The Followship of the Twitter

May 6th, 2012

I accidentally clicked on a link this morning and it brought me into my Twitter thing.

Most of you will know by now that I find Twitter to be utterly confusing and as frustrating as to trying to write a novel on one of those little yellow sticky notelet things.

People say that part of the fun is trying to fit your message into 140 characters, but that’s like having a drinking contest where you are only allowed a thimbleful of whiskey.

Another problem I have with Twitter is that the only yoke I can use to Tweet on is a thing called Tweetdeck.  Now I use Linux, and Linux comes with a whole lot of different desktops, unlike Windows which only comes with one.  And for some reason I haven’t bothered fathoming, Tweetdeck only works on one of those desktops, and it ain’t the desktop I normally use.  So I don’t bother.

All that to one side though, as I discovered to my surprise that I have 520 people following me.  Over half a thousand people have decided to follow every little tweet, cheep and chirp that I utter.  Very fucking strange?  Especially when you consider that I only really use Twitter to announce when I have posted a new pearl of wisdom on this site?

Am I the Pied Piper of Tweetland?  I’ll leave you to ponder whether I am alluding to the rats or the children there.  Heh!

There are some little surprises in the list too.  I see Barack O’Bama hangs on my every word [even though he says he doesn’t], as does Brian Cowen, but I have my suspicions about that one.  Another very strange face in there is RTE Radio 1.  Am I the source of their news?  Or are they hoping to trap me in a libel case so they can recover some of the €200,000 they recently lost?  Strange.

The problem now is what I am supposed to do with all my disciples.  Am I meant to feed them?  Does anyone have a loan of a few of loaves and a couple of haddock?

Maybe I could start a new religion?

Or a new political party?

Leastwise, if you are one of my multitude, I proffer my cordial greetings.

If you’re not, then you don’t know what you’re missing!

Heaven

May 5th, 2012

The sun is beaming down.

There is a smell of woodsmoke in the air.

The birds are going ballistic – blackbirds, several varieties of  finches, sparrows, tits of every shape and colour, wrens, pigeons, doves and loads more besides.  They are performing aerial ballet over The Manor and singing their little hearts out.

If  the rest of the world would only fuck off and leave me alone….

I’d be in heaven.

Simplifying obfuscation

May 4th, 2012

I have been giving this Fiscal Treaty thing some thought during the week.

Of course you all assume I will just vote No because of my anti EU/Euro stance in the past, but that isn’t necessarily so.  I generally vote on merit and try to give each side a chance.

I received the booklet the other day.  I found it sitting in a puddle on the porch floor [remind me to fix the porch roof sometime….] and did my best to read it.

It was not easy.  First of all there are five pages of a preamble [which frankly was more of a ramble] where every paragraph started with a “Noting” [9 of them] or a “Recalling” [6 of them] with a few “Stressing” thrown in for good measure.  Then we have nine pages of “Articles” which seems to be the meat on the bone.

The document is the dictionary definition of obfuscation.

Now from what I can gather, this treaty is about financial housekeeping.  I like to reduce problems to a simplified level that is easier to understand, so I will reintroduce my bank manager here.

My bank manager has the power to suggest to me certain limits on my borrowing and spending based on my earning capacity.  That’s fair enough.  I can chose to ignore his advice, but he then has the power to adjust my overdraft limit or to change my credit rating within the bank.  That is all perfectly normal stuff.

What the treaty proposes is that my bank manager will have an actual law built into my house deeds that I have to stick to whatever borrowing and spending limits he decides, and that if I stray outside those limits I will be liable for stiff punishment in the form of fines.  Furthermore, he [and only he] will have the power to change those limits any time he sees fit, and there is nothing I can do about it.

This is pretty worrying stuff, as there is an added complication.  You see, my bank also holds accounts for a few big companies and a couple of millionaires, and by the nature of the bank, the borrowing and spending limits that I have to adhere to will be the same limits as applied to the companies and the rich lot.  If he reckons the millionaires are spending too much he can change the limits even though they will crucify me.

