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Sunday, September 25, 2016

Sunday, September 11, 2016


it was fate.

a chance meeting, a chance conversation and a life changes.

sometimes for the better and sometimes for the trivial.

in my case it was for the trivial.

she was a nervous skittish alabaster skinned woman with a cut glass accent. there was a vulnerability about her, and that always brings out the white knight in me (which isn't code for i was lusting after her). we chatted for a bit. i was left intrigued, a few weeks later we bumped into each other in a famous burger chain.

we chatted some more.

this time i discovered why she appeared to be constantly looking over her shoulder (literally and metaphorically). her tale involved a plot to incapacitate her with clothes or money that had been doused in neurotoxins, a certain amount of brainwashing, the murder of her husband (married in secret and a man who may have had a past that involved the british secret service), there were honourable mentions for the illuminati, the cia and the kgb, not to mention the obligatory mr. big who was behind all of it.

i confess dear reader that i was agog, as such i didn't ask the relevant question: why?why was all this happening to her? why was she targeted?

i just went with the flow and tried my best not to let my jaw hit the floor.

remember that scene in the matrix where morpheus is offering neo the red or the blue pill, well this was a little bit like that. the difference being that i have swallowed the stupid pill and i have become hooked on conspiracy theories.


we all know that there is much that happens in the world that is the result of decisions made beyond our knowledge, that there are people who pull the strings behind the scenes.

the illuminati, the new world order, the vampire cabal. call them what you will it is very easy to believe that there are people out there who if they don't know the secret know people who know people who know the secret.

it is one of the reasons why dan brown has been such a publishing success – he has tapped into subconscious belief in the secret powers that be. we experience every day when someone we know taps their nose and winks their eye and tells us in strictest confidence that they have been told a secret.

that is pretty much the nub of conspiracy theories. advocates and followers of conspiracies see themselves as awake while the rest of us are still asleep (we the sheeple). they know the of the secret of the shadow powers, they also know that plans of the cabal are not for our benefit, the end game of these plans is to further enslave us while making the controllers more powerful.

but the awake are trying their best to alert the rest of us – to take us from sheeple to people.

your choice red pill, blue pill – just don't think you are going to become neo – because that role has already been taken by (fill in the name of the conspiracy theorist you like the most).

the truthers, the liberty movement, the alt right, real liberals or whatever they choose to call themselves are not an homogeneous group – like religion (and extreme politics) there are factions and these factions believe different things, and in some cases never the twain shall meet while in others there is a certain amount of crossover. that said they are all in the brotherhood of mistrusting government (it will be better when they are in charge – they will free us and lead us in the right way).

the constitutionalist (the spirit of 1776) see freedom as a strict adherence to the words of the constitution and its amendments (well mostly those that say carry lots of guns and free speech). there are the evangelical conspirators, they believe in the word of the bible – but are also happy to read between the lines of the word to get to the places they want to be. they see the new world order attack as being one that wants to wipe god out, replace christianity with a one world religion and mark us all with the number of the beast (chip and pin our arses to use the french). there are alienists who see us controlled by aliens, and that we are central to a cosmos spanning war that we know little about but we are crucial to. closely allied to this is the technologist branch of conspiracy – these are the people who see a world that is full of hidden technologies that are hidden from the rest of us because we are not worthy of them. it is why we don't have all the works of tesla making our lives wonderful. the numerologists and symbologists who see clues to the next events in everyday media.

these and other groupings are not exclusive and more often than not intersect and share issues and concerns.

the main concern for the alt right/ truther movement is that they are the target of a controlled government that wants to take away their guns to make the inevitable invasion/take over of the usa that much easier.

gun owners and truth tellers are on a list that either signs them up for re-education or a short stay at a fema death camp.

in countries where guns are not so important (pretty much the rest of the world) it is about the increasing amount of surveillance we face.

for all there is the constant refrain that our freedom of speech is under attack and curtailed.

this sense of oppression is exacerbated by the fervent belief that the media is against them, not just ignoring them but wilfully spreading the message of the new world order. the news outlets are in their pockets. the large social media companies are

little more than agents of the cabal. when sports, movies and music are not actively spreading the message of the powers that be through subliminals and in your face symbols they are there to distract you from the encroaching take over that is going on. mass entertainment is there to turn us into sheeple.

it is an odd world they live in. all around them they see the clues that pass the rest of us by. they see the underlying reality. they see the future – and the future is not good: unless we listen to them and join with them, only then do we have a chance, only then can we throw off the yoke of the illuminati oppression.

because they are sometimes right about the pitfalls of globalisation they expect the rest of their analysis to be accepted wholesale. where you and i see coincidence they see plans within plans.

they live in a world of signs and warnings that we don't notice. their lives are dedicated to getting us to see that ads, movies and videos are crammed full of illuminati symbols and clues

and if you spent some time analysing them you would see that the end of the world is just around the corner. they are prepping for it, and they will be kings of the new world.

so that is me hooked on the wacky worlds and words of david icke, alex jones, ritchie allen, rich d. hall, kev baker, lisa haven and many others.

the girl?

what happened to her?

didn't see her for a long time, was always looking out for her wondering if they got her or has she escaped their clutches (more than likely she has gone back on her meds).

then one day she walked in told me she had found the grave of her murdered husband and so there was closure there.



part of the plan?

you decide dear reader, i know what i think.

that's way i am hooked on the conspiracies.

