Friday, August 31, 2007

A Face For Selling Drugs To

I have a face like a lightbulb.

I don't mean it's lightbulb-shaped, or that I'm bald - I mean I daren't leave the house with it uncovered, because I wind up surrounded by manky, scrawny, intensely annoying creatures.

I must look miserable or something - like Hicks, complete strangers walk up to me and ask, What's wrong?

As if that's not bad enough, everywhere I go, people try to sell me drugs.

Look at that guy, they must think. There's a guy who looks desperate for some grass.

It's the same today, going to get a haircut, textbook example - I walk past a guy and he says, I don't suppose you know, eh... and I stop, assuming he's after directions.

But no - he wants to sell me drugs. I've previously been stopped by a guy trying to sell me speed when I was dressed in a suit and tie, having just left a meeting with the Minister for Justice.

And it's not just drug dealers and bleeding hearts that I attract - alcoholics, deranged and amorous women who don't understand the phrase I have a girlfriend, religious cranks, recently released stab-wound victims... all of them engage me in conversation in bars, bus stops and beer gardens.

Well, if you've been born with a gift, why not use it?

So this is an offer to readers - do you love taking vast quantities of drugs, but have difficulty procuring them?

Secret hankering for an illicit affair with a crazy woman, but too shy to do the legwork?

Well, drop me an email - for fifty quid, you can hire me to stand next to you for an evening. Before you know it, you'll be beating off coke dealers and slappers left, right and centre.

Stroppy blogger, GSOH, no visible scars, uncut, seeks wealthy benefactor for evenings of flagrant exploitation.

Apply to the obvious address

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Ou Sont Les Neds D'Antan?

In comments to this post at the Sharpener, militant culture warrior Laban Tall shows up to lament the depravity of the modern era by waving anecdotal evidence on the crime rate in the 1840s...

"From the time of Engels’ “Condition of the Working Class in England in 1844″ until its lowest point in 1911 the trend in the recorded rate of violent crime– violent crimes per 100,000 of the population–was fairly steadily down. This was the case even though there was far deeper poverty than anyone experiences today."

Now, my first response was that comparing Britain in 1844 with Britain in 2007 is a little like comparing October to an octopus, but I've since realised that this is unfair.

What has changed since those oh-so-genteel days of chivalry and honour?

Well, I've got an MA in modern history, so I should be able to shed a little light...

1) Saucy, repressed aristocracy making the beast with two backs with the proletariat

From Lady Chatterly to Queen Victoria, it appears that no lady of high birth was content without a bit of grubby bumping with the servants.

It must've given those gardeners and gamekeepers a reason to keep their noses clean, lest a stray speck of dirt offend M'Lady when she required their personal attention.

Personally, I think it's a travesty that this tradition died out - from Helena Bonham Carter to Kiera Knightley in Atonement, we plebs are now denied our rightful chance to bounce upon the flower of aristocratic Britain.

I'm about as mild-mannered as they come, but thinking about this injustice makes me bloody furious. I can imagine how it affect the less placid among the great unwashed...

2) Empire

Name a random country, and there's a pretty good chance that we've sent an army there to kick fuck out of the locals and make off with their valuables. This meant that a lot of young lads who might otherwise have misspent their youth thieving on the streets of the Gorbals were instead sent out to beat some healthy respect into Johnny Foreigner.

The list of nations with whom the UK has picked fights is truly sensational, encompassing most of the globe, and even the most misty-eyed Imperialist would have to admit that most of these weren't exactly defensive actions.

I, for one, can't remember reading about young Winston dodging assegai during a Zulu assault on London, or deprivations caused by a Chinese blockade of Portsmouth.

This speaks to a seriously high level of aggression in the British character, as our former enemies can attest. Reading about Britain in the 19th century is a little like reading a version of The Lord of the Rings in which Tolkien dresses his orcs in starched uniforms and has them witter about the benefits of civilisation before they burn the Westfold.

Aggression on this scale can only be born of rage - we should be glad that our children aren't out mowing each other down with Gatling guns and claiming a monopoly on the production of tea and opium.

