Do you know that story? A man, steeped in sin, his soul blackened with a lifetime of excess, dies and finds himself in Hell's ante chamber, where he is greeted by a bureaucrat with a clipboard. "Most impressive C.V.", says Hell's apparatchik, "Would you like to have a look around and decide in which of our special containment facilities you would like to spend your eternal life?"
"I get to choose?" asks our hero. "Most certainly," suavely responds his greeter, "Follow me."
The first containment facility is a large room, its actual dimensions disappearing into vasty darkness, filled with naked sinners, chained and submerged to their waists in ordure of a particularly unpleasant pungency.
"What else have you got?" asks our hero, his eyes watering. He is led to a second chamber, similarly expansive, similarly miasmic, where indescribable solids floated on the turbulent malodorous waters which reached the chins of the sinners.
"Got anything else?" enquired our man, heaving and retching. In a moment he is transported to the third facility, where he spies a group of men in lounge suits, unchained, drinking tea from bone china cups. He recognises a few Popes, some Presidents and Prime Ministers, engaged in exquisite conversation with each other. The ordure in this room lapped over their ankles, the occasional wave of pungent filth no higher than their calves.
" This will do," he gasps in relief.
At which moment the overseer cracks his whip, the bone china cups disappear and the tannoy announces: "Right lads, teabreak over, back on yer 'eads."
So that's me, holiday over, back on me 'ead.
 |
The sea road from Aberdeen to Orkney
|
In England, the sun shone every day, the trees were tall and thickly canopied, the fields were golden and the hay baled.
The fountains sparkled in the sunshine
and happy children frolicked in the waters.
And I could go to Marks and Spencers!!! Every day if I wanted to, bringing back steaks for the barbecue, steaks so tender you can cut them with a table knife, sweet summer berries and cherries, lemon and dill sauce to pour over smoked haddock.......
Did I tell you that when I moved to Orkney, I was so dismayed to find that the nearest M&S was either a 90 minute ferry ride followed by a 140 mile road trip or a 6 and a half hour ferry journey surrounded by drunken Shetlanders, that I wrote to M&S Head Office and told them of the marvelous marketing opportunity they would have by opening an Orkney store, where the population of 21,000 is swollen by 125,000 cruise liner passengers arriving annually between April and September,* and the nearest M&S is so distant it is impossible to rely on for a supply of steak and bras that fit. M&S, god bless them, sent me a very civil response, saying they would pass my suggestion to their Acquisition Team and thanking me for my interest. So, I wrote back, telling them about an available property on Albert Street - but, sadly, they neither responded nor acted upon the suggestion. I suspect they filed my letter in the mad-woman-with cats drawer.
* From the Orkney Islands Council web site:
All major cruise lines have visited Orkney in the last 3 years, and the 125,000 passengers arriving annually between April and September are enchanted by Orkney’s Neolithic and Wartime history, the splendour of its 13th Century Cathedral and the wide range of jewellery and arts and crafts on offer. The World Heritage Site of Skara Brae, Ring of Brodgar and Maeshowe located in Orkney's west mainland is renowned globally.
No Marks and Spencer's, though. No Trees to speak of. Hedgerows? Forget it. Lots of fresh air, however. Moving around fast.
Did you catch the GB News Hustings? Refreshingly amateurish presentation, but sameold, sameold schtik from the Truss and Sunak show. Sunak still bounding about the studio on his black pipe-cleaner legs and flailing his preternaturally-long arms, whilst the belligerent Truss, dressed in Tory-blue, attempted to suppress her Tory sneer and replace it with a winning smile. At least they are both holding to the Unionist line, although Gnasher still intends holding her unilateral referendum in 2023. Her legal team are attempting to persuade the Supreme Court that it will be lawful to do so, without Westminster permissions, because the referendum will be merely indicative and therefore not fall outwith delegated powers. Yes? And then?
Distressing news today that a young woman has been killed in a car explosion near Moscow intended to kill her dad, the philosopher Alexander Dugin. Darya is herself a philosopher, having graduated from the Faculty of Philosophy at Moscow State University, specialising in the political philosophy of late Neo-Platonism.
