC and other guests) started to agree that physical gold and silver was a “good hedge” (we do not buy it out of paranoia – we buy it as a rational hedge, an insurance policy….. BUT YOU DO BUY IT).

And the CNBC lady who was helping the gentleman with his coins suddenly seemed to get very attached to a silver coin (it seemed to get stuck to her hand), as she gazed longingly at the other silver and gold coins (American, Canadian – the nationality did not matter, only the physical content). The other people in the studio had similar expressions.

These people (both the journalists and the guests from other lines of business) regularly see bits of paper (or computer screens) with X zillion Dollars (or Pounds or Euros) written upon them. But I have never seen such looks on their faces before – only when they were looking at these physical objects.


The odd thing about the space elevator is it is so obvious. I thought of the idea independently when I was about fifteen. I even sketched it and did some rudimentary sums and the forgot. I really did. This is not a “Nick’s so clever” post. It is a Nick’s converging on the same track as almost everyone else who cares about this extraordinarily simple fact.

We are on one of eight planets. This blog is hosted in Brisbane. I have the money in my current account to be there with my posidrives (if they let them on the ‘plane) tomorrow (whatever that actually is in Brisbane). I am not a rich man. It is hardly exotic is it?

What is exotic is “up” not “around” (been there done that, got the postcard yet?). Now, don’t get me wrong some people are doing the right thing. LISA (or similar – gravity wave interferometer) looks like it might happen – eventually. I shall personally disembowel with the bluntest thing in my cutlery drawer any US President who cancels the Webb ‘scope (Hubble replacement) and “private space” is going great guns. The Aussies (bless ‘em) have even got a beer for space tourists! Just down the road from me Jodrell Bank will be the focus (not technically the focus but you know what I mean – “In’t the Universe like fukin’ brilliant our kid”! quoth Prof Cox) of the Square Kilometre Array. Yeah, the same Jodrell Bank that way back when this website had a black background was threatened with closure for the want of three million quid! Excellent! Excellent that it is happening at all and doubly so that it is happening on my doorstep. No, I’m seriously not saying government ought to hose monies at science but considering that it generally pisses it up the wall on things that very frequently are less than wasted….

What I’m saying is if the government has to spend your money (and mine) then I want it spent on true magnificence and not “obesity co-ordinators”. I can get fat off my own bat.

Back to me. Sort of. In 1995 I started my MSc in astrophysics (yeah, I have a dog in this fight but mine really is worthwhile – do I need to say why? If so I have lost you and you can grab your coat on the way out and basically I hope the door doesn’t bang your arse) at Queen Mary, London. I met a Spaniard there and you know what? She’d only written her undergrad dissertation on the space elevator! I was like wow! I really was. The idea, like so many others, like the Silbervogel or whatever had just been in the aether (which Einstein demonstrated doesn’t so much not exist as just not matter – ouch!).

Whether or not great minds think alike is irrelevant. Competent ones can do and we were far from alone. Both Agnetha and I had dreamed independently of something grand and this was not the meeting in a pub in Stepney of two geniuses. It was better than that for it was written on a beer mat. It was simply the realisation that it could be done and that we were not alone in conceiving this scheme. Yeah, I know it was not original but it honestly had been to me and her. That is my point. If the idea can occur without separate cause to the likes of me or Agnetha then…

… Maybe it’s a good one. Not an Earth-shaker. Not a Quantum Mechanics or whatever but basically, physically, (the engineering is as ever something else – I have have the greatest respect for engineers – they make dreams real – and that is way cool) absolutely obvious.

So I dreamed it up myself. And so did Agnetha. And so did so many others… It is a curious feeling you get at 22 when you have a scheme and look at the literature and discover it isn’t original. You get torn between not being the first to see the promised land and the reassurance that the promised land actually exists and your navigation was not so mad after all. But I was a true physicist so I was happy (my pride and evil are almost separate). You catch me in the right light and I am still that idealistic – though fleeting now. Anything that truly matters belongs to nobody by which I mean everybody of course.

No, it isn’t like being Abel Tasman – it’s something else. I can’t really explain it. It is the thrill of seeing the fire even if that fire is not you. It’s way cool anyway. God alone knows what it must felt like to be Einstein or Feynman. I have a picture of Richard Feynman at the Nobel awards “do” in ’65 and he’s in evening dress with a fuck-off cigar and a cunt-off grin. Feynman shared the 1965 Nobel for Physics. Chemistry, if you ask me (which you won’t), is just for gayers who can’t hack the mathematics of real scence. I mean really what is the point of chemistry. “It turns blue”. Whatever!

Anyway, back to my dream…

That really could be built for ten billion in ten years. The bill for a sports day in London is double that at least. Regardless of whether Boris Johnson plays “Wiff Waff” or not.

I just want to go home – that is always what I wanted – I’m verging on the paranoid on that score. But I won’t and neither shall you. It could happen technically but it just won’t.

Our dreams must outlive us I guess.

Just a bit of Fun…

Sick to the back teeth with the Royal Wedding, scumbag Politicians, cretinous Plod, or just fucked off with life in general?