Monday, September 05, 2016


i never understand why the media get so shocked when they discover that some one famous is doing something naughty.

just because you are famous doesn't mean you are any better than the rest of us, it might make it easier for them, and it certainly adds to the risks.

the media's outrage is a nice performance designed to get us to buy their offerings. they and the accused do a well rehearsed dance of claim, counter claim, pr campaign, contrite apology and wronged partner agreeing to forgive.

the irony of the weekend's revelation was that it wasn't the one that was supposed to be making the headlines – that was going to be a high level clergy being in a long term gay partnership. instead of being outed he broke the story himself and ruined the best laid plans of mice and editors.

at least with the clergy there was at least an 'in the public interest' argument given the church's stance of homosexuality. it justifies the invasion of privacy.

unlike the recent case of famous gay couple who have an arrangement for one of them to have extra marital sex. grown up adults, making grown up decisions in a grown up way. a couple who don't really make political statements and most of their influence would come from their charity work. so none of my business. none of your business. except the news media thinks it is – so will cram it down our throat (you choose the visual you want for that – but i think i can guess what it might be).

the public interest argument is a funny one in that it is supposed to be a justification for telling tales about well known people in order to generate revenue for the news organisation. just because someone is in the public eye doesn't make it in the public interest if they indulge in a bit of hanky panky – unless of course they have been an advocate for chastity or monogamy. then hypocrisy has to be uncovered.

which brings us on to keith vaz.

luckily for the papers their weekend didn't go scoopless because they had keith in the background, very convenient. i am sure there was nothing cynical about the timing and they always intended to hang keith out to dry at some point or another.

keith was filmed with some male prostitutes. they decided to film and sell their story when they recognised that mr vaz wasn't the lowly washing machine salesman he claimed to be – but a recognisable high profile politician.

mr. vaz was in charge of a select committee that was looking into whether or not prostitution should be legalised and to his credit he doesn't seem to have used the pete townshend defence: 'it was research'. it was his position on the committee that turned his sexual adventures from something that was between him and his family (wife standing by him – probably nothing to do with the family property fortune at all) and squeaking into the public interest.

there are two reasons why i think it counts. firstly he hadn't declared to the committee that he was a user of prostitutes. it really is time that the oldest profession is decriminalised. making it legal means you take away one of the main reasons for human trafficking. if brothels and prostitutes are legalised then they can be monitored to ensure they are lawful, they can be taxed (there is a lot of money in it) sure there are a lot of 'not in my backyarders' out there who would scream blue murder in order to stop it happening in their neighbourhood – but why it is already happening, this just makes it legal. and while making it legal might increase the number of men who visit a prostitute i doubt very much it will be by huge numbers.

because mr vaz hadn't declared he was a partaker of paid for sexual adventures he left himself open to accusations of bias – you are hardly going to make one of your favourite pastimes illegal are you?

but a second more important reason is that by hiding that sort of thing he created the opportunity to become the victim of blackmail.

for me that was the main problem mr vaz believed he was above such concerns, that he wouldn't get caught and their wouldn't be consequences to his actions.

and here comes my third reason why i think it counts.

pretty much if this had happened to a majority of mps i would have thought nothing of it, but keith vaz just rubs me the wrong way (though perhaps not the best choice of words in the circumstances). every time mr vaz appears i am shocked he is a labour politician, as he has enough smugness to place him on the same level as david cameron and george osbourne and that really is saying something.

in fact i suspect there were few calls to defend his privacy simply because so few people like him.

all i think he did wrong was keep it secret and that isn't a reflection on him but more a comment on the puritanical state that certain news organisations think we should be. ironically while mr vaz was heading up a powerful select committee whatever they may have suggested would have had to make it past the judgement of the unelected editors and owners of our national news organisations.

they are the real opinion formers, they are the establishment and judging by the amount of press we see about them being naughty boys and girls (virtually zilch) they are above reproach but we know that is bollocks. that is why i always find 'in the public interest' line so hypocritical because it is not applied to them.

but on the other hand it is keith vaz we are talking about.

so well played mass media.


