When specialists and qualified GP’s question ‘the science’ you know that something is definitely up with these mRNA ‘vaccines’. Any other medication would have been pulled from the market before now.
The evidence is overwhelming, and rolling them out to under fives is not only probably harmful, but unethical and possibly criminal. The real science is shouting this to the rooftops even whilst the modelling continues to deny there is anything wrong.
As I’ve said before; models are not proper science. Only an ignorant politician or unscrupulous drug company and their proxies would conflate empirical evidence with the output of incomplete and incoherent spaghetti code.
Well, it’s the smallest time of the year coming our way, from Solstice to 6th January. Here at the ranch we’ve just finished final clean up for guests before they arrive, and Mrs S has banned me from the bathroom I’ve just finished, and one of the spare bedrooms we don’t usually use.
So, while the rest of the world wants to go to hell in a handbasket, I’ve finally picked up my Stratocaster copy and am relearning chord changes. Give me a week or so and I might be able to manage a reasonable three chord thrash again, or maybe even pick out something more tuneful.
The rest of the property is in shutdown for the next two weeks of the midwinter festival. And whilst it is uppermost in my mind, whatever you celebrate, be it Christmas / Mithrastide, Solstice, Hannuakh or good old Saturnalia, I’d like to wish you the following; Have a really great happy whatever….
I mean it. Enjoy this seasonal time out. Not because you belong to any religious faction, because they come and go like the wind and tides. Likewise politics, but because in this era of perceived ‘hate’ I have a few thoughts I’d like to share.
It strikes me that as a society, in our pursuit of things we’ve lost something precious. Because of rapid demographic changes at the behest of the managerial state we have become estranged from those we are kin to. The managerial state, like an employer, owes no fealty or fellowship to the populace it tries to govern, having only an economic focus, which, despite all intentions to the contrary, it often gets completely wrong. Likewise in the corporate sphere. Increasingly they just don’t get people.
It is instinctive for most humans (Even a grumpy old cuss like me) seek fellowship amongst those most like ourselves. This is why we naturally form groups around activities or hobbies. Sports clubs are a prime example. Neighbourhood activities another. Churches, Temples etc. Work associations and other such relationships fulfil an instintive need for direct human contact. These institutions and associations form a slow social osmosis that creates communities. Because human communities are not formal entities, they are completely informal. A sense of community and fellowship that cannot be imposed from on high because it must always be a direct voluntary negotiation. You can’t force people to like each other or not like each other, (addendum) well, at least if you don’t strip them of their humanity and natural volition first.
Therefore, a managerial state, driven by external agendas cannot really serve the communities it seeks to hold sway over because it does not, cannot love or have fellowship with those it tries to manage. This can be demonstrated because over the last few years the managerial state, surfing a wave of unfulfillable promises, has pointedly not made life better. Indeed, our societies are more fragmented than ever because these ‘managers’ have, for their own self-involved reasons, decided that only they know best and are currently taking us down one of the many roads to hell. Something which some of us complain mightily about, others shrug resignedly, and some follow blindly.
By ‘managers’ I mean those who try to force their will and agendas upon the ordinary person. People like state functionaries, various foundations and NGO’s, using their power and influence to increase their wealth without care for the people they wish to govern.
People like the WEF and their professional political puppets do not love us. To them we are just things, items on a spreadsheet, disposable assets with a finite lifespan. Theirs is a very autistic, two dimensional, view of the world.
Yet there is a saying “The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley.” I say the plans of these would be rulers will fail, because it can be seen that the tighter the reins of control, the greater some will struggle to free themselves by cheating and bucking the system.
To put it in the words of one of my neighbours; “Don’t worry Bill, there’s always ways and means.” And I think he was right. So long as there are chinks in the armour, holes in the system, there will always be gaps through which free agents can slip. Under the wire. Around the corner, breaking the mould before slipping through the shadows and disappearing into the wild blue yonder.
We can do this by the simple means of a kind word in the right place, the occasional display of unforced generosity and gratitude. A quiet smile and talking to people in real life. Try it sometime. Even if they’re being an arse. All you have to do is show them the error of their ways by asking good humoured questions like; “You really believe that?” Then wishing them a happy whatever and walking away.