Darya describes herself as a political observer of the International Eurasianist Movement and an expert in international relations. Her field of activity is the analysis of European politics and geopolitics and the development of the multipolar world theory. She thought that the globalist moment is over and the end of liberalism has arrived, to be replaced by the complex and challenging process of creating multipolarism; that structuring civil blocs and dialogue between them should be the main task of all intellectuals. In an interview on the 27th May this year, she said: "The West's unanimous support for Ukraine in 2022, the supply of weapons on an unthinkable scale: it all feels like agony. The agony of a globalist regime that is beginning to lose ground to multipolarism. For me, the most important pain is that Europe has succumbed to the influence of globalist propaganda and, instead of remaining neutral, has sided with the war. In many ways, this was certainly the plan of the United States, which systematically and continuously provoked the entire conflict by supplying Ukraine with weapons. From the US alone (according to Transparency International), more than $658 million was invested in aid to Ukraine between 2014 and 2017." For expressing their views, she and her father were placed under sanctions by the US, Canada, Australia and the UK. And now she has been killed and her father endures the agony of losing his daughter. When debate moves from discussion to the planting of car bombs, when war is waged on philosophers, are we to understand that, actually, the pen isn't mightier than the sword?
In France the other day, an 83 year old naturist Frenchman, enraged by the development of his nudist beach into a libertine beach, drew out his carbine from his beach bag and shot a man in his 40's who was masturbating in front of a naked woman.
To lighten the mood, here's an early piece of Stanislav, discovered by mr verge:
SUMMER WITH STANISLAV,
DINING OUT
stanislav going out for
curry is, in house of ex-pats live up in Scotland, best part of England. Think
would get roast of fucking beef and pudding from Yorkshire (appen is fucking
right, lad, appen is right) or maybe tripe and fucking onion like from good
Queen Victorian cookbook - take ye one whole cow’s stomach and wash out half-digested
grass a bit and then boil ye it in large copper pan for several days with
cloves and quince and saffron and rosemary and tarragon and anything else with
disguising properties, consume ye it as quick as fuck with large draughts of
pale Indian ale to wash away the taste, or else just take ye away unto the
privy and sticketh thine finger down thy throat and sick ye the bastard up into
the pan, stopping only briefly on thy return to the dining room to interfere
with the twelve-year-old kitchen maid - something English, anyway, or even fish
fucking finger and chip with Heinz Tomato Ketchup would do for stanislav, but
no, fucking curry is, and other blokes is both fucking macho nutter Oh ah’m proper man Ah am,
curry gotta be red hot for me, like burning aviation fuel from nine fucking
eleven, otherwise is pansy, innit, and me, too, and I must have mine all
season-up with broken fucking glass and side order of drawing pin, marinade in
turpentine. Mah Mrs knows what I like and I like it proper hot. And then I like
to get liquid fire out from bottle and pour all over rotten stinking roasting
hot ten-year-old goat meat flown in special from Birmingham
HalalButchersUlike and would be better and less painful to take fucking
blowtorch to open mouth for thirty seconds. And to arsehole because next
morning has le posterieur flambee and firing red hot liquid shrapnel all around
toilet is, for fuck’s sake, would rather go out to auto-asphyxiation party with
lonely Tory MPs than fucking curry dinner with mad bastard expats. One bloke
pilot was with BOAC and play big white chief in India and everywhere really and
so proven record has of eating madness, slug and snail and snake and fucking
dog and horse and maybe five hundred degree Celsius dinner is no big deal to
him but stanislav think Lee and Perrins from Worcestershire Sauce is heavy shit
and attendance needs from brigade ambulance of Saint John the fucking Baptist
with Head Chopped Off From Body. Other bloke is Aussie and would shit eat so no
hope of helpings from him when is menu time. Hotter the Better, mate,
wossamatter, you gay or somethin? Wanna fight?
