Archive for January, 2011

Now it is personal

January 31st, 2011

My pension cheque arrived today.

It has a hole in it.

When I say a hole, I mean a fucking huge hole.

I have been extremely tolerant of our Gubmint up to now, but now it’s personal.  Those wankers passed a law during the week protecting their own pensions but they have no conscience about ripping off my pension.

If that hole were going towards paying for special needs assistants or teachers, I wouldn’t mind too much.  The fact that it is going to a shower of fucking gamblers in Germany and elsewhere raises my blood pressure way beyond danger levels.

I am praying that some canvassers call to my door over the next few weeks.  I am praying that they will be from Fianna Fail or the Greens.

I am ready for them.

Baseball bat?  Check.

Slash-hook?  Check.

Rabid dog?  Check.

And if all else fails, my ultimate weapon – Herself?  Check.

Bring ‘em on.

Holiday jigsaws

January 30th, 2011

Some time ago I mused as to where we would go for our holidays this year.

It was a tossup between Cork or France.

We decided on France.

I We chose France for a couple of reasons.  One of course is the warmth.  I’m sick of shivering in this miserable country.  The other was to avoid that fucking obnoxious word – a ‘staycation’.  Where the fuck these ghastly words come from, I don’t know, but anyone who uses them in my presence gets a very swift smack of the boot in the gonads.

Another reason we had to arrange things this early is that we decided to bring Sandy with us from now on, and it takes a minimum of six months to get her passport.  So I duly brought her to the vet and she has now been inoculated with rabies.  Even if we change our minds and don’t go to France, it is always handy to have a rabid dog on hand when the election candidates call.

Planning a French holiday is very like doing a jigsaw.  The final picture of course is a decent holiday, but there are loads of bits and pieces that have to slot into the overall picture.

The main piece of the puzzle is the destination.  That’s done.  We chose the place because it not only said that pets were welcome, but it is not a ‘fuck off smokers’ place.  In fact it not only didn’t have a ‘no smoking’ clause but actually stated the smokers are welcome.  That’s my kind of holiday.

Another piece of the jigsaw is of course Sandy’s passport.  That is now in hand and should be sorted long before we go.

That leaves two pieces.  The main remaining piece is how to get there and back.  We always travel by Irish Ferries, because I like to drive my own car, and it means we can bring a respectable lump of luggage.  However, Irish Ferries are a very inconsiderate shower and sail their ships on really fucking inconvenient days.  Going over is fine.  They have a sailing on Friday that gets to France on Saturday morning, which means we arrive at our destination on Saturday evening when the holiday officially commences.  However, for the return trip, I have a choice between a Friday sailing from Roscoff or a Sunday sailing from Cherbourg.  Our holiday ends on a Saturday, so we have a problem.

When I go as far as France, I like to spin it out as long as possible so leaving a day early ain’t on the cards.  However, finishing our holiday on a Saturday when the ferry sails on Sunday leaves a wee hole in the jigsaw.  We have to stay somewhere on Saturday night.  Normally that wouldn’t be a problem as normally we wouldn’t have a rabid dog with us, but this time we do.  So now I have to work out what to do for Sunday night.  That is the final piece of the jigsaw.

I know there is a piece somewhere that will finish the jigsaw, and it’s just a matter of finding it.

It’s probably down the back of the couch.

That where most jigsaw pieces seem to end up.

A musing

January 28th, 2011

Headline on the RTE site:

Dáil set to be dissolved on Tuesday – Cowen

In prussic acid, I hope..

Life on Planet Bertie

January 28th, 2011

I watched Sharon the News last night.

They had a clip where that Ahern fuck was being interviewed.

I think I can honestly say I was speechless.

This little shit is probably the most responsible person for the collapse of the Irish economy, yet he says his biggest regret is not building a fucking sports stadium.

Also, during the interview a protester interrupts and harangues him.  All he does is laugh and say a sarcastic ‘thank you’.  When asked about the protesters, he dismisses them as a bunch of people who want to be on the telly.  This just goes to show how he hasn’t a fucking clue about how the people are suffering from his reckless actions.  The little fuck is swanning around in his chauffer driven car and necking back an obscene pension so why the fuck should he worry about the rest of us?