Works for me. Have a great festive season because we should “Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we certainly die.” But then of course, we might not. Die, that is. And there’s a happy thought.
Spent most of my weekend blocking possible mouse and rat runs in the house, and in the process did some fairly good quality wood butchery. All I have to do now is get some of those little collars for the radiator pipes to close off all possible means of egress. But it’s astonishing how small a hole the little sods can get through. Anything over six millimetres seems is enough to provide them with an entryway. So I’m told.
Which was a bit of a revelation for me. When I started my working life, one of my jobs was at a food processing company, for which I had to do a pest control course, lasting all of an afternoon, and the received wisdom was that mice treated any gap of twenty mil or more as a dual carriageway. But six millimetres?
That’s the problem with any old build house, there’s always a tiny hole the little buggers can get through. All you can do is seal and fill and eventually the outdoors stays where it belongs. Outdoors.
On the topic of revelations; Hallelujah brothers and sisters, are you saved?!? Well Jesus (So we’re told – but he’s not really into football) might save, but damn few others can in these straitened economic times. Revelations though, seem to be everywhere if people would only give them a sidelong glance. Rather than waste time watching the mainstream media, who only seem to regurgitate propaganda, or be wise after the fact.
I was reading the pages of the Daily Sceptic this morning and came across the little gem that the ‘evidence against the lab leak theory’ was pretty flimsy. Have a look at the link below.
In my own thoughts from as early as May 2020, I did a ‘probability bingo‘ exercise, listing what information was public domain, and concluded that yes, the facts and available evidence seemed to indicate that the SARS/COV-2 pandemic originated in that Wuhan lab. Didn’t know about the NIH funded ‘gain of function’ research at the time, which is now confirmed, but what I was sure about were the reports of poor containment protocols at that lab and reports from Chinese media sources bragging about the research on finding a cure for a bat-borne virus which had rendered a copper mine too dangerous to use. My conclusion was that the available facts lined up, so yes, it was highly probable that the virus had leaked out of the lab, whether by accident or design.
What isn’t a ‘conspiracy theory’ is that the legacy of massive inflation and economic damage is all due to lockdowns. When all the dust settles in a few years we will have it laid out that all the lockdowns, masks and mRNA vaccines did more harm than good. That is no revelation at all.
The trades are back, finishing up the work we’ve asked them to do. It’s the painters turn at the moment and the house is thick with paint fumes despite all the windows open, I’m busy fussing over small jobs while the weather is cutting up rough, and Mrs S is busy rearranging things and choosing rugs and blinds.
While my kitchen and downstairs are more or less out of bounds, I’m doing a little planning for a UK road trip sometime in early 2023. Just a few scenic places in the UK I haven’t been or just whooshed through. Plenty of one or two night stopovers in the South and up through the Midlands to western Scotland, meandering up and around the roads less travelled. Maybe family visits if anyone is still talking to me.
I’m thinking of maybe the Swindon end of the Ridgeway first and work my way East and North into the Fenlands, back West, then North and East again, then back across the Pennines and North to the western Isles and back into Norn Island thence braving the storms of Donegal and home again.
At this point it’s just a speculative exercise. We may just decide to amble down to the Med via la belle France instead, pausing to pick daisies as we go. Meandering along Plane tree shaded N and D routes, using our creaky French, sampling the local wines and foods, and letting the locals practice their equally creaky English on us. Just an off-season jaunt before the business of the growing year gets underway in March, and I need to get planting.
That reminds me, my UK passport needs renewal, even though my other passports are valid. One of the things about being an Expat, you tend to acquire passports and citizenships in your travels. They all need renewing and perhaps cancelling as circumstance dictates. It’s also quite useful, because you don’t need to fuss around with visa’s quite so much. One passport will get you in easily to one country while another might not be so welcomed. So, you choose whichever passport gets you into the fast lane through passport control. It’s just a convenience.
Talking of the future, despite all the hand waving, I am forming the opinion that the world is not ending. The pound is in the process of bouncing back against the Euro and Dollar. All right, the Canadian Dollar is in a nosedive, but we’ve pretty much sold all that we’re going to sell of anything over there for the moment. When Canadians finally vote out the idiot liberals and that shithead Trudeau, maybe their lives will improve.