Of course, there are other trifling matters that cleave the 19th century from the 21st - consumer society, industrialisation and urbanisation on a huge scale with the attendant mass migration from country to city, mass transit, communications, the welfare state, the availability of cheap drugs, alcohol and weaponry, enfranchisement, education beyond the age of 10, a massive leap in life expectancy, the deliberate destruction of traditional industries leading to concentrations of mass unemployment, monetarism, the fall of the old aristocracy and our involvement in the two most devastating wars in human history, but it's worth considering.

Perhaps I'm being a little hasty in laughing off Laban's theory - after all, a hundred and fifty years is but a blink of an eye to a nation, and the age of steam doesn't seem so far removed from the age of information.

I must learn to think before I start reflexively taking the piss out of his rose-tinted binoculars.

Monday, August 27, 2007

This Mineshaft's Pure Bullshit, Man
By a Canary


Hey! Hey, you wi' the mad light on yer heid! Aye, you, deiflugs!

Got any seeds, man? Any seeds at aw - sunflooer seeds, thistle seeds, go on... if you've got any just chuck them intae mah cage here... Ah'm gantin' oan it.

Hey, are ye no listenin'?


Och, suit yersel', ah wisnae that bothered anyway. So, what's wi' the dust and dark an' that, then?

Oho, ah get it - this is one ay they mineshafts, eh no? Ah've heard aboot this kind ay thing back at the aviary and that - aw mad miners batterin' aboot wi' picks an' shovels, workin' their fingers tae the bone aw day...

Well, ye'll no get me pickin' up a fuckin' shovel, pal, ye can blow it oot yer erse - nae joker'll get this canary at the coalface. Ah'm just goin' tae sit back an' watch youse fannies dae it aw...

Twitter-Tweet! Aye, is this meant tae be scary or somethin'? Ah've laid scarier eggs, ya fud - this mineshaft's pure bullshit, man.

Ah mind the day that big budgie at the pet shop wis aw like, "Ho, cop the state ay that manky bastard over there - aw grimy wi' coal dust an' that. He's pure bought youse - youse're in the shite noo, by the way."

Well, that big lanky wank wis talkin' pish - ah'm no feart at aw... Ah'll take anythin' youse can chuck at us an' come back smilin'.


Aw, hey... mind you, it's awfy warm doon here... Christ, ah'm feelin' a bit mental likes... must still be buzzin' fae that cuttlefish last night and...

Ah might just get a wee kip here, just forty winks an-


Aw, shite man.

Who're youse lookin' at, eh? Can a canary no have a wee lie doon on the floor ay ays cage, eh?

Aye, that's right, beat it ya fannies! Ken a proper hard canary when yis see one, eh?

Twitter Tweet!

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Not Identical, But It'll Do For Now

In times of insanity, it's good to know that there are rational minds to light the beacon of reason for rudderless souls such as I.

We should give thanks, then, for Comrade Hitchens, who continues to fight the good fight. Today, he brings us the shocking news that President Bush occasionally makes poor decisions, and explains the various ways in which Iraq is dissimilar to Vietnam.

I'm surprised to learn of Bush's errors, since we keen Hitchens fans are accustomed to epic tributes to the President's wisdom. It's strange that, after seven years of barefaced corruption and slack-jawed incompetence, Hitchens would finally take exception to W's Vietnam comparison.

In fairness to Hitch, he has a good go at rebutting the proposition, but there are several compelling differences between Iraq and Vietnam that he's missed.

1) Vietnam is a land of hills and mountains, mostly covered in lush vegetation, whereas Iraq largely an arid desert.

2) Vietnam is full of Vietnamese people, whereas Iraq is mostly populated by Iraqis.

3) Vietnam is mostly coastal, whereas Iraq has very little coastline.

Of course, there are plenty of similarities between the two - both have been invaded by an American military machine that had no understanding of the political and ethnic tensions in the region, for instance.

Additionally, both have seen savage insurgencies in which the locals have been willing to sacrifice masses of their own lives to eject U.S. forces.

