#39

Peace on Earth and good will to all Earthlings.

Apologies to those who know me, since the Christmas card in the preceding blog entry will probably be repeat material for you (I wondered how long it would be before I started doing repeats). I considered doing another Sumpy the Cat Christmas card but for some reason it just seemed like it'd be cat exploitation...even though Sumpy probably quite enjoyed playing about with tinsel for the photographs of the last card, I didn't think he'd enjoy the enforced adornment of a cat sized Santa hat which was my idea for this Christmas's card. Although getting Sumpy to wear a cute red Father Christmas hat would have been quite difficult, the task of actually getting the photos onto the computer, choosing a good shot and editing it would certainly have been so much easier than last time, because last time I took the photos of Sumpy with a, now considered 'old-fashioned', non-digital film camera, it being about three years ago -- because on a non-digital camera you can't review the photos you've just taken and see if you have at least a couple of clear crisp well-framed shots (obviously because there is no handy screen on the back of the camera). I had to take a whole role of film (36 photos of tensely Sumpy frolics) to make sure I would have at least a few good shots to choose from. Now... you may begin to start to get an inkling of the extra mental stresses you have to endure when you are a creative type of person, if you imagine going down to the local chemist to get a film developed containing 36 consecutive specially lit cat-frolicking photos. What on earth does the person developing the photos think? 'Cat worrier' perhaps? Upon my return to pick-up the developed photos I was greeted by that strange look from the person behind the counter, one that resumed, once my ticket had been handed-over and my photos located, as the person behind the counter slowly handed me the package of photos from: it is the look that says in that unspoken way that: they know that you know that they know. It is a look from film developers that I had well gotten used to in the era of pre-digital amateur photography, since I often tried photographing unusual things or trying experiments with photography -- things which would certainly make my roll of film stand-out a mile from all the other far more typical films in the developing-room of family holidays snaps etc, etc... for example once I experimented with taking long exposure night-time photos featuring laser trials

and when you go and collect photos like that you expect the look..... but one time I got the look totally unexpectedly when I was going to collect what I thought was an ordinary film of photos of me an my mates out and about. It was at Frosts the chemist in Sutton Coldfield town centre, in the late Eighties I think... I had left the a roll of film there for developing on a 'one hour' service. I was not particularly surprised when I returned one hour later and was told that the photos would not be ready until the next day, since I had long-ago come to learn that the cheerful: 'one hour developing', or: 'your photo ready in 1 hour' signs displayed in chemist shops actually mean: 'come back in an hour to be told when your photos will actually be ready'... but what did surprise me was that, as I say: I got that look... not only that, but two other shop assistants were conducting some sort of clandestine hushed conversation at the back of the shop with each other inbetween paying me frequent and guarded glances. But at the time I shrugged-off this behaviour from the three young gap-year doofi behind the counter, and I just put it down to paranoia, assuming I had imagined it somehow or that they were just 'admiring' my mad hair -- my mad mad hair that would occasionally compel people in passing cars to yell things like 'get a hair cut' out of the window. Even polite people who said nothing upon seeing me would suddenly feel the need to look at their reflection in a shop window and flatten down their own hair to make sure they weren't also suffering a bad hair catastrophe. I think my mad hair was probably what got me the nick name of Moose. Now-a-days though being as I'm half bald my hair is only half as mad, and as such does not exceed the threshold of madness which compels people to comment on it suddenly and loudly. I do my best with what hair I have left however, to purvey at least a token appearance of mad-hair-ness... one does what one can. Oh yeah, I've diverged from the main theme somewhat haven't I? (Sorry -- reading my blog must be as infuriating as listening to the 'Count Arthur Strong's Radio Show!' but without being as amusing). Yeah well right, back to the main subject:- I went back to the photo developer's shop the next day during my lunch hour and got the same kind of response and the same strange looks and secretive conversations between the three furtive assistants on one configuration or other (one doofus serving me and the other two doofi secretly conversing). Again I was fobbed-off and told to come back the next day (I was given some excuse about the processing equipment having broken down). This happened three days running... but on the fourth day I went there in the lunch hour and was finally, at last, handed my photos. I went down there with my mate RussH and we had a good flick though the pics on the way back to the office, having the customary chuckle at the expense of whoever had been captured on this or that photo at a point in time where they had some weird expression or when they had their eyes shut or whatever. Well, all seemed normal enough, just ordinary snaps of friends, family, cat, car, etc. so I just forgot about the strange looks I received in the shop. Some days later however I remembered that I had taken some pictures of planes during one foggy night... I live under a main flight path to Birmingham international airport which is about 20 miles away so planes come quite low over our house. I thought pictures of the planes' landing-lights through the fog might make some quite nice moody pics, and at the time I was quite interested in UFOs and remember thinking, like many others, how conveniently crap some pictures of UFOs were that you get in UFO mags etc, especially those taken at night... so I thought I'd see how pictures of aircraft turned-out and see if perhaps if it's more difficult than I thought taking pictures of craft moving across the sky (and actually it was a bit more difficult than I expected and I had the advantage of having a camera all set-up ready and the knowledge of the general direction, speed and path that the planes would take). That's funny, I thought, I don't remember seeing the prints of those plane shots in the envelope of photos I collected from the developers a few days back. So I had a look through and sure enough they were missing. So then I went to check the negatives, because sometimes if you have very dark exposures on your film the developer just thinks they are un-exposed frames when scanning through them quickly on the machine and does not print them (so in that case you would have to goback and get those frames specially printed). So I looked through the negatives (which were also in the envelope collected from the developers) and to my amazement I found that the negative frames for my plane photos had been nicked!!! Audaciously the individual frames in question had been actually cut-out of the strips of negatives. Bastards! Those gap-year-idiots must have stolen them thinking they were ground breaking pictures of alien UFOs and they probably envisaged being able to sell them for a fortune to the papers or whoever. What a bunch of idiots. I was slightly upset about having those negatives bastard-well stolen but I decided not to involve the police because the feeling of indignation was far far out-weighed by the great amusement it gave me, and continues to give me, when I think of them trying to do shady deals with the press, trying to peddle those bogus UFO negatives when they are actually just pictures of Bowing 707 planes, and so on, through a city fog. WHAT A BUCH OF PLONKERS!