Put a smile on your face with this.

Via my friend Paul Sax.

I Cannae Tek Nae More o’ This!

I flicked on the BBC News this morning and there was a load of crap on about the Royal Wedding. Specifically it was a collection of twats discussing clips of Royal Weddings of yesteryear. They focussed especially on Chuckles and Di. And how during the depths of economic despair back in ’81 it was exactly what the country needed and they with straight faces and the mere glisten to the eye reflected on how it was a “fairy tale”. I’d say more like a bloody nightmare seeing as Chuckles shagged Camilla the night before… Anyway it must have been cold-comfort to the 3 million unemployed but so what? They could take one day out of their cares and be uplifted (I paraphrase but that was the gist) and watch it on the telly (as long as the re-po man hadn’t been around – yet).

Marrying the man you love might be considered enough of a first for any woman. But on Friday at 11am, when Catherine Middleton steps into Westminster Abbey to exchange vows with Prince William, this commoner will become a true royal pioneer.

Kate will be the first royal bride to have a university degree, the first to have lived with her husband before marriage, the first to have a mother who used to be an air hostess, the first to be raised in a house that has a street number instead of a fancy name and a moat with swans. Whatever snobs may say about the suitability of the match between the middle-class Miss Middleton and the monarchy, there can be no doubt of one glorious fact: some day, she will be the first Queen of England to have fallen over at a roller disco in a pair of yellow hotpants.

Well at least she wasn’t wearing a thong and mini-skirt otherwise Compton and Woodlouse would be issueing a limited edition collectable, The Minge of Kings. Anyway, I know full-well Catherine of Braganza used to roller-blade in the nip down the long-gallery of Hampton Court Palace.

It is Kate’s only serious slip-up so far [Boom Boom!]. Not bad for a girl who has had to endure the longest job interview in history. Kate was 19 when, in 2001, she met William during their first term at St Andrews University. They became friends – and, eight months later, more than that. Fast forward eight years and Kate was two months away from her 29th birthday when their engagement was announced.

I dunno about the Royals but clearly Allison Pearson who penned this epically patronising bilge doesn’t live in anything like the real world. Patronising to everyone but especially to Miss Middleton. Does anything strike you as unusual about that relationship arc? Obviously it seems so to Ms Pearson and much the rest of the meedja hence the ridiculous, Mills and Baboonish “The Princess who Waited” narrative. And that “two months shy of being 29 (nearly 30!)” schtick is vomitus maximus in it’s sexism. Tell ya what! They should have just arranged a marriage to a virgin of good breeding in the manner of the Plantagenets because that worked brilliantly last generation.

Eight long years in which the quiet, sporty brunette, famous at school for her record-breaking high jump and tenacious character, earned the humiliating nickname of Waity Katie. Why didn’t the art history graduate use her brain and find herself a proper job, demanded the press. Kate’s failure to get a ring on her finger became a national joke.

“Humiliating nickname”? C’mon Ms Pearson you can’t pull that on off after the patronising drivel you have been spouting here – that’s down to you and your cronies. And “national joke”. Oh for fuck’s sake!

But, as a friend in the couple’s circle points out, to get the promotion to fiancée, Kate couldn’t risk accepting any job that made her look like she was cashing in on her boyfriend’s name: she was stuck between a hard place and a rock. And not just any rock; it was the £250,000 sapphire and diamond ring that had belonged to William’s adored late mother.

“Promotion”? Jesus wept! And you know it would have been totally unheard of for a member of the Royal Family or a hanger-on to abuse the name to get ahead. I mean William’s uncles in particular would never dream of such a thing. As to jobs for posh art history graduates it is all who they know anyway. So what! ’tis the way of things. Student lads, you want to marry into money, hang around the art history department. Packed with rich quim. Learn a few phrases first. Here’s one for free, “Carravaggio – simply magnificent in his use of chiaroscuro!”. That will get you at least tops and fingers. Or your money back!

Anyway. I seem to have drifted off topic and this article just goes on and on. If you want to read the rest it’s here.

I am deeply sceptical about an elected head of state (I can hear Mandy’s coffin lid creaking already) but I am piggy rotten sick of this meaningless fawning adulation from almost all the media wanking themselves into a frenzy over this sort of crap. And moreover I am severely fecked-off with the whole commoner motif.

Time to be citizens, take-up knitting and purchase a tumbril!

Vive la révolution!

The Impossible Astronaut

Spoliers sweetie…
It has aired in the UK/USA/Canada but net yet in Australia…
They’ll have to wait until after The Wedding.


No Income Tax, No VAT…

As you all will know by now, my twin passions are Music and Comedy. So it’s with a heavy heart I note that the creator and writer of the best British Sitcom of the last 30 years (actually probably all time), John Sullivan, has died at the cruely young age of 64.

Only Fools and Horses was a masterpiece of British Comedy, the episode which has Del Boy and Rodney finally becoming Millionaires was watched by 24 million people.

Like all the best British comedy, it was about Class and unlike much American comedy, was character driven. the characters were totally believable, we have all met or know people like Del Boy, Rodney, Grandad, Trigger and Boycie (Del Boy always reminded me of my late Father in law), they are all right from the central casting of British culture.