Now that I come to think of it, I actually can't stop stumbling over similarities between the wars fought in those countries - both land wars in Asia, both conducted by a gang of know-it-alls who won't listen to expert advice, both involving enemies that move freely into and out of neighbouring states.

Both unpopular wars, in countries where the locals are used to prolonged conflicts.

Complete confidence in technological superiority as the final arbiter of victory, leading to the use of concentrated, demonstrative violence to intimidate the insurgency.

Anti-war sentiment painted as disloyal, self-loathing, traitorous support for the enemy? Right-wing unhappy with result of previous conflict and certain the next war can't fail?

B-52 bombers. "Hearts and minds", "body count", "friendly fire". The U.S. can't withdraw without unacceptable loss of face.

Well, I find it rather confusing - re-reading Hitch's piece, his main objection to the Iraq/Vietnam comparison is that Terrorists Are Bad, while Vietnamese Communists were a heroic resistance.

If I didn't know better, I'd say that I could hear the sound of a barrel being scraped with a JCB.

Still, there's one last compelling difference between the two conflicts that Hitchens has missed - the Vietnam War was defended to the bitter end by fiercely committed ideologues who spent years penning erudite, eloquent essays to shore up support for their personal crusades.

When that starts happening, we'll know for sure that the helicopters are about to evacuate the embassy.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

All-Change At The Department Of Vengeance
BBC News, 21st August 2011

Dirty Barry Thorpe MP vowed today to exterminate red tape in the revenge process and crack down upon activist nay-sayers.

Addressing a baying, drunken mob, the new Minister for Vengeance promised a more streamlined system which would cut the interval between accusation and execution to a maximum of five minutes.

"The British people are sick of criminals being let off the hook," he said, to the accompaniment of loud cheering. "I pledge to end the practice of hanging criminals from shoddy, rusty hooks, and can announce the purchase of ten thousand of the biggest, pointiest, most robust hooks money can buy."

Mr. Thorpe takes up his position after his predecessor, "Mad" Jimmy Cleaver, was dragged from his ministerial car and dismembered following the publication of a story alledging that Mr. Cleaver "Looked like a Paedo".

Asked whether he would do anything to address the spate of recent garrottings of people later revealed to be innocent, Mr. Thorpe sprang from his chair and began pounding the offending journalist's head on the floor.

"I. Don't. Care. About. That!" he shouted, forcefully punctuating each word before dropping the unfortunate hack's lifeless body and straightening his tie.

"Britain has had enough of failures in the system - nobody wants to return to the bad old days, when we accepted the rule of law through a codified system of checks and balances."

"We all remember how that turned out, don't we? All over the place, criminals getting away with it."

The Minister then extolled the many successes of Vigilantism since its introduction in 2009, announcing the summary execution of 119,625 criminals in the last year, a fourteen percent increase.

"Innocent people, by and large, don't have anything to fear from the Ministry of Vengeance," he said. "9 times out of 10, the correct culprit is identified and dispatched."

"The moment they decided to break the law, all of those fuckers lost their so-called 'right' not to be repeatedly stabbed in the throat with a broken bottle."

Mr. Thorpe's appointment comes at a time when the government has a 97% approval rating on vengeance-issues, and supporters were vociferous in their agreement.

"I've hung my share of scumbags," said Bill Roper, 68. "Anyway, we wouldn't have any of these problems if foreigners didn't exist."

Monday, August 20, 2007

Rodent's Law

A quick observation to tide you over while I'm busy...

So, let's say that some dipshit at a hospital in Glasgow decided that, in a well-meaning but idiotic effort to further relations between religions, it would be a good idea to ban staff from eating their lunch at their desks during Ramadan.

So as not to be insensitive, you see.

Just assuming that this is true (bear in mind that it's being reported by the Daily Express), what would your response be?

Mine is "Christ, a Glasgow hospital has employed a cretin."

My reaction would most definitely not be, "This is how societies commit suicide." Nor would it be "Doctors Give In To Muslims," and I definitely wouldn't place Scotland, one of the whitest nations in Western Europe, on "Sharia-Watch."

I wouldn't do any of those things because I a) possess a sense of proportion and b) am not a honking cretin.

