Playing the game

Mrs S and I were taking advantage of the weather this morning, sitting on the deck, drinking coffee and enjoying the view under cloudy skies. Observing differences in the weather from Thursday evening. Last night was quite the sight. A huge weather system dominating the whole sky was drifting in from the Pacific like a whirlpool galaxy made up of streaks of scudding cloudlets lit by a gibbous moon. Quite spectacular.

I’d been up since five, filling in forms, valuing goods and responding to a flurry of emails from our logistics company. I swear we never had this when we moved to Canada from the UK. Still, it is what it is and as Mrs S remarked, we’re still in the game and playing hard. Because moving continents is a game. A game played by at least four sides with rules changing by the minute. Especially at present, when panicking Western politicians without a clue about epidemiology are fussing with rules made to make them look as though they know what they’re doing (Clue; they don’t). Which means I’m currently ‘sleeping’ with one eye open and my keyboard to hand. Which is not very much at all.

When I put ‘sleeping’ in inverted commas, I mean napping fitfully waiting for the next curve ball to come flying at me. This morning was the threat of our first accommodation booking going AWOL on us, which would have required some very fancy footwork on my part. Three transatlantic phone calls later it was all sorted and payment accepted. Then there’s the customs people, who seem to want everything but my Grandfathers inside leg measurement to pre-clear our goods and chattels even before they’re loaded.

By nine am I’m normally done for the day, having done everything required of me. Just a couple of calls today to tidy stuff up and I’ll be finished. Except for one final form. Well, not final, I’ve still got the insurance documentation to complete, but that I can take my time over. We’ve got a month to go yet.

Mrs S has gratefully taken a back seat to all these shenanigans, happy to leave me in control. There are things to be done, money to be shuffled about but that side of things is mostly okay and all I have to do is keep on top of it, paying by due date, making sure all the necessaries are done to schedule. Despite the fact that my final paycheck from the job that recently went belly up is going to be late. Heavy sigh.

No matter, all I have to do is keep my own personal money-go-round moving and we’ll all be golden.

Until the next idiocy comes flying at me like a rabid raccoon on acid.

Okay, paid a brief visit to the mailbox of the company that just let me go. There was nothing for me to do but it was full of increasingly shrill “Where are you?” Emails. I guess someone didn’t get the memo then.

Also. I forgot. It’s a long holiday weekend! I won’t have any middle-of-the-night-must be-done stuff for three whole freakin days! What am I going to do……… ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ (Snore)


Still busy clearing house for the big move. Movers are contracted and deposits paid. Paperwork is in order (So far!) and we’re hammering out the fine details. The pieces are falling into place and I find myself on first name terms with the guys at the recycle yard. Oh yes, and a big milestone. We finished disposing of all our unwanted documents yesterday! All the pulping is done. Yay! Everything we need recorded is now in electronic format and can be accessed from backup at a whim. And I have multiple backups and a disaster recovery plan.

As someone who watches markets, I’m always on the lookout for patterns which might indicate where the money is going and what it is doing once it gets there. One of the other things you get used to doing is what the conspiracy theorists do, find coincidences which might indicate that someone in a position of power and privilege is playing fast and loose with what is not rightfully theirs and behaving in a reprehensible manner.

Like with this Covid-19 business. The actual figures indicate this ‘pandemic’ is now endemic in the population. Those who are going to die have mostly died. All else is politics. So there is no sound epidemiological reason to wear a mask any more. Although I was chatting with one of our contacts, who said that masks were like little totems, fetish items, something to hang on to when a complacent belief system is challenged. People are being terrorised by all the conflicted hyperbole out there, and so are using face masks as a statement of compliance. Even if they do look rather ridiculous wearing surgical masks whilst driving along the highway with all the windows closed.

The most interesting series of events are those surrounding the Epstein case. It is becoming more readily apparent that there really is no smoke without fire, and certain ruthless people with political power and privilege have been abusing not only their power, but also those too young to make informed sexual decisions.

Jeffrey Epstein was (is? some say his death was too convenient, perhaps even staged) a billionaire who was (so it has been widely reported) no great shakes as a Wall Street trader, but a hell of a panderer and blackmailer. Which is how he is alleged to have made his fortune. His parties were notorious events where he would attempt to ensnare the wealthy and connected in a web of sexual corruption, trading the sexual favours of under aged girls for insider information and being sold properties and securities at under market value to sell at a profit later. However, now he is ‘dead’ he is no longer available to incriminate others. No doubt a similar fate awaits Ghislaine Maxwell. Although Epstein probably kept direct knowledge of those he was blackmailing or being blackmailed by away from her, so she could be thrown to the dogs as and when needed. From what I have seen of Ms Maxwell, this has a high likelihood of being true.

