Down the rabbit hole...

The answer to all our problems it would appear, simply listening to the blustering and blathering of one pompous self-righteous, self-serving politician after another is, very simple, bring back jobs that have been lost. And the best way to do that is accuse others of cheating the system, that'll be the same system put in place by the people now complaining about people cheating the system, point at them in a random kinda way and then put some form of tax upon the things they produce so that similar goods made in the home country are competitive. Competitive in this instance being like running a 200m race against a faster competitor and tying their shoelaces together to slow them down. From an economics perspective clearly it makes no sense. The thing you bought last week now costs 25% this week regardless of where it was made and the quality is probably no better, who knows might even be worse. But the additional amount comes from your pocket and the money coming in has not

I wonder about Liberalism. I believe I am liberal in my general outlook. But I guess it depends how you define liberal. I have such simple definitions, I think. I like simple, stops me getting confused and then those raging headaches were I wake up several days later in another country with more money than I started out with and a distinct smell of fine rum in the air. But anyway, liberalism... I equate liberalism with tolerance. There you go, nice and simple. I feel liberal (and almost certainly self righteous with a delightful scent under my nose) because I feel tolerant towards others. Granted it is not always my first thought, sometimes my first thought is definitely not liberal. But once my liberal, logic circuits kick in I definitely feel more liberal after that. So I am a little more tolerant of people saying things that might seem unacceptable or doing things that might seem unacceptable according to various standards on what is acceptable or not depending upon which cent

That recurring nightmare of a train out of control, speeding as fast as it possibly can, the engine screaming as it reaches maximum revs and then exceeds them into the red line area of certain demise. The drive with maniacal eyes and the smile of a man possessed with the cruellest and most demented of all dementors, his blonde hair moving slowly as though caught by the air but reacting in slow motion, almost as though they were blond snakes slowly writhing upon his head. And the gates to which he heads remains firmly locked against his madness, determined to keep this madness locked in. But still he comes, speed increasing, no way of stopping him now. And next to him in his cab are the team he has assembled, a troupe of fellow inmates determined to be released from the shackles to which they are still firmly locked only now the key is held by the madman to which they have sworn unbending, unswerving allegiance. But they don't care, they are just happy to love their new dear lea

The clown approaches the sawdust filled ring. His stage, his platform, his home, his country. The audience awaits pearls of wisdom to gush forth from the painted red smiley lips below the trademark mop of blonde hair. Words are uttered, many words, many many many words. They sound right. The audience breaks into ecstatic applause, certain of what it has heard, certain that what was imparted was life affirming, certain that good times were soon to return. Days of wealth and prosperity and happy smiley people dancing around maypoles and clacking sticks together and all sorts of other weird and wonderful things from days gone by. And behind the painted smile, there is a real smile, a smile of a clown that knows he has the people in the palm of his hand and all that it takes is to repeat platitudinous statements about good times, about strength about glorious pasts, about having faith because not to have faith is negative and that's just the kind of thing that destroys countries. B

Have you ever noticed that you go through life and think, oh well, if this doesn't work then I can do it better next time. Everything from cars to houses and relationships and jobs. Or maybe even just a book or painting a watercolour. It struck me recently that at a certain point you suddenly stop thinking this and realise that the 'next' might already be the last or if not the current then the next might be the last. It's not that it's depressing or anything like that, it's just that it made me think. Generally, nothing hugely earth shatteringly mind blowingly thought provoking, just... thinking! And in the next next we appear doomed to one disaster after another, maybe they'll all happen at the same time just to get things over and done with and then if anybody is left over they can start all over again. Although it would not be a great existence. I spoke to some people that seem to overly romanticise a complete world reset with only a fraction of the p

I tire of having to listen to some people coming up with bollocks about democracy as though they have a God given right to be the arbiter of what democracy actually is. Whether this is bald headed failed political ex-leaders fawning over bumbling fuckwits getting ready to lead the country into oblivion or extreme right wing fascist thugs berating hapless and to be honest, totally incompetent journalists about how he is being victimised for being a fucked up bully who has made a life and living out of being a twat. I'm sure all this is good for the hordes of like minded simpletons that watch eagerly for the next instalment while masturbating like a pack of deranged monkeys waiting for bananas to ripen but I'm sure as fuck that it is nothing to do with democracy. When half a dozen good old boys down the local blue rinse club quaff back on their mugs of Pinot and debate the pros and cons of a couple of public school fucktards while their wives say 'yes dear, that's righ

Seems that some people are getting upset with one Ms Widdecombe, aka Ms Windyknickers. Apparently she feels that we have been enslaved by the EU and now we are breaking our shackles and taking back our freedom sort or Roots like but less real and ever so slightly more Anglo Saxon whiteish! I guess there might be some similarities in as much as even once we are 'set free' we will find ourselves extremely poor and shunned by pretty much every nation on Earth, but heh, that's how it was in the 70s and that's how it'll be again. Who cares anymore! As for Ms Windyknickers well we, us over here on this little island off the coast of France, we stopped listening to her in about 1870 when she was wittering on about damned Prussians. Most of us had thought she was dead so it was a little surprising to us to see her popping up again in the EU at all let alone that she was going to say something that might offend somebody. She has a history of offending people, mainly tho

So I've been to the gym and done some DIY that has been on the to do list for about as long as to do lists ever existed and now I can sit back (until the next coat of paint is ready to be applied...) and watch a little Tennis. Well, I am but next to the ridiculously oversized TV, so over sized it feels more like being at Wimbledon than *actually being at Wimbledon and as I have been at the finals more than five times (I can't be bothered to add them all up but five or more...) I know what I'm talking about, which is rare so make the most of it. Oh yes, there was a point. Next to the TV (the big one...) is a large set of windows onto one of the several garden areas surrounding the house. What I can see is the many different birds that come to visit but today they appear to be acting more like invading hordes! I put up feeders for them and today they are starting on the feeders but then they are hopping down to various shrubs to clear off insects for which I am grateful.