I have been saying it for a while..

and now the first shoots of evidence are begining to poke through.

Football is as doomed as epilectic octupus at a gelignite juggling jamboree!

Recently we had the Quakers, (Darlington) go into administration. They had a last minute reprieve courtesy of a 50k bung from fans and local busnisses but they are surely on their way.

Now one half of the Weegies are being advised to seek refuge from it’s creditors.

Just like the banks, these self absorbed ‘sportsmen’ have been riding the wave of their own ridiculous publicity.

Continue reading “I have been saying it for a while..”

Call me Charlton Heston

A hysterical female voice was on the end of the telephone line that, because of her high-pitched alarmed tone, I couldn’t make out who it was. I passed the receiver over to my wife to see if she could decipher the caller’s problem.

I miss the old original phones. The ones with the huge round dialling face. It was an effort trying to ring an 8 or a 9 number on one of those cumbersome machines. Your pointer would trail round the track with a NASCAR’s differential until it reached the end of the line. Then you let go and the wheel spun back. Pure bliss. Continue reading “Call me Charlton Heston”

Græcia delenda est

I’m borrowing a thought from the insightful Ambrose Evans-Pritchard (to name but a few!) in today’s DT, where he describes the German proposals for Greece as ‘Carthaginian’. (Google, if you will.) The point is that when Carthage lost to Rome in 146 BC (3 – 0) the ensuing ‘peace’ settlement was unforgiving and ruinous. (Not unlike Man Utd’s moral defeat of Liverpool after Suarez-gate.)

The facts indicate that since Greece has never been able to implement any plan involving the collection of taxes and control of its civil service, yesterday’s ‘approval’ by the Parliament is worth less than the paper the local Hansard will waste on recording it. If the Troika of money-lenders (sinners that they are) decides to drop further trillions down the Hellenic drain, it will precipitate revolution in Greece: a phenomenon which has relatively frequently been the result of any attempt at government there.

Better by far, if like a parent out of patience with a profligate teenager, the Troika says no. Then the Greeks can find out what their economy is worth, as opposed to what it costs the rest of Europe.

Frozen milk

We woke to the telephone. Being the first day of half term no-one had to be anywhere at any particular time and Cyclo decided that a bike ride was out of the question, so we hadn’t set the alarm. It seems the plumber had been up for hours and it was before 9am. I suppose it wasn’t surprising since the temperature was pretty low last night, down to -14c in some places. Anyhoo, the plumber was ringing as I had left a message last night – for a leak unrelated to the cold. The shower pump – again.

I got up and bought in the milk which had frozen and spilled out into small globules on the doorstep, then took a tray of tea back up to bed, where it was warmer.

Pippi-long-Stocking, the cat, enjoyed eating the milk globules Continue reading “Frozen milk”

Arrows of desire

Luckily for me, St Valentine’s burial in Rome is celebrated on 14th February, which happens to precede my birthday by a couple of days (69, yin yang, nod nod, wink wink, say no more, cheeky!). So every year I get the chance to romance Mrs Janus in good time, to ensure that my birthday will receive the attention it so richly deserves. Yer gotta speculate to accumulate, innit?

But, cherished readers, have you ever wondered what my title is doing in Blake’s famous poem, ‘Jerusalem’?

 File:Eros@Piccadilly.jpg

‘Bring me my Bow of burning gold; Bring me my Arrows of desire……‘ What on earth is the mischievous Eros doing in a hymn? As far as I know, the random or serendipitous demands of lust are not recognised as Christian (or even Roman Catholic) virtues.

Answers, please, on a pink, perfumed blank cheque addressed to yours truly.