Clock Cock Up

29 August 2005
I have a clock, made in China, given to me by a Pharmaceutical Company. This clock uses a radio signal to 'correct' the time. I'm not sure what the source of this radio signal is, but I suspect it's satelite. The trouble is, this radio 'correction' always puts my clock an hour ahead of the correct time. You can fix the time manually but it inevitably re-'corrects' the time as soon as your back is turned. In addition, the makers of this clock are so sure that you would never have to fix it manually that adjusting the time is not simple. What is wrong with this clock? The only explanation I can think of is that the headquarters of this particular Pharmaceutical Company are in another country that just happens to be an hour ahead of my country and they overlooked this little point when they started distributing it outside their homeland. I fix the time regularly, then, again strangely, the clock will sometimes accept that I am right and switch off its auto-update for a month or so, but just when I think I can rely on it, it starts auto-correcting again. There is no obvious manual de-activation of the auto-update, I have to rely on the clock's 'wisdom' or lack of it. This clock has to be some kind of metaphor for life, and, of course, I wouldn't be parted from such a wonderfully flawed piece of technology. Incidently, the damned thing is again an hour ahead as I type this.
The only other issue for this blog is today's title. Try saying it again and again, as fast as you can, for the next three hours. You'll find it very difficult and may get arrested if you're in a public place. The point is not that it's a tongue-twister, but that it sounds like a clock. Yes, it does. Don't argue.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Computer, I salute you

25 August 2005
Did you know that your Windows Registry needs to be optimized regularly to prevent your computer slowing or crashing? When I first did a free scan with RegistryFix, I found over 800 Registry problems. I now sweep regularly and have a nice clean computer. The problem is that when you remove/update programs (including removing adware) bits of old programs remain in the Registry and make your computer run inefficiently. Why do I tell you this? Because I use RegistryFix myself and recommend it to you (true). Because if you click on the link to RegistryFix then buy their product, they pay me a 'finders fee' (also true). Of course, it's an outrage that I should try to extort money in this way and I therefore retract this entire paragraph unreservedly and insist that you do not click on this link: RegistryFix.
So why do I salute my computer? Because I am always amazed at what can be done on my humble little computer that not long ago would have had to be done by someone else at great cost - like photocopying or producing a professional quality brochure.
I do not salute the makers of a little shareware package I downloaded about six weeks ago that permanently wrote off my operating system, taking a lot of software with it. The shareware wasn't even something I particularly needed. Beware of all shareware as a viral sweep will not pick up glitches like the one that sunk my operating system without trace. Which, almost, gets me onto computer viruses.
Don't you think that Virus writers should be turned into animal feed? Perhaps not, as their sickness could be passed into the cow's milk to a new generation of virus writers. I once met a guy who boasted with a grin on his face that it would be very easy for him to create a virus if he wanted to. My dog was very grateful for what he thought was his usual tinned dog food for quite while after that.
If you believe the last sentence, and are so inclined, you will be in love with me by now. By which I refer to the curious phenomenon of death row inmates having distant lovers, attracted by the power and glamour of a dangerous and murderous convict. Such people are sad, dysfunctional people, or maybe they're just normal given that we as a society like to glamorise crime. Naturally, as I've opened a big topic here, this is an appropriate place to stop.
If today's title seems vaguely familiar, you may recall the outspoken MP George Galloway's televised public praise for Sadam Hussein when he visited and embraced the dictator: 'Sir, I salute you'.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Russian Gas and Secret Tradesmen

