Twisted

Teenagers bed broke last week. It's a double sized wrought iron (hmm...) bed and the weld on one of the joints has just given up after years of having kids (and the ....ahem....odd adult) bouncing up and down it. Its not often I get results when I buy things, but when we ordered the new pine replacement version for her, we asked that they delay the original delivery date by one week. Yep, you guessed it, they ring on the original date and delivered it anyway because the driver is in the area and their computer system is too fucking stupid to understand the concept of rearrangement. Luckily we were in, when we were supposed to be out so we took it in anyway. The thing is they also rang on the rearranged date when I was at work with a delivery for a bed! What was GMD to do with this moral dilemna? Of course she did the right thing, kept her mouth shut and let them deliver another bed. This one's for Baby if they don't discover their fuck up.

Anyway, tonight I dismantled the remains of the old iron (sic) bed so that we could

a.) get rid of the thing
b.) get it out of the room
c.) pull the carpet up for the install of laminate flooring - I detest the stuff but GMD and the kids love it - GMD wants it in the living room, but I'm fighting that one all the way...cold and noisy shite in my view. How can I lay out on a laminate floor and read the Sunday's in comfort? I might as well lay on the fucking pavement outside and read them!

Simple huh? A few screws and nuts to undo, no problem. Just the job for one of mans finest inventions...the cordless screwdriver. Any man knows how satisfactory the feeling is of tightening or unscrewing 50 screws on a DIY project by pressing a button and letting the screwdriver power the screw in or out without huge weals and bruises appearing on your hands. It must give the same satisfaction as tightening the wheelnuts on Formula Yawn car in 3 seconds. Top marks to Mr Black and Mr Decker.

But no! You see in a cruel twist of fate The Academy of Crap Design got there first. As I stooped to the first screw the memories of building the bastard thing came flooding back. The screws aren't Phillips crosshead, nor do they have the traditional screwdriver groove in the head. No, just for me some vindictve shitneck tosspot decides that an Allen Key fitting is what's needed here. So, 2 hours of twisting a torturously small Allen Key in a screw attached almost permanently to a nut was my night, rather than the planned 20 minutes with my Black and Decker. What sort of twisted cretinous monster decided that this was the way to allow the screws to be tightened?

On a night where Baby asked me for some help in her forthcoming and first ever school debate, on the subject of Capital Punishment, and where I gave her my arguments against it, I think maybe it should be re-introduced for the twats who have graduated from the Academy of Crap Design.

Later, ScrewedJack

The Root of All Evil....

Last night saw the second episode of Life on Mars (see previous blog from….errr….a week ago) and as expected it didn’t disappoint. Innovative and good drama interspersed with genuine laugh out loud moments keeps Monday night alive for me. But also on Mondays on Channel 4, although I don’t know for how long, is an equally fascinating programme called Root of All Evil?

It is presented by the renowned scientist Professor Richard Dawkins, an eminent Oxford University academic and neo-Darwinist. Dawkins is a man who sharply divides opinion, not least with me. he also comes over as rather irrascible, and has the air of a Victorian schoolmaster about to explode with disbelief at the stupidity of the people he talks to. Very enteratining to watch though. I see and understand his arguments for Darwinism and his dismissal of religion, but he never satisfactorily covers the human condition for me. The condition of why we are what we are, why evolution singled us out for advanced intelligence (in comparison to all other Earth species), and to what happens upon death – his blasé proclamation of “that’s all folks” doesn’t, for me, cover the nature and purpose of our existence. In this programme, Dawkins is exposing the fundamental hypocrisies and fairy stories which underpin virtually all religions. He does this by talking to various religious figures across the three main religions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Why he chose to ignore Hinduism and Buddhism is not explained. However, each of the people he interviews during the series are exposed as rather nasty people underneath it all. At least the Muslim fundamentalist on last weeks programme was nasty from the outset, but the Jewish and Christian clerics he spoke to were happy to smile for the camera but you could see the festering dislike they held for his atheistic views bubbling under the surface. In fact the American preacher from last week, with the NurembergRally-esque style of preaching physically threatened Dawkins and the crew off of his land. This week saw another American “Reverend” defending his friend, who had murdered a Doctor because he performed abortions.In his view this murdering shitneck would have gone to heaven for such an "act of love" for the unborn child! This lunatic moron even extolled the idea that a death penalty would be deemed a suitable punishment for people who commit adultery. I suppose it's one way to cut the worlds population by half!

