verysleepyriver

The World of Mystery I is dead! Die Welt des Geheimnisses I ist tot!

http://wordyrappinghood.blogspot.com/

So I went to London again today - research and social activity.

Prince Charles, Britain's answer to Aung San Suu Kyi, got me thinking. In Britain, we are unable to protest and revolt properly. That's probably why we still have people like Ol' Charlie hanging around.

Sure, if there's a queue that has been jumped, a conversation not opened with a pithy comment about the weather or someone who brushes past us without looking apologetic enough then the complaints flow like a large river of...complaints. Today, I was sat on a bus going to Golders Green, it was just picking up some passengers while the car behind started beeping like something catastrophic was happening. The driver was being held up for a few seconds - like I said, catastrophic. Well, of course one is entitled to express dismay at buses for that highly outrageous habit of lingering around stops for a few seconds allowing passengers to board and alight.

Then one of the people coming onto the bus spent about a minute fumbling around inside their pockets for money. They are one of those sorts of people who look completely taken aback when they have to pay to get onto a bus...or for their shopping.

Perhaps the serial beeper had a point.

Henman loses again in the first round, how very English of him.

What with Herr Chancellor Braun proposing that we have a new 'British Day', I wondered what such a celebration might entail. I have previously mused upon the more comical side of Britishness previously (This is not the point at which I turn into one of those academic-type people who get excited when they repeat themselves thinking that it means they're more correct the second time around).

Anyway, back to the point, it got me thinking. How do you make a group of completely different people who live in the same place feel like they have always belonged together? That's the problem with being British, see. In the past, it was easy. We had democracy - glorious popular representation of the people. We loved freedom and it had always belonged to us. Then came the troublesome fact that Americans loved freedom too and were far more vocal about loving it, in their own loud American fashion, with the whoops and the hollers and the "Yows!" That's not to mention the flags, national holidays and the fact that someone actually bothered to write down their constitution. Not to mention that, but suddenly we realised that politicians were human like us and so make mistakes and do bad things. That made us lose faith in every political system available (because they all had politicians in them).

So, what now? We're no longer that proud of our liberal heritage that goes back as far as the time when Magna Carta (bless her) died heroically at Bannockburn defeating the skirt-wearers. Enter stage left - tolerance and diversity. We're proud of the fact that everyone is different. Just so things aren't too confusing for people - the old enemies remain the same - the intolerant Nazis who hated freedom also happen to hate racial tolerance.

Yes, tolerant diversity is the new liberal democracy. I don't know why we didn't do this in the first place. We're all Angles, Saxons, Normans, Vikings, Jutes and Danes now. Oh, and we're proud of it.

My resolution for the New Year tends to be, "I will not make any resolutions this year." Tomorrow, this non-legally binding commitment will be obsolete.

Before I start, try reading this verbose gem from the inappropriately named GENIUS Project (based in the University of Reading),

The project is structured around multifaceted incremental work plan combining novel content design based on new pedagogical paradigms blended with the e-learning environments to facilitate hybrid mode of delivery. This is combined with series of educational experiments on the target learner groups with possibilities to adjust the approach and disseminate the interim and final results.

Our pedagogical approach is based on the educational model which assumes that the learning process is an interactive process of seeking understanding, consisting of three fundamental components: Conceptualization, Construction and Dialogue. The relevant modules of the New Curricula are mapped onto these three components and a hybrid way of delivery is investigated through different scenarios.


You heard.

My resolution this year is to use fewer words. This does not mean that I'll be reducing all my utterances to Kraftwerk-esque brevity but I intend not to insert as many pointless words.

Knowharrimean?

...because nothing is happening. Apparently.

As I have stated on this blog before, I'm a keen consumer of news. Unfortunately, for me, there does not seem to be a whole lot happening at the moment.

Let's take the ITV news as an example. Some wags (like myself) call it, "The Sun News" ho ho ho!


Story 1:
Lots of snow in some parts of Britain. Snow...in winter would you believe?!