One thing I have to remember is that the banks limits are roughly the same limits that I had to follow in order to open an account in the first place.  The rules worked well enough then, but unfortunately they were arranged to suit the companies and the millionaires and as a result I ended up with pots of money which naturally enough Herself spent.  This ended in tears of course and now the bank is demanding that I pay back all that cash even though it only leaves me with a couple of quid a month to feed the family and pay the bills. and ignoring the fact that Herself ran up the debt and not me.  I have had to take virtually all my savings just to bail her out of her mess.  Financially, I am crippled.

So, my problem is this.

Do I allow the bank put that law into the deeds of my house, in which case the bank will continue to lend me money, or do I tell them to fuck themselves and tell them I will go it alone and that I can always borrow off someone else?  In fact, rich Uncle Imf has already stated that I can tap him for a few quid if necessary.

The way I look at it is that I spent many many years struggling hard to claim the deeds of my property.  Do I want to effectively hand them over to my bank?  No.  I don’t.  Apart from anything else, my bank is on pretty shaky foundations at the moment and could collapse at any time.

You could suggest that I change banks, but the Bank of Euro is the only one around at the moment.  I could try to re-join my old bank – the Bank of Punt, but they were disbanded many years ago.

So would these new banking rules suit me?

For a start they will still be modified to suit the millionaires and the big companies so I would like a bit of flexibility there.  They won’t allow that though – they make the rules and I have to abide by them.  And it is one rule for all.  That is worrying.

Also they are the same rules which effectively got me into the mess I’m in now, so they aren’t exactly in my interest, are they?

And if I refuse to accept their new rules, the bank says that I will get no more cash.  But is that likely to happen?  The chances are that I will have to borrow again seeing as I have been forced to pay all my income to the companies and millionaires, so what will happen then?  Frankly I don’t believe the bank.  If I am forced into the gutter, the bank will get a pretty poor reputation and they don’t want that, so they will have to lend me the cash just to save themselves.  They know as well as I know, that if I go, they go too.

Does this new system suit me or the bank?  That one is easy – it suits the bank and I would just have to obey orders even if the bank changes their rules again.

So what it all boils down to is this -

Do I hand my deeds to the bank and hope they know what they are doing?  At least I could relax knowing that they might [and I stress might] lend me in the future?

Or to I retain what shreds of dignity I have left and go my own way – still keeping as close to the banks rules as possible but allowing myself that extra flexibility that the small account of a pensioner needs?  They say that borrowing in the future could be a problem but frankly I am sure they are wrong.  I never had a solidly guaranteed source of loans in the past, and I have borrowed enough in my time, so why should I need a cast iron guaranteed vaguely promised loan now?

I think on balance I will retain my dignity.  My bank manager has been a right cunt over the last few years; lending me money but bitching every step of the way and not allowing me to write a cheque until they have cleared it first.  Do I want a lifetime of that?

No.

And that’s the way I will vote.

Keyboard dyslexia

May 3rd, 2012

I received a fairly good education.

One thing I always had a fair grasp on was English, and the finer niceties of spelling and grammar. I am no potential Pulitzer or Nobel winner, but I know the difference between it’s and its.  I know when to use there, their or they’re. 

I won’t say I pride myself on my grammar and spelling but I like to think that my scribbles conform roughly with the accepted spellings and the general rules of syntax.

Lately I have been having a lot of trouble.

Herself occasionally reads this, and she has a habit of finding words that I have misspelled.  Now I do have a spell checker but the little fecker isn’t very smart and will pass a “bit” with no comment when it really should have been “but”, so if I use “to” where I should have used “too” [or even “two”?] it won’t say a word.  It will just leave me to face embarrassment later in the week.