Stanislav think of doing
Bunbury like in great English poet Oscar Wilde - just send telegram to Curry HQ
and say Oh fuck me, cousin Bunbury dying is down in England, awful sorry but
come and assault digestive tract with vile, fiery poison made from dead goat
and firelighters I am most unfortunately unable to do, am deva-fucking-stated
at missing wonderful repast and companionship of fucked-up nutterblokes, please
tender regrets of mine to Lady hostess of fine soiree gastronomique, 4ever your
servant, stanislav. But Mrs says must go. Maybe can have flat tyre or
complete permanent refusal to engage of automatic gearbox in Subaru Forester
Sports all driving wheel sporting utility vehicle, instead of just most of
time, as fucking usual. No point is in change gearbox even for brand fucking
new bastard from factory, gearbox is shit, Google is full up of epic of
tribulation from owners of this vehicle, is one bloke on veldt in Africa been
seven years stuck, waiting for fucking drive to engage, another bloke is weep with
embarrassment in Anchorage Alaska, car stop at traffic light and take three
month to move away, is fucking rubbish, maybe tonight will save stanislav from
food poison getting…
Author: Mr Stanislav
Trochowski
Now Available
If the above essay has whetted your appetite for more from the originator of Call Me Ishmael, look no further than Ishmael’s Blues - which is now
published, in both paperback and hardback editions; both editions are
immediately available from lulu.com.
The paperback is also listed on amazon. Honest Not Invent and Vent
Stack, the first two books in the sequence are also available from Lulu
and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a
review on their website.
Ishmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should
follow these steps :
Unless you’ve done this
already, please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable
because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they
then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for
a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to
either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu
Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the
age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.
The book’s full title is
"Ishmael’s Blues – further Chronicles of Ruin", and the cover you'll
see is red with white titles and a picture of blogdog Buster retiring from the
fray, cat gloating from a safe distance. The cover is the same for both
editions.
Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr
Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux
At checkout, try WELCOME15 in the coupon box, which
(for the moment) takes 15% off the price before postage. If this code has
expired by the time you reach this point, try a google search for
"Lulu.com voucher code" and see what comes up.
With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK
address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.
 |
The grass took full advantage of my absence
|
.jpg)
40 comments:
Judging that there was no point waiting up for her nightclubbing skank of a daughter yesterday, mrs mongoose took to her bed. (Leaving me natch to wait up sober as in case the taxi of dad was required at 3am.) She got half way up the stairs when she turned ashen-faced and asked "Have you seen the Truss woman? She's madder than Maggie!" With this nugget of political insight delivered, the work of 59 summers, two generations of careful contemplation of the political classes condensed into a dozen words, she was gone shaking her head. Pausing at the top of the stairs the nightly ritual of took place of reading the energy meter Smart thingy. "Twenty-one pounds this week and it's August." Wait until February is doing its worst, kiddo, I thought to myself.
Of course, up in Orkney, mrs i, you cannot even burn the fallen trees for warmth. Unless you import them like Drax does. Tree pellets from America to make electricity. You couldn't make it up. If I had uttered the notion 40 years ago at Engineering School, they'd have whipped me senseless and thrown me out into the street.
And I have now caught up with the murder of the Russian lady. Her dad seems to have been some sort of Putin-explainer or perhaps excuser back before but the Rooskies are mad, hard bastards and always have been. It's like those Australian road signs - "There is no more petrol for 2000km! If you pass this sign without necessary fuel, you will die a lonely death by the side of the road!" All of Russia is like that. It's not like living in Kensington or Headington. A fuel crisis in Britain will kill a few old folk, excuse me, ma'am, in Scotland. A fuel crisis in Russia - one of which there isn't going the fuck ever to be because they'd all die - would see Putin on the end of a rope by the first snowfall. We are soft, scientifically illiterate, innumerate, engineeringly inept, decadent and now depraved.
It seems that the philosophising of disgrace never gets old.
Did you know btw that that lass that runs the RAF HR Dept - the one who wants 7% trannies and 6.5% vegans and 2% incels? That one - is a fucking dentist? The Rooskies are laughing at us.
Mr mongoose: you had better hope that British "intelligence" services were not involved in even the slightest of ways in the girl's murder, or things in Britain will get very much hotter than Stan's red-hot curry.
the assassination of alexander dugin's daughter is being blamed by the russian authorities upon ukrainian terrorists and alleged anti-putin russian accomplices who lurk seditiously amongst the citizenry, conversely, however, this outrage could very well comprise a false-flag attack staged by the russian intelligence-services themselves - in order to cement support for the war against ukraine and to create a security-based pretext for suppressing anti-government and anti-war dissent...
all of which is most ominous, because here in the dangerously disunited kingdom, neo-con nato-warmongers embedded within our own government will soon equally seek to blame the impending eruption of anti-establishment riots - or even an armed anti-government insurgency - upon russian terrorists and pro-russian british traitors, not only in order to incite hatred against russians - and thereby harden support for ever deeper involvement in nato's nihilistic war in ukraine - but also to conveniently distract attention from the disastrous domestic depression which - through historic economic mismanagement, needless lockdowns, and never-ending neo-imperialist war - they have themselves corruptly created.