summer is not my favourite time of year.

i dread it.

i don't like the bight sun.

i don't like the heat. don't care if it is dry heat or wet heat i don't like it.

i don't like that everyone else is telling me how nice and how wonderful it is.

i hate it.

i positively loathe it when it becomes heatwave city and we get those last few dying days of summer that appear when the nights are closing in and we should be enjoying the joys of autumn leading to the sharp bracing pleasure of winter.

guess who hasn't enjoyed the last few days of our indian summer heatwave.

oh that would be me.

it is true that part of the problem is that i am a fat bastard.

a fat bastard who sweats a lot.

so sweltering sizzling weather is my enemy.

i have felt faint. i have felt like a sausage in a microwave ready to pop as i overcook. i have felt drained and heavy limbed as the sun bleached out energy. every movement a conscious effort, lethargic, woozy and short tempered a new, even more, unlikeable version of me: short tempered misery guts.

let us not forget the watery eyes and sneezy nose as i spend a week or two as the victim of hay fever, the nights of not being able to sleep because i am unable to get comfortable in the stifling heat that turns a place into a cheap sauna, when i do sleep i wake to oppressive heat already half dead knowing that when i go out the heat will punch me in the face like a sledgehammer bouncing off an anvil.

days spent longing for a break in the weather. a downpour of rain to freshen and cool the air, when it does come it is over in a flash and before you know the street is as dry as a bone again. reading news rags and wishing that the horror weather stories of the daily mail and daily express just for once contained a modicum of truth (little chance – on anything they write to be honest). looking to the skies and hoping that a lone cloud is a precursor to a storm.

yes i fucking hate summer.

not even the joyous pleasure of pretty women in skimpy clothes can take away from the fact that it is summer. in fact it is a cruel game on behalf of the creator that at the time when ladies strut and preen their stuff i am at my least interested. come winter when covered in puffa jackets and woollen jackets i am ready – but nothing to see.

then just when you think that is it – all over autumn here we get blistering indian summer.

and i fucking hate indian summers even more than regular summers.

currently not a happy bunny.

bring on wind, bring on rain, bring on snow, bring on winds.

bring on winter.

Sunday, September 04, 2016


the decision had been made, leave work at a vaguely sensible time catch night buses and train to get back to where i am staying.

check the tfl site. enter options and see the results. enter different options get different results. repeat. choose best course of action.

chosen: night bus, night tube and night train. by jings a winning combination.

mmm if i lock up now i can catch the bus that takes me to where i want to go.

get to stop in time.

check with driver it is going to hyde park corner. it does.

approaching hyde park corner i ding the bell

i stand by the door, ding the bell again.

bus goes past hyde park corner.

i give the driver a snidey comment – but polite.

when i get off at the next stop i sarcastically thank him for nothing. i feel a little better for doing that. that's me big man in the hood.

hoof it back to hyde park corner – normally i wouldn't be too bothered but i am trying to catch a train, they (mostly) stick to timetables. notice that the park itself is open which is pretty impressive and deserves to be investigated but not right now, train to catch.

mm something not right. station is closed. that's fucking wrong. all night tube blah blah. bastardising bus driver and now tfl website giving wrong information. fuckity fuck. maybe they've closed one entrance just to control the flow of people. try other entrance. closed. cock.

check web for details.

shit the bed i got out at the wrong fucking bus stop. didn't need hyde park, needed green park. wanky wank.

try find bus stop i need. check destinations, no sign of green park. why not? look bus going to picadilly jump on that. blink of an eye at green park.

on tube.

at victoria

need the 5.23 train, platform 9. twenty minutes. time to get porridge from macd

onalds and coffee from cafe nero. done. walk platform. front of train. press door button. nothing. press button again. still nothing. something not right. walk down the platform. no longer the 5.23 just an empty train. onto forecourt check the main boards – now it is the 5.38 from platform 18, should just make it.

need the front carriage.

longest train in the fucking world.

get on.

porridge cold.

coffee cold.

on the move.


lessons learnt – write down relevant information, review relevant information, act on relevant information.

oh and don''t trust anything that southern say about their trains.

