Cabin full of Diesel Exhaust? – No Problem.

First Mate:   “Does this boat have a Carbon Monoxide detector?”
Bilge Rat  “Yes of course, I bought one especially for this trip”
First Mate “Where is it?”
Bilge Rat  “Well it is in the bin under the V- berth, I did not get around to installing it yet”

Don’t let the presence of diesel exhaust fumes, soot and high levels of Carbon Monoxide in the cabin distress you.  A cracked exhaust elbow on your diesel generator is easily fixed with common household items.

Continue reading “Cabin full of Diesel Exhaust? – No Problem.”

Reds Under The Bed?

It seems Ms May has stuck her wrinkly neck out again.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-23790578

yjavk9I am all for police powers to detain suspect terrorists, don’t get me wrong. But this is a clear cut case of abuse of power and I will bet a pound to a pinch of poo that no copper made the decision to hold the Guardianistas boyfriend for 9 hours on such flimsy grounds. Continue reading “Reds Under The Bed?”

A little concerned…

It seems our crack gun squad federales have bagged themselves a perp who was brandishing a shooter in the manor of Walthamstow.

Warthog
While on the beat, PC Perkins spotted a litter violation.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-23775776

“No probs” I hear you say. “The slag had it coming” and I would be inclined to agree.

But..

This particular perp, was not scraped off the kerb and bagged as exhibit A, nor was he bundled into a coroners van and carved up down the morgue. He was put into an ambulance and is now under close arrest in hospital. i.e. he is still breathing. According to the feds, he has gunshot wounds to the arms!!!

Back in the day when they were dumb enough to trust me with bullets, the rules of engagement were very clear on the matter.

Continue reading “A little concerned…”

Hey pal! See you! Shcum so ye are!

Rab-C-Nesbitt(Apologies to Jay Dubya about the weegie stereotype but he cracks me up.)

The Beeb are most definitely over egging the pudding. In fact I would say there isn’t any pudding just egg.

Apparently this year there is going to be some kind of sports afternoon in ol’ Rab’s neck o the woods.

Yesterday the website selling tickets opened for business then promptly had a seizure and shut down again. The Beeb reports “because of the overwhelming demand … yada yada yada”. It turns out, there were 16,000 people trying to get a ticket. Most of those will be corporates and touts looking to make a quick shilling no doubt and yes some of them will be genuine fans of sport who would like to watch some pillock throw a stick further than another pillock.

Here’s the eggy bit. The Weegie website fell over because 0.025% of the UK population tried to use it.  16K out of 64 million people doesn’t exactly sound like a stampede to me, but the Beeb reckon its a landslide.

On the flip side of the coin. A wee note tae a’ ye sweaties who wad be free.

If you can’t even put together a www page for a “global event” that can withstand a miniscule portion of people looking sideways at it before it self destructs, perhaps being expected to tie your own shoelaces is not for you. Maybe you had better leave things like running a country to the grown ups.

Backyard Invaded by Aliens.

I was poking around the property yesterday and listing all the jobs to be done, trim this, cut that wash this, oil that.  All the result of long absence and hired lawn care, when I came upon two giants in the side yard. Image

Trees, or at least large bushes, about five feet tall and five or six across.  They were definitely not there when I left.

Continue reading “Backyard Invaded by Aliens.”

War and What Follows.

I read in the Telegraph today that there is some dispute concerning the centennial of the start of the Great War next year. The United Kingdom, of Europe but not in Europe, is inclined to mark the event as a memorial to those who died serving their country and their empire. (Lest it be forgotten, Asian Indians, West Indians, Africans, etcetera all fought on the side of Britons from the mother country and from the domains overseas) On the continent, especially in Germany, events will be more muted. The war will rightfully be treated as a tragic and unnecessary event with the horrid addition of the celebration of the EU as the institution that spared Europe another major war since the inception of its first ancestor in 1957. (Never mind that the Conference of Vienna provided something resembling peace in Europe for almost a century. Interestingly enough, some 30 years or so after the end of the Napoleonic Wars the Revolutions of 1848 tore through Europe much like the social upheavals of 1968 tore through the continent/world) Diplomatic pressure is being put on the UK to avoid having too triumphant an approach, particularly by Germany with the veiled threat that co-operation on reforms of the EU might not be so forthcoming. Were one to consider only political concerns this would alone be rancid. In general different views of the same events can be accommodated; the perceptions of the victors, losers and those on the periphery all have a place. Threatening political/diplomatic repercussions for this threatens the very existence of free debate.