of course, for whomsoever they believe they fight, these usefully rioting british idiots, tanked up-to-their ideological eyeballs on cia-coke, are - just like race-war-igniting antifa and blm in the states - actually being manipulated by deep-state western intelligence-services, and i have absolutely no doubt that, when the job of violent insurrection is done, the insidious insurgency-organizers - all well connected to the establishment - will, in common with their mercenary american counterparts, be handsomely rewarded by the cia for playing the rôles of agent provocateur.
unfortunately, we've seen it all before in 2011: murderous opportunist thugs, having battered to death a pensioner who's insolently complained about indiscriminate arson, then pathetically pleading poverty and hunger as a fake excuse for looting the top-brands of trainers from smouldering, often jewish-owned, high street shops - a sorry situation which is immediately reported in iran and russia as prima facie evidence of dysfunctional western society.
oh dear, isn't it always the left which rises up with a ridiculously righteous social vengeance, yet only against a conservative government - never against the shameless war-masturbating neo-imperialism of a cia-controlled labour-government?
labour is its name, genocide is its game: remember biafra, anyone?
yes, the left's been co-opted by the cia - lock, stock, and bloody oil barrel - thus, riddled with, and smeared through the actions of, centrally intelligent agent provocateurs, this same ludicrous left will - as in the militant seventies and eighties - once again be framed as red russian assets.
serves the useless violent idiots right
Ah, mr mongoose, I remember those taxi years, although it was generally to collect the ishmaeling girls from various evening employments. There was the time I turned up in my rather beautiful black BMW to collect the eldest daughter from her stint at a country restaurant. Waiting outside at stupid o'clock, alongside a scruffy taxi in the car-park, a bevy of totties off their faces came teetering out for their taxi: "No!" cried the pack leader, "we'll take the Beamer" and closed in on me. I growled through the window "This is not for you, this is for the waitress" and closed the gap to the staff entrance to avoid stiletto-heeled reprisals. Then there was the younger Ishmaeling's bar-maiding job at an even more remote country pub. The landlord favoured lock-ins and it was usually midnight, after the jovial late night drinkers staggered out and mounted their enormous four-wheel drive vehicles, before my ishmaeling was released. I did consider informing on the landlord, to save myself long vigils in the car-park, but was begged not to, as she usually got an extra bung.
And where did all this money go? Tickets for a Chippendale tribute act. I arrived, prompt to my appointed hour, to collect the girls. The street was deserted, the audience having long since departed. So I drove to the stage entrance, where my head lights lit up each girl lip-locked to an ersatz Chippendale. They were disinclined to drop their conquests until I mounted the pavement and made to plough into them. The boys fled and much grumbling ensued.
By the way, mr mongoose, is there a Bank Holiday crossword in the offing?
Well, mr ultrapox, my first thought on hearing of the death of Prince Charles' first wife was "they've finally done it" and had little doubt that the British establishment had ridded itself of an inconvenient princess. They did a great job, by the way, of rehabilitating the third person in the marriage, who is now all set to be Queen Camilla, despite all the protestations that she would never be queen.
My first thought on hearing of the murder of Darya Dugin was that it was the Ukrainians wot done it. On reflection, though, it seems unlikely. Neither of the Dugins held positions of power in Putin's regime, and although their nationalist theories may have annoyed the globalist West, their actual influence is debatable - apparently, Alexander's star had faded. Then there's the practicalities - how could Ukrainian zealots have entered a secure, guarded car-park and fixed a bomb to the car? That would indicate massive infiltration of Russia's security services by Ukraine. I could have believed a drone strike. Apparently, Ukrainians have long range drones of their own - not American weaponry, which they are not allowed to use on Russian territory; but it seems clear that it was a car bomb. So I guess the young woman's death was at the hands of a Russian faction. Maybe someone thought the Dugins were expendable and their death could be usefully blamed on Ukrainian terrorists in order to justify further action against Ukraine. Maybe someone was striking at an embodiment of nationalist thinking and it should be read as disillusion with the war. I think British or US involvement is unlikely, though - not because I don't think they are capable of it - of course they are; but I don't see the advantage to the West.