So, before anyone drifts by to tell me that I am sleepwalking to Dhimmification, allow me to note the basis of Rodent's Law...

"To every idiotic action there is an equally idiotic reaction."

That's the appliance of science, that.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

Befuddled Egyptologists Struggle With Unfamiliar Hieroglyphics
"Perhaps Thutmose II Suffered From Unusual Genetic Mutation," Leading Archaeologists Suggest
BBC News, 18th August 2007

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Awareness Raising

My mate Malky has finally bitten the bullet and started his own blog - please, head over and say hello.

If you feel you can't support him, don't worry - I won't find it suspicious in the slightest.


Hello, Shogun Debt Recovery - Ayame Kimura speaking, how may I help?

...Ah, Bill Thompson-San, so good of you to call. I assume you wish to discuss the letter you have received?

...Yes, that is correct, Edinburgh City Council state that you have missed a Council Tax payment and have passed your debt to us.

In accordance with our procedures, we have ordered a master ninja to collect your head.

...Please, calm down Thompson-San... Yes, I did say "collect your head". Your bad faith in missing a payment has brought shame upon the ancestors of Edinburgh City Council, and they cry furiously for vengeance from the afterlife.

...No, I'm afraid that cash will not suffice. Once the recovery procedure has begun it cannot be reversed - your debt must be paid in blood, and our master ninja Hideo has been dispatched to splatter several pints of yours over a very wide area.

...Yes, I'm afraid that our records indicate that you failed to make a payment in April.

...Oh, you did? Perhaps there has been an error. Do you have a receipt?

...I see. In that case, I suggest that you make your peace with your loved ones and prepare to join your forefathers in the hereafter...

...Oh, don't worry about that. Master Hideo is a consummate professional and your family is quite safe, unless he decides to make an example of you.

...Please, Thompson-San, cursewords will not help. After all, it is not I who will soon leap silently from behind your couch and slash you open from neck to navel. It will not be me who spears you through the eye with a dart coated in the deadly neurotoxin of the fugu fish.

...Yes, I'm afraid our silent assassins are quite unstoppable - one moment you shall be strolling merrily through the park with your fair wife, and the next she will turn to address a fine cloud of arterial mist.

...Now now, Thompson-San, I must advise you that your baseball bat will be of no assistance. We do not call our ninjas "silent assassins" because they arrive playing the bagpipes, ha ha!

No, any resistance on your part will merely cause you more pain as you spend the last two seconds of your dishonourable, debt-ridden life staring in horror at the bloody stumps of your wrists.

...Please, Thompson-San, I can assure you that- yes, I understand but- Thompson San-

...Well, I shall make Edinburgh City Council aware of your displeasure at their actions, but I would advise you to make use of what little time you have by putting your finances in order.

Ha ha, ironic isn't it?

...Yes, no problem Thompson-San.

...Have a nice day!

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Not So Hot, Karl

Having lamented Rummy's guillotining in the political mousetrap, it's only fair to note fat rat Karl Rove's headlong scurry for the lifeboats.

Rove's career highlights have been noted elsewhere, as the American media pile richly deserved scorn upon his once-glowing reputation as a political genius - what I'm yet to read is a single journo admitting their complicity in creating that golden image.

See, I read a lot of American news. I recall many a profile of Rove in the past seven years or so, and they only turned abusive when the President's poll numbers tanked into the toilet. Before that - well, it was Rove the Boy-Wonder, Rove the Political Guru, Red-Hot Karl the Baron of the Beltway.

As Matt Taibbi once wrote, you would've thought Rove was a modern Tom Sawyer, cleverly tricking America into whitewashing his Aunt's picket fence.

And yet there's nothing innovative about fragging your opponents by blasting them with traitor-bombs, just as there's nothing clever about squeaking elections by snuggling up to snake-handlers, bigots and lunatics.

As if frightening swing voters into ticking your box by flooding the airwaves with tongue-kissing gays in Massachusetts was the height of political acumen!

The New York Times' editorial today bemoans the damage he wrought, yet I can't see the paper asking itself how such a man could rise to a position of power.