Last week's blogs were a little unsettling, if you believed them. Like everything, there was some truth in there somewhere.
But Peak Oil is probably further away than some would have us believe.
As Saudi's oil company is half owned by USA and entirely run by USA expertise, a business model likely to be repated in Iraq, Americans have little to fear for a while in terms of energy supply. In addition, Iran has huge oil reserves that when properly managed, will also mitigate against an early peak oil, not to mention West African oil, Russia's immense Gas reserves, other fossil fuels etc.
So relax, there's nothing imminent. Of course, I could be wrong and just in case I am, my next car will be electric. If I can master the remote control for it, I should be fine.
Speaking of cars, don't mechanics drive you mad? The worst are the quick service centres for a new tyre or exhaust. It doesn't matter what you go in with, they concoct a story to demonstrate that you are actually lucky to be alive given the dangerous state of all your tyres. Unless you replace all your tyres urgently you are unlikely to make it to the end of the street. As this sort of practice is widespread, you do wonder why trading standards people don't employ folks to go around such places and fine them for fraudulent attempts to sell unnecessary products, better still publically flog them.
I have never quite understood why everyone else nowadays has to adopt high professional standards of service to remain in business and prevent you going to the competition but there are some jobs exempted form this market force - notably tradesmen.
Tradesmen are allowed to let you down again and again, charge for longer hours than they were present, do an awful job, be extremely rude or threatening and all you can do is grovel at their feet expressing extreme gratitude at their wisdom when they state the staringly obvious as if it is a new insight only someone with their intellect and experience could possibly have got his head around. One can only assume that tradesmen have a secret society (a bit like the Masons only infinitely more powerful) where they meet and determine the 'standards' to which they all must adhere. Anyone caught providing a good service (e.g. turning up at the right time, doing the job in the actual length they said in the estimate rather than much quicker as they knew all along, being polite etc) will be executed. I'm sure all their rules of poor conduct are written down as they all adhere to them religiously. Obviously these rules are top secret and not available to the paying enemy such as me, but I am willing to have a go:
Charter of Best Poor Practice for Tradesmen:
1 The client is the enemy and any pleasantness from the client is better understood as malicious trickery and should be responded to accordingly. You must never ever consider your client to be a decent person and must therefore always treat them as if they are shit stuck to your shoe, because actually they are much worse, but you have to show some decency.
2 When purchasing boots to wear when you work, check the treads very carefully. The boot must be able to pick up as much mud and dirt outside as possible then deposit it bit by bit on the client's brand new carpet. The boot must be designed to deposit the mud gradually, one large deposit does not meet poor practice standards.
3 When your client makes any sensible suggestions, you must behave as if you can't understand the language. Alternatively, you can make up anything you like and baffle them with words you've just invented. 'Ah, but if you do that, the phlange will start bubbling in the quassack. In time that will erode the stabilisers and you'll only be able to fart quizzically on Wednesdays' - or some such.
You get idea. There's another seven hundred rules, but I'll skip to the last one:
700 Under some circumstances, it may be necessary to assault your client. For example, if he extends his hand to shake hands with you, this is a threatening gesture and should be met with a right hook (best practice is to the nose). If he tries to shake hands again, kill him. For our list of (seemingly) tragic accidents, see appendix 2.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

The Important Question

18 August 2005
In the light of the Peak Oil crisis which is soon to descend, it is time to consider what you want to do with your life, while you still can. I, for example, would like to visit some countries including Africa and Australia and if I leave it too long, I will need to go via a wind-powered gallion.
Alternatively, I'll be catapulted by a giant catapult as the only remaining alternative to current forms of powered flight. I also need to start thinking about what animals and vegetables I will farm for survival in the future and acquire the appropriate skills. No point in waiting five years then having to learn it all overnight. Anyway, I'll be digging a moat then to keep the other people away from my crops and animals while learning unarmed combat to defend myself, as fire arms and blades can no longer be manufactured or transported.
I'll probably use my chickens as currency, because national currencies will be worthless, to buy little treats like safe water.
In the meantime, I plan to lobby politicians to insist that all beauty spots are turned into windfarms and that all humans be culled at thirty-six as this represents optimal energy efficiency. Okay, I've written myself off in the process, but you have to responsible about the future.
If this blog is scaring you, don't be silly, it's just a bit of fun.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Vive et Rire