Sullivan always seemed to be in touch with Zeitgeist of the time. In Del Boy he created the man for the moment, a working class ducking and diving asperational Thatcherite. A man who was going to buy his Council House if he could. A man who had a dream and despite all the dodgy goods that had fallen off the back of a lorry, that he and Rodney would flog down the market, he was also a deeply moral man.

Sullivan, some will also remember, created Wolfie Smith, in Citizen Smith another series that chimed perfectly with the times. A barmy Che Guevara fantasist, and leader of the Tooting Popular Front.It launched the career of Robert Lindsay, who can now be found wasting his time in that excerable piece of shite, The Family.

Here is a clip of one of the funniest moments from the series, but please you out of UKers, just click on any one of the clips there, an be prepared to wet yourself, it is sheer comedy genius.

Farewell then John, and thanks for all the laughs. Your work, like that other populist that has passed the test of time, Shakespeare, will live forever.

Lost plot: last seen drowning in a steaming pile of misanthropy

I used to have a lot of respect for David Attenborough. He makes such amazing documentaries about the natural world. Unfortunately he is also a rabid malthusian and I don’t have any respect for that at all. For a scientist he is showing a remarkable degree of critical thought failure. Maybe it’s his age or maybe he’s just an obnoxious, greenie cunt. Liz Thomas in the Daily Fail reports on the article Attenbore wrote for the Staggers [no link].

Sir David Attenborough has warned that population growth must be stopped in order to offer a ‘decent life’ for all.

Yes, let’s not let poor people in third world countries breed.

The wildlife broadcaster said people were shying away from accepting that the world’s resources cannot sustain current levels of population growth.

And, in Gaia’s blessed name, let’s not let those same poor people have access to electricity and tried and tested GM crop technology to improve their miserable lot in life so they don’t have to keep producing kids to replace the ones lost to disease and starvation.

‘There cannot be more people on this Earth than can be fed,’ he writes in the New Statesman.

But that doesn’t include you, eh Dave? Nor your kids or grandkids.

‘The sooner we stabilise our numbers, the sooner we stop running up the down escalator – and we have some chance of reaching the top; that is to say, a decent life for all.’

So several billion people need to be removed from the equasion to make the plan work. Nice.

Sir David, 84, said the global population is over six billion and will hit nine billion in 30 years, but ‘there seems to be some bizarre taboo around the subject’.

There is also some bizarre logic around the subject too. Attenbore states the world can barely feed the population as it exists today. Yet apparently there will be sufficient food so that people can exist, breed and increase the population by fifty percent thirty years from now. Shome mishtake shurley…

He warned of a ‘perfect storm of population growth, climate change and peak oil production’, leading to ‘insecurity in the supply of food, water and energy’.

FFS! Where to start? Impending peak oil is a greenie shibboleth dating back to the first oil crisis in 1973 and recent massive offshore oil strikes continue to give lie to the claims. Greenies don’t want us using fossil fuels; we must use sustainable energy or Gaia will cry. Let’s not explore the real possibility that oil might not be what it is claimed to be. Is oil actually a fossil fuel or is its source abiotic in nature? Will we run out or will the Earth continue to replenish the supply? As for the perfect load of bollocks storm of population growth and climate change, maybe we should consult some of the 50 million climate refugees and ask their opinions. Oh wait…

‘We now realise that the disasters that continue increasingly to afflict the natural world have one element that connects them all – the unprecedented increase in the number of human beings on the planet,’ he added.

Because we all know that people shagging like rats in mud huts and shanties cause earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanic eruptions. As can the Chinese if they all endeavour to jump off identical chairs simultaneously.

‘All these people, in this country and worldwide, rich or poor, need and deserve food, water, energy and space. Will they be able to get it? I don’t know.’

What people need and deserve is the dignity to get on with their own lives without bastards like Attenbore and the ecofascists telling them they are surplus to requirements so please go away and die.

Sir David said there was a ‘taboo’ tackling the subject and that people shied away from stating the fact that a world’s resources cannot sustain current levels of population growth.

Yes, seeing images of tens of millions starving from failing world resources in the news every day is very harrowing. Or would be if it was true. Please feel free to ignore the real horror of tens of millions suffering and dying from curable/preventable diseases and war.

He said: ‘There seems to be some bizarre taboo around the subject. This taboo doesn’t just inhibit politicians and civil servants who attend the big conferences.

But it doesn’t inhibit you or any of the other people loathing malthusian fanatics does it Dave…

‘It even affects the environmental and developmental non-governmental organisations, the people who claim to care most passionately about a sustainable and prosperous future for our children.’

Maybe because there are actually honest environmentalists and humanitarians out there who realise that there are some lines you do not cross and some alarmist lies you cannot support. Something a misanthropic winnet like Attenbore fails to understand.

The 84-year-old praised controversial 18th century demographer Thomas Malthus, who argued that populations increase until they are halted by ‘misery and vice’.