Anyway, if it becomes acceptable to blow up women with extreme nationalist views......
In some ways, of course, the killing of the loon's daughter rather than the loon himself is more of a call to arms, a greater outrage, and there he is on the telly with his head in his hands. Everyone's phone now an electric postcard of the hanging.
The Sunday Time trumpeted this weekend that the UK's spooks had done the spying on the Trumpster and that this had saved the "special relationship". This special relationship has troubled us before. If it's a relationship, who is in it? Is it the President and the PM? The two governments? Wall Street and the City? The two Establishments? The two Deep States, the integrated moiling outcomes of two centuries of plunder and pillage? I think that we should think on it a while.
Ah, yes, mr mongoose - Desolation Row.
i have no idea who bombed darya dugin's car, mrs ishmael, but when a pretty young member of the intelligence-services - such as jo cox or sarah everard - perishes to such great political effect, it is always my sincere hope that the death was faked - and that the person in question has in fact disappeared for reasons of personal security.
unfortunately, of course, it is not beyond the stupidity of western intelligence-services to commit an act so apparently evil as the assassination of ms dugin.
nonetheless, my concern is rather for security - and stupidity - in the uk, for just when our population is fully absorbed by the seismic spectacle of the british government stewing in its own juice - and is at last recognizing the culpability of parliament for leaving us all skint - this same undeserving government now seems set to receive political manna from heaven in the serendipitous form of a distracting and opportunist riot.
the dugin-assassination seems to mirror the skripal-poisoning: the attackers were rumbled before the act, but, having removed the targets to safety, the authorities allowed the attack to proceed, pretended that it had succeeded, and then tracked the perpetrators back to their western lair in order to score a maximum-propaganda-coup.
it's as you indicated, mrs ishmael: philosophers and all lower-rung intellectuals are now considered 'fair game' - but salman rushdie always knew that.
And speaking of the dastardly intelligence services, mr ultrapox, the Scottish news is all aflame with the tale of Jagtar Singh Johal, a British Sikh man who has been held in an Indian prison for four years without trial and allegedly been tortured. Mr Johal, from Dumbarton, was arrested by Indian authorities in November 2017, just weeks after his wedding, after British intelligence services informed the Indian authorities about him. He is to be charged with conspiracy to commit murder and being a member of a terrorist gang, which carries the death penalty. MI5 and MI6 are not supposed to share information where there is a risk of torture and death.
It is becoming that time, mrs i, to consider the notion that internationalism, workers of the world united, cross border co-operation, groupthink, globacorp has plundered Tolpuddle's soul and turned it to base metal. It is that time soon, I think, that the tree of liberty will be watered again.
Sorry, no, I don't have an xword. I had all the clues but I have been ill and I have lost it all, I will look, m'lady.
I read that Truss's finger is itching to press the red button. Two points she has yet to be acquainted with:
1. The US controls the firing of the UK's Trident missiles
2. If those missile were ever fired at Russia, they would be instantly detected, and hypersonic nukes would be launched in retaliation. Those hypersonics would strike and obliterate the UK long before anyone would know if the Tridents ever arrived (Russia has the world's best anti-missile defence, the UK has no missile defence).
She's nuts.
Sorry to hear you've been ill, mr mongoose, and that the dog ate your homework. I hope that you are now fully recovered, nose cold, eyes bright and tail bushy.
As for Truss, mr mike, we can only hope that she is controlled and constrained by whoever it is who is running this country, as she is absolutely not to be relied upon to keep Britain safe. Look at the havoc she has wrought as Foreign Secretary. God's sake, she was even encouraging stupid British lads to make their own way to Ukraine and volunteer to fight the Russians - that is, until someone stepped on her foot and suggested that open provocation of the Kremlin - not a good idea.
My fourth bout of the Rona, mrs i, and the worst. Although I am double-jabbed and tested negative, the symptoms were classic Rona. I am definitely on the mend though as you will find out below.
A damn crossword is created using an online grid and the damn clues and such are kept in a cookie. Or were. It doesn't matter. I will start again and it will be ready when it's ready.
Now, on the subject of nuclear Armageddon, the buggers can't run a simple English Channel patrol system. The buggers cannot look far enough ahead to build sufficient power stations. And the buggers are staffing the RAF with the alphabet soup brigade. Truss is walking into the Winter of Discontent 2: Starving to Death in the Cold Edition. She'll be toast just as soon as the blame for it all has been shackled to her lifeless political corpse.