17 August 2005
Naturellement, j'adore les Francais. Les Francais adore M Blair a cause de son decision de financer l'economie future de France sans expense pour la France.
...to continue the theme from the last blog. I mean, you have to admire the French. Blair (privately) tells Chirac that invading Iraq will secure the medium term economic future of Europe (for the reasons discussed in the last blog, he would have done, not that it would be news to Chirac) and Chirac spots an opportunity to get it for free. You have to admire the man's style. It certainly explains why Blair is so furious with Chirac. He knows what Chirac achieved for his country and worse, Blair can't go public to expose Chirac, because the whole agenda is secret.
If you think I'm wrong, just consider the logic in terms of the economic imperatives that face world leaders. Besides, evidence that Bush and Blair decided to go to war with Iraq years earlier is now in the public domain. Chirac must have been in tears of laughter so many times over this.
You may think that the arguments in this and previous blogs are unfounded. But Sherlock Holmes enthusiasts in particular will accept that simple deduction leads to no other reasonable conclusions.
Speaking of Sherlock Holmes (How's that for a link?), did you know that we have reached the end of today's blog? Look at the next paragraph. It's my 'sign off' paragraph. Simple deduction.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Oil be damned

15 August 2005
If you have not yet become aware of the reality that the world will change beyond recognition very soon due to a phenomenon known as peak oil, let me enlighten you.
In summary, oil is required for everything and supports Western Economies and their Security. Within the next year or so, demand will outstrip supply by enough to lead to economic meltdown of all Western Economies. Future wars will relate to energy control and distribution (okay, current wars too). Things like air travel, if still available, will become astronomically expensive. No current technologies can provide sufficient alternative energy sources. Self-sufficiency will become key to survival. Probably, horses and carts will re-appear on our roads.
Sounds awful, doesn't it? How bad it will be is a matter of conjecture, but it will lead to a radically different world. There's no dispute about that and it will happen within the next few years, guaranteed.
Why not put 'peak oil' into a search engine and see for yourself.
Why don't we know more about this? Well, it's not the kind of thing world leaders discuss in public. But I'm sure it has been the main (secret) agenda item of G8 meetings for some time. It's the most important reason for them to meet, after all. Oil is the bottom line.
Incidently, control of Iraqi oil is the only way to break the Opec stranglehold on oil control. It's far far far more important to America than overthrowing a dictator. So they were very lucky that overthrowing a dictator had this handy side effect. America's economic survival (in the medium term) depends on it. Nothing can save the American economy in the longer term (sorry).
But I'll stop there, as I don't discuss politics in this blog.
I just thought I'd share that for a laugh.
Have a nice day.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Hay, not funny!

10 August 2005
Now I happen to suffer from hay fever. My allergy score for Orchard grass is 5. If you know anything about such things, you'll feel very sorry for me, because that magic number basically means that I am severely allergic to grass pollen and will sneeze incessantly, rub my itchy eyes incessantly and struggle to sleep because of discomfort right through the summer, even with maximal application of topical and systemic treatments. (No, not there. Orally. Only the French take everything that way - I jest not.)
The reason I had to suffer? I live in the UK where allergy treatment is hopeless. Now you smart readers will note that I said the reason I had to suffer. Past tense. Why?
Well, I lived in Bermuda for five years and got proper treatment there, in the shape of immunotherapy, whereby the system is gradually desensitised to the allergy causers through a series of injections of increasing strength. The trouble is, the effect gradually wears off over five years or so. Having been back in Scotland for two summers, I have already experienced worse symptoms this year than last.
Ironically, it was a Scottish doctor working in Bermuda who gave me the treatment. He now runs a vineyard in Canada. There's probably some connection which you can supply yourself.
Why am I telling you this? Because I need you to lobby your MP or the British Consel (if you're outside the UK) to secure better allergy treatments in the UK for squirrels. Perhaps we should be less worried about Iraq and more worried about our own squirrels. What do you think? (In case you don't know, in the UK, health budgets, like armed forces budgets, are publically funded).
Thank you. Achoo.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Don't Stop the Carnivore

