Monday 24 May 2010

What Do You Know?


My video editor crashed when finishing this. At exactly the same time, the phone rang, a recorded message starting 'If you die without leaving a will....'

Saturday 22 May 2010

Junk Mail.

The mental processes leading to the creation of junk mail headers must be both remarkable and banal at the same time; the assumptions made are utterly fantastic.
Would I really be referred to as 'Mr. Voluntary'? Am I impotent because I'm in my forties? Even more amazing, are my own mental processes sufficiently malformed that I would seriously consider taking drugs to concentrate?
What the hell is it with people and 'drugs'?
Why do so many people hate their own nature so much that they would consider consuming chemicals to change or disguise it?

The answer is straightforward actually.

People who take drugs are judging themselves by unattainable standards, standards which it is not humanly possible to reach.
For this reason, they are already sick before they take the drugs. What happens after just takes them further away from being human.

Saturday 15 May 2010

Notional Health.

Imagine the relief with which so many doctors welcomed the creation of the National Health Service in the middle of the last century; no longer would they have to worry about the comparisons being made, the judgment suspended above them like the Sword Of Damocles by their patients.
The National Health service was the worst possible implementation of a bad idea, no-one would be able to trade off good repute, the patients would have no choice about their doctors, they would no longer be able to trade their custom and make the doctors work for their living.

So today, instead of a National Health Service where patients choose who treats them, based on publicly traded reputations, ie, too many people die at this or that surgery, don't go - they have to take their chances with the 'bog-standard' GP, the doctor upon whose judgment their lives depend being just a unit, a cog in the bastard machine.(And no, the SF Chronicle did not coin that phrase, I did, on the old Society Matters - but hey, that's MSM for ya!).

Where they could have had a system in which free care followed the patients and they could still vote with their (surrogate) government custom, a system was expressly designed which prevents all competition and thus eliminated the thrust to improve or even maintain standards; and where there is no motivation or sanction other than rarely used express punishments, then the standards established(in an obsolete age) will surely disintegrate.

Thus we will have medical students going to college for the drinking contests, hospitals which kill their patients with preventable disease, and Doctor Harold Shipman, the authority figure who was a law unto himself(according to the state model) and murdered dozens of people who innocently believed in the State Medical Care Scam.
And all sorts of crummy deals being made behind the scene by alleged doctors who are in with the in-crowd.

Sunday 9 May 2010

Latest Beer Bug.

Unexpected Behaviour.

When I got to Shirley's there was a lot of bustle; the preparations for the town hall party were being run from the bar.
There were about five crates on the jeep, two of rum and three of Scotch. She sent one of the men out to unload, then stopped and looked at me properly for the first time.
When our eyes met, she smiled, and I felt a stirring that had nothing to do with 'good turns' such as booze-hopping from the depot.
All at once she was busy again and I was left drifting. I couldn't leave it at that.
"Shirley? Anything else I can do for you?"
"We'll see. The dance is at eight."
"See you there then?"
She looked a little flustered. And not a little pleased.
"Yes. Now unless you've got any skill with bunting, lose yourself!"

Which I did.
I went back to my old hut by the airfield, the one with the plumbing for twenty and the peace and quiet.
Time to take myself in hand.
My demob sports jackets were in good shape; I chose the light fawn-coloured one, and pulled out a pair of gray-blue slacks.
Then to the showers. Ten minutes later, after a lukewarm hosing, I shaved. It didn't matter that I was strolling about naked. The big old Nissen Huts were deserted, apart from my Alsatian wandering about. Her name? Dog. A dog called Dog.
Anyway, I dressed and put on some sort of Italian cologne I'd traded off an Italian officer for cigarettes when we'd had a few POW trustees doing the cleaning back when I was trained.

I was definitely looking smarter than usual when, at a quarter to eight, I slung myself into the Jeep, jammed it into gear and set off for town.

As I passed Shirley's I stopped and went onto the veranda. It was open. Jack was behind the bar.
"The boss in?"
"Who, miss Shirley? No baas, she's gone to the dance."
"Okay Jack, thanks."
The town hall was only a couple of streets up in the square. As I turned off the engine, I could hear the sounds of laughter, music and conversation coming from the hall.
I went in.
The people were gathered in the middle of the dance floor, all clapping.
And in the middle was Shirley.
Dancing with Max Keiser. They were really cutting the rug.
As the tune ended, Keiser spotted me and grinned.
"Hello Billy."
The grin stayed just long enough to be a sneer, as I held his gaze. I heard myself saying,
"Hello Max. You're a little off course aren't you?"
"I don't think so."
He turned and looked at Shirley.
"I think I made what is called a happy landing."
"A happy landing is one you can walk away from...."
The grin vanished. The scar above the eye glowed under the lights. Then Shirley spoke up.
"So you two are old flying buddies? Come on. Let's have a drink and you can tell me all about it."
So she walked us over to the bar, one on each arm.

Wednesday 5 May 2010

Ubuntu 10.04

It's official. Lucid (Ubuntu 10.04) trashes all video. Don't believe what any gibbering fanboy says to the contrary.

Monday 3 May 2010

Pub Without The Crawl

Sadly Missed. Tragic.


Just learned today that Ofra Haza died in 2000. Apparently she caught AIDS from somebody despite being fastidious.
Her voice and music are truly wonderful, and bring back many memories of the times and places and thoughts I have held.

Saturday 1 May 2010

A Message To Rudy!

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