I had a Dogshooter at the door today in a little orange T-shirt and carrying a clipboard. "Can I ask you some short questions for a survey, Sir?" "How many short questions?" "Three." "Oh, go on then." "On a scale of 1 (not serious) to 5 (very serious), how do you rate the climate emergency?" "Zero, but I'll have one if I must." The lad looked like I'd shat on his grandma's breakfast. "I err, don't think I'll ask the rest." "And there we are. Fiddling the results already and we're only one question in!", said I. To be fair, he saw that and asked me why. "Because I've been an engineer for 40 years and I understand thermodynamics, because of the data contained in the Greenland Ice Cores (Look them up!), and because it's been warmer than this for 10 thousand of the last 11 thousand years." He now looked as if I was going to force him to eat said breakfast at gunpoint. As no further words seemed to about to come out of him, the interview ended and I wished him a pleasant day. Mongeese 1, Dogshooters 0. Definitely feeling better.
Mr mongoose: in one short, erudite paragraph you neatly describe why the world is tuning to shit. Some mad idea becomes fashionable - nobody can really say why, and it doesn't matter what the subject is, but it is impossible to argue against it. Maybe its actually a transmissible illness - like the rona?
William Burroughs used to say that language is a virus, mr mike - maybe more helpful to imagine a swathe of them, some usefully symbiotic and others a fucking menace. Doorstepping dogshooters in the latter category, natch.
Glad to hear you're on the mend again, mr mongoose. (Did that errant copy of ishmael's blues ever show up?)
cheers
v./
Mongosling 3 was on the sofa while the interview happened, mr mike, and contained herself until the door was closed. She had a wee chuckle and then said that my survey was likely already scrunched up his pocket. Probably right.
The lad's face was a picture when called out. He knew. Which means he's clever enough to have reflection as the universe changes about him. But is he honest? That's his test tonight. Is he prepared to look?
No, mr v, but I can find no trace of the order ot the payment. So I probs just screwed up. Am I going to have to build another bookcase?
BTW, folks, I have discovered the Vostok Ice Cores from Antarctica. These don't do 11,000 years; they do almost half a million.
An image for you - it's backwards, today on the left - now what can this possibly mean but that we are on the edge of a very different cyclical abyss? And that CO2 in the atmosphere lags temperature by several hundred years but lag it it surely does.
From here. I shall have a root about.
whilst most people do not have much sympathy for murderers, terrorists, and gangsters, mrs ishmael - especially kilted ones - it is, in a world where misinformation may be supplied to the authorities, and where police make terrible misjudgements, still hugely important to maintain our principles of law and justice, lest of course innocent folk such as our good selves should come-a-cropper - or in the worse scenario, become subject to a terminal miscarriage of justice.
indeed, the news-story you mention reminds me of cases where murderous - but, upon arrest, unarmed - gangsters are gunned down by the police, for, whilst i believe that extra-judicial killing, or execution, must always be condemned and duly prosecuted, i also consider it highly inappropriate, nay wrong, to riot over such police-crimes - and that by far the best method of avoiding a lethal law-enforcement bullet is to abstain from committing violent crime which might test the fallibility of police marksmen.
with respect to related matters, moreover, i'm frankly rather surprised to learn that the british government is condoning, and even facilitating, the extra-judicial execution of public figures in russia, since to adopt such a cold-blooded principle will certainly now place our own political leadership in the firing line themselves...
are the members of our government clinically suicidal, or simply mad-as-fuck globalist martyrs seeking some twisted excuse to escalate the present grave conflict-of-interests into a jolly old whizz-banging world-war? well, for what it's worth in a nuclear winter-wonderland, my money's on the latter motivation.
when will these stupid neo-imperialist bastards ever learn...?
good work, mr mongoose - but of course 97% of scientists have known the truth about solar-centric climate-variation, all along.
now, all things being equal, you're probably dead right about a fast approaching glacial period...
however...
if - as neo-liberal hoaxters claim - the average global temperature really is rising, and yet such planetary warming has - as we know - bugger-all to do with co2-emissions, does this uncomfortable combination of facts signify that the angry sun-god ra is actually getting hotter and hotter under-the-collar, and that we are soon all going to receive rather nice sun-tans?