Well, in much the same way monomaniacs like Kissinger and Nixon did - by gaining the consent of the media and political establishment with earnest, confident bullshit. It worked for Yeltsin, Putin, Berlusconi and Blair, and it'll work for the glorious frauds that follow them.

I ordinarily avoid bloggers who spend their lives bitching about the evil EmEssEm, but if it had been doing its job when it mattered then the world might have avoided some of the seven years of bullshit sombre hacks are bemoaning today.

Karl Rove, a grubby little fearmonger who deals in lies, evasion and deceit?

Well, no shit. Any others in the pipeline you'd like to warn us about?

Customer Service Announcement

Mattel Recalls "Dangerous" Toys
Millions of Units Recalled - 2006/07 Models

Full List of Recalled Products:

"Li'l Shaolin" Playtime Nunchaku

Glo-In-The-Dark Polonium Paintset

"Tickle Me Jacko" King of Pop Doll

Barbed Wire Barbie, extra-pointy Special Edition

"Sprach 'n' Spell" My First Mein Kampf

"Asphyxotron - Asbestos Robot Warrior"

"Wee-Plop Pammy", the incontinent wipe-clean Dolly with genuine gastroenteritis

Fisher Pricetm Day-Glo Zanee Plastic-Bag Party-Hatz

Black 'n' Decker "My First D.I.Y." Drill 'n' Sandblaster Set

"Frostee The Sno-man's Under-the-Sink Lemonade-Mixer"

Stanley, "the Little Razor With the BIG Personality"

My Little Panzerschreck

Saturday, August 11, 2007


Apologies due to Viz, as ever.

Book Review - The Oxford English Dictionary

As a life-long lover of literature, I am no stranger to transgressive fiction. Thus I do not say this lightly - never in my long history in letters have I beheld a book as relentlessly lewd as the Oxford English Dictionary.

Let's leave aside the poor structure, feeble plot development and incoherent dialogue - what we have here is a tome of such unremitting filth that it should only be sold with a parental warning.

All those dirty words so beloved in playgrounds across the nation are here - the "F" word, the "C" word and the "Cocksucker" word.

One does not have to probe far within the covers to find a "shit" "eating" "donkey" "rapist", either.

In short, this is not a book for the faint-hearted.

It is not the common profanity that most offends - it is the egregious debasement of the English language itself, as otherwise innocuous words are imbued with throbbing, priapic potential.

Seminal. Analyse. Rectify.

Nothing is safe in the hands of these authors, as they gleefully splatter the lexicon with perversion.

Penalise. Regina. Ramparts.

Even the animal kingdom is not safe, as they bring us a cavorting cavalcade of beavers, pudus and dik-diks. It is debauchery without end.

Frankly, when I take my leatherbound dictionary in my hands, the last thing I want is to have a bony coccyx thrust down my throat.

Clearly, the authors believe that there is a market for such deviancy - well, I am here to tell them in no uncertain terms that they have fallen victim to a Phallusy.

Readers, if you value quality literature, I implore you - do not buy this disgraceful affront to common decency.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

Attention Britain - Nobody Is Persecuting You

1) Unfortunate Guardian hack makes perfectly reasonable point that any football team whose fans indulge in bigoted chanting should be punished.

2) Horde of fuckheads descend on comments thread to shout "But what about x,y and z, which are clearly worse," before accusations of bias, political correctness and equivalence begin to fly.

As a Celtic supporter myself, I'm no stranger to conspiracy theories and persecution complexes, but there's no escaping the truth - any football team whose fans indulge in bigoted chanting should be punished, and that includes mine.

This thread, however, is highly instructive in understanding the state of modern debate.

Over the years I've been fortunate enough to deal with representatives of most major faith groups, lobbyists, businesses, public services, football supporters clubs and members of the public - and each one has had its own special, lovingly-crafted tale of woe.

If I can summarise the worldview of each, it would be "Our group is unfairly discriminated against and there is far too much pandering to political/ethnic/religious group (x)."

Would you like to know a dirty little secret about the British public?