#38

#37

(Apologies in advance because the spelling checker is refusing to work and I'm in a hurry so you'll have to fight through the bad spellings and typos...I don't even know how to spell 'apologies' -- I seem to remember there being something unusual about it like it maybe only has one 'p' in it despite words like 'appear' having two.. or am I thinking of something else...hmmm)

It's 10:28pm (19th Dec) and I've just been on a walk to stretch my legs. I walk along a few streets which are a bit more secluded and less urban than most around where I live, they include a stretch along side a grave yard and some quiet back streets that may only see a moving car every ten minutes. I go walking at night when it's dark... for a number of reasons -- one because the air is so much fresher-- you can really enjoy those deep breaths, there being not so much diesel soot and general pollution in the air, and every thing is much more peaceful too -- most conducive to the art of contemplation. Also at this time of year you get a bit of a preview at some early Christmas lights put-up by outward thinking folk in their gardens, front windows or under their eves. One thing that hath no lights however is the typical stealth cyclist which I usually see one of when I take one of these walks... these are people, fools, cycling along the main road at night dressed in very dark, if not black, clothing without any kind of cycle lamp adorning their vehicle what so ever. Even their bike is usually very dark and drab, with mudded-over reflectors...how long can these people live I wonder? This group of people must reproduce early in their life in order to continue their 'death-wish human sub-species' because they surely can't have a life expectancy of much above 22 years... I certainly never see old or even middle aged stealth cyclists. Oh yeah and one more thing .. stealth cyclists never wear helmets either. The stealth cyclist is in stark contrast to the 'pavement cyclist'...the pavement cyclist is almost always cycling along the foot path with bright fully functioning cycle lamps front and rear (usually those attention grabbing flashy ones) merrily luring cars into lamposts on thick foggy nights, and they usually wear bright clothing and a cycle helmet too-- cycling on the pavement is obviouslty just not safe enough for them! If only these two extreme groups could some-how learn from each other. Either of these illegal types of cyclist (which I seem to see more of at night than any other type) would have infuriated my Dad who in his youth was fined for cycling without a lamp. There was obviously zero tolerace on these kind of things pre-war compared to today.