No, I think it means that the currently poorly-undersstood 100k year solar cycle is the root of the problem. CO2 does lag temp but it lags it two ways. There is the trivial quick way - heat the water and the CO2 comes out - but putting it back in takes way longer. Of course it does. The first is about heating seawater with the sun. The second is about a five thousand year old yew tree dying up a hill after five thousand years, and rotting away, and being flushed back into the oceans via a million biological pathways. That's more difficult to find using proxies. So there is no simple curve.
The other horrible elitist question is... "Academics say..." When I was a boy 5% of folk went to tertiary education and academics were the cream of that crop. Now they are the cream of 50% and that means jack shit. We have relatively stupid people with worthless degrees spouting arsewipe "science" to pay their mortgages. What we need, what we always needed is intellectual honesty and that needs intellect. Sorry for my deplorable lack of wokeness.
PS what's up with that Meghan?
i hate to be the one to break this to you, mr mongoose, but i fear that ms markup wants a bigger house - a white one, i believe.
email me a postal address, mr mongoose, and I'll gladly send you a copy.
cheers
v./
Congratulations on your recovery, mr mongoose - you are, indeed, back on fighting form. Have you found out what is causing these multiple Covid attacks? I've just had it the once, but it has left a legacy of joint pains. I've read that these are the consequence of many tiny blood clots lodging in the joints. "They" are working on a targeted treatment to destroy the blood clots. I'll just take an aspirin. Certainly stay away from the men with sharp knives and butcherly predilections for cutting into flesh.
As for the buggers being unable to run an English Channel border patrol system, it is crazier than incompetence. The protocol is that the small boats stuffed with fit, able bodied young single men who wish to illegally enter Britain, are escorted through French waters by the French authorities, then, when they reach British waters, our chaps take over and bring the illegal migrants aboard British vessels to take them safely into British ports. Farage was forecasting 1000 illegal migrants per day at the beginning of the week. It topped 1,200. This is just plain silly. Rwanda For Fuck's Sake begins to sound more and more plausible. Apparently, the Home Office is exploring similar deals with other African Nations, without much success.
And I heard a Ukrainian mother being interviewed on t'wireless, who informed the nation how much she missed her home land, what dreadful things she had escaped from and how grateful she is to Britain; but no, she doesn't want to return to Ukraine. What, not for a few months? inquired the interviewer, you will return when things have settled down? No, no, replied our heroine, I will stay in Britain. My children are settled in school. They have future here.
So, here's a plan. We'll call it Britain: Dating Agency Resettlement Project. The gentlemen being escorted into Dover by the Royal Navy will be matched with the tragically dislocated Ukrainian mothers and given a couple of acres in Caithness. There's nothing in Caithness. It is empty. Lots of land to go around. But, if they do fill it up, they could have Sutherland as well. Only the Vikings could consider Sutherland to be in any way a South land.It is almost as empty as Caithness. This would redress Scotland's dire demographic catastrophe - despite hospitals having emptied Covid positive patients into the care homes, many of the old buggers survived, and breeding is down, whilst young adults are dying of drug and alcohol abuse and thus no good at all economically or for breeding. Nicola Sturgeon has declared Scotland a warm and welcoming home for foreigners - so there you go - Job Done!
The thing is, mr ultrapox, that even if we keep our heads down, mind our own business and cultivate our gardens, we may still attract the attention of the security forces or the spite of a neighbour - I was sent on a preventing terrorism course by my local authority a few years back, which exhorted us to report to the police anyone behaving in an unorthodox way or using arguments alien to conformist thinking. Because these are signs that they have been radicalised.
And the fate of 9 year old Olivia, shot dead in her own home by a total stranger, collateral damage in some Liverpudlian underworld revenge attack, demonstrates that all you have to do is to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The police appeals for assistance in finding the murderer are risible, appealing to the better nature of killers and their acquaintances. Further proof, should we need any, that the police, contrary to all the TV police procedurals, murder mysteries and detective stories, solve no crimes whatsoever - just persuade folk to tell them who dun it, and, when all else fails, fit up someone handy. I'm still raging about the Guildford Four - more on that anon.
Apparently, Olivia was the fourth child in a matter of days to be killed in Liverpool.