I have called Cowen a cunt in the past, but Ahern is beyond cuntisness.  There really isn’t a word to describe him.  I am baffled as to how anyone could vote for him.  The little pox-bottle is a nasty stain on the Irish political scene.

Come the revolution I would hate to see him shot.  Too quick.  Too painless.

What he deserves is a life sentence sharing the cell with a couple of randy dockers.

That would wipe the smug smirk off his face.

Weekly elections

January 27th, 2011

Today has been one of those days.

Not only have I not had time to write something, but I haven’t even had the time to think about what to write.

As I am still up to my eyes in various things, I shall pass you over to a guest post.

I give you…..  John Mallon!  Ta Daaaa!

-oOo-

We are finally going to get an election, but there is a sneaking feeling, even a creeping feeling, that one lot of politicians is the same as the next and no matter who takes power, not much will change. They will say publicly for our benefit, “The people have spoken”, while quietly thinking to themselves, “And we don’t want to hear from them again for at least four more years”.

It is supposed to be a democracy where the will of the people rules. So the question is, how can the people have a direct input into the everyday decisions that directly affect their lives. The answer is stunningly simple, but I suspect it would prove highly unpopular with politicians of every hue. It is technology, or more correctly, the kind of technology that powers the Lotto.

Two to three times a week, a couple million of us get our sets of Lotto numbers keyed into the machine in our local supermarket or wherever, and a unique identity is created for that single transaction and is stored in a central database. Within a couple of hours of the draw being made, The database can tell us there has been a winner and can even tell us where the ticket was bought, when and at what time. It can track multiple games running concurrently in multiple locations. Magic, you might think, but it is simple for a computer to search millions of number sequences and match them against a single sequence, and it can do this in seconds. It was what they were originally designed to do before graphics arrived.

Imagine then, these machines just where they are. They would have a small keyboard where you type in your PPS number to authenticate who you are. The database in Dublin (or wherever), checks the number is valid, gives the OK to the machine you are standing in front of, and it flashes up the current question on screen. All this might take two seconds. The question could be anything, like “Should political expenses be vouched”, or “Do you want us to stay in the Euro”, or “Will we shut down Anglo Irish Bank” etc. The machine will have two large on-screen buttons, one for yes and one for no. Just push one to cast your vote.

The questions can be posed daily, twice a week or even weekly. They (the questions), would have a ‘go live’ time, and would become inactive after a certain set time. The PPS authentication process would ensure that the same number could not be used to vote twice on any one question.

From the citizen/voter perspective, the system is inclusive. You get to give your opinion in vote form, several times a week if you want to. You don’t have to vote on anything if you don’t want to, but you can’t say you were not asked. Multiple questions could appear on a scrollable list and as you go to each one,  would press yes or no. The software will grey out any question that your PPS number has already answered.

And the answers (results of the poll), can be determined in seconds when the question time is up. The computer would offer the Dail the total number of voters and the percentages for yes and no. For example, the speaker of the house can inform the members present that, “The people were asked if they wanted Queen Elizabeth invited on a state visit next year. 1,203,431 voted in total, with 54% in favour of the visit and 46% against”. The House, on all sides would know immediately what their voters wanted. A low poll might signal a low interest, but either way, that is valuable information for our legislators also.

But, how hard would this be to do and how much would it cost. About the same or less than it cost the Lotto to set up, and at a fraction of what the useless voting machines cost. Indeed Lotto profits could be used to fund it. I would suggest an independent group of the wiser ex-members of the Seanad would formulate the questions based on the important issues of the day. A single operator could post them on the machines, and a panel could verify the results percentages before forwarded these to the Dail. Hell, Joe Duffy was able to take a phone poll and counted 10,000 answers given in five minutes of voting.

We would then have the incredible situation where the people would be telling the Politicians what to do, on a daily basis if necessary. They would know what we think and want on the spot, while the issues are still relevant. For the first time ever, a Western Democracy would become truly inclusive.

Why not ???

John Mallon

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