Any old road up, despite the provocation of having their pipelines blown up, I think the Russki’s are too smart to throw all their nuclear toys out of the pram, despite what the lamestream say. The Russians are smart enough to know disrupting their gas supply will drive a wedge through NATO and take the Western pressure off, so we can all stop worrying about the last big boom. Unless the Biden administration stage something. I wouldn’t put it past them right at this moment. Because a lot of what this administration are up to is all shadows and market manipulation. For a wider discussion, Redacted has an interesting take on the current situation.
Anything else? Locally the price of Diesel is still way too high at around 1.8+ euros a litre and Unleaded just a little below. This is despite crude oil dropping to below USD$80 a barrel recently, which is a more usual price.
Which, knowing what I do about markets, makes me think that all this ‘Net Zero’ rhetoric is political nonsense designed to enrich politicians and speculators of a certain stripe. Nothing to do with “Saving the planet” because all these shifty types don’t “Own the science” because no one can ‘own’ scientific knowledge. You can either prove a proposition empirically or you can’t. The only ‘proofs’ I’ve seen come from rather dodgy mathematical modelling. Therefore the only possible ‘science’ in ‘Net Zero’ is financial and political. In short, ripping off the general population to benefit those who don’t need any more.
No wonder those in power don’t want opposing views to be heard.
Went to the movies on Monday. Overall I’d describe it as a bittersweet experience. Apart from the still-bizarre experience of having to prove one has had the double jab to go see a film in a deserted (Apart from Mrs S and I) auditorium. The popcorn machine was down too.
Now I grew up watching Bond movies, from the dire (Woody Allen’s Casino Royale) from Sean Connery in Dr No and Roger Moore through George Lazenby, Pierce Brosnan and Timothy Dalton to the latest and (I think) best Bond, Daniel Craig.
If you go to see No time to Die you will note there’s a strong connection with the Lazenby film, from the premise (Megalomaniacal nutcase intent on poisoning the world) to some of the sound track, featuring good old Satchmo himself, Louis Armstrong. The poison garden idea is a direct steal from Fleming’s book (But not the movie) ‘You only live twice’ but overall I found it a good, well put together movie, well paced and entertaining. One for the video collection. I’ll happily watch it several times. Your 167 minutes will not feel like a waste of time or money.
The introduction of a black female 007, which some have taken as a tokenistic affront to the franchise, I consider a mere bagatelle. The actress concerned, Lashana Lynch, put in a workmanlike performance but was always going to be overshadowed.
Is it a good movie? All I’ll tell you is this; I left the movie theatre with a profound sense of sadness. Do I regret going to see it? Definitely not. Would I recommend it? Oh yes. From my point of view I’d give it two thumbs up. However, it is the last of a venerable line of action thrillers.
Even before entering the theatre I knew this movie was going to be a franchise killer. The last ever Bond movie, which incidentally, goes out with a serious bang, but apart from that I’m not giving anything away. You’ll have to watch it to find out the ending. No spoilers here.
I have the sense that I’ve just witnessed the end of an era.
This time from over a decade ago. The more time passes, the less evidence I have to alter my outlook. See updated text below;
In 2007 I posted about the old fashioned fun we used to have at Halloween when I was growing lad, and how it wasn’t all about ‘Trick or treat’. I posted a similar view (Although much shorter) in response to one of the ‘your view’ commenters on the Daily Telegraph website. The thread is likely long down the memory hole of digital doom behind a paywall.
One person took my mild mannered remarks seriously amiss and tore into me personally because they claimed their Mother had been ‘Terrorised’ by some unsupervised ‘Trick or treat’ teenagers. In his / her own words;
“You (and these scumbags) can keep your ‘sense of fun’.”
Which really says it all about the attitude of many in England. No doubt the poor Mother in question was alone at the time. She was so alone and afraid that a bunch of children in fancy dress knocking on her door and demanding sweets could traumatise her so. Yet instead of taking the trouble to help remedy said Mothers solitude and alienation, said person took umbrage against the whole festival and anyone who enjoyed anything about it Saying so in the most vituperative fashion.
