Tuesday, April 12, 2011

whale oil beef hooked

[There are no spelling or grammatical mistakes in the following vignette]
A colleague has been working with a graffiti artist. He's sitting doodling on scrap paper and has spelled, in flowing and ornate letters, the word DEBE. My colleague looks at it and says, "What's that, then?"
"Girlfriend's name, innit."
"Her name is Debe [pronounced Deeb]?
"No man, her name is Debbie. You know," pointing at the graffiti, "Deb. E."
"Does she spell her name like that?"
"I dunno. Probly. That's how is spelt, yeah?"

I can rest easy in the knowledge that our language and the young people wielding it are in good hands...

But that said... Are we breeding (I except myself from that generalisation) a future generation of incompetent nincompoops? A female friend, who is in a long term relationship with one of my relatives, posts on her Facebook page that she had had a really bad day which was horrible, stressful, painful and unfair and to top it all off she had really sore eyes from crying. Probably a little too much info for a Facebook status/what she is thinking update, but each to their own and all that. A number of her friends replied and all of them seemed to ask the same questions: is something wrong? Is she okay? and the remarkable - have you had a horrible day? It isn't even stating the bleeding rhetorically obvious, it's just totally DUH!!! I was just itching for her to post a follow-up saying - Have had a really horrible day, discovered that a lot of my friends were mentally deficient or have the compassion of a piranha fish.


Nostalgia bloomed yesterday afternoon as I spent a very enjoyable afternoon in the company of ye olde Jazz Butcher, in his courtyard garden, supping coffee, chewing le fat and reminiscing wistfully about the 1980s, friends we have known and loved and wankers. We also discussed football, but that's because we both share a passion for the mighty Tottingham Hotspurs.

I'd gone to see Pat to pick his well pickled brains about how I'd go about representing bands in the UK and to be honest none of the information he gave me made me want to rush out and start a new career as a music representative in 2011; but it was enlightening listening to a musician who sampled some interesting times in the indie world at a time when indie wasn't necessarily a recognised thing. The business has changed so much that he envisages a time when the album will become as important as vinyl is in the 21st century and there won't be new record shops.

It's been far too long since I sat down with my old buddy and just chilled - probably getting on for 20 years. Back in those days, Pat used to refer to me as 'Snapper Disgusto - world famous Russian cosmonaut' and claimed I'd make a living out of scaring children. His vision of my future sounds terribly exciting...


On Friday, I did something I haven't done for a long time. I had, I believe, 8 pints of beer. Two at lunch, on a sunny and warm afternoon with One El and a further 6 up at one of my favourite pubs - the Queen Adelaide, in the evening, with my good friends the Lloyd Brothers.

Jesus, I was drunk when I got in.


I've embarked on a new medicinal treatment for my back pain, my leg numbness and my general pissed off-ness at my, at times, raging bones and musculature. My gut feeling is that it's having a positive effect. I've been following this new set of drugs and relaxation processes for just over two weeks. I shall know if it has been a success by the end of May.


I should probably do this over on my politics blog, but...

It would appear that some of the LibDems have grown a pair. It's not necessarily going to do them any favours or win them much support back. The leader of Liverpool City Council - who just happens to be a powerful Liberal - claims his party are lower than snake shit and will be destroyed at the local elections at the start of next month. Good call - the man is right. Tories would normally get the backlash of a protest vote, but I think the general populace want to punish the coalition; the problem is they can't punish both of them; so Clegg's boys are going to take one helluva beating on May 5.

Now, interestingly (for me, anyway) is that the referendum on AV is the same day as the council elections. I've been sitting firmly in the NO camp since Clegg's tie-dyed yellow shirt was caught out in the rain and became a very deep blue. The main reasoning behind this is because it's what he wants and because of his allowance of this Tory leadership to do some shitty things to the country - without any resistance - when there were clearly better alternatives.

However, I'm not so sure now. The AV system might be complicated and will in some places allow the person who finishes 3rd to win (and can you imagine the test case lawsuits that we'll see if that actually happened?), but it also allows us all to place the Tory and Lib Dem candidates as 8th and 9th choices, so they literally disappear from parts of the country. I've always felt that tactical voting was the best ally of both Liberal and Labour in the FPTP process, because it allowed collusion to oust some snobby wanker, sorry, I meant Conservative, from getting into power. But this new AV system, which in some quarters is being claimed it prevents direct tactical voting actually allows tactical voting en masse to wipe out politicians and the evil, Tory hating bastard that I am sees this as a perfect way of screwing with Westminster.

You see, I think convincing non Tory voting individuals to put the Tory candidate lower down the ballot would be a damned sight easier than convincing them to vote for who you want to win. Arguably it can work the other way around, but in general individuals with moderate incomes and in work view Labour, in general, as a party of stability, while look to the Tory's for scary depression inducing periods followed by boom times for people who already have more than all of us put together. Even people who inherently aren't Labour supporters must see that Tory's aren't actually the slightest bit interested in you; they're just interested in your money and as indirectly as possible, because they like long, complicated paper trails. That's why I think you could convince Mr Average that putting Lord Snooty 'I Hate Chavs' Pervey-Cholmondley below the Monster Raving Loony Party will have all the girls at the office laughing at his sense of political humour, while leaving the Tory with no deposit - not that its going to be a drop in the ocean, but the humiliation should keep us all happy for a week or two.

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