Risible? You’re far, far too kind mrs I. The Polliss are nothing but a personal protection force of our betters. They’ve long gave up on service to the citizens of the nation. Much easier to patrol the mean streets of Twatter, for offensive thoughts, miss-gendering of muscular, bearded women or using the wrong pronouns.
AnfuckinGodhelpya if you’re a Woman at a memorial, to one of your own, who was kidnapped, raped and murdered by one of Scotland Yards finest. You’ll get a good kicking before arrest for gathering with too many others and not wearing a face mask.
mr inmate, I think it must be hell to live in any city in the UK. Before I moved to an island off the very north coast of Scotland, some 20 years ago, there were great swathes of cities that were not policed because it was "too dangerous". Constables were popped into police cars and given license to engage in high speed chases, at great risk to ordinary folk. Day to day law enforcement, visible deterrence - all gone. It can only have got worse in the intervening years. And yet, in small towns, villages and the suburbs, life generally proceeds in an orderly, pleasant way. Just tough luck, I guess, to be born into high-rise life in the depths of the City.
Please don't think me discourteous, mr mongoose - I have made multiple attempts to respond to your comments, but Blogger simply won't have it. My comment appears briefly, then disappears. Heaven knows what the issue is: I have reduced word count, which made no difference, and I called on the services of Editor Verge, who also tried to post my comment on my behalf - but it was not accepted. I think you experienced something similar, some time ago. The oddity is that other comments from me have been accepted - my response to mr inmate, for example.
Perhaps one of our more tech-savvy ishmaelites can tell me how I'm offending the blog gods.
your reply to mr mongoose has probably been spammed by blogger's neoliberal algorithm, mrs ishmael: in order to make the comment appear, go to the spam-comment-box and then mark the comment as 'not spam'.
That's exciting, mrs i, 'ave yer been swearing at me like a sailor? Or has some crazy wokery fallen on thee? I'm guessing the latter but do not worry about it. I prattle here mostly for what mr i used to call mental hygiene reasons. Sometimes a rant just clears the brains, so it does. But did think that y'all might want to hear about the Dogshooter's visit. They haven't been round here for many a long year. I think that somebody had put an asterisk on the list. Amazingly Mongosling3 had never heard of the Dogshooting Episode. ANd thought it great larks when I recounted the tale to her.
Thinking about it, you're probably getting cancelled for climate nonorthodoxy. It is quite insidious. And it is wicked beyond parody that some electric-billioned shite can decide what we may or may not say to each other in the prvacy of our own electric homes.
Come back, Auberon Waugh, to us now. He knew of the Dogshooters and of everything they threatened in their dismal, humanity-cancelling piety.
They are teeming into their Terrible Kingdom now. Have already teemed. St. Bron ora pro nobis.
I'd welcome some proper Catholic music, meantime, Mrs I. I'm ancient and stupid but can commend "If Ye Love Me", Tallis, on YouTube done during Lockdown by The Kings Singers. Almost makes the diabolical farce not entirely intolerable. Can anyone press the button to get it going on here? You'll like it if only for the sound, lyrics being optional.
Well, dog my cats, mr ultrapox, every day a schoolday. I never knew of a Spam comment box, but I looked for it on your advice and, sure thing, there were my multiple attempts to respond to mr mongoose sitting in there. I marked the comment as not spam, and lo and behold, it has appeared as above, dated 25th August at 10.35. I wonder what it was in my entirely inoffensive post that triggered the neoliberal algorithm's rage?
Thank you, mr ultrapox.
I'll set about responding to mr bungalow bill's request, now.
Also, Mrs I, you will have spotted my glancing reference to "Christmas in Washington" by Steve Earle. God, the melancholy. Can you engineer that one too?
No more requests then for a while.
Also, Mrs I, you will have spotted my glancing reference to "Christmas in Washington" by Steve Earle. God, the melancholy. Can you engineer that one too?
No more requests then for a while.
Sorry for the doubling, Mrs I. Fucking palsied ninny.
it's a pleasure to be of assistance, mrs ishmael, unfortunately however, there is no helping megamoan markle, who is currently complaining that peckish south africans peasants tried to barbecue her babies.
I'm grateful, mr ultrapox - it is a great tool. Now, do you know of any tricks to delete multiple mega-banks of Spam comments? There's some really tawdry stuff in there.
Post a Comment