Misery and vice have been with the human race from the time it swung out of the trees. So far these twin evils have proved to be an exceptionally crap form of contraception. This inconvenient detail makes Malthus look a bit of a silly twunt; just like his groupie, Attenbore.

‘The government’s chief scientist and the last president of the Royal Society have both referred to the ‘perfect storm’ of population growth, climate change, and peak oil production, leading inexorably to more and more insecurity in the supply of food, water and energy.’

All because scaring the UK population out of their knickers and charging them for the priviledge is Big Business. I’d take these rent seeking weasels more seriously if they provided some incontrovertible actualité to back up their claims rather than bullshit rhetoric and propa-fucking-ganda.

The global population is now in excess of six billion and is predicted to hit nine billion within 30 years.

I heard you the first time, Dave. I’m still waiting for you to explain how today’s failing world resources will sustain a 50% population growth thirty years hence.

Experts have predicted that the British population – which is currently around 62million – will increase to 70million by 2029.

Yeah, about the uncontrollable immigration into the UK problem. It seems the “experts” answer to that one is to do sweet Fanny Adams. No need to mention the fact that the birth rate of the indigenous population, that’s people like me and you Dave, is actually in decline because that would put a bit of a crimp in your Malthusiastic philosophy, wouldn’t it.

A report by the sustainable development group Forum For The Future said Britain would struggle to handle such growth. The increase in population would be ‘catastrophic’ and put unsustainable pressure on housing, schools and hospitals as well as natural resources.

Don’t make me laugh! Forum for the Future is a fake charity and will say what it is paid to say by its overlords major donor, the government. The very same government who holds the solution to the problem but lacks the intelligence, the balls and the political will to apply it.

Current trends will see a city the size of Bristol added to the population of the UK every year for the next two decades.

And will continue unabated until someone applies the brakes on immigration. It’s hardly fucking rocket science.

Sir David’s comments follow a similar warning from BBC wildlife expert Chris Packham.

People who pay their TV licences are subsidising this rancid, anti-people cockwaffle. Doesn’t that make you feel your money is being well spent?

The Springwatch presenter suggested offering Britons tax breaks to encourage them to have smaller families.

It’s not sensible, hard working Britons that are the problem. How about not rewarding the undeserving, life-long benefit whores who recreate and procreate at the taxpayers expense?

He effectively endorsed China’s controversial one-child policy, which sees couples who adhere to the rule given a lump sum on retirement.

Because that works so well in cultures and societies where misogyny and male domination is rampant. Let’s hear it for Chris Packham, gendercidal cunt.

But he stopped short of suggesting people should be penalised for having too many children.

Working people with more than one child pay more tax than those with one or none. How isn’t that punitive? And if they are working and can afford to keep their children fed and clothed what fucking business is it of Pakham’s, Attenbore’s any any other misanthropic scumbag?

Packham, 49, who has no children of his own, told Radio Times: ‘By 2020, there are going to be 70million people in Britain. Let’s face it, that’s too many.’

There’s obviously a Malthusian crib sheet doing the rounds. Saves the buggers having to form anything approaching an independent or critical thought.

He added: ‘There’s no point bleating about the future of pandas, polar bears and tigers when we’re not addressing the one single factor that’s putting more pressure on the ecosystem than any other – namely the ever-increasing size of the world’s population.’

This would be the same ecosystem from which people evolved, would it? Gaia played one hell of a blinder, huh?

Packham suggested offering couples a financial incentive as ‘a carrot’ to persuade them to have fewer – or no – children.

He said: ‘I would offer them tax breaks for having small families: say, 10 per cent off your tax bill if you decide to stick with just one child. And an even bigger financial incentive if you choose not to have a family at all.’

According to a BBC news article from December 2010 the average size of a British family is shrinking and the trend is ongoing. Yet two prominent BBC employees insist the exact opposite is true. This is reminiscent of alien hand syndrome but with cunts.

‘I question the way, for example, people have two children with one partner, then split up and have two with their next partner, just to even up the score.

That’s unadulterated bollocks by any standard.

‘Fact is, we all eat food, breathe air and require space, and the more of us there are, the less of those commodities there are for other people and, of course, for the animals.’

Fact is Packham and Attenbore hate the very people who put bread on their tables and fund their globe trotting lifestyles. Why do we tolerate and subsidise these bastards?

There’s A Riot Going On…

So that’s what the fuckin Police helecopter was all about.

The wife and I had just settled in, in front of the big telly to watch Tremors, the comedy horror film, when the Avon & Somerset Police chopper turned up and hovered over our house. Not an unusual occurence. We live in the very pleasant district of St Andrews, on top of a hill with spectacular views over the centre of Bristol.

As I keep keep telling friends who have never visited here, Bristol is a very beautiful and incredibly compact City. I can walk to all the good bits, like Clifton Down, the Floating harbour and all the best shopping areas within 20 minutes from my house.

But just 5 minutes walk down the hill are our ethnic areas of the Hippie district of Montpelier and the multi culti St Pauls (More later) and that is what the Chopper was watching.

Well the bloody thing was up there overhead for 3 hours or more, making so much racket that we had to close the windows cos we couldn’t hear the movie. Obviously something bigger than the usual mugging, burglary or car chase was afoot.