Few celebrate the death and destruction of a generation (though I will freely admit to having no shortage of contempt for the European obsession with the death tolls of European wars. Per capita Japan’s civil wars, the Hawai’ian Wars of Unification, the US Civil War, Chinese civil wars/dynastic changes, etcetera killed far more without the ensuing political insanity. The Battle of Dan-no-Ura killed 400,000, for example). However, the British view is more realistic – and healthy. Most understand that Germans were fighting for their country, empire and its interests as much as Britons were for theirs. As an historian, the taking hostage of historical fact for the purpose of politics is frightening. It is certainly not unprecedented, but it is dishonest both intellectually and methodologically. It also seems aimed at obscuring the fact that the continent has not learnt the lessons of the wars of the twentieth centuries. Rather than trying to find something that somehow provides stability, Europe seems intent on returning to the 16th century politically hoping that what failed then will not fail now. (Incidentally, the 17th century Thirty Years War was also highly destructive and resulted in something far saner)

Death of a Mackerel

All of the following is true. Just so you know.

Not once in my life have I ever gone fishing. I just don’t see the point in it; fishing means as much to me as rugby or golf or gardening. My son’s future father-in-law is a devoted fisherman and a very nice man. We have lots in common and have always got on like a house on fire. At get-togethers we’re as close as clams. Umpteen times he has asked me if I would like to angle with him. After giving him the old Harvey Smith gesture and behaving like a stubborn show jumping horse by pulling up before the fence- refusal, refusal, I relented and agreed to go fishing for the one time with the proviso that I might go back for more if it were my cup of coffee. Continue reading “Death of a Mackerel”

Poetry Comp

I put this in a comment in the August Poetry Competition, but no one seems to have noticed it. Not that I am egotistical or anything, but I hope it might encourage some others to have a go!

Summertime

Summertime, the time for clouds,
Summertime, the time for crowds,
This means it’s time to reach
A tiny area of the beach.

Manky deck chairs squash your thumbs,
Solid benches numb your bums
The rain falls relentlessly
To bugger the al fresco tea!

Yellow sand just all around
It’s dodgy to sit on the ground
The sand finds each nook and cranny
Especially those of dear old Granny.

The wind blows almost everywhere
Causes the ancient windbreak to tear.
To inflate the lilo is just enough
To make you run out of puff.

Now the floods begin to flow
It really is just time to go
Now the bit to break your heart,
The bloody car won’t start!

A pessimist, moi? 🙂

Beware

Dear Cherished Colleagues

I am writing to you for the first time from outside The Cave, namely from the cafe in the village that has just become an internet hotspot (or whatever you call it). This is ace as I can now ride the Chariot and have a beer at the same time. Who said thick-pawed wolves couldn’t multitask?

Anyway, to business. The reason I am here is because I have been hit by something called malware. I was called just before Christmas by somebody in London purporting to be from Windows who claimed I had big problems with my OS and that they could help. It was all very, very plausible until the barsteward asked for credit card details, at which point I put the phone down. Now he may have been a Nigerian prince I don’t know, but even I would not give such details to some stranger who rang me. Then, a month or so ago, my computer warned me that its disc was full and that it was infected. The messages looked like genuine Microsoft error messages and invited me to follow procedures to recover disk space. After about four steps the program required money to eradicate further files.

It took a French friend of mine with a geek IQ quotient way off the scale four beers to decontaminate my poor computer and it is now bug free and which is why I’m still in the cafe.

So, be warned.

OZ