Tim Pool has some interesting reportage on the continuing scandal involving the Clintons. But not Trump, despite all the media twatter squawking.

Now I think Epstein was a catspaw, someone who was used in turn as a means of securing soft power over greedy and sexually depraved people. He had a network of people indebted to him and those rich and politically powerful people who in turn he owed his continued existence and wealth to. Anyone who poses a threat to the network of the rich and politically connected perverts he served is still very much likely to be at threat to their life.

What is obvious is that the depraved rich play for keeps, as demonstrated by the recent assassination of a Federal Court Justices son and wounding of her husband after she was assigned a case related to the Epstein farrago. This killing demonstrates that the nerve of the depraved is beginning to break. The alleged gunman is dead, so supposedly cannot point to another link in the chain of evidence. If of course the real gunman did die and not some patsy.

However, with a media, large sections of whom seem determined to run interference for the depraved and politically connected, there seems no way that these high powered criminals will ever be brought to account. The very media appear ideological allies of a political Mafia, loosely affiliated crime family or political Cosa Nostra whose tendrils reach all the way into the depths of world governments and the United Nations.

It is worth noting that these are often the very same people currently telling everyone else what is moral and how to live via their networks. Forever dividing us with their talk of ‘diversity’ and endless race-baiting. Weaponising the deluded. Forever throwing up hobgoblins and bogeymen to keep the majority bamboozled and confused, ensuring they do not realise that they are being lied to. The globalists who want power for power’s sake and if a few individuals get used and abused, hey, they can be bought off, bullied to silence or in extremis disposed of.

This is what I see as the patterns emerge. Too many convergent lines where the hidden stories, like arcane monsters from the deep give notice of where and what they are with a swirl in the news cycle that arises then disappears. Then there are too many people who have been telling us not to see the evidence of our own eyes. Using our own institutions against us. Telling us that criticism of their ‘truth’ is ‘hate speech’. Well, the patterns are there and there are now too many to disavow their existence.

What happens next is going to get really interesting.

Black lives murderers?

Dear Black Lives Matter,

There are murderers in your midst. Someone who is killing innocent black (and other ethnicity) people in your name. Which in old time legal circles would mean that you, including those who give your organisation moral or financial support, are accessories to murder. And it’s no good saying “It was nothing to do with me!” because you, weak politicians and your media panderers helped create the disorder allowing these murders to be done. 30 so far in your wonderful revolution. Shot, beaten to death or burned alive by you and your Antifa allies. Think about that. Most of them ‘black’.

Thirty lives is your body count so far, and that’s only the people you have killed directly, never mind the suicides over smashed neighbourhoods and lost jobs and businesses. We may never know the full extent of the collateral damage you have caused. So I ask; was George Floyd worth it?

You talk about all the ethnic lives taken by Police as justification for such bloody acts, and of the crime of slavery in the west that was ended over a hundred and fifty years ago, but when taken in sober reality, those lives ended in Police custody were already forfeit. Not, as you claim, for their skin colour, but for the crime of stupidity. That and the crimes of disorder, of threat and endangerment to others. Of being off their faces on controlled substances like Methamphetamine which can make even the slightest figure difficult for law enforcement to control without lethal means. Of already being sick, yet using controlled substances as a prop, then coming over all surprised when the inevitable happens. What happened to George Floyd, seen in the cold light of day, was a tragedy. Albeit one of his own making.

There is nothing remotely admirable in killing over such people as Floyd, of whatever skin colour. Nothing worth raising a single decibel in protest. They let their own side down. They hurt their own communities the worst. Which is why certain neighbourhoods need the Police more than anyone else. Which is why I say that violent BLM protesters and rioters make ‘black lives’ matter less, not more. Because that is who these ‘protests’, riots by any other name, harm the most.

You, BLM, Antifa and associates will cheerfully kill your ‘own’ and anyone else who disagrees. You have made it known that this is the case, so therefore you are guilty of murder, by association and as accessories. And anyone saying that calling out of these killings constitutes a ‘hate crime’ is also complicit in that slaughter, regardless of the colour of the victims skin.