Maybe it’s just me. I’m just so used to dealing with strangers and new situations that I’ve lost the conception of what it is to be isolated and scared of the world. To feel so alone all you want to do is hide. For my part, I go out and meet the world and am used to talking to anyone. Three years on the streets showed me that it wasn’t that difficult. All it takes is a little old fashioned common humanity and a little guts. My own Mother taught me that. She had a busier social life than I ever did.
This is the malaise that haunts my native country. The fear, too often reinforced by a sensationalising media that one cannot walk the streets in peace (Despite the stats saying that outside of the major conurbations you are safer than ever before). The fear that you will be unjustly penalised for defending yourself, or murdered if you do. The fear promoted by a State and media which daily sap personal responsibility from the lives of everyone, driven by vociferous cowards among us, and then cannot deliver the safety it promises to the very people it should really be protecting (And I don’t mean Politicians).
Out here in the wilder west of Ireland I have rediscovered that sense of belonging that I rarely felt living in England. I have found it within every cheery “Howareya”, where people are genuinely relaxed about who you are and where you’ve been. They even retain the old Celtic names for festivals such as Samhain (Halloween), Beltane (May 1st) and Lammas (Loaf Mass, 1st August). This list is not comprehensive, but it will serve as a rough guide.
As for the UK, I really should give up on people who have given up so much themselves. They can’t have any fun at all. Maybe once all this COVID panic has died down, and people accept that man made global warming is no more than a trick of statistics, they can get in touch with their older, and some would say better selves.
So everyone is baling out of Afghanistan. Well not before time. The West has wasted enough blood and treasure on that bleeding piece of Earth. Let the Chinese move in and waste theirs.
I’ve been involved in a YouTube comments spat about whether the Chinese will succeed. Yes the Chinese have a lot of troops and weapons, but so did the Soviet era Russians, and look what happened to them. Ten wasted years. 1989 anybody? Don’t take my word, read what the then Soviet leader, Mikhail Gorbachev, has to say on the matter.
Let’s face it; as far as the UK is concerned, Afghanistan was another one of Tony Blairs vanity wars. I’ve read various reports and I’m still baffled as to why the Western powers bothered to invade. Maybe the reports of rich mineral deposits blinded them to the long history of other failed occupations.
The Taliban just sauntered into Kabul like they’d never left and laughed in everyone’s face. Which makes me wonder if maybe they are the true face of the Afghan people. I think they always have been. From before the Mughal and later the British Empire, then all the failed modernisations by their own monarchs. They keep reverting to type. Trump was right to talk to the Taliban and stop wasting the lives of western troops.
Here’s a thought. Maybe we should just let the Afghans be until a new generation comes along and gently eases the country out of the 14th century? Until then, leave them be to subsistence agriculture and poverty. If that is what they want. Buy their opium for the pharmaceutical trade and turn a blind eye to the rest. Or let the Chinese buy it for their own abuse.
As for the Chinese ‘moving in’, I say let them and watch them come a cropper. Has no-one else heard of a Pyrrhic victory?
Just having a scroll down the Scriblerus blog list and note that a few went offline. James Higham, arguably the Godfather of the group has retreated to Blogspot, as has Orphans of Liberty. Scribblings from Seaham is completely AWOL. Demetrius at Cynical Tendency hasn’t posted in well over a year, likewise Tim Newman. Raedwald died. Our original number shrinks. Some lost interest, others simply drifted away like ghostly ships, vanishing over the horizon.
Links have been updated to new sites where available.
Thus it is that merciless time catches up with all of us. Orphans and Nourishing Obscurity disappeared because their web admin, Chuckles, died. Which is sad, but then all human life is finite. We all die. So that should be a spur to engage with life, before it inevitably ends. To do less is to have merely existed.
That said, a lot of the old long form bloggers have been carrying on the verbal fight for freedom of expression more intermittently, or on other platforms, so I’ve left their links untouched. The diehards amongst us will hopefully keep on posting because it’s become too much a component of our lives. Perhaps driven by bloody minded habit or the thought that if no-one speaks up against the darkness, the voiceless will be led mute down into eternal dystopias, stripped of hope and berated into subservience.