When it comes to farcical claims of racist discrimination, to choose a random example, it's not Muslims or Sikhs or Jews that make the most - it's white people who I hear claiming prejudice most often.

Let me be clear, this isn't because white people are more prone to claiming victimhood - it's because there are more white people than there are minorities, and everybody is at it.

As a people, collectively, we have become a nest of squawking chicks clambering over each other for the regurgitated worms of attention. This is not a basis on which to build a better nation.

Well, attention Britons of all creeds, colours and political affiliations - nobody is persecuting you, and righteous victimhood is a self-destructive impulse.

Please, stop it now, or I'll continue to bore you further.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree

Hello - Flying Rodent's Granddad here.

You know, despite having been dead for ten years, even I was disgusted to hear the great whoosh of moving goalposts while reading Oliver Kamm's essay yesterday about the righteousness of the nuclear attacks on Japan in 1945.

Since I'm a cantankerous old get who far prefers filthy personal abuse and invective to rational discussion (much like my grandson, I must say), I settled for cursing a blue streak and wishing weeping sores and a septic anus upon Mr. Kamm.

But when I'd calmed down, I suddenly wondered what I would have posted upon hearing news of the bombings, had I not been stationed in Alexandria fifty-odd years before the invention of the internet at the time.

And I think it might have gone like this - click to enlarge...

Saturday, August 04, 2007

Hands Off My Loaves And Fishes, Hippies

15Then went the Pharisees unto Libertarian Jesus, and took counsel how they might entangle him in his talk.

16And they sent out unto him their disciples with the Herodians, saying, O Great Libertarian Master, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man: for thou regardest not the person of men.

17Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not?

18And Libertarian Jesus spatteth the dummy, and did say, Taxation is a tyranny upon the common man.

19I say unto thee that Caesar must go forth even unto Fuck, for I shall not render a single shekel unto that Onanist.

20And the Pharisees rejoiced, for they knew that Pilate would give Libertarian Jesus a bloody good crucifying, and sent forth for the legions.

21But Lo, Libertarian Jesus hadst not finished by a long shot, and did bend the ears of the Pharisees, saying, Big governorship is inherently self-interested and should be overthrown by a mass movement of individuals.

22Truly, I knowest how to spend my hard earned coin, and no quill-pushing scribe should spend it on aquaducts and such foolishness.

23And the Pharisees became annoyed, and did say, Surely the LORD smileth upon aquaducts, for they hath improved sanitation.

24And, This stuff about smashing the state doth sound good in theory, but surely it is but passing water in the wind, for it shall never work in reality. Nobody shalt go for such nonsense.

25Truly, Libertarian Jesus, thou art wasting thy time and ours.

26But Libertarian Jesus was great in wrath, and did goeth on at great length about negative liberty and natural law.

27And on.

28And on and on.

29And there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and the Pharisees begged Libertarian Jesus to holdeth his peace, but to no avail.

30And lo, presently the Legion came upon Libertarian Jesus, and gave him a bloody good crucifying.

31And there was much rejoicing and loud were the hosannas.

32And Libertarian Jesus looked down upon the Pharisees and said, Forgive them LORD, for they know not the principles of Minarchism.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Flying Rodent Retread

In honour of Queen guitarist Brian May's submission of his PhD thesis, I thought I'd republish this...

Sweet Jesus, now the idiots are ganging up on us, combining their lunacy in an effort to drag us all into the stone age...

"Bible-based criticism of evolution, once limited to Protestant fundamentalists in the United States, has become an issue in France now that Pope Benedict and some leading Catholic theologians have criticized the neo-Darwinist view of creation.

An Islamist publisher in Turkey mass-mailed a lavishly illustrated Muslim creationist book to schools across France recently, prompting the Education Ministry to proscribe the volume and question the way the story of life is taught here."

All we need now is for the religious nutjobs to join forces with the reflexologists, and a new age of barbarism will consume mankind.

None of this is new, of course. Scientific method has been under assault since at least 1978, when a PhD student of astronomy attempted to disprove the theory that the Earth rotates because of residual momentum/kinetic energy from the formation of the Earth and Solar System.

