Category: Terminally boring

What else, Mr President?

Silver tongued Obama waxes lyrical about his country’s reationship with the UK. The usual suspects are wheeled out – I won’t remind you – to instruct us to Remain.

Don’t be fooled. Obama has two goals: to lead the global debate and just as significantly, to be seen to favour the EU as an institution. He can never support its breakup and the overt fragmentation of foreign policy. He does not respect the sovereignty of individual states, except his own! He wants a world map to show a single block of colour between the Atlantic and Russia. Simplistic? Yes, that’s US politics.

Bucket List: Snickers to that one

While I can still run it crossed my mind to complete a marathon. Reasonably fit, for my age, with a bit of training the 26 miles would be a walk in the park for me. My feat would evoke envy in those runners that have the marathon on their bucket list. With the goal of outbucketing the bucketeers I prepared. I got as far as buying comfortable training shoes but after a few jogs I got phed up with dese and chucked them in the bin.

There’s no point in a marathon. Going pell-mell with the hoi polloi in the peloton, all those miles of torture just to fleetingly pass El Diablo and then there’s the side stiches.  Do it for charity not the glory, opined some. I do charity, I never pass a bucket in the street or shops without throwing in some loose drachma. You can do it in a chicken suit, opined others. οικόσιτα πτηνά, my left caruncle. Don’t spartan something you can’t finish, opined the do ‘ave ’ems. They were right, that’s what got this silly run going in the first place.

I blame the Persians. If only those ancient sons of Zoroaster could fight.

Newfound stuff of old

Discovered on my hard drive’s page 7 was a TV film from last year, An Inspector Calls. I swivered over whether to delete or not. Not got the verdict and I watched.

The play in question was part of my English O grade course a few Keith Moons ago. I couldn’t remember anything about it as, during the readings, I was too busy throwing paper planes and making passes, unrequited I must add, at my beloved Lillian. Therefore, the story was all new to me.

I’d give it a six out of ten. Criticisms were that the Birling family must have been well birling not to ask to see the Inspector’s I.D. And David Thewlis, the actor playing the Inspector, had all the charisma of a stopped clock.

Still, like Columbus, it’s good to discover. And that’s one play less to score off my play list. Now, away to rummage in the loft and see if there’s any old DVDs still in the wrappers. I’m sure there’s a Dustin Hoffman Death of a Salesman gathering dust up there.

A Square Go

It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it? And it was Time magazine that stated in this week’s issue.

“In a milestone for AI, a google program beat South Korean grand master Lee Sodol at the strategy game GO on March 15. But machines have been mastering board games since the 1970s”

Awhile ago I wrote a blog about the Chinese game of Go on these pages. Nosey parkers that they are, I am sure that was the reason google made the super program. They love it when they beat humans, love it. They’re making driverless cars. They love it. Famously, the Deep Blue computer beat Garry Kasparov at chess but google have went one move further with their Go victory. They’re loving every minute of it.

The only thing that humans have left is Battleships. There’s not a computer programme made or ever will be made that can come anywhere near the standard of some of the truly great Battleship players of this era.

Little lies, big lies and a beautiful disguise

There are two things that screenplay writers script that smack of laziness and just an excuse to kill time; much like having to write a 2,000 word essay and filling it up with verbiage and periphrasis. One of them is the reading of the Miranda rights to a suspect. By now you can go and make a cup of tea while the cops quote the full speech. “..If you can’t afford an attorney-” cetra, cetra. The other thing is the lie detector test.

How many times have you heard the deflating dialogue that states “a polygraph test is inadmissible in court.” Nhhhhhhhh. The lie detector test could well be the most useless thing ever invented… if we exclude rugby from the list. (upsetting the ruggeristas is a sure fire way to get a comment, even if it is a rebuke)

The pioneer of the modern polygraph was William Moulton Marston. His original research was expounded upon and “bettered” by other scientists though he is credited with being the father of the machine that felons fake their way through with a steady heartbeat.

However, our Willie wasn’t a one-trick filly. He also invented Wonder Woman. Continue reading “Little lies, big lies and a beautiful disguise”

Travelling through different dimensions

If you’re insane, do you know you’re insane?

If you can withstand pain, where is the pain?

If you’re a zombie, what is a zombie?

If you’re ugly, why are you ugly?

If you can work any of these out, you’re a better worker outer than me.

That’s not music, this is music

Slayer is a way of life.

Of the big four, they play the purest form of Thrash Metal. Mozart was, allegedly, accused of making too many notes. I would Eden Hazard a guess that a four minute Slayer song will have more notes in it than any of Agadoos’ symphonies. The speed and intricacy of the guitar solos are mesmerising. Memorising them is a walk on part for these guitar geniuses.

Then there’s the drums. You don’t get many double bass drums in classical music. That would be a drum too far for those “virtuosos”. They couldn’t keep up to our beat.

The bassist/singer of Slayer, Tomas Enrique Araya Diaz, might look like a Billy Connolly lookalike but this Big Tam was born in Chile. There’s a lot of nice wines come from Chile. No really, there is. I don’t know if it’s Global Warming, Climate Change or Alec Salmond, there’s something in the chilled Chile that slays the opposition.

Parental guidance. The following video contains swearing.

Live Fast. On High. Repentless. Let it Ride.

Play it Loud.

Whatever happened to……

Hollywood? As usual I avoided watching the luvvies’ love-in known as the Academy Awards but couldn’t quite miss the agonised reports by the meeja experts.

This year the LA glitterati seemed to be determined to dress badly, speak badly and in most ways to ape their political contemporaries. No glamour, less charisma and even less talent.

Is this all the result of home screens taking over from cinemas? Do the best actors/actresses make tv series now? Is Hollywood as we know it a fading memory?

German Wines? German? And Wines? Am I hearing you right?

The title is a nod to the Peter Kay Garlic Bread sketch many vines ago, in case you were wondering.

Today, in a second hand bookshop I bought The Atlas of German Wines. I would have preferred the Atlas of German Sausages but you can only buy what’s on the shelf. Browsing the book I was impressed with the printing of the maps; colourful, detailed and understandable. I scoffed the book up and took it home.

Further analysis in the homeland made me question my monetary decision (two quid, in case you were wondering), I mean, are the Germans famous for their winemaking? German and Wines? Call me Latin if you will but I had heard that the Italians were the best grape growers and squashers. Yet I hope to copy Peter Kay’s epiphany when tasting garlic bread by enjoying the taste of fine wines from Germany.

Wild plans have been marked out on blueprint. A wine rack will be assembled in the loft (we don’t have no cellars). Not just any old wine rack, it’ll be a fancy one with decorations. Maybe the odd gargoyle or two. Only German wines will be permitted to lie on the racks. I smack my lips in anticipation and sing a Bing. ♪ I’m dreaming of a wine loft.♫

My dreams of Rhine wines was brought back to reality by my wife. “You don’t like wine. German, Italian or Chilean.” Chilean wine? Chile? And wine? Chilly wine, perhaps but not Chile wine.

She was right, though. I don’t like wine. It gives me the lethal cocktail of a sore head and indigestion. (don’t anybody start with a – sore head and indigestion? Sore head? Indigestion? witticism).

The wine idea has gone down the drain. I’ll stick to the tried and trusted. From here on in it’s only pints of beer for me. And I’ll be on the look out for a book on German beer. Or sausages.