The mainstream press, with few salient exceptions, won’t help. They’re too much a part of the machine. Few modern politicians will for the self same reason, and if no-one speaks to oppose the erosion of basic human freedoms, that minority who might stand up, won’t. It’s also worth noting that great ideas like human liberty, cannot be killed, but they can die of neglect. So we must not be neglectful, no matter the temptation. We must light our own candles, no matter how small, or let the night take us all.
We’re not the only ones. Listen to this Talk Radio talk with Neil Oliver. This blog does not believe that there is ‘no point’. The only time that happens is when you give up on living, and that is a perniciously dangerous idea.
Thus dear reader, you can be assured that this blogs febrile and occasionally satirical ravings will continue, even if I’m just shouting into my own little bucket. Okay, which one of you smartarses shouted “Shame”? Go to the top of the class and then do us all a big favour by jumping off.
Saw this on Pinterest today and it made perfect sense. These gross interferences in our human rights that Government is responsible for in the name of some perverse form of ‘safety’ fit the bill. COVID-19 / SARS/COV-2 is a dead horse. Not a ‘conspiracy theory’ but simple common sense.
Dr Mike Yeadon, ex head of Pfizer R & D surmises that the pandemic has been over for months because most of the population is now immune. The pandemic is over, as is the emergency. A simple test using the law of diminishing returns means this logically has to be the case. The disease has already done it’s worst with the vulnerable population.
Yet still various governments are talking about cancelling Christmas. I say to the politicians, put your hands up, admit it’s been a major over reaction and lift the restrictions. You will be forgiven if you are honest. However, that window is rapidly closing. Time to ‘fess up and play fair boys. All the talk of mandatory vaccinations is not a good idea as the worst has been past for ages. The pandemic is fizzling out as they all do. It’s running out of people to infect.
Small aside; in the grocery store around lunchtime I turned around to see a tall girl in her early 20’s standing waiting for her turn with the cashier. She was terrified. The look in the poor girls eyes was of full on rabbit in the headlight paralysing fear. Now I’m not that scary looking a person, and I don’t think her expression had anything to do with me. However, she was almost paralysed with fright, twitching at every little thing or if anyone came within six feet. As I left the store, I found myself wondering if she would be one of the first in line for vaccination and if the vaccine is not as safe as claimed, run the risk of health damaging side effects. For one so young at the very start of her adult life, that would be an unnecessary tragedy. Even so, the fear being pumped out at the vulnerable will have repercussions for years, not merely economically, but socially and emotionally, scarring a whole generation.
Quick statement of interest here; I normally have no problems with vaccinations. I’ve had the set, from TB, MMR, Polio, Diptheria and half a dozen others. And if I’m off anywhere where some nasty bug is endemic, normally roll my sleeve up with a grin. With one particular exception; Influenza. Historically on the three occasions I’ve actually submitted myself to a flu jab, I’ve always been ill for three or four days forty eight hours afterwards, so nowadays I tend to ignore all the wheedling from GP’s and Pharmacists to bare my arm. If forced to, I’ll take a discreet place at the extreme rear of the queue and go “Oh dear, what a shame. You’ve run out of vaccine? Well I’ll be off then. No need to fuss, you did your best. Byee…” And wait for the ones before me in the queue to fall over, or not, as the case may be. If experience teaches you that something is likely to make you ill, doesn’t it make sense to avoid it?
I’d also like to introduce anyone passing who reads this far down my febrile drivel to the ten commandments of logic. Always a handy list to have lying around. Just as a reminder for when the levels of media and political bullshit rise above waist level, like now.
Update: Interesting reports coming out of Milan, Italy. Apparently patients in a lung cancer trial were found to test positive for SARS/COV-2 as early as September 2019. Now Mrs S and I suffered from a very strange bout of an influenza type illness I called ‘The London Cough‘ in November 2019. If the bug was active in Milan, in September 2019, it is not a massive conclusion jump to conclude that we may have already been infected and recovered. If this is true we’re already immune to the bug, not likely to catch it or pass it on and therefore do not need to self-isolate, or wear a mask. We are safe from the world, and the world is safe from us. Isn’t that nice?
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.