There is anther reason I go for a walk in the dark... it's because there is less chance of meeting people and possibly having to actually talk to them and having to think of something interesting to say which does not come easily to me in the 'off-the-cuff' time-frame due to my very very slow brain... if I do have to suddenly talk to people who I've not expected to meet I can hardly string more than two words together and the other person must go away thinking I'm some kind of uncommunicative retarded fellow (which I am in some respects) ...... and besides, night-time walks are better because there are some people you don't want to meet at all, arn't there? I capitalize on the fact that people are more cautious about making eye contact after dark ( presumably incase you be a hoodlem ) and that there are less people out-and-about to start with ( presumably because they stay indoors lest they meet a hoodlem ) and I walk and think uninhibited, safe from being accosted by one or two of the obligatory annoying people one gets to 'know' when you live in the same area most of your existance. I have in the past been accused of being antisocial and when being accused I have acted all offended, mortified even, and I've insisted that although I may well be unsocialble due to being generally socialy inept, I'm not actually antisocial. "Antisocial!", that's an insult I would protest... however after thinking about the nocturnal timing of my walks, whilst walking tonight's walk: I think probably those accusers perhaps, maybe, have a teeny tiny semi-valid point. I'm a strange mixed-up kind of semi-social animal you see -- I hate big party-like gatherings which consist of a large proportion of strangers, but I'm very susceptable to lonelyness and I don't find it hard to get a-long with people really, infact I love us humans, I think we're ace, a much miss-understood species, I'm far less synical about the human condidtion than most, far, far, less. If you watch the news you'd think all us humans are murderous selfish shallow bastards, but nice ordinary folk just don't get on the news do they? And ordinary people make-up most people. After-all we're the only species proven to exhibit true altruism (although to be fair if your pet cat, for example, were to have altruistic urges how would it put those into action in a way we would recognize?... it's hard to be altruistic without money, hands, speech and a powerful brain and so on -- I mean, they can't reach the charity collection tin can they, nor grip a coin in their furry little paws, the most they can do is leave a dead rat on your mat which cats find to there dismay is a largely unappreciated gesture ). Since all the shit on the news must be caused by such a small proportion of humans then I feel that once we find a cure for the condition of being a sociopath ( which accounts for about 4% of the population ) then this would be a significant improvement in the human condition reducing some of the shit on the news: there would bound to be a drop in pre-meditated murder (where the motive is a selfish one), and there'll be less rape, massacre, torture, explotation etc. I suppose they'd still be as many wars started for reasons of greed, but hopefully a reduction in those started in order to 'wipe the others out' or to ethnically cleanse.

Generally I find I do a lot of thinking on my night-time walks and think-up more things to whinge about, I mean discuss, than I could ever find time to type-up for this blog. I had thought doing this blog would prove therapeutic and that all the thoughts circling in a holding pattern around my brain would come into land in the form of blog entries which would free-up my mind, free it up to do great things great things (some hope), but no, it has not even freed my mind to do things, quite the opposite has happened... I just think of more and more junk, my head's full to bursting now. It hurts. Now I just spend my time trying to keep multiple threads of though going long-enough 'til I can get to my lap top or find a pen and paper. I have a stack of half finished blog entries about all sorts of issues (whether it be atheism, a deep analysis of the microcosm of the film Tron, instructions on how to maintain an organic lawn,or whatever) blog entries that I hurriedly managed to typed-in (or typed-in an instruction to myself to type it in later) before whatever incredibly insightful-ish thought runs-out of fuel and drops-out of it's holding pattern and crashes and burns never to grace my noggin again.

#36

The goose is running and Christmas is getting fat. For me at the moment seems to be a bit of pre-Christmas quiet before the storm. If you're a bloke and you're taking full advantage of your stereotypical blokey mentality, like me, then you will be leaving all Christmas preparations till the last possible minute ...and if you have managed to remain oblivious to the impending panic then, like me, you'll be actually enjoying a happy mellow period as the general air of expectancy of the holidays amongst friends and colleagues becomes infectious, and the odd festive precursor like a mince pie or two and the few white frosty mornings we've had this week, start to set the mood.

The quiet before the storm takes many forms, like for example I'm looking forward to there being far less weary-some traffic on the way to work due to children breaking-up from school and due to some commuters starting their hols early. Timmy Town, on the other hand, does not look forward to the school holidays, because, as she complained last Sunday at the customary gathering round Russ's: there is, of all things, a distinct Frosties shortage during school holidays, presumably from hoards of juveniles on a backlash from school dinners gorging themselves all day on multiple bowls of sugar-encrusted cereals, whilst Timmy Town, alas, hath none, all sad, peering into an empty breakfast bowl.