What Dawkins manages to expose is the way that fear of eternal damnation and hell is used to exercise control and power over peoples lives, and how religion encourages hatred, intolerance, bigotry and prejudice, and ultimately leads to extreme acts of evil, something not seen by any other species on Earth. Even Chimps, with no apparent concept of social justice, equality or right or wrong have a basic understanding of how the unity of the group is better for all, and of how to gain respect and standing via acts of altruism unguided by any faith in a higher being.

Dawkins also states that although religions preach morality, peace and hope, the fact is they carry and encourage at their heart intolerance, violence and destruction. He argues that the growth of extreme fundamentalism in nearly every religion across the world not only endangers humanity but is in conflict with the trend over thousands of years of history for humanity to progress and under the auspices of our society, culture and the environment of the natural world become more enlightened and more tolerant. Dawkins argues that religion destroys and undermines this by dividing our species and by consequently encouraging insular groups to exist, following unproven, unchallenged and unprovable doctrines, which in turn feeds the unilateral views of the religious groups.

Dawkins goes on to argue that religion can be likened to a generational virus handed down from parent to child, something which the child-brain cannot challenge in its early and most malleable years. Dawkins also argues that for children transmitting such a 'warped reality' to young people, says Dawkins, amounts to indoctrination. Children are uniquely vulnerable and if they fail to question and shake off such superstition, they remain in a state of perpetual infancy. I loved the point about parents not describing their children as Tory or Labour, or of parents indoctrinating their children with specific political views.

All of this just served to strengthen my view that religion is the source of some of the vilest activities, thoughts, doctrines, tools of oppression and disputes the world has seen. It doesn’t dispel my faith in some form of further existence beyond the corporeal form, because as I say he doesn’t convince me that nothing beyond death exists. I’ve always felt since renouncing my own Catholic faith as a young teenager, that whatever follows death won’t be under the auspices of a Higher Being who created the conditions for death, misery, tragedy and hatred but of something far stranger and unexplainable than that. I simply do not believe that the human ”spirit” is a mere by-product of a living collection of molecules and atoms forming flesh and bones. I did however agree with the statement he quoted from physicist and writer Stephen Weinberg when describing religion as an insult to human dignity

Without it you'd have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, it takes religion.

Later, GrocerJack

The Money Pit

Remember my holiday in France last year? For those new to this collection of silly musings I'll recap briefly.

3 weeks
South of France
Lovely weather
Great food and drink
Teenage boys discovering Teenager
Teenager discovering boys (other than Mini-Me)
Baby discovering a new pre-teenage world
Me realising both were at the start of changes to their lives and their dependence on me
Shit drive there, race against the clock back to make the ferry with 15 minutes to spare
The purchase of a caravan…mobile home….holiday home in the South of France

Well guess which one is The Money Pit? Yep, not the kids but the caravan…mobile home….holiday home. To be honest me being a lazy, disorganised knobber doesn’t help the situation either. In fact I told GMD this would be my project to test my planning skills acquired in my stultifying, boring and increasingly dull job. Of course this was a mistake because being a member of the GoGB means delaying everything until the last possible moment. It’s genetic, and only blokes can loaf to the degree where we only leave a burning building when our hair starts to sizzle. And even then we probably just saunter out casually. Similarly that’s how I’ve planned this new adventure.

Anyway because of this I had persevered in getting the balance for the caravan…mobile home….holiday home from a new member of The Fucking Bastards Club – my building society. Since late September they have prevaricated around lending us the money. They don’t answer the phones, they don’t reply to letters until 2-3 weeks later, they can’t help on the phone when you do get through and then finally they refuse the loan after 3 months of administrative bollocks because they won’t lend on something that “isn’t a permanent structure”…well thanks to the Birmingham Midshits for fuck all. And I will get my £300 admin fee (which they say is non-refundable) back believe me. Small claims court here I come! So, we have ended going elsewhere to get the balance – my shares from The Company that I’ve been saving for 5 years!, some other shares that I got as a bonus from the company have also gone, and no they didn’t make me a great deal of money because The Company’s share price is on its arse and falling day by day! We’ve managed to get the £3400 site fees together as well and so in the last week I’ve decimated my long term savings, read contracts until blue in the face, signed loan forms in triplicate, signed contracts in quadruplate (if such a thing exists) been emailing Haven Europe constantly trying to get correct figures and other advice from a very pleasant but unbelievably dim “sales counsellor” – a sort of female Tim Nice-but-dim. Email seems almost mysterious to her judging by the apparent delight she shows every time she gets something from me that has an attachment.