Mrs S and I went out to get a small treat today from a Tim Hortons drive through. Also to have a general chin wag and to set the world to rights as we often do. Something she said touched off a memory flashback which took me all the way to a rainy UK midlands industrial estate in 1986.
That day I was outside, bareheaded in the rain with water trickling past the collar of my sodden heavy wool coat, doing the job the new foreman had sent me out to do. This new foreman hated my guts for some reason. No idea why, some people are naturally ill disposed to others and there seemed no obvious rhyme or reason to it. My previous boss had been booted upstairs for being too efficient and we were stuck with a new ignoramus who did all the petty things low level managers are not supposed to do, like play favourites and take out his frustrations on his most junior subordinates. Of whom I was one. We got all the shit jobs. Me because I was (and remain) reasonably well spoken and modestly educated, traits which will always get you into trouble with a certain sort. This particular task was something he’d given me because my face offended, so outside I was sent. I think I was checking serial numbers or something, sorting out gear in the yard for bringing inside the workshop later. It’s not important now.
I heard that specific foreman died of a heart attack in the early 90’s. Don’t ask me to be sorry about that because I’m not. He was a very unpleasant man.
On that afternoon the air tasted of something like burning tin, but I thought nothing of it at first since there was a flame cutting shop over the way and we used cutting discs and plasma cutters a lot, so I was used to that kind of smell. But you get to know the taste in your mouth when hot metal is being cut. After a while you can tell which material is being cut and what it’s being cut with, be it copper, steel, or aluminium by flame / laser or plasma cutter. They’re like power chords in a heavy metal number, brash but distinctive. Once you know what they are, some of that gets hard coded into your senses and it never leaves you.
This was different. It was akin to the harsh stink of galvanised steel being cut with a flame cutter, but not quite. I remember sniffing and glancing curiously at the workshop over the road where the guys were busy setting up a jig for a new contract. Their cutting gear was cold so it couldn’t be them. So I sniffed again, then licked rain off my top lip and spat it out. The smell was in the downpour.
I remember looking up at leaden clouds, which seemed to have an odd yellowish tinge to them. The sun, where its shape shone through, was a parody of a badly poached egg. The rain felt heavy, the kind of steady, solid English downpour that soaks you to the skin no matter what you wear. At the time I couldn’t get any more miserable than I was and I’d catch hell if I didn’t complete the task, regardless of the weather. And it wasn’t until watching the news at ten that evening that I realised what I’d seen that afternoon was probably the radioactive fallout cloud from Chernobyl passing overhead.
Just over seven years later I was under the knife, having a growth in a lung removed. Took me six months to recover. I used to wonder if that was because I’d breathed in something nasty on that afternoon in 1986.
Doesn’t matter. Shit happens and we have to adapt.
What really struck me this afternoon, and it’s been going around in my head ever since, is this one thought;
This is Communist China’s Chernobyl moment.
Never mind anything Trump or Johnson are doing in response to this event, that’s irrelevant. A chain has been set in motion and the world is changing before our very eyes. This is fall of empires stuff where not quite all the major players die at the end. Governments will fall. Two empires will collapse. I’d tell you whose heads I expect to tumble, but that would spoil the surprise. Although I’m sure my one remaining reader can hazard some reasonable guesses.
I believe the regional economic fallout will last as long as the ban on Welsh and Cumbrian Lamb after Chernobyl. Perhaps much, much longer.
Now that’s a very sobering thought and I now need a very large whiskey to counter it.
This is a general post about the need for personal hygiene. Wash your hands. Properly. Keep your hands to yourself as well. I mean it.
The Covid19 virus outbreak is now a global pandemic in all but name and we should try not to further the spread. Official current status here.
Covid19 is a nasty bug, it is worse than its sister coronoviruses, which are responsible for the common cold and a variety of other influenzas, but it’s not the black death. The death rate is much higher than common Influenza and will speed the demise of those who are already chronically ill with heart disease, diabetes etc. However, and this is a big however, it is not as bad as some might have you think. In it’s worst form it will hit the hygienically careless individual like a sledgehammer, but there are ways of limiting the spread. As any fule should kno, when even medical staff are dying of it, you can bet your ickle pink bootees that it’s a bad ‘un. So, best to avoid catching it in the first place.