8 August 2005
In the Scottish hills, wherein I reside, lerks a little mosquito-like creature known as the midge. Bob Geldof is well acquainted with the Scottish Midge, having met him first in Vienna. It means nothing to him to step on this little Midge and steal the limelight but the Midge, Ure well aware, will bite back. Mind you, no Midge would risk biting Bob Geldof, through fear of Ultrapox.
Yes, the midge is a biting insect. The bite is nothing like as itchy as the mosquito bite. Nor does the midge carry any dangerous diseases. Yes, I'm proud to say I've been bitten by both.
Indeed in Scotland, given that these little creatures suck blood, the midge is more at risk from the human than vice-versa. There must be several midges flying well over the legal limit on a Saturday night. Having watched them fly in random circles when sober, I hate to think what happens after a big sook from a boozer. Perhaps that explains how so many of them fly into the windscreen.
I'm not an expert on these creatures, but I have noticed that they only bite at certain points during their life cycle. A bit like women then, this periodic midge sooking (PMS).
The hugely popular TV Series, Monarch of the Glen, was filmed in and around where I live. Golly, I hear you say, as you name the fun-loving, wise-cracking, joker in the series. (The miserable persona was just his brilliant comic acting).
Talk to any of the film crew and they'll tell you their number one problem was... yep, that pesky little midge. Trying to keep these little creatures away from actors and crew and out of shots was nigh on impossible. They probably doubled the cost of the shoots. (They're so small, you keep missing when you point a gun at them).
Under the right conditions, they can multiply like crazy. (9x3, 6X4, 7X6 etc.) These multiplication conditions relate to the right mix of dry, wet and warmth. Having, presumably had such optimal conditions prior to my visit, I was once prevented from climbing a hill next to Loch Lomond (Ben Lomond) as the midges were so dense that you needed to breathe through a mask. I was wearing a black fleece and looking down, it had become grey, covered with thousands of the little fellows. Thankfully, they were not at the biting stage of their life cycle, but I had to abandon the climb as the density failed to reduce as we climbed.
Just in case you're wondering, I do work for the Scottish Tourist Board.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Submarines and Vegetarians

4 August 2005
I like to complain about things that are not right. So do you. I just don't get as annoyed as you do. Yes you do. I've seen you brushing your teeth. You wouldn't brush your teeth so aggressively if you weren't seething with rage at how unfair everything is. Take this blog, for example, you couldn't possibly be as brilliant as me and that is so unfair.
My first grievance to air is the poor weather in my country (Scotland). Even in the summer, it can be blisteringly cold, especially where I live, which is almost 1000 feet above sea level. Doesn't sound like much, but it snows here when it rains in most other places in the UK. If, like me, you believe in global warming, then you will understand this complaint: Some countries, having taken a dislike to my blog (Grandiose? Moi?) have determined to try to reduce greenhouse gasses so that I will freeze to death one particularly cold winter. Why can't they take pity on me and all agree to emit as much greenhouse gasses per head as the USA? I'd have them all over to my hot tub (currently a freezing garden pond) to celebrate. Obviously, being 1000 feet above sea level, a little rise in the ocean to submerge London would be no concern of mine. I'd just go into the submarine business. Although I'd have to learn how to see with my periscope.
From periscopes to horoscopes. Someone once said to me: "I don't believe in horoscopes or star signs. I'm a Libra, we tend to be like that."
Last week, I was having a pseudo-intellectual chat around the dinner table and someone said: "The thing is... Not all Jews are Christians". True enough, just as: not all vegetarians eat meat. They should of course. I mean, human beings are omnivores, not vegetarians. It's a bit like being born a bird then deciding to stop flying. And if you object to modern animal farming/slaughtering/ effects on the rain forest etc, then just raise your own chickens and look after them, spoil them, make them comfortable and very very happy. Then club them to death when you want to eat them.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Blair Press Office Release

3 August 2005
Another exclusive, as this was only released to the Squirrel.
Dear Mr Squirrel
Y'know, I'm not at all impressed with these alleged press conferences that you keep reporting. The ones between me and Mr Boss, ah, Bush.
I mean, it's all very well to pour scorn on us, but do I hear you coming up with any answers? Just because you have a fluffy tail does not excuse the fact that you and your people kill hundreds of trees every day, while showing off to your mates. And don't make some cheap remark about political parallels. As far as I'm concerned, you're just a rat that happens to have a cute tail that gets you off the hook but shouldn't.
And I hate the way you keep implying that I am Mr Boss's poodle. He doesn't influence me at all, period. And don't take the fifth amendment on me, I want to hear a sensible response.
You have to stop talking about my business interests too. Cherie's filing for chapter 11.
Oops. My Press secretary just told me that you haven't discussed my business interests. I therefore demand that you tell me why not.
Incidently, I hope it wasn't you who threw a brick through my wind shield and dented my gasoline tank. I've a good mind to kick you on the fanny, you old fag.
Anyway, I promised to rub cream onto Gordon's feet. He's been kicking his neighbour's fanny again and his toes are all red.
Must dash. Toodle pip.
Yours, Tones xx
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!