Also complicit, the media voices who cover up for you, weak politicians who direct Police not to intervene in a timely manner, celebrities who pay rioters’ bail. The weak minded ‘taking a knee’. Guilty, guilty, guilty. Murderers and accessories all. Innocent blood is on the hands of your mob and its supporters. This also means you.


Please note, even ‘milquetoast fence sitter’ US news commentator Tim Pool is outraged.

Godzilla strikes again

Going to our new destination is proving a little more of a bureaucratic process than our last move of continents. Which is only to be expected in these times.

Clueless politicians (We’re looking at you Johnson, see me after class for detention and double biology) relying on ‘experts’ who are about as much use as drips under pressure, have summoned the Godzilla of big government, trampling the UK and European economies into the ground. Crushing people’s lives and livelihoods, scaring half the population into wearing unhealthy masks when the pandemic is already over. See Tony Heller’s video below.

Oh yes, the pandemic, at least in the Western world, is over. We effectively have ‘herd immunity’. This isn’t just me spitballing. The daily figures tell us that apart from a few residual cases there has been no ‘second spike’, no ‘surge’ no huge increase of cases of Covid-19. All the propaganda from Government and the media has been not only misleading but completely wrong. Yet so many places are still in effective lockdown and mandatory masks will be in force from today in the UK.

There’s an old term I learned in my mis-spent youth from hanging out with the wrong sort. Old lags of my acquaintance used to call it (and some may still do) ‘Nick-struck’. Nowadays I believe the term is ‘institutionalised‘. Specifically where a felon has been in prison so long that they actively fear being outside in the wide world and commit crimes to be caught and returned to what they see as a safe haven in prison.

This is where far too many frightened people are at present. They need to be gently awoken from their terror and to wave the monster of big government off and shuffling back into the primordial ooze where it belongs. A process of de-institutionalisation needs to happen, where people can find social safety in smaller and more local community groups. Like having neighbours over for drinks, a barbecue or dinner. Or what are called ‘potluck’ gatherings over here in someone’s back garden, away from the prying eyes of unwelcome enforcement. In effect re-socialising. Reforming the lost or damaged social groups necessary to proper human function. A process which has to happen without government intervention.

Big government and media caused these problems with their clueless scrambling. Now they have to get out of the way to let populations heal themselves, to find their own ‘new normal’ instead of the unpleasantness that Government has forced upon them.

Much too late

Today I am beset with the joys of filling in customs and insurance forms. Movers have had their deposit and we’re waiting to see if the documents we are sending will be enough for the Customs guys.

Now I hear that certain jurisdictions, including the UK, are making the wearing of face masks mandatory in shops and stores. Which made me go ‘WTF’. This is surprising and a definite case of bolting the stable door long after the horse has wandered off, been horsenapped and turned up as prime steaks in a Belgian restaurant.

The problem with masks is that they aren’t much good if a given virus has already whistled through a population and most have now had it, which is what the actual figures tell us. The decision is much too much and far too late. Or are governments trying to prop up the mask making business? Which also makes no sense.

Even surgical and N95 masks have limited facility. As for those stylish cloth face nappies a lot of people have taken to wearing, as has been repeatedly pointed out, these are worse than useless if not washed thoroughly after every single use then kept in a sterile bag until needed.

The cloth mask, or ‘face nappy’, collects expired air with all the bacteria and viruses hosted in your sinuses and mouth then concentrates them, increasing what epidemiologists call the ‘viral load’, also increasing the amount of CO2 you breathe in and is generally less of a good idea than stuffing your face into a used babies diaper.

The stupidity of it all should amaze me, but no. Perhaps I was getting jaded. However, a small spark of good news is a reversal of cancel culture over the unjust sacking of Nick Buckley over his criticism of the Marxist led Black Lives (Don’t) Matter scourge. Over here at Chez Sticker we are told that Nick has been reinstated as CEO at Mancunian Way charity. He should never have been fired in the first place.

The trustees responsible for his unjust sacking have all resigned, a new board has been appointed and Nick is back at work from this morning. The Twatter ‘blue check mark’ hate mob have lost this one. May it be the first of many defeats for them. They have wielded far too much unearned power for too long. A little good news for once.

I’m not paranoid, but…

I do worry about ID theft. So Mrs S and I are busy destroying documents prior to our departure from Canada. It’s amazing how much paperwork you accumulate in thirteen years. Powers of attorney, copies of this, copies of that and so forth.