That established, what do we do to minimise the spread? To do this, first you have to understand the major modes of transmission.
Droplet;
Ah yes, the old ‘coughs and sneezes spread diseases’ meme. If you’re going to sneeze, cover your mouth and nose with a tissue or you will spread whatever lurgi you have, and even some you don’t know you have at around thirty five metres per second (Yikes! Just under 80mph). In the case of flu or a cold, the video below will fill in a few fun facts.
In the case of Covid19, that specific nasty little bug has demonstrated a two week window(!) in which simply touching a contaminated surface will likely spread the infection. Even after that, it might be a good idea to give the surface a quick (but thorough) wipe with a concentrated bleach solution or a good hard dose of UV radiation. Or both.
Interpersonal;
Hugs and kisses are a great way of passing on any given micro-organism. Diseases of all types agree that this is the easiest way to get around in their daily commute between hosts. Even simply shaking hands is an avenue of possible infection if one or the other party has been a little careless with their personal handwashing. So if like me, you aren’t a hugger to start with, this is a brilliant excuse to politely fend off those who seem to like doing limpet impersonations with every single social interaction. Might also be a good idea to go for a vigorous stroll instead of relying on public transport for one’s daily commute. If at all practicable.
Faecal;
This is one most people do not even think they are doing and why it is important to wash your hands properly after they have been anywhere near your toilet bits. See below for an approved method. Learn it.
This is because Covid19 can be transmitted via faecal matter. It should be noted that those from cultures who wash their toilet parts with only water and their left hand are especially prone to spreading the disease via this route, especially if washing hands after a visit to the smallest room is a bit rushed. Better still not to let your digits anywhere near those areas unless they are going to get at least a sixty second antiseptic scrub afterwards. Iran being a case in point. Their infection / death rates are much higher than the norm for this bug and they have no one to blame but themselves.
Sexual;
Covid19 is a tenacious little bugger, and appears to be able to spread via the exchange of bodily fluids, especially if the bits involved have not been washed properly prior to getting down and dirty, so to speak. Think of it like popping a breath mint before getting up close and personal. A courtesy. Besides, it’s a gesture of respect, showing you care about your chosen bedmate by ensuring your pleasure parts are all bright and sparkly.
To conclude;
Decent personal hygiene, such as frequent and thorough washing of hands will reduce the risk of contracting and passing on this nasty bug, thus a reduced risk of premature clog popping, which any sensible individual will want to avoid. Covering your mouth and nose with a tissue when coughing or sneezing likewise. No need for mask or gloves, you’re not in operating theatre, just small sensible precautions may help save you from a possible very nasty bout of illness.
Let’s all be careful out there.
This has been a public service announcement.
Update:
You know the old piece of folk wisdom about the best treatment for colds and flu being fresh fruit, fresh air and moderate exercise? Well, all of these assist with vitamin D conversion in the body. A brisk early morning stroll and a modest dose of cod liver oil or vitamin D supplement could reduce your suffering, should you be unfortunate enough to contract even a seasonal cold or flu, never mind Covid19, by over half. See the video below for dosing information and where and when vitamin D supplements can be useful.
Taking my own advice and that included in the above video, I’m ensuring that my vitamin D levels are kept up to snuff by a modest daily dose of 500mg (two capsules) of cod liver oil, the occasional snack of sardines on toast, while Mrs S goes for a canned tuna melt a couple of times a week. We both try to get out for a stroll, or at least outside as often as possible and are hoping that this will be enough to fend off the worst of cold and flu season, regardless of any other virulence.
Canada’s Prime Minister has just returned from swanning around Africa, brown nosing for votes to give Canada one of the currently vacant seats on the UN’s insecurity council. This is nothing more than a vanity project, especially when Canada is being brought to a grinding halt by little more than a handful of Tides-funded fake nations protesters. Now he wants to engage in a dialogue? Do I hear someone laughing? Soros, is that you? Again.
The majority of real first nations are standing on the sidelines going “WTF?” They want pipelines. They want prosperity. I get the sense that they’re very pissed off about these fake nations taking their name in vain.
The Police appear to have been given stand down orders because they do nothing when