Story 2:
Lots of potential wasted here. Mass grave found in Karbala in Iraq. It must have been considered fairly important, as ten seconds were devoted to this story. The commentary went, "Saddam bad, killed people and buried them here." Only the most cursory mention that these people had risen up against Saddam at our instruction, then we left them, and the ITV blamed America for that. So, snow in Winter, Saddam is bad and America isn't that great either. Where's my news?

Story 3:
Many people going to the shops to buy things in the sales. Well, what a funny old world we live in! This is the post-Christmas counterpart of, "Shops announce disappointing pre-Christmas sales." I'm yet to witness a retail representative appearing on the news to say, "It's okay, you can stay at home, we have enough money now, thanks." Stranger things have happened though - it did snow in parts of East Anglia in Winter this year.

Story 4:
People affected by tsunami still recovering. I'm afraid the only news here is that we're actually bothering to go back and report on the people after flinging oversized charity cheques at them.


Things do happen over the Christmas period - we stop, but the rest of the world does not. And how about more stories like this?

Extract:
Up to 200 extra armed police officers are to be deployed on the streets of London in response to rising gun crime and the shooting dead of a police woman in Bradford.

I know the world is supposed to be getting smaller, but this is ridiculous. In the words of the great philosophers at The Sun, it's political correctness gone maaaad.

Shalom!

I hope you've all been having good times with your wives, children and other hangers-on.

The other day, I went to the freemason lodge on Great Queen Street in the City of London.

Exhibit A:


Sadly, there were no upturned trouser legs or giant plastic antlers in sight. The disappointment! Up until my visit there, I was unsure as to whether I thought masons were a load of overgrown schoolboys or an omnipotent hydra with tentacles reaching far and wide into every area of international government. I don't even know if hydras have tentacles. The masons make things a whole lot more difficult for budding conspiracy theorists as they carry out lots of their activities in secret. That means there's the small matter of the fact that you can speculate all you want...they're secret so you don't really know.

Anyway, I'm not sure that I could seriously consider joining an organisation which is simultaneously in league with Communists, capitalists, Nazis and neo Nazis, the Vatican, Jews and the Illuminati. To make that many enemies in one go would be suicidal and I wouldn't really fancy jostling for supremacy with all the other groups that run the world.

Oh, and by the way, most of them are lizards.

A big difficulty, for a blog writer like myself, is struggling with the feeling that you are sliding into pretentiousness. I make the qualification of "blog writer like myself" because it seems that not many blog writers do struggle with the feeling. Basically, I'm reminding you of my past good behaviour in order to excuse what I am about to do.

Now, I'm not expert in international relations but I don't think it's too simplistic to say that they're a lot like normal relations but over a long distance. Everyone knows long distance relationships are doomed to failure. I rest my case. Actually, I do not. This, for example, seems to me like the President of Iran is preparing the ground for when there is more blatant US/UK aggression against his country. He'll be able to claim that the West is doing it all in support of Israel. America is yet to attack a nuclear power in its history, we'll have to see what happens. My advice would be, start an End of the World sweepstake and rejoice if you draw Iran out of the hat. Condolences to those who get Luxembourg. Maybe, just...maybe. Anyway, I don't think Iran has gone nuclear yet so maybe there'll be something in the way of bellicosity soon. Perhaps Israel will launch a pre-emptive assault. They'd also be a good bet for your End of the World sweepstake.

Well, okay, I'm back for a while. My apologies to those adoring fans who were kept waiting - if it's any consolation (I only ever say that when it definitely isn't) - I haven't just been sitting on my backside doing nothing. Which segues neatly into the uncomfortable part:

1) Complete a credit/debit card transaction, saying "Cheers" or "Thanks" no more than two times.
I'm getting quite adept at the fine balance between the twin precipices of gushing British sentimental formality and genuine gratefulness.

2) Quote an entire Shakespearean sonnet.
Errr...shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May. And then something about summer having too short a lease or something. That's the British housing market for you.