The last Sunday gathering was adorned by Russ's new 42 inch (or one of those really big sizes)high def TV, fully wired for hi def via a PS3 and cable TV, we merely had Russ's projector to watch movies on before, how impoverished were we?... seriously though, I'm more impressed with hi res TV than I thought I was going to be -- the way you can see the patterns on people's irises on portrait shots is really impressive, perhaps even it'd take a bit of getting used to.

Hermit, not all that unexpectedly in my mind, has gotten into the final of the IGF video game writing comp with Studio Work3, for Ooki Bloks. The clever thing about Ooki Blocks, where Hermit is concerned, is to do with the sounds that are made by your character in the game as it rebounds around the levels and collects stuff and all that. These sounds are cleverly manipulated or contrived so that they are in time and in tune with the main background music... maybe even the back ground music is adapted live, I can't remember. This is a development in video game that is well over-due in my opinion...with most games it'll remain impossible or undesirable to do this, but for some games, like Ooki Bloks it must add a lot to the satisfaction of game play -- the fact that you contribute to the sound track rather than detracting from it when playing the game -- normally the sound-effects (eg. bags, crashes, swooshes etc) of what your character does on screen over-ride or upstage the music to some extent at least, but with Ooki Bloks your actions should instead add to the music -- music and sound effects co-existing in perfect harmony. Would it only be that directors of some music videos could learn this lesson and harmonize what is happening on screen with the music -- some of the poorest examples make me so mad -- sometimes people can be doing something really abrupt like jumping-up and down in the video and it's not in any way in time with the music. Bah.

Oo-yack! (that is, as I remember it, the Finnish for 'yuk', in phonetic form). Oo-yak!! Why? Because I had a cup of tea from a bad tea bag on Friday. From what I gather I'm one of the few people who can taste when a tea bag has gone off in it's early stages of going-off-ness. I think it is because I have been sensitised to the particular taste. The taste is basically like how rotting Altumn leaves smell, if that makes any sense. We (Russ, Barkfoot, me, etc) nick named Earl Grey tea as 'twig tea' because of it's unusual taste... and a cup of twig tea is the traditional initial gesture of hospitality at one of Russ's Sunday gatherings --Russ brews you-up a nice cup of twig Rosy as soon as you arrive. By chance, last year, in some sort of emporium, Barkfoot came across a type of tea that was actually made from twigs, and he brought some of the tea bags to Russ's for general sampling. I had a cup of it and thought it was quite interesting, not an every day drink for sure but none the less a taste I thought I'd like to sample now and again, and so Barkfoot gave me a couple of bags to take home which I put in my bag and... promptly forgot about for the next six, maybe 10 months. Still, not wishing to be wasteful, upon their eventual discovery, I brewed-up a cup of (actual) twig tea and started drinking it... there was definitely a 'funny' secondary taste to the tea... but again, not wishing to be wasteful, I drank on. The taste kind-of accumulated in my mouth and became more and more horrible, and soon over-powered the taste of the tea itself. But again, not wishing to be wasteful, I drank-on. I finished the cup of tea and, as it turned-out, any desire to drink any other cup of any kind of tea for the next few days. I felt totally nauseous for the rest of the day with this indelible taste of rotten leaves in my mouth. Now if I have a cuppa made from a tea bag which is even remotely thinking about going-off, in a way as ordinary folk would not notice at all, it makes me feel really repulsed for a couple of hours.



Oh yeah by the way ... have you ever had a 'custard apple'? What is this custard apple of which I speak? you might ask. Well it's doesn't look like much like an apple, and it's much softer, but it is some type of fruit or veg (I know not if it groweth on the branch like an apple though). But I don't think you will ever find another example of a fruit that is so aptly and exactly named as regards its taste. It tastes exactly like apple and custard (probably lightly stewed apple and custard)... plus, perhaps, there is a very slight third taste -- perhaps a slight taste of strawberry, I'm not sure. I cut mine open and spoon-out the soft flesh. I don't eat the skin or seeds -- I think that's probably right, but what do I know, your guess would probably be as good as mine on how to eat'em. Anyway,if you're interested, keep your eye's open in the shops next year about October time (if this year was anything to go by). If you do get one then don't delay in eating as they go off very quickly -- they go ultra soft and crack and ooze very very very sticky goo, presumably, appley custard tasting goo, from the cracks. I have a very bizzar plan.... and the plan is to grow a custard apple orchard and make custard apple cider...mmmm... more of a yummy dream than a plan -- I never expect to do it, and as I said, I don't even know if the things grow on trees or anything.

