Archive for March, 2008

PC is a computer

March 20th, 2008

I was browsing around the Interweb thingy as I tend to do while waking up in the morning.

One of my essential ports of call is Primal Sneeze.  I like his style.  I like his attitude.

Today he is on about Met Éireann [Irish Meteorological Service] and their use of the terms Holy Thursday, Good Friday and the like.

He says this is the Catholic Church being rammed down our throats.

“Good on ya!” I shout at Sneezy [as I affectionately call him], because I don’t like any religion being rammed down my throat.

But then I thought of the alternative.

This is perilously close to that ghastly world of the Politically Correct.

I hate that Politically Correct world.  It is bland and colourless.  You have to watch everything you say in case you might offend someone’s sensibilities.  Some poor sensitive little soul might be offended by the word Christmas; so we call it Winter Holiday.  Someone might have a nervous breakdown at the mention of St Patrick’s Day so we call it Green Day.

I feel sorry for these pathetic bastards who are so grossly offended by words [not you, Sneezy] that we have to tiptoe around in case they have a nervous breakdown. Call me a Mick, or a Paddy or a Red Neck Culchie.  Do I shrivel up and die?

Bring back golliwogs and the Lyon’s Tea Minstrels.  Let the building site be ruled by the foreman and not the foreperson.

If a woman chairs a meeting, does it remove her gender if we call her Chairman?

Bring back the Politically Incorrect.  Bring back the colour.  Let’s stop avoiding the cracks in the pavement.

Let’s have an International Politically Incorrect Day, and see what the Politically Correct try to call it.

And if you are offended by any of the above, then fuck off.

You snivelling little cry baby.

-oOo-

I have expanded on this post, as the Politically Correct have jumped on the bandwaggon and are accusing me of thing I never said.  Sad.

The times we live in

March 19th, 2008

I watched the news last night, which is a rarity.

One of the big stories of the day was the Heather Mills business.

Here we have a case where a woman is awarded £24.3m in a divorce settlement and is complaining.  She has been given more money than anyone else will see in their entire lifetime.  It’s not enough.  One of her complaints was that the child’s allowance would force the child to travel B class when flying.  The child is only four.

I don’t blame Ms Mills.  I feel sorry for her.  She is a child of our age, where consumerism and celebrity are more important than anything else.

Society now is radically different from the society of a few decades ago.  The ultimate aim now is money and instant gratification, no matter what the cost.  It has reached the stage where people actually feel it is their rite to have such things.

Young people today are running headlong on a path to self destruction.  They want happiness and they want it now.  They go out of a night, not to have a drink but to get smashed out of their skulls as quickly as possible.  In my day, we went out for a few pints, and got merry.  More often than not, we would overdo it slightly and end up a bit pissed.  But it would take an entire evening to reach that state.  Now the first thing they head for is the ‘shots’ and the shorts.  Get hammered NOW!  Another item on the news was about the alarming rate of increase in alcohol related problems amongst kids in their teens.  Kids are damaging their livers and kidneys before they have even started life.

The consumer society has also gone haywire.  Manufacturers would have us believe that if we don’t have the latest gizmo, gadget or whatever then we are missing out on a life changing experience.  We have to have the biggest, the best and the latest.  Why?  Why should we all drive SUVs?  Why should we all have phones with GPS, instant TV and gaming facilities?  Why should we all have bigger TVs than anyone else?  Because we are told we need them.

So we have a culture of complete discontent.  Those that don’t have it, want it, and those that have it, want more.  No one is ever happy with what they have.  We have bred a society of jealousy.  People are jealous of other peoples possessions or success.  They can’t handle that because it conflicts with their concept of instant gratification. 

So, do you want instant happiness?  Go out and drink yourself into a coma, or take drugs.

Don’t agree with someone?  Kill them.

Do you want a few bob in your pocket?  Go beat up an old age pensioner for their few quid.

Want a new phone?  Find a kid with a better one and steal it.  If you kill him in the process, then what the heck.

What the hell happened to decency and compassion?  What happened to honesty and morality?  What happened to tolerance and goodwill?

I won’t be watching the news tonight.

I’ll be dreaming about The Good Old Days.

Sunday dinner

March 19th, 2008

The groceries were delivered yesterday.

It was an extra large order because we are expecting the whole gang for the weekend.  It will be quite a houseful.

As usual, Herself timed it to perfection and walked in just as I was putting the last items away.

"Did the leg of lamb arrive?" she asked.

"It did," I said.  "I just put it in the freezer."

"Give us a look," says she. "I want to see if it’s enough for all of us."

I opened the freezer and took it out.

"Jayzus!" says she.  "Are we going to ate it or bring it for a walk?"

She might have had a point.

I swear just as I closed the freezer lid I heard a strange sound.

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Head Roaming

March 18th, 2008

I came across a lovely looking site this morning.  It’s not the design or the graphics, so much as the text.

headroaming

Apparently, the site is called Head Roaming.

It’s quite like my site, but I think the text looks much nicer.

headroaming1

It is in Chinese.  And it was written for a chap from China who wants to grow a bigger cock.

That’s fair enough.

They must be restocking after the Asian Bird Flu.

Be nice to Grandad

March 17th, 2008

I went down to the pub last night.

I met Spanner who is an old friend of mine.  He is the local mechanic, but can turn his hand to most things.

"Down for your Paddy’s Day drink?" he said.

"Nah! Just a pint.  I don’t hold with any of that Paddy’s Day bollox.  It’s just an excuse to get us all mad on drink, and for the politicians to fuck off abroad and spend our money having a fancy holiday for themselves."

"True enough.  We haven’t seen much of you in here lately?"

"Busy."

"Busy, my arse.  You just sit up in that cottage doing fuck all.  What have you been at?"

"Writing the book."

"I thought you had given up on that.  What’s it about anyway?"

"Nothing much.  Just life in the village."

"Jayzus! Am I in it?"

"Of course you’re in it.  Everyone is in it.  All my friends, neighbours, enemies and relations."

"For fuck’s sake, you’ll be sued down to hell and back."

"Nah.  I’ve changed the names slightly.  Anyway, you can’t be sued for telling the truth."

The colour of Spanners face nicely matched the colour of the head of his pint.  "But you can’t write about…  You can’t mention… Fuck!  You have.  Haven’t you?"

"Yup.  Everything."

"Shit! We’re finished."

"Don’t worry about it," I said.  "It’s being sold as a work of fiction."

He thought about that for a moment.

"I suppose I’d better be nice to you so?"

"It would help," I said, draining my pint.

"You’ll have another pint?" said Spanner.

"I will," I said.  "Make it a large one."

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