So much paper, particularly legal documents, have to be disposed of. So we’re doing what Embassies do when they need to get rid of documents. We pulp.

Pulp old documents you no longer need? Isn’t that a bit extreme Bill? Well yes and no. We scanned all the important stuff and will be putting less replaceable items like birth certificates, originals of legal documents such as SIN cards, Citizenship certificates and so on in our personal baggage, securely packed and labelled. A customs agent will know not to bother with these things if our baggage gets selected for search as sometimes happens. They are looking for contraband, not documents, so we’re on safe ground as close to ‘safe’ as can be done.

Yes, I know our plane could fall from the sky, and as I posted previously there is so much else to go AWOL, but honestly if things get that bad we’re all dead anyway. Then our wills kick in and that’s all taken care of except for funerals for our shattered remains, so, there you go.

So why are we pulping instead of shredding? Good question. Well, (Coughs in a faintly embarrassed manner) I managed to blow up the shredder. My bad. Our hitherto reliable shredder just gave up the ghost one morning when I was feeding paper into it’s noisy maw. A cog was stripped, smoke was coming from the motor, so that was that. Past economic repair. We thought about replacing it, but thought “Two hundred dollars for something we only need for a month or so?” and “That’s a lot of money to shred paper of limited value.” when we looked at the opition of sending it to be shredded by someone else. As for incineration, this is BC, getting a burn permit would have us besieged by the Green party and every eco whack-a-loon in the district until we ran out of money to pay lawyers.

Thus we set up a simple process. Soaking tank, pulping machine and drainage. For a tank we set up one of those heavy duty plastic boxes and filled it half way with a 5% solution of bleach and white vinegar to help the paper break down, then ripped the documents we wanted to shred into strips and threw them into the solution. Every day for the last two weeks I’ve been taking the solution soaked paper strips and chucking them in an old food processor for about sixty seconds and change to turn the wet paper into a rather disgusting looking grey porridge. Then dropping the pulp into a sieve over a bucket to drain for a few hours before dumping the damp pulp into a bin bag and our bin for disposal.

Old bank, credit cards and VPN tabs got cut up, partially burned and the bits thrown into different bin bags just to make life ultra difficult for anyone who wanted to get their hands on our account details and any written down passwords. As the job that I recently lost involved dealing with financial matters and gave me control of two corporate credit cards and a few other bits and pieces, we did a number on them so any person wishing to get hold of those details would need more resources available than the average ID thief. Bar codes, chips, mag stripes all got seared with a lighter and chopped into small, heat distorted pieces to prevent any form of reconstruction.

I suppose we could have put all these records in a box and dragged them behind us, but frankly there’s no need of them where we’re going and all the records can be accessed elsewhere. Then all the paper would be an extra cost on the moving bill and we have striven mightily to pare that down to the minimum necessary.

Yes I know it all sounds a little extreme, but I like to think of it this way; if you have just enough paranoia, you don’t get any nasty surprises.

Reading rioting and arithmetic.

While we’re downsizing and packing up, I’m minded to think about the recent riots. Terrible things. Damage to property, looting, burning buildings, pillage and rape. Certain of my distant Viking ancestors would have been right at home. And riots happen all the time. Every year. Everywhere. I particularly liked the historical snippet about the Royal Navy being brought in in 1919 to quell the Liverpool riots. See video below.

However, has anyone else noticed this? People who riot only do it in the dry. When it rains, very few riots. Too many people cooped up in the dry for too long, result = widespread riots and property values nosedive. Moderate to heavy rainfall = peaceful streets and no broken windows.

So here’s another of my modest little proposals. Whenever there’s a riot, bring out the fire hoses. Not water cannon style, but like artificial rain. Just half a dozen coppers strategically placed in each tall building with fire hoses set at wide dispersal to simulate moderate rainfall. No need to hit the violent idiots with the full blast of a fire hose, just enough of a downpour to cool down the hotheads. Result, no one gets hurt, Police or rioters. No need for snipers, riot gear or baton charges, just make sure the rioters trousers get thoroughly soaked. For it is well known that no civilian can maintain an aggressive mindset with squelching knickers.