I have been the proverbial blue arsed fly all week. In fact I envy the blue arsed fly because I bet it’s stress levels were way below mine. And at least it gets to sit on the shit instead of having it dumped on its head like me.

On Friday alone I had to negotiate an extra £500 overdraft with the bank to get us through to the next payday, ring the share brokers and get stuff sold and transferred, cancel my OU course (heartbreaking) in order to get an extra £500 for The Money Pit purchase, ring the Halifax for my sharesave schemes to be closed, ring the car company for a quote to buy the car before the balloon payment comes up in September and loads more. I had to try and make 10 phone calls in 45 minutes spare I had on Friday at work. I managed 9 in that time, which in the “select option 1, key in your number, key in your i.d “ world of automated phone systems is nothing short of a performance Sir Steve Redgrave would be proud of.

A picture of The Money Pit is shown above – obviously that’s not mine because mine isn’t in place yet, nor have I purchased any decking (a snip at what looks like being around £1000, or the air conditioning unit, no doubt another snip at £300!). I just hope it’s worth it. The picture above certainly makes me think so. At the moment I veer between child like excitement when I look at the stuff we got from the site. When I remember what it was like signing for this under the hot Mediterranean sun, which no doubt helped sell the dream to me. When I read the various reviews on the web it lifts me up and convinces me that this is something I want. But in the dark moments I slip into despair because that’s it for my savings.

All gone.

No more.

And I’ve still got to find £3375 to get my orthodontic teeth treatment.

But what else are your savings for?

And people wonder why I’m a grumpy old bastard?

Later, GrocerJack

Bad HATtitude? (groan)

Another surefire sign of how mental this country is getting and just how bloody invasive the PC Brigade/Nanny State is getting. Read this article about the 64 year old Grandad asked to remove his Trilby hat in a pub and then tell me that we aren't all off to hell in a handcart. For fucks sake where is the alleged reason, compromise and fairness of todays' society? Do we truly live in a "one size fits all" society where stupid rules are bought in with best intentions but then penalise the innocent or unwary? When are we, as a society going to stand up to this sort of PC/Nanny State/paranoic bollocks and tell these rule making knobbers to go fuck themselves. Perhaps it's time for a new political party.

The Civil Disobedience Party (incorporating The Common Sense Party) anyone?

Rules might include

Anyone over 40 can wear any headgear wherever they like
All Town centre parking will be free
Any parking meter without a debit/credit card facility will be deemed invalid
If I want to stand at football I will
Speed limits on A-roads and motorways will now be Safe Speed Guides
Gas/electricity/water and phone disconnections will be an illegal act
I'll drink however much I want
I'll give up my bus/tube seat when it suits me
If i want to use my mobile in a petrol station I will, bearing in mind that to date not one occurence of mobile phone caused petrol station explosion or fire anywhere in the world has been logged
Ditto on aeroplanes.
Ditto in Hospitals
Hospital Parking will be free (our government will make up the revenue shortfall)
Wheel Clamps can be legally removed via Angle grinders/power Saws
It will be illegal to turf any minor off of a bus or train because they haven't enough money for the full fare and the driver will be responsible for ensuring the kid can call home.
Spikes can be worn in the clubhouse, as can hats and shorts (local golf club rule)
It will be legal to throw someones mobile away or destroy it if they are too loud on the train, in a restaurant, in a waiting room or answer it when indulging in face to face conversation with someone?

Any more?

Later, Grocerjack

For all you nervous flyers

Tower: "Delta 351, you have traffic at 10 o'clock, 6 miles!"
Delta 351:"Give us another hint! We have digital watches!"

"TWA 2341, for noise abatement turn right 45 Degrees." "Centre, we are at 35,000 feet. How much noise can we make up here?" "Sir, have you ever heard the noise a 747 makes when it hits a 727?"

From an unknown aircraft waiting in a very long takeoff queue: "I'm fucking
bored!" Ground Traffic Control: "Last aircraft transmitting, identify yourself immediately!"
Unknown aircraft: "I said I was fucking bored, not fucking stupid!"

Control tower to a 747: "United 329 heavy, your traffic is a Fokker, one
o'clock, three miles, Eastbound." United 239: "Approach, I've always wanted to say this.... I've got the little Fokker in sight."