Well now it's Sunday already and the ramp-up to Christmas is starting to pick-up a pace. There is already illogical extra panic-buying styley Christmas grocery shopping to do (my Mother was most insistent yesterday that we stock-up on many extra items that I've never in all my life known not to be in plentiful supply right up until Christmas Eve and all through Christmas but by her general tone you would have thought yesterday was the last chance saloon for these items). I have allowed myself to properly listen to Slade's famous Christmas song for the first time these festivities which is an official mile-stone for me. It is a bit like me not letting myself listen to any Beach Boys music until about July so that the surfy vibe it creates does not become lack-lustre by the time my surfing season actually starts in late September. Lets hope amongst the eventual Christmas panic I get time to do my Christmas blog entry -- it's bound to be the last this side of Christmas day.

#35

There's been a bit of talk about the Union Flag lately (or the maritime version: the good old Union Jack). People have commented that it should have the Welsh Dragon on the flag to represent Wales. I agree that something for Wales should be added. I spend probably more time than anyone thinking about what a new Union flag should/could look like, and I can tell you it is one of the most difficult ponderings you could set yourself. It's easy to see what is wrong with it now: it is too English-centric -- the cross of Saint George is too dominant and crosses over all the other countries' flags. The ideal situation is that each country is represented in equal measure and one does not upstage the other.... and that is one hell of a task. You certainly would not be able to please everybody, but would hopefully be able to please most of the people of each country. So what are the problems? For starters there are so many ways the dominance of one county's graphic can be interpreted -- the surface area it covers, the positioning (for example if it is in the centre or at a corner), the vibrancy of the colours, how it over-laps other graphics or is over-lapped by others, and... if say Wales was represented by a dragon but the other countries by crosses, then how do you compare the dominance of pictorial images, like a dragon, with geometric images, like crosses? I've had a few attempts at designing one (and writing this is making me want to have another go now)... I have found it's easier to make it fair for all if you put graphics side by side (rather than over lapping) but you tend to end-up with something very finicky, cluttered and detailed. The current Union Flag, although too dominated by the cross of Saint George is, a very clever design aesthetically speaking -- very bold and eye catching, we really want something equally as striking, and not a fiddly mish-mash. Also how far do you go in recognition of countries? Should you include Cornwall as well? I'd say yes -- personally that's where I'd draw the line. The current flag, or so I understand, does not include Wales or Cornwall because they were already lumped-in with England at the time of the final union... so I think we should go back before that, but how far should we go back in time? Some mad folk would even have the Kingdom of Mercia on the flag -- I think that would be just plain silly, however I can't think of an objective reason for it to be rejected... but, well, as I say, the new flag would not be able to please every body, so all we can do is try, and I think we definitely should. If I ever come-up with anything that even satisfies me, let-a-lone the whole of the UK, I'll post it up, I hope others out there are trying too. Being a cultural ignoramus of the English variety does make it somewhat tricky for me to put myself in the position of what the other countries like Scotland would want... but the more I learn and the more I think about it the closer I may get to solving the puzzle (to my own semi-satisfaction at least).

#34

The ghouls are gathering and sharpening their horrible little pointy teeth. They are excited because apparently there is some big boxing match about to happen in Vegas. Civilisation has progressed much since the law of the jungle reigned... punch-ups between men over women have quite rightly been outlawed and indeed frowned upon, punch-ups over territory have quite rightly been out-lawed, punch-ups over your or your loved-ones' honour have quite rightly been outlawed, duels and brawls alike... so why, oh why, is it OK for a punch-up to take place in the name of mere sport or entertainment???? Just because both parties consent does not diminish the barbarism. It is a sport where each opponent hits the other as hard as possible and, although thankfully rare, fatalities are inevitable. If you hit someone in an every-day situation, where it is not self defence, and you deliberately meant to hurt them, and that person dies as a result (even if not immediately) then that's man slaughter, surely.... but for some reason as long as it's for entertainment then that's OK? No, feck off. Time to grow-up and join the rest of civilization. War and self defence is the only excuse for violence, i.e. out of desperation or protection, not for a fecking good night-out or an entertaining night on the telly. How can people hope to stop war when they can't even stop violence for entertainment's sake. Any violent contest (in the UK) is totally illegal except where the opponents are human, for example: dog fighting or cock fighting -- it wasn't always that way of course, but because civilisation gradually progresses they are illegal now, so when are we going to get round out-lawing such violence between humans too???