So let these violent idiots be saturated. Take Youtube videos of Antifa falling on their arses. They’d never live it down. Humiliating the bastards would work better than all the kettling and battle tactics as currently practiced. No need for arrests either when a thorough soaking will do instead. And it would be fun to watch. Police could take special courses in pointing, suppressing smirks and making remarks like “Toilets are over there sir / madam /whatever.” before breaking out in a laugh just as the sodden wrongdoer passes out of earshot.

Of course, water cannon could be held in reserve for those breachers of the peace wearing waterproofs. On the other, ensuring that only a part of their underwear gets wet is a show stopper for most.

Maybe Police forces should not be armed with guns or tear gas, perhaps super soakers would be better for crowd control. A quick squirt of cold soapy water to the crotch will stop anyone, as it is a well documented phenomenon that soggy nethers will stop even a charging Rhinoceros. I think it is something to do with the embarrassment factor of a wet patch in the crotch, and the additional effect of damp cloth causing much chafing in the joy department.

Multiple benefits. The worst rioters get thoroughly soaked, maybe catch cold and are out of action for the rest of the season. Not to mention getting a thorough (and often much needed) wash. The streets get a sluice down, dust gets laid therefore air quality improves. It’s good for plants. Cleaner air is better for people’s well being and mood. There will be far fewer arrests so the court system isn’t so bunged up with hotheaded morons. All for the sake of a bit of water. Doesn’t even have to be nice smelling water either. Any old source will do. A local canal perhaps?

The arithmetic works well too. Soaking rioters reduces property damage, cuts down Policing costs, washes the streets and everyone gets a work out. What’s not to like?

Damn, I’m a freakin’ genius.

Selling up and out

July and the living has slowed down. Elderly friend showed a new symptom recently to go with confusion and breathlessness. Slurred speech and pain down one side which indicates a recent Hemiparesis or form of Transient Ischaemic Attack, otherwise known as a mini-stroke. We’re handing on our duties as powers of attorney to one of her nephews. The whole business has the feel of closing the book as we come to the last chapter. We know the outcome, just not the exact timescale. Five years to death from first TIA onset is the usual prognosis.

Chez maison Sticker, we’re busy selling that which we can sell. The Mutt, my motorcycle, went last weekend and I’m putting the car up for sale next week once it’s had a thorough wash and brush up for the camera. Good pictures sell, and it’s been a marvelous car. Mileage is slightly below book for the year and our model of Subaru, I’m told, is much sought after. The all wheel drive has kept us on the road in conditions from near whiteout over packed ice in BC to blazing hot forty five plus degrees Celsius crossing Death Valley with only a couple of flat tyres and brake replacements. Not bad for a ten year old car that we’ve had from new. I’ll be sorry to see it go, but Tout passe.

Then there’s all the household stuff we’re not taking with us. Some furniture, odds and ends that can easily be replaced on the other side of the water has been sold with some still to go. Electronics have mostly been disposed of because we’re migrating to a different voltage standard. No sense in taking kitchen widgets like mixers, microwaves or coffee machines that only work at 110v. They weren’t that expensive anyway.

Frankly I’m amazed at the amount of stuff we’ve gotten rid of. All the fripperies of day to day living that turn out to be pretty irrelevant. Yes they’re useful, but are easily replaceable. If you saw some of the estimates for the move that we’d been given, you’d understand why. To give anyone interested a clue, we’ve been able to reduce our moving bill from five down to four figures (Just). Moving continents is a pricey business.

Then there’s the social side, or rather lack thereof. We’ve not made much in the way of social connections, partly because neither of us are great socialisers, but also because we feel so at odds with the blinkered nature of things over here. From some perspectives it’s been like living in the Kingdom of the Lotus Eaters. Too much complacency. Too much magical thinking. Anti-prosperity attitudes are so entrenched in the politics of BC there’s no making a dent in them, so why even try? So. Time to move on. We’re done with Canada.

In the meantime my little deck garden, sadly neglected while we’ve been getting ready to up sticks, is all going to recycle. My Citrus plants, once green and thriving are now dried up and brown, the bottom of the pots sucked dry by thirsty roots that formed deep knots of tendrils groping for the last moisture at the bottom of the pot. Which makes me want to set up a self watering greenhouse when we build our new home. There will be all forms of fruit now I know how to germinate and nurture them to maturity.

Oh, by the by. Have started watching this channel on Youtube, which may disappear when some ‘moderator’ decides it’s not PC enough. This one on slavery through the ages is very interesting.