3) Make eggnog.
This is an official application for a deadline extension until Christmas, please. Mitigating circumstances.

4) Say that I've read a book by Jane Austen.
I could say that but I'd be lying. On a more positive note, I can quote the first line of Pride and Prejudice which means that I can pretend to have read it. No one's going to ask me to go beyond that.

5) Walk into at least one place in the world and say, "The usual, please."
I did this last night, as it happens. You'll be pleased to know that I did receive my usual.

In other news, I've started kung fu. More to follow.

I hope this satisfies for the present - there will be more in the next few days.

I've decided to cut back on my internet use for the foreseeable future in order to cultivate a life and also to keep me from going peculiar.

When I come back, I shall be using the following criteria to judge whether my time away could be considered productive.

I shall be able to,

1) Complete a credit/debit card transaction, saying "Cheers" or "Thanks" no more than two times.

2) Quote an entire Shakespearean sonnet.

3) Make eggnog.

4) Say that I've read a book by Jane Austen.

5) Walk into at least one place in the world and say, "The usual, please."

Shins have only one function in life and that is to locate items of furniture in the dark. Mine worked very well the other night as I managed to trip over my own bin.

Hello.

Have a look at this picture of the London bus that was bombed.



Out of curiosity, I visited the website of the company Kingstar (the van in the foreground).

Would you marry this man?

You've probably heard it said that "There's an exception to every rule" or on discovering an exception to a rule, someone exclaiming proudly, "Well, there is the exception."

We live in a crazy world. Sometimes it helps to stop and consider exactly how strange it really is.

I have never taken logic classes but even I know that if you find an example to disprove a rule then the rule is abandoned or modified. If someone says, "It never rains on Wednesdays" and then receives a soaking the following Wednesday, you can truly state that the rule is incorrect - on at least one Wednesday, it has rained, so the rule is wrong. Using the "There's an exception to every rule" approach, the fact that it rained on the Wednesday proves the statement that "It never rains on Wednesdays."

"There's an exception to every rule" is a rule itself. That means that somewhere, there's a rule which has no exceptions. Using the above logic again, that proves that the rule is correct, even though that would mean it is completely wrong.

Crazy world.

Mohammad Sadique Khan, Hasib Hussain and Shehzad Tanweer were all normal people, apparently. Many people are expending a lot of effort agonising over this fact.

I can't put it any better than the great philosopher Leonard Cohen. So I won't.

'All There is to know about Adolf Eichmann' by Leonard Cohen

Eyes: Medium
Hair: Medium
Weight: Medium
Height: Medium
Distinguishing features: None
Number of fingers: Ten
Intelligence: Medium

What did you expect?
Talons?
Oversize incisors?
Green saliva?
Madness?

In two completely unrelated events, President Bush is injured in a bike crash and also warns Londoners to be vigilant.

If there is any one who is still reading this, I must apologise for the long wait for a new blog entry.

Mainly, this is down to my delusions of grandeur. There is a temptation to want to change the world when you write a blog. If it's a piece about various injustices in the world, it's a miserable failure if people reading it don't write to their MPs, go out and protest and camp outside the Houses of Parliament for four years.

This got me thinking. There are so many blogs, columns, protests and diatribes flying around on the internet - what does this vast array of typed information amount to? I would say that it shows that we all are far better at speaking than listening.

A wise man (I assume it was a man quoted in the time when women were considered incapable of wisdom) once observed that we have two ears and one mouth and therefore should do double the amount of listening compared to speaking.

Another wise person said, "Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes."

I'm sure that most of you have been hassled by chuggers at some point in time.

Chugger (n.) plural chuggers - charity muggers, verb - to chug

You know the deal. Camp males and unnaturally gregarious females (dreadlocks usually a requirement) chase you around your town centres.

You might wish to quote to them a 2005 amendment to the Serious Organised Crime and Police Bill.