The problem is that I know how to spell.  I know the basic elements of grammar.  But somehow the signal gets confused between the brain and the keyboard.  My fingers refuse to obey commands and go off at a tangent and type something completely different.  Sometimes they omit words entirely but the strangest phenomenon [and I actually didn’t have to check the spelling of that] is where the fingers substitute words.  There have been occasions where I meant to type “there” and have typed “what” instead.  I don’t know where those words come from.

It has reached the stage where I have to weed every sentence that I have typed.  Invariably the sentence will be full of little red squiggles highlighting my efforts, and I have to go back and remove all the extra letters that have mysteriously  appeared from nowhere.  For some reason the fingers have developed a habit of inserting extra “t”s, “n”s and “p”s, at random in places where they do not belong.

I have also noticed that my eyes are in cahoots with my fingers, in that the fingers will type something strange, and the eyes will no spot it.  I can read the strange bit several times over and not notice it.  Herself does though, which is a bugger.

I don’t know if it’s the onset of senility that’s causing all this bother [and where did the extra “e” come from when I just typed causeing?].

Or maybe it’s because I am typing a hell of a lot faster these days and I’m tripping over my grammatical shoe laces?

Or there again, it could be that most of the letters on my keyboard have rubbed off with overuse.

Yes.  That’s it.

It’s my keyboard that’s dyslexic.

An Open Letter

May 2nd, 2012

An open letter to the Minister for Health.

 

Dear Minister for Health,

Before I start, I would like to apologise for the somewhat misleading title I have accorded you, but that apparently is how you are addressed.

I watched with interest your appearance on RTE’s Prime Time last night where you enlightened us with your vision of a smoke free Ireland.

There were a few points that left me a little confused however and maybe you would like to take this opportunity to clarify a few of them?

The purpose of the programme was to discuss the banning of smoking in all public parks, beaches and sports events.  I would have thought that such a drastic piece of legislation would have to have fairly sound reasoning behind it and here lies my first question.

Why?

You see, you mentioned several reasons.  The first was your personal distaste of the Evil Tobacco Companies.   But then one of your cohorts started on about health and how there is no safe level of secondary smoke, even presumably if you are standing alone in the middle of The Fifteen Acres up in the Phoenix Park?  And then we switched track again, and it became a law to denormalise smokers.  Just when I was getting used to that idea, I suddenly realise that the exercise to to protect children.  Could you please tell be which it is?

With all due respect and I hate to criticise a personal failing but I found your presentation a little meandering.  At one stage we even ended up with you telling us about one of your little jaunts to New York and how they have draconian bans there.  I wouldn’t know about that first hand [not having a government expense account] but I have heard that the New York experience is extreme to say the very least.  Or are we back in the business of trying to outdo every other country?  I find the logic of doing something just because someone else is doing it a little discomforting.

Could you please tell me what the situation is regarding the consultation process?  You say there is to be a consultation on the smoking in cars, yet you say the law is being passed through its stages as we speak?  Similarly this new proposal is going through the consultative phase yet you state quite categorically that you will be introducing a bill.  So I take it then that the consultation process is redundant?

You did say quite clearly that you abhor the idea that this proposed ban is an act of a Nanny State.  You dismissed the Nanny State concept by explaining that Nanny State laws are aimed at adults, and that this law is not about adults.  So I take it from that that the new law will only apply to children?  So no child will be able to smoke while driving or while on the beach or in a public park?  I’m glad we cleared that one up.

To be honest, I found your whole presentation to be rather rambling and confused compared to your opponent in the debate, John Mallon of Forest Eireann

Finally, Minister I have a very simple question for you.

You professed to having a profound concern for the welfare of all Irish Citizens.  You obviously want to do everything in your power to prevent cancer?

Could you then tell me why a drug which is a proven cancer cure is not allowed by your department to enter the Irish market?  Could you please tell me why a couple are having to put their house and home on the market in order to avail of this drug which is available in other countries?

You, Sir [and I say this in all sincerity, and in a caring, constructive manner] are a steaming fucking hypocrite.

Yours etc,

Grandad

Fifteen Acres
No smoking here.
[for the sake of the children, of course]

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