Makes intriguing watching. So far from the narrative being pushed by under educated talking heads isn’t it?

Cancelling cancel culture, a modest proposal….

For quite some time now, a cancer has been eating at the body of civil society. The cancer I refer to is that of ‘cancel culture’, where some anonymous complainants and their associated Twatter hate mob can pressure employers into firing an employee who has personal views the hate mob find objectionable. The problem is that once accused there appears to be no redress. There is no-one to sue for loss of income apart from the employers / source of revenue.

My own take on this is that if someone holds off beat views, or even objects quite reasonably to certain things, anonymous complaints are held to be evidence, which is an injustice of gargantuan proportions. No one should have that sort of power without some form of direct accountability. Either legal or fiscal.

Say if HR pulls you in and says that you’re fired because of a complaint against you pertaining to matters outside of your employment, first demand to know why, then insist upon being given details of the complaint against you, and the complainants details so that you can send your lawyers after them and sue them personally for the loss of income that they have occasioned. If the answer from HR is “It’s confidential.” Your automatic reply should be firstly “Why?” followed by “Who laid the complaint? All the names please. This is my right.” This is only fair. Your dismissal or ‘cancellation’ has now become a legal matter and is subject to the process of contract and civil law. And civil law has avenues for redress.

Only a tyrant exercises Quia sic dicit (Because I say so) as a guiding principle, and since we do not (At least superficially) live in a tyranny, there has to be some Quid pro quo (something for something). Anything less is injustice personified.

The kind of suit I allude to should be a massive business opportunity for all those ambulance chasing personal injury lawyers who should be all over this issue like fleas on a dogs back. Their marketing byline could be something like; “Anonymous complaints cost you your job or livelihood? Give us a call.” followed by a toll-free number. Could be a nice little earner.

I mention the above in a tongue in cheek manner, but this is deadly serious. Platforms who allow ‘cancel culture’ to flourish have, by their very actions, become complicit with the anonymous complainants and should therefore bear at least some of the financial consequences. By choosing to cancel some accounts and not others they cross the line between being merely a platform, a noticeboard which bears little or limited responsibility for the things posted upon it, and become publishers where they are seen to be exercising editorial control. Any platforms who enjoy the status of non-profit or charity should also lose their charitable tax status. Likewise employers who dismiss employees on the basis of anonymous complaints should bear some of the cost of punitive damages.

The anonymous complainants and the twatter hate mobs have been getting away with this shit for far too long. Payback time is long overdue.

Pass the popcorn, this might get interesting.

Addendum: The recently formed ‘Free Speech Union‘ looks useful. I wish them many successes.

Another Addendum: Patreon is in trouble. Watch Vlawgger Viva Frei’s take on the court case.

I’m currently listening to the world’s tiniest violin and chuckling darkly.

What could possibly go wrong?

Regarding our forthcoming move Mrs S vouchsafed the following this morning, “what could possibly go wrong?” I’ve got an answer for that. Oh, lots. Huge amounts. Governments clamping down on travel because they’re frightened. Someone discovering the link between the real me and this blog to try to get me arrested for some sort of historical ‘Hate speech’. Rioters could try and prevent us leaving, the ship carrying our belongings could sink. We might not be able to get a reasonable rental in time. We might get put in quarantine and a giant purple people eater might gobble up the solar system. Or a world war might break out, or, or a big, planet killing meteorite could hit our plane while in flight…. and, and, and…..

There comes a point of risk which you can plan for past which there is no planning. We have three, no sorry, four insurance policies covering credit cards, travel insurance including trip cancellation / disruption, emergency medical care and all points south with the usual act of god exemptions, in which case we’re all bloody well dead anyway. We also have a reserve of cash and investments to tide us over in case of trouble. We have credit cards, travel documents and passports. All else I leave to the whims of an erratic world and my own skill at bluffing my way past obstacles.

Meetings have been had with brokers and lawyers to smooth our path and if that is not enough then nothing will be. My metaphorical ducks, such as they are, are standing in neat rows awaiting each ticked box. I’m not saying that it isn’t stressful, but it’s also an exercise in applied patience. Especially when every western politician under the sun appears afraid of their own shadow even though the worst of this pandemic is long past.

To tell you the truth all this panicky hand waving has me wanting to make sheep noises at anyone wearing a mask. At this point of the season, fabric masks not regularly sterilised or changed at least once every six hours become a health hazard and sink of respiratory infections far greater than the original virus. If you aren’t coughing and spluttering then you don’t need a mask.