Monday, August 29, 2016


in the time it has taken me to write and post my last couple of blogs james patterson has written 4 novels, co-authored seven and plotted seventeen others while outlining the next two years worth of books that will bear his name. all while establishing a brand new format for reading

patterson found fame and fortune with his main character alex cross, a black private investigator who used to be part of the fbi. oddly if you look at the covers of the books there are times when you would be hard pressed to realise that the lead character was black – which says more about marketing than a host of books ever could.

i have only read the one alex cross novel. it was shit. i have read a couple of james patterson's other creations, both co-authored works and both shit. i might even be bold enough to state that james patterson is the worst writer that publishes and consistently and successfully.

patterson writes page turners. now some would say that the page turner genre is not worth the paper it is written on (see what i did there) but they are wrong. reading should be fun, it should be entertaining, it shouldn't be a chore.

one of the kings of the page turner is dan brown, the much maligned dan brown, and i am sure he cries himself to sleep at the poor reviews he receives from literary reviewers, just after he rolls naked in piles of dosh.

lots of people sneer at dan brown for being a poor writer but he knows how to keep you interested and he knows how to get you to keep turning the pages. trust me read a few of his pale imitators and you will see it is not as easy as it looks. his main trick is short chapters that end on a little cliffhanger making you want to know what happens next, because you know the next chapter is short you think ok just one more, but dan is wise to you and has switched viewpoints so you have to read another chapter. hooked. a page turner.

patterson on the other just has short chapters – the endings of which seem to be based on arbitrary factors such as he needed to go pee, he fancied a cup of coffee the cat jumped on his keyboard, in short they are not story driven they just occur willy nilly. while the chapters are short they are irritating because the just happen.

as pants as he is i hold james patterson in high regard. not only is he a beacon of hope to all us useless writers (he can, we can) he is, more importantly, getting people to read. he is involved in literacy programmes, he has put his name to initiatives to encourage reluctant readers. for that alone he has to be admired and praised.

i love books and i love reading. i will never have enough books and i will never read all the books that i have on my, rather long, must read list but that isn't going to stop me from trying,

there is a part of me that doesn't trust people who have no interest in reading – there is something odd about them.

i was lucky when it came to books – infant and junior schools i had teachers who encouraged reading, dad loved to read (i can't remember mum being much of a reader until later in her life) (both of them loved to tell tall tales or as they are more commonly referred to: lies), there were always books around. i had a curious jump from enid blyton to ed mcbain and ian fleming. a genre fan was born and a genre fan i remained.

i spent many happy hours in second hand bookshops looking for a james bond, a doc savage, a john carter warlord of mars or something new that would have me hooked and waiting for their next book. falling in love with science fiction and horror and imprints such as pan and new english library.

books i love them.

and i don't understand why there are some out there who just don't share my enjoyment of the written word. i just don't get why.

and for the work he has done to bring people to the written word a hat has to be doffed and a glass has to be raised in appreciation of the work that james patterson has done and will continue to do. praise him.

just don't ask me to read his books.

Thursday, August 25, 2016


it is funny how tastes change. there was a time when i would sneer at the idea of porridge: what eat that upchuck? oh yeah i am quite the foodie.

oh well how wrong i was. since my recent bout of ill health i have become a bit more conscious about the food i eat: how much sugar? how much fat? you are shitting me! (and dear mr. sainsbury's you don't need the government to bring about healthier food – you are big enough to make the changes, just don't want to in case you lose money).

anyway there i was in pret a manger and i thought i really can't have any more cheese, oh ok let's give that porridge a go. whatta y'know i liked it, hell more than that i really liked it.

so now i eat porridge.

one of the many things i can't claim to be is a cook or even vaguely interested in the whole preparing meals process. as far as i am concern food technology has had only three major inventions: fire, sliced bread and the microwave.

but i still know stuff and the stuff i know includes that it shouldn't be impossible to make consistently decent porridge. you just need the right ratios of oats to milk/water or milk and water and cook for a certain length of time. oat so simple - see what i did there? (and that is the closest i will ever come to cooking.)

imagine my surprise when i rock up at gregs the bakers one morning and purchase their porridge. carton felt nice and hot. i was looking forward to it. i kept shaking the pot as i walked to stop it from congealing. i needn't have bothered. when i finally sat down to enjoy it what i was confronted with was a curious asian fusion dish that was miso meets oats. if i had wanted warm milk with bits in i would have asked for it. what i wanted was porridge – a dish that isn't hard to make, a dish that is almost perfect for fast food places to have on hand to dole out to hungry customers.

gregs have obviously decided that the humble porridge needs an upgraded and misoed the hell out of it.

no need to worry plenty of other places do it. there i am on victoria station, train is close to leaving, i know i will try the people at breadbox they are offering porridge. hand over the cash, get the goodies and helter skelter to catch the train. a bit of heavy breathing and adjusting bags and then popping open the porridge container.


not quite porridge – what they are offering is a milky sweet gruel. sure you can hunt around and find some oats you can even try to stir it all up to see if those oats will expand with agitation and fill the carton magic bean style. you can do any number of things and you will still be left with a cooling gruel. i am not knocking gruel – it was the staple diet for many for a long time – it is just that when you a buying one thing and you get something that isn't quite that it is easy to be disappointed.

i was.

lesson learnt. stick to pret.

what macdonalds do porridge?

oh ok let's give them a go.