A DC-10 had come in a little hot and thus had an exceedingly long roll out
after touching down. San Jose Tower noted: "American 751, make a hard right turn at the end of the runway, if you are able. If you are not able, take the Guadalupe exit off Highway 101, make a right at the lights and return to
the airport."

A military pilot called for a priority landing because his single-engine jet
fighter was running "a bit peaked." Air Traffic Control told the fighter
pilot that he was number two, behind a B-52 that had one engine shut down.
"Ah," the fighter pilot remarked, "The dreaded seven-engine approach."

Allegedly, a Pan Am 727 flight waiting for start clearance in Munich
overheard the following: Lufthansa (in German): "Ground, what is our start clearance time?"
Ground (in English): "If you want an answer you must speak
in English." Lufthansa (in English): "I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?"
Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): "Because you lost the bloody war."

Tower: "Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on frequency
124.7" Eastern 702: "Tower, Eastern 702 switching to Departure. By the way,
after we lifted off we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the
runway." Tower: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff behind Eastern 702,
contact Departure on frequency 124.7. Did you copy that report from Eastern
702?" Continental 635: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff, roger; and
yes, we copied Eastern... we've already notified our caterers."

One day the pilot of a Cherokee 180 was told by the tower to hold short of
the active runway while a DC-8 landed. The DC-8 landed, rolled out, turned
around, and taxied back past the Cherokee. Some quick-witted comedian in the DC-8 crew got on the radio and said, "What a cute little plane. Did you make it all by yourself?" The Cherokee pilot, not about to let the insult go by,
came back with a real zinger: "I made it out of DC-8 parts. Another landing
like yours and I'll have enough parts for another one."

Allegedly the German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a
short-tempered lot. They, it is alleged, not only expect one to know one's
gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from
them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the
following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways
747, call sign Speedbird 206. Speedbird 206: "Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway."
Ground: "Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven." The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.
Ground:"Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?"
Speedbird 206: "Stand by, Ground, I'm looking up our gate location now." Ground (with quite arrogantimpatience): "Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?"
Speedbird 206 (coolly): "Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark,...... and I didn't land."

Allegedly, while taxiing at London's Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air
flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose
with a United 727. An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US
Air crew, screaming: "US Air 2771, where the hell are you going?! I told you
to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right
there. I know it's difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D,
but get it right!" Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now
shouting hysterically: "God! Now you've screwed everything up! It'll take
forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don't move till I tell
you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour
and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I
tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?" US Air 2771: "Yes, ma'am," the humbled
crew responded. Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell
terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to
chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind.
Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high.
Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone,
asking: "Wasn't I married to you once?"

Later, Grocerjack

Quality, quality, quality

It's good to be English. There are loads of reasons for this, none of which conflict with my pro-Europe stance. I do not believe being pro-Europe is anti-English, in fact the most fanatical of Europeans are often the most patriotic for their homeland. Hence, Germany as a big European player has a very strong sense of nationality, which has not been diluted by the Euro currency or European laws on human rights etc. Ditto France. Ditto Spain. Ditto Italy. All have remained fiercely proud of their national identity. I'm also OK with being British as well, but despise the Little Britain mentality of small minded island race bigotry which says that for some reason we are better than Johnny Foreigner.

However, one bastion of Englishness and Britishness envied by all others is The BBC. I have a logo on the page declaring my support for this organization and have often posted before about it, specifically the fantastic value we ALL get for around 35 per day, without a single advert in sight. So, once again its hats off to them for yet another innovative and compelling piece of drama in the form of Life on Mars, aired for the first time last night. Starring the marvellous John Simm and Phillip Glenister it is the story of a copper transported from 2006 back to 1973. Well, in fact he's hit by a car in 2006 and the assumption is he is in a coma and all the 1973 stuff is happening in his head whilst he fights for life in hospital. The show is made by Kudos productions who made Spooks, another of my favourite shows and is fast becoming one of the most classy of independent TV production stables around. However, this is not just simple time travel, with the usual paradoxes and conundrums. No, this is about the capability for someone to accept massive change and to do the best they can when things change beyond all reality. A sort of Groundhog Day scenario without the constant repetition. But what wins me over the most is the attention to detail in the nostalgia-fest for everyone over 40. The little touches like flowery wallpaper, TV's with no remote control, old news bulletins featuring Robert Dougall as the newscaster, a Cortina Mk3 Ghia with Vinyl roof, an 8-track as the music system in a Rover car. The list just goes on, wonderful shots down streets lined with parked Austin Allegro's, Vauxhall Viva's and Morris Marina's, a vinyl record shop with listening booth playing "Teenage Wasteland" by The Who and Simms characters reference to buying his first record there - Cars by Gary Numan, not released until 1979. And of course the Sweeney like attitudes of 1970's British police. A sexist environment where women police are referred to as "skirts" and charged with making tea or filing paperwork, where all the men made jokes about a recently murdered woman because of her alleged sexual exploits, a police station where smoking in the office is de rigour, and a world of no computers or mobile phones. The look on Simm characters face when he learns it will take two weeks to get some lab results back because it's all done by post is priceless. Alongside this there is the intriguing story of the link between a murder in 2006 and something very similar in 1973. It is a series so I guess each week there'll be something different story wise with the underlying story-arc around the time travel bit and how they wrap it up will be intriguing to say the least - I wouldn't imagine it's a multi-series...err...series if you get my drift.