Cloth masks are as much use as a chocolate teapot at preventing the spread of infection. Primarily because they only reduce the radius of infection but aren’t much good at stopping fine particulates.

Besides, if most people actually thought about the host of bacteria, funghi and viruses their upper respiratory tract and sinuses are ordinarily host to, they’d want to rip that cloth mask off their face and never wear one ever again. Because that’s what those cloth masks keep in and concentrate. The ordinary microbiota of the sinuses and upper respiratory tract. Cloth masks can rapidly become like shoving ones nose into a petri dish in fairly short order. Unless the cloth masks are regularly sterilised (or put through a hot wash cycle between uses). They were only ever meant for an any port-in-a-storm get-you-home one off use, not as regular day wear.

I’m just keeping my head down and plodding ever onwards. You’ll know where I am from the heavy sighs emanating from me as I encounter the massed ranks of ill-informed idiocy. Lawks.

Confirming my bias

What second wave? Protests have not led to massive increases in Covid-19 cases. It’s bollocks. Complete and utter bollocks. Just as anyone with more than two active brain cells to rub together will understand. The time for masks and lockdowns has passed. It passed in the second week of April. We are well past peak infection and despite raised testing numbers, cases are declining by the day.

I ask again; what second freaking wave all you brain dead mask wearing doomsayers? There may be a small blip in care home fatalities as places open up, but the rest of the population have brushed Covid-19 off like an errant fly. According to the more reputable figures, only 20% of the population have shown symptoms past a sniffle. It’s over.

The case to answer is for politicians who ordered convalescing patients into care home facilities, thus effectively murdering thousands. Yes, murdering. That and through bad advice and panic western politicians have wiped out whole swathes of the global economy for no good cause.

Back at Chez Sticker, the place is starting to echo a bit as we downsize ready for the big move in September. We’re offering moral support to the kids as best we can over the jolly old Interweb, and watching with interest as another Maxwell sinks without trace. Anyone taking bets on an early suicide?

Our own clock is ticking down and we’re just biting our lips and hoping the politicians don’t go and do anything silly to royally screw us over. I’m watching share values and will be cashing up a five figure sum to keep us solvent over the next year, Things may get a little dodgy for a while, but we console ourselves that we won’t be in China.

God really is taking it out on the Middle Kingdom isn’t he? All those shonky buildings falling into the Yangtze with the Three Gorges Dam looking ever more like it will break and send a tsunami of debris and silt laden water all the way down over Wuhan and Shanghai. With yet more rain prophesied. The Yuan is looking ever more dodgy by the day and I’m hoping that none of my investments in that region are over-exposed to the Chinese market. Trump doesn’t have to life a finger. Between economic collapse and ecological disaster, the mainland Chinese look like they need to evolve webbed feet pronto. See video below.

I’m also told that according to a new Chinese security law it is now illegal to criticize the Chinese Communist Party, anywhere, no matter what nationality you are. Good luck with that, the CCP forces have just caught a spanking from India, and the Russians aren’t too chuffed with them either. The whole edifice is incompatible with the rest of the moderately civilized world and looks like it’s in for a mighty fall. They’re panicking too, thinking that main force is enough to keep the current regime in place. It isn’t. They haven’t managed it in Hong Kong and they’ll soon have their hands too full to cope.

I will watch their fate develop with interest. Yes I’m biased, but it looks like my biases will be confirmed.

A little amusement

Went to the dentist today for a quick scrape and shine of the old Herkos Odonton (Lit; hedge of teeth, meaning discreet or top secret) and Mrs S and I put on our masks to enter the Dentists office, which struck me as incongruous. Mrs S made a crack about wearing masks to go to the bank to make a withdrawal and the comedy jukebox in my head dredged this Peter Cook written sketch out of long term memory…..

“Hold up your sticks and gimme the money!” Classic.

Modern comedy seems crass and tired in comparison.

What the hell?

One of my income streams has just gone belly up. It wasn’t a big one and I had an inkling it was coming so it’s no big deal, just a minor irritation. What made me go into ‘WTF!’ mode was the way in which it was done. “Hey, we want to talk about your contract…” then to be told there was no new contract. Oh well, what the hell, those people were insufferable anyway and deserve the fate that is coming their way next year when their funding is cut completely. At the end of the bad news delivery I was asked to “Have a nice day.” The irony was not lost on me, but I didn’t much feel like laughing.