Section 116

“(1A)
A person must not pursue a course of conduct —

(a)
which involves harassment of two or more persons, and

(b)
which he knows or ought to know involves harassment of those persons, and

(c)
by which he intends to persuade any person (whether or not one of those mentioned above)—

(i)
not to do something that he is entitled or required to do, or

(ii)
to do something that he is not under any obligation to do.”

There you go. Throw the book at them. Actually, don't do that, you might get an ASBO.

Oh, by the way, it also feasibly restricts your right to protest in the form of leafleting and stopping more than one member of the public to explain your protest and get their support.

Goodbile.

Dw i newydd benderfynu i wneud cofnod blog yn Gymraeg. Dim rheswm yn enwedig. Efallai fod e'n perthyn i'r ffaith fy mod i newydd eistedd fy arholiad ysgrifen Cymraeg. Sa i'n disgwyl i unrhywun i ymateb...neu ei ddarllen.

Ar ol i mi orffen y flwyddyn academaidd, bydda i'n ffurfio grwp i berfformio caneuon covers Cymreig. Fydd e ddim yn grwp cyffredin, gwnawn i ganeuon Saesneg wedi cael ei chyfieithu. Sut mae hynny swnio?

Pam ydyn nhw'n cael eu galw 'covers'? Dydy Jeeves ddim yn gwybod felly paid a gofyn iddo fe. Dim prawf.

Taclus.

Un peth arall, clicias i ar 'Spell check' yn ddamweiniol. Dydy LiveJournal ddim yn sylweddoli Gymraeg. Ffasgaeth. Hwn oedd y cywiriad mwya ddoniol:

blog bog, log, bloc, biog, bldg, blow, blob, blot, clog, flog, slog, Belg, Bligh, belong, Bloch

Dydy y gair pwysica ddim yn eu geiriadur! Ysgrifennwch at eich Aelodau Senedd.

Apologies for the long absence...exams.

I don't usually watch animals but lately, there's been a bit of a change in my household. A new species has come to my attention that hadn't been sighted in my area before. Let me describe it to you. Maybe you have seen it.

The species in question is the dangerous Yobbus Horribulis or 'yobs' in English (slow and loud for the French). It is highly predatory, having almost completely devoured the entire British population of single mothers on welfare and asylum seekers. This is quite an achievement because the latter was reputedly able to migrate North-West from Kosovo to your local Post Office to collect unemployment benefit within forty-five minutes.

The yob has been noticed many times, with its distinctive hoodie plumage, by tabloid animal-lovers, whilst performing its fabled 'happy-slapping' mating ritual, carrying out its social rituals on street corners and terrorising your neighbourhood. Now. Yobbus Horribulis is most likely to be spotted in the favourable season between General Elections and the passing of new anti-disorder acts by governments. Yobs are also one of the most sophisticated animals, with its own 'yob culture' which is currently peaking with something of a Renaissance period in Britain at the moment. The recent sightings, the latest in a long line of new species from the British underclass of wildlife, which have been discovered regularly since 1997.

In case you are tempted to take this warning lightly, you should be warned that yobs are simultaneously responsible for fighting in towns on Friday nights, mugging old women, assaulting strangers, hanging around in shopping centres, abusing teachers, getting pregnant at a young age and worrying sheep. They've probably got access to weapons of mass destruction as well. They swear a lot too but that is Wayne Rooney's fault.

If you spot one of these mythical creatures, the best advice is to shoot the yob and have it stuffed and mounted on your wall, next to your stuffed terrorist.

Don't have nightmares.

There are three things I want to do when I leave university.

The first is to join MI5, that's what I want to do for a job. So, to all you people who keep asking, I do not want to be a teacher.

The second is to start a bar brawl. You see them so much on the TV but not usually in real life. The closest I got to one was when a fight erupted in a pub just as I left. It was about football though, unfortunately and not honour. And no chairs came flying out the window, so it was quite a rubbish one really. I'd also like to leave the pub as the fight starts.

Finally, I would like to have an office. So I can laugh people out of it.

Next! Hahahahahahahahaaaa...