However it is simply indicative of how a public funded service can be innovative, different, take risks and produce high quality drama. To put it into context, the offering on ShiteTV last night was the abysmal Soapstar Superstar. Need I say more?

Later, Grocerjack

So farewell then.........

Tony Banks. A proper MP in his day with a passionate nature and a fierce and sometimes cruel wit. He followed my beloved Chelsea with a passion unmatched in political-celeb fan circles. I once sat in the old Galleria with him in the Shed End on a Corporate jolly when we played Leicester a few years back and he was as loud as me, much to the chagrin of the collected Prawn Sandwich Brigade you tend to get there. I think he shared a similar hate relationship with Ken Bates as well, although Ken would never ban Banksie because he was if nothing else speaking honestly about what a curmudgeonly old goat Bates was. After the game, as we walked back to our respective tables he looked over to my bit and I caught his eye. He lifted his glass and with a knowing wink mouthed the words "keep the passion...good result". In fact he might have said "fucking good result* but I didn't notice as I'd gone a bit star struck at that point. The point was he had recognized in me a kindred spirit, that of the real football fan , the one who'll sit and eat the luxury free food of Corporate jollies, but in his heart wants to be in the terraces with the fans, singing, chanting and swearing. I guess the point is that although not all of his opinions were along my lines he had the inate ability to respect those on the opposite side of the fence in all walks of life. At that game he was sharing a table with true blue Tory Stephen "Shagger" Norris with whom he'd had many a political tussle both in The Commons and later in his failed attempt to be nominated to stand as Mayor of London. All throughout he afternoon they baited each other and were having a laugh, all political differences set aside in order to get behind the one set of Blues he truly loved - Chelsea FC.

I remember one other instance where he captured the feeling of supporting Chelsea perfectly. We reached the FA Cup final in 1997 having been trophyless for 27 years. For whatever reason it was the last time the BBC did the "all day" coverage and build up to the game. Cue Des Lynam at the peak of his presenting powers as he said "and now over to a true blue..the MP Tony Banks". He asked Banksie how he felt and commented that it must be great to be at the game and how much he must be relishing it. Banksie's reply was the EXACT summation of how I felt that morning

"Des...this has been the worst experience of my life...I couldn't sleep, I can't eat, my mouth is dry but I can't drink, my stomach is turning over in circles and I;ve never felt so awful about anything. It's been bloody torture!"

Even GMD smiled at that and looked at me as if to say "I think he's summed you up there as well!" And he had, for that day was as nerve racking as any I've encountered before or since. The level of expectation was so high that had we lost I think I might still be in therapy somewhere now!

His passion for animal rights was well documented and although it was too extreme for me it was also something to behold when he was in full debate about. He also shared a love of art that I have acquired over the years. I also felt that when he was Minister for Sport he was truly a man who understood the importance of Sport within the social fabric of this country. He knew the positive effect that success in any sport had on the beleagured people of Britain, and the feelgood factor it would induce. As a true football fan he more than any other Sports Minister before or since just how much the passion of sport can be a force for good in people. How it teaches you to accept defeat graciously (well unless it's Chelsea losing) and to win with dignity (again Chelsea excluded!).

I have a feeling that day he acknowledged me we could have been in a pub and he would have happily sat there and chewed the football cud over a few beers or glasses of wine until the night ended naturally with a handshake and a mischievous smile as he walked away. A true man of the people, he will no doubt be missed in politics but also at Stamford Bridge where everyone was his friend and he was everyone's friend.

RIP mate, and wherever you are KTBFFH.

Later, GrocerJack