From my perspective, that income stream had become uneconomical, often taking up way more time than I was being paid for without a bye, leave or thank you. You know the saying, “If you want something doing, give it to a busy man”? Well I was the busy man who kept finding more and more of his day being eaten up without being paid any extra money for more work. So, no great loss. I need the time for another major project anyway. More news about that later in August.

In the interim I’m looking at my share portfolio and am seriously thinking about cashing up. This prolonged lockdown has hit market confidence badly, leaving me thinking that any market bounceback that could have occurred won’t happen. This isn’t to say that some of our investments haven’t made money, just that others have made larger losses. So financially speaking we’re back to square one. As I’ve said before, this whole lockdown business has been badly mismanaged and the economic fallout looming just over the horizon ain’t gonna be fun for a lot of people. The ‘cure’ is going to be much worse than the disease.

The major problem with pandemics is infectivity. A pathogen (Virus, bacterium etc) can only thrive in conditions where it is freely transmissible and a lot of potential hosts are tightly grouped together in unsanitary conditions. Say a block of flats or apartments in the low rent sector, or where the standard of cleanliness is less than reasonable. Or like in facilities where the inmates don’t or can’t observe such rigorous hygiene standards, such as in cheaper care homes or prisons. On the other hand, in single family homes and out in the ‘burbs, the rate of spread slows to a complete halt.

This is why China has had multiple reinfections, housing is mostly cramped and unsanitary compared to Western standards and keeping housing clean enough to eliminate any pools of infections becomes nigh on impossible. Masks won’t help at this stage either, because as has been noted, the closer you are to high concentrations of infectious material, the greater the likelihood of rapid spread. Masks can only reduce the radius of infection. Oh, and stay out of air conditioned buildings if you can. I worked for an air conditioning company for a couple of years and learned about what happens if the maintenance schedules are not rigorously applied or the cooling coil drains get blocked or iced up.

Remember the fuss over Legionnaires Disease? Trust me. The great outdoors is far safer. Bugs like droplets to ride on.

Which makes me wonder at the advice to shut down outdoor facilities like the garden of a pub. We were at a Tim Hortons the other day and they’d shut down the outdoor seating so everyone had to either sit in their cars and drink their coffee, or do so in the epidemiologically speaking far more dangerous environment of the coffee bar.

There’s so much counter intuitive information going around that it’s a wonder people are still venturing outdoors. Although some aren’t. Poor darlings have been terrorised by all the scaremongering being trotted out in the mainstream and all the sensational clickbait headlines. What no-one seems to be saying is that the worst is past.

Likewise, the time for masks has passed, and the only halfway safe ones were the disposable surgical type, as those might not have stopped every bug, but reduced the radius of infection, and being disposable after each use, don’t act as a reservoir of infection like the worthless but rather stylish non-disposables I see so many sporting. First these home made things need boil washing or thoroughly nuking in a microwave after every single use. Second, cloth masks are way more porous than a surgical or N95 mask and thus stop less infectious material. An N95, as Ripper will no doubt remind me, is better at stopping infected droplets than a surgical mask, but still has to be disposed of after each use. These cloth things are better than nothing, but often more use in an armed robbery than against the spread of a virus.

However, from our perspective, no matter what happens the Sticker household is going to be okay. Not rich, but well off enough to put our money into building a decent house and keeping the bills paid with a little aside for travel.

The plan is this; Mrs S watches the finances and I go do. We consult, pay for land, planning and architects. Then when we’ve got all our ducks in a row, I go do some of the low level work, building, logistics, labouring, ring mains, lighting, a little plumbing and non-specialist decorating. Oh yes, and the day to day project management of telling suppliers that if they don’t deliver on time they won’t get paid on time either. Her job is to watch the budgets while I get to do the old walk and talk, set up accounts, negotiate discounts and delivery schedules etc. Which is part of what I did for the people who just dispensed with my services.

Round and round we go, but the pace rarely lets up.

Update: This article in the Times makes for interesting reading and confirms much of what I understood to be true about the origins of the embuggerance known as SARS-Covid19. Yes, it is very likely that the original virus came from bats, but the Covid-19 variant is highly probably derivative from the original found in bat faeces at a copper mining site. It’s a lab grown variant which was accidentally released into the wild. The seven year timeline sounds about right, too. A good piece of work.