Bush and Blair Press Exclusive 2

2 August 2005
Another exclusive.
Bush: Okay. Who said terrorism?
Blair: I did.
Bush: No. We're not using that term anymore.
Blair: Why not?
Bush: I'm not sure what it means.
Blair: So the whole world has to stop using the term because you don't know what it means?
Bush: Yep. Seems fair to me.
Blair: What's the new term?
Bush: Extremist fighting or something like that.
Blair: Which?
Bush: Frankly, I'd prefer something else. Something we can all understand. Like Injans. Everyone knows you're in trouble when the Injans surround your wagons.
Blair: Why do I always get the feeling that you've been listening to 'Eye of The Tiger' too loud? Maybe if I take LSD, I'll be able to tune into your wavelength.
Bush: You'll need to ask my predeceaser about that. He's the expert on not exhaling.
Blair: Your predeceaser? The guy who died before you?
Bush: Oh, we all use dye. Keeps us young-looking. Just imagine how awful Donald Trump would look without it.
Blair: But your hair is gray.
Bush: Yeah. It's difficult to find the right color. I've got a team of sixty highly trained men working on it right now. We're expecting an interim report by the end of the year. Could be a highlight.
Blair: Look. Can we address the issues?
Bush: Sure, where are we sending them?... Didn't you ask me that already? And why are you being so rude?
Blair: Rude? Moi? To quote exactly what I said to Mr Chirac.
Bush: I have to say, I love watching your body langauge with Mr Chirac. You two obviously hate each other.
Blair: Au Contraire.
Bush: Eau Contraire? I don't like mineral water. Too fizzy.
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!
Any security people who checked this out, I hope you enjoyed it. I do love these two, really. I'm just not so sure about Mr Chirac. By which I mean that his foreign policy is good but I can't forgive him for being French. Oh, all right, he's forgiven. There. Now go and spy on some other website that needs to be spyed on. And I want an interim report by Christmas. One last thing. In the UK, we call 'French fries' chips, so we remain comfortable when eating our staple diet.
Did you know that what we call French Windows, the French call English Windows? On the Channel Islands, they refer to them as English French Windows to avoid causing offence. Well they should.

Bush and Blair Press Exclusive

1 August 2005
I have decided to dedicate this entire blog to a previously unreported press conference.
Bush: Any questions? Easy ones please.
Blair: I have one. A big one.
Bush: Oh, I'm sure mine is bigger than yours.
Blair: Why aren't you doing something about greenhouse gasses?
Bush: Simple. I don't need to. I don't have a greenhouse.
Blair: The thing is, I didn't, y'know, mean literally.
Bush: I get it. British humour. We don't understand that over here.
Blair: We're in London.
Bush: Yeah, I know. But I decided a while ago that you were part of my jurisdiction... You grow tomatoes in your greenhouses here, don't you? I love tomatoes. Yum.
Blair: But, y'see it's not a simple as that. it's not just tomatoes.
Bush: Don't interrupt me. I hadn't finished. Yum, yum. I had two more yums to say. Next question.
Blair: So what do we, y'know, have in common?
Bush: Our names both start with 'B'. We're both standing here. We're both relying on you to say something sensible.
Blair: I wouldn't be so hard on yourself. You just haven't been the same since you fell off that bike at Gleneagles.
Bush: Somebody tamponed with the brakes.
Blair: Mr Brown, my Chancellor. I didn't see it, but I'm sure it was him. I promise to have him neutered.
Bush: Next question please.
Blair: Why are you inviting questions? This is my press conference. And can we address the issues?
Bush: Sure, where are we sending them?
There endeth this blog. Stay tuned!