A young Brian May, of the popular music combo "Queen", astounded the scientific establishment with his assertion that it was in fact Fat Bottomed Girls that made the world go round.

On closer inspection, however, this theory is blatantly false. Since 1978, the average body mass in developed nations has increased markedly, while the Earth's rotation is actually slowing.

This is unsurprising, as Mr. May is obviously given to flights of fancy. It also seems inconceivable that any responsible parent would leave a mere skinny lad alone with a childminder bearing the moniker of "Big Fat Fanny", as he later claimed.

Looking at this, I've begun to consider the possibility that Brian May hasn't actually done any research, and made it all up as he was going along. I have a good mind to report him to the Royal Astronomical Society for his duplicity.

Be'elzebub has a devil put aside for such charlatans.

P.S. This is before we consider the noted climatologist and fraudster Carly Simon, whose controversial thesis on the formation of cirro-stratus in coffee cups were thoroughly debunked in 1972.

Any high school science student knows that the micro-climate of a coffee cup causes heat to dissipate far too rapidly for the formation of clouds.

And let us not discuss Professor Pop's pretensions of cheetah-hood, nor his claims regarding napalm.

Simple Answers To Simple Questions

Some joker at the Independent asks, Why are right wing bloggers more prolific online than left wing ones?

A question to which the prolific Tim Worstall responds, Because those on the right are the literate ones...

...Being able to crack open an introductory text on philosophy, history or economics ("Janet and John do Supply and Demand" for example) and grasp the contents does tend to remove you from the mouth breathing socialist column to the liberal capitalist one.

Who knows, he may well be correct - I was going to say that it's because bullshit tends to expand to fill the space provided.

But on reflection, I'm inclined to say that it's because 100,000 guys wanking each other off will generate significantly more heat than 100,000 guys going solo.

Science, that.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Frozen Assets

So the Russians have planted their flag underneath the Arctic to support their claims to ownership - I can't say I'm surprised.

This is, after all, a nation with some experience in capturing Poles.

Frankly, given Russia's present size, this just looks like greed - you could fit the USA, Europe and Australia within its borders and still find room for fifty million drunken coal miners to beat each other with shovels.

I'm not overly alarmed by this development, provided that the polar bears don't start dropping dead of Polonium poisoning. Whatever mineral deposits lie beneath the ice floes, I'm suspicious that the Russians are just searching for somewhere to send those of their citizens who are too frightening to be allowed to live in Siberia.

Still, if the Russians are so desperate to hoover up the world's oil that they'd annex a blasted wilderness of blizzards and ice with barely any traces of civilisation, they should consider planting their flag in Scotland.

It's much like the Arctic, except you can get a pie and a pint when the notion takes you.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Of Asses and Asylum

This stuff about criminal gangs trafficking in Bulgarian babies is really getting us people-smugglers a bad name.

I have to be honest - when I first got into it, I did it for the buzz of helping people. You know how it is, though, pretty soon you get used to the additional income and before you know it you can't live without the extra cash.

The first time was when I was on holiday in Albania - a very pleasant, well-spoken gentleman offered me five hundred quid to smuggle his daughters into the UK. He made their futures sound so miserable that, looking into their puppy-dog eyes, I just couldn't say no.

So, just before I headed back to the airport, I swallowed them both. You've no idea how stressful it is passing through customs with a pair of Albanian teenagers concealed in your stomach.

One flight and one dose of laxatives later, they were ready to begin their new lives in Scotland.

Pretty soon I was making fifteen trips a year, bringing in two or three people at a time - the more connections I made, the more people were keen to make use of my services.

Well, suffice to say, I'm considering getting out of the game - I was pulled over by immigration on the last run while carrying a family of Roma and a Somali goat-herder up my arse. I only got away because a fight broke out in the line behind me, and I made my escape.

So it enrages me to hear these sanctimonious know-nothings describe people-smugglers as criminals.

If any of these hypocrites have ever tried to help some sobbing Russian triplets by wedging them up their backsides then waddling past airport security, I'll eat my hat.