I started looking on the laptop to see what the fuss might be but nothing seemed to be being reported.But when I went to bed about 3am the bloody thing was still up there.

The fuss, of course was this. A riot was going on in Stokes Croft. The usual suspects, crusty’s anarchists, squatters have been protesting against the opening of a Tesco’s down there for years now. Nasty capitalist Tesco is deemed to be a threat to local businesses you see.

Um, what local businesses? There isn’t a food store worthy of the name in the whole road! There’s a couple of Massage Parlours, some very dodgy pubs and three nightclubs, but a food shop where you can get a loaf of bread and a few cans of beans nairy a one.

Stokes Croft is an armpit you see. 30 years ago it was the habitat of Irish drunks and Wino’s and there have been many attempts to “Improve” the area since, but it stubbornly refuses to be improved. It is still the road of choice for the Special Brew and substance abuse crews.

Anyway the years of protest were to no avail and the store opened. Well just like the Bolsheviks in 1917, the anarchist crusty squatters were not taking no for an answer and were preparing to firebomb the place. The Police raided the squat and it all kicked off.

April is the month famous for showers, but not of bottles, cobbles and molotov cocktails, but it seems a tradition here in Bristol, because the original St Pauls riots kicked off in April in 1980 with the first warm weather of the year. Getting your coat off and getting your eye in seem to go together round here.

Anyway, Happy Easter to you all. I’m off to Cardiff for the weekend.

Here is some decent video footage .

I am utterly sick to the back-teeth now…

We are currently at war in Afghanistan and Libya is spiralling out of control. The entire civilized world is in the financial naughty corner, we have a prime minister who thinks he can make it all go away by taking his wife on holiday via Ryanair and what do our biggest selling tabloids run with…

The Mirror:

Kate Middleton will not ‘obey’ in royal wedding vows – just like Prince William’s mum Diana.

I am shocked I tells ya! shocked!

KATE Middleton is set to follow Princess Diana’s example by ditching the word “obey” from her wedding vows.

Instead she is expected to promise to “love, comfort, honour and keep” Prince William when they tie the knot next Friday.

Kate, 29, and Wills, 28, discussed the wording with Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams.

He said: “They have a very simple, direct picture of what really matters.”

Unlike, oddly enough, Rowan Williams who is by a country mile the most obfuscating fucker ever of woman born.

KATE Middleton was applauded last night for her decision to “do a Diana” and refuse to say the word “obey” in her wedding vows to Prince William.

In keeping with the couple’s thoroughly modern outlook, she is expected to shun the archaic promise – just like Princess Diana did 30 years ago.

Kate and Wills have also been warmly praised for the “simple and direct” way they have planned their wedding.

Just like Diana did 30 years ago and that’s a “thoroughly modern outlook”! Well, if that’s the case then fuck fixing PCs because I’ve got a ZX-81 to sell ya mate! Alan Sugar only crapped on it once, honest! I have been to a number of weddings since Chuckles and Di made their solemn vows before Archbishop Runcey (with Camilla’s lady-fat still gently congealing on the Royal Generative Member) and I have never heard anyone promise to obey anyone. This is not “ground-breaking”, this is just life. And you know what? I have no animus contra the royal family (apart from that useless twat Eddie, that sponging quarter-wit Fergie, her epically corrupt demi-husband Andy, that prune-faced moo Anne and that utterly despicable cunt and future “Defender of Faiths” Prince Chuckles of Tampax). Apart from them I’m not a republican. By which I mean I don’t frigging care – and if William and Catherine are happy with the sort of wedding vows that have been commonplace since I thought Lego was the coolest thing ever then it still is. But “simple and direct”. Oh, behave! It’s not like my wedding shut down central London or invited the King of Cambodia….

The Sun blares this…

King Norodom Sihamoni has not replied to the couple’s wedding invitation.

He is the only Royal out of dozens worldwide who has failed to respond.

Sihamoni, 57, a shaven-headed former ballet dancer and instructor, is not the first Cambodian king to snub a British royal wedding.

Send in the Typhoons Dave! He is clearly some form of Leo Sayer!

In 1963 his dad Sihanouk refused to attend Princess Alexandra’s wedding after being told he would not get a guard of honour and could not stay at Windsor Castle.

The utter cad!

1963! Why am I thinking of Harold Wilson and the white heat of Cambodian diplomacy or some such?

IT’S the biggest social event for 30 years – and The Sun can today name hundreds of the top guests due to attend next week’s glittering Royal Wedding.

It clearly is because I’m not invited.

The Sun says…

Viscount Althorp – William’s cousin. The son of Princess Diana’s brother Earl Spencer.

Miss Isabella Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe – Stunning friend of William.

Miss Helen Asprey – The couple’s personal private secretary.

Mr and Mrs Rowan Atkinson – Comedian and Mr Bean actor, and his wife Sunetra.

Mr Harry Aubrey-Fletcher and his wife, Hon. Sarah Louise – William and Kate’s close pals.

Miss Annabel Ballin – Party planner is a friend of Kate’s.

Mr and Mrs David Beckham – Footballer and his pop star wife Victoria.

Doctor Holly Branson – Daughter of tycoon Sir Richard.

Mr and Mrs Fergus Boyd – William’s flatmate at St Andrews University.

Miss Jessica Craig – One of William’s former girlfriends.

Miss Chelsy Davy – Prince Harry’s girlfriend.

Mr David Dugmore and Mr Roger Dugmore – Safari park owners from Botswana.

Mr Mark Dyer and his wife Amanda – One of Prince Harry’s best friends.

Mr Ben Fogle and wife Marina – Telly star and a friend of both William and Kate.

The Lord and Lady Jane Fellowes – William’s aunt. The sister of Princess Diana.

Alexander Fellowes – William’s cousin. The son of Jane.

Eleanor Fellowes – William’s cousin. The daughter of Jane.

Miss Rosie Farquhar – One of William’s former girlfriends. An actress.[Dear God!}

Mr Rupert Finch – One of Kate’s former boyfriends.

Miss Alicia Fox-Pitt – One of Kate’s oldest friends.

Ms Daniella Helayel – Kate’s favourite fashion designer.

Miss Olivia Hunt – A former girlfriend of William.

Emilia d’Erlanger and David Jardine-Paterson – Emilia is Kate’s old schoolpal. William and Kate went to couple’s wedding last year.

Mrs Tiggy Legge-Bourke and her husband Charles – William’s former nanny.

Mr and Mrs James Lowther-Pinkerton – Part-time private secretary to William and Harry.

Captain Jack Mann – The polo-playing son of British mercenary Simon Mann.

Mr Willem Marx – One of Kate’s former boyfriends.

Lady Sarah McCorquodale and husband Neil – William’s aunt. Princess Diana’s older sister.

Miss Emily McCorquodale – William’s cousin. Daughter of Sarah.

Mr George McCorquodale – William’s cousin. Son of Sarah.

Miss Celia McCorquodale – William’s cousin. Daughter of Sarah.

Mr Harry Meade and wife Rosie – Showjumper.

Mr and Mrs Edward Milbank – Old friends of William.

The Hon James Tollemache – Childhood friend of William.

I think I want to go in a corner and puke. For I have run out of hyphens.

The Daily Fail does it again…

At 29, Lisa Head had one of the most dangerous jobs in the world – an Army bomb disposal expert in Afghanistan.

She was among just a handful of highly skilled women soldiers trained to save the lives of countless troops and civilians by finding and disarming improvised explosive devices, or IEDs.

Displaying nerve and bravery, she took the ‘long and lonely walk’ to dismantle with her fingertips bombs that had been designed to murder and maim.

But on Monday tragedy struck. Captain Head was horrifically injured when a Taliban booby trap bomb she was trying to disarm blew up.

That’s from the online version.

She was subsequently CASEVACed to Selly Oak, Birmingham and died of her injuries there.

The front-page headline of the paper version says, “Army girl killed defusing Taliban bomb”. Captain Head was 29, an explosive ordinance expert, and held the Queen’s Commission as an Army Captain. By almost no resonable definition could she be called a “girl”.

The Daily Mail is not quite The Express – do they still use the tag-line “The World’s Greatest Newspaper”? – which is probably true by their own deranged metric.

Captain Head died doing her duty. That she is only the second British woman to die in the Afghan war is irrelevant because she was a soldier. That she was a “girl” is frankly terribly patronising. At a deeply underlying level one of the fundamental reasons we are at war in Afghanistan is the appalling sexism of the place. That, in some sense, is what NATO, male or female is fighting against. We are fighting people who don’t want girls to learn to read let alone become military officers.

At checkpoints for explosives British (and other NATO) soldiers conducting searches on the burkha-clad have had to strip to their bras because otherwise the searched wouldn’t believe “their” women were being searched by women too. I mean how can a woman carry a rifle and wear trousers? Or even that Captain Head issued orders to men! That is just how medieval the place is and that is almost the line of The Fail.

It is just part of it but not being sexist is a big part of why we ought to win.


The makers of Real Water say tap water is ‘damaged’. Rebecca Hill asked a chemist and nutritionist what they made of the claim.

This is going to be fun… And I won’t make much use of a chemist or nutritionist to enjoy myself here. What a foul thought anyway! Everyone knows the best looking lasses in the science faculty are in maths or biology, sometimes physics. But chemistry! And nutrition! Nutrition! The only role they have in enjoyment is prolonging the sexual act by thinking of “Doctor” Gillian McKeith sniffing a salad-dodger’s turd.

“Did you know that most of the water you’re drinking every day may actually be damaging your health?”

Yeah, inhalation of even a small quantity can be fatal. That’s why they call it dihydrogen monoxide.

This is the bold claim made by Nevada-based Affinity Lifestyles. Fortunately, they have the solution: Real WaterTM with E2 technology.

Water exported from Nevada? I’ve heard everything now.

The Real Water website describes how the water we drink – from the water I have in my glass right now, to the water you made your cup of tea with this morning – has been “damaged”.

Riiight… Apparently it is endorsed by Paul Oakenfold, FRS DJ. Well I guess Oakenfold knows water being a DJ and therefore, from my experience, having the intellectual capacity of something you find dredge from a pond.

In an attempt to blind the reader with science, there are reams of misplaced claims and pseudo-facts. Take the claim that “many food and beverages … are devoid of electrons” – which would make it an entirely new state of matter.

This is not the time to mention Bose-Einstein condensate is it? You know there are six states of matter and this is not one of ‘em?

Real Water doesn’t appear to be a hoax or the work of Chris Morris and co. I’ve had confirmation from a US store that they stock the product and I have got as close to buying a 24-pack of Real Water ($36 + p&p) as is possible without comitting my credit card details.

$36! Even my snake-oil is better value! And that is made from real snakes. Well, worms actually, but who cares! Bit short of snakes in England. We have no venomous spiders, no sharks, wolves, bears and the last time anyone died from an adder bite (our only venomous snake – apart from Homo-reptilia mandelsoni, obviously) was the 1970s. Our largest native predator is the… badger! So be afraid!

According to the company “most of the water we drink is very acidic … many nutritionists believe that most diseases flourish and grow rapidly in an acidic environment.”

That is a stunna! Since shortly after the dawn of time people have been preserving food by keeping it in acid. It’s called pickling. It works because most pathogens don’t like acid. Oh, and dilute ethanoic acid (or vinegar as it is usually called) is perfectly fine – even in salad dressings! The last time anyone died because of it was when Hannibal took his elephants over the Alps.

In fact, tap water is very slightly acidic because small amounts of carbon dioxide in the air dissolve in it.

Carbonic acid it’s called.

The makers of Real Water claim that during its journey through various pipes, filters and other treatment systems normal water is “stripped of its electrons”, causing them to “clump”, which prevents them from hydrating our cells. Even worse, the water molecules are now “basically free radicals … [which] literally zap or pull away life force from the cell.”

That is “science” on the level, roughly of geomancy or demonology. There is a technical term for such “scientific” claims – utter bollocks. I’m sorry to get technical there as I’m aware some readers don’t have A-Level Chemistry.

The E2, or Electron Energized, technology supposedly “adds hundreds of millions of free electrons” to “unclump” the water and give it an alkaline pH.

“Unclump” as a scientific term? The nearest I can think of is Umklapp (which in the German literally means, “flip-over”) but is proper science – solid state physics and seeing as this is a blog post it’s scientific validity is proven by the fact I am writing this and you are reading it using devices using doped semi-conductors. I am there assuming none of you still have a Difference Engine like the Cats’ server in Queensland. Upside-down cogs – that’s what this site runs on.

Now “hundreds of millions” might sound big (it’s almost a bailout) but in the context… Avagadro’s number is of the order of 1023 and for “hundreds of millions” we are talking 108 so that’s like fifteen zeroes off and that is for a mole of water which is roughly 18 grams of the stuff or 0.036 of a standard half-litre bottle of water. Those fifteen zeroes mean something like 1 in a petamole (be careful, they have sharp teeth and nasty claws!) of the water molecules is “re-electronized”. And that’s their claim! If it comes down to court-room fisticuffs that might actually be quite clever.

Oh, ye Gods – it just rolled up – Mel B, the erstwhile Spice Girl and noted lion of inorganic chemistry drinks it too!

I asked Real Water about the treatment, but public information officer Xzavia Ross said: “Our process is proprietary so there really is no way we can disclose the process by which we add electrons to the water.”

Er… right… It’s so kick ass they haven’t even filled a patent? I have known a few patent officers. They tend to have a background in science and the law and would literally choke on this hog-wash.

The Guardian writer tried the website’s section “science articles” only to find, “coming soon”. Undeterred the hack phoned them…

Ross said: “Since you have familiarised yourself with our website you should know that … the pH test is a wonderful indicator with scientific evidence of alkalinity.”

Oh, just wow!

Why am I reminded of Del Boy (and Coke’s Disani – remember that?) bottling Peckham tap-water? Or indeed – via the ‘sleb endorsements my own dear Uncle who once – I am not making this up – sold a pink rabbit to Kerry Katona. Apparently Jordan (aka Katie Price) also got one for her blind son Harvey (yes, Harvey – I know – the irony meter has hit FSD). Now I can understand a loving mother buying a furry pet for her kid but if the kid is profoundly blind from birth does the colour of the pet matter? Anyway, the pink rabbits were only pink-ish and that because, damn me, I shall reveal his secret… He fed ‘em on the stuff they use on fish farms to turn salmon pink. But wait! He claimed they were a new breed of bunny and their offspring would inherit pinkness. I think he really believed it but what my serial con-man uncle really believes is most charitably described as “quantum”. Yup, a geezer whose clinical-psychologist (for the defence on another case which involved 3.6 million quid going south) described as having a reading ability barely able to cope with a Sun frontpage had just re-discovered Lamarckism! He was charging over five hundred quid a bunny mind and enough daft sods fell for it for him to buy a Merc. There is a reason Charles Darwin* was buried in Westminster Abbey and my Uncle spends frequent periods in less salubrious state-owned facilities. And, oh, hung for a sheep as much as a lamb… amongst his other schemes was selling tar water (really) and a 23-hole (yes!) golf course on a remote Scottish island. He was going to design that himself despite never having played a round in his life.

*Interesting tit-bit on Charles Darwin. The pall-bearers at his funeral were…

George Campbell – The 9th Duke of Argyll
William Cavendish – The 7th Duke of Devonshire
Edward Henry Stanley – The 15th Earl of Derby
James Russell Lowell – The American Ambassador to Britain
William Spottiswoode – Mathematician, physicist, the Queen’s Printer, and friend of Darwin
Joseph Dalton Hooker – Darwin’s close friend and champion of his Theory of Evolution
Thomas Henry Huxley – Darwin’s close friend and champion of his Theory of Evolution
Alfred Russel Wallace – Darwin’s friend and the co-founder of Natural Selection
Sir John Lubbock – The 1st Baron of Avebury, Darwin’s next door neighbor and close friend

Very conservative and against such radical ideas like we’re related to monkeys those Victorians! Note also the US Ambassador. And we laugh at them for being anti-science? And then buy “real Water”…

Exactly what it says on the tin…

Some websites (and almost all businesses) have focus-grouped names. I mean by rights (are they still going?) ought to be a place to buy and sell elephants and not car insurance. Other websites though are truly focussed and this is the case with Kim Jong-il looking at things. Or indeed Cats that look like Ron Swanson.

This is Kim looking at fruit…

What fascinates me about that image in particular is that whilst the side of the fruit stand facing Kim is laden with produce the side facing us looks a bit sparse. The Russians might have had Potemkin villages but it takes the true Juche lunacy of North Korea to have created the Potemkin fruit stand.

It reminds me of Warsaw just after the Berlin Wall fell. Everyone was selling bananas. They’d just come on the market again. There was a reason you hadn’t been able to get a banana in Poland short of selling your daughter’s virginity to the Cuban embassy for some time but I forget what it was. Collapse of a sweetheart deal with Cuba maybe? Something like that.

Anyway, you know what gets me about these images of Comrade Kim looking at things? They remind me of pictures of Prince Charles looking at things. You’ve got that same gormless, “Why am I here, what the Devil is it?” look about the images. Apparently Comrade Kim’s “Happy Place” is watching DVDs in his private cinema with a large scotch*. I dunno where Prince Charles’ “Happy Place” is but it certainly isn’t anything public is it? But then there is an essential tension here. Two very private individuals are also inveterate sticky-beaks. It must torture them so. Charles clearly would love to be popular but just isn’t. I’m sure he envies the genuine popularity of his son(s). For all her many failings Diana clearly did a number with the kids despite the House of Windsor.

Anyway enjoy Kim looking at things and hope that one day soon whilst looking into a cement mixer he has an unfortunate slip… As to Charles… Wouldn’t he be happier tending an organic small-holding in Gloucestershire with Camilla by his side in a sort of C21st version of the Good Life with Andy and Fergie as the ersatz Jerry and Margot digging them out of the manure every so often?

*For some reason I see him as more the sort who goes for luxury blended rather than a single malt. There is something rather ’70s about him isn’t there? I can really see him with a 25 year old Chivas Regal watching “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly”.

Goodbye Sarah-Jane

I was thinking of some Who related posts to crank it up before the fixed point in spacetime that is April 23rd. They were going to be upbeat, jokey, amusing. But then I read the news today…

It’s not long since Nick Courtenay (The Brigadier) died so I shall watch the first episode with an even heavier heart having just heard about the death of Elisabeth Sladen.

Paying tribute, Russell T Davies, who created The Sarah Jane Adventures [and re-jigged The Who], said: “I absolutely loved Lis.”

“She was funny and cheeky and clever and just simply wonderful.

“The universe was lucky to have Sarah Jane Smith; the world was lucky to have Lis.”

Steven Moffat, Doctor Who’s lead writer and executive producer, added: “‘Never meet your heroes’, wise people say. They weren’t thinking of Lis Sladen.

“Sarah Jane Smith was everybody’s hero when I was younger, and as brave and funny and brilliant as people only ever are in stories.

“But many years later when I met the real Sarah-Jane – Lis Sladen herself – she was exactly as any child would ever have wanted her to be. Kind and gentle and clever; and a ferociously talented actress, of course, but in that perfectly English unassuming way.

“There are a blessed few who can carry a whole television show on their talent and charisma – but I can’t think of one other who’s done it quite so politely.”

My wife once met someone who had worked with Lis Sladen. She said pretty much exactly the same.

It’s extremely sad, she was only 63 for a start, but we have the DVDs and those in themselves are a sort of time travel. I know that is cold comfort to the friends and family of Lis Sladen but for a Whovian who only knew Sarah-Jane Smith and never saw it was bigger on the inside it is fitting.

No. The universe has to move forward. Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. Whether it’s a world, or a relationship… Everything has its time. And everything ends.

- Sarah-Jane Smith, School Reunion, 2006.

See you in the Medusa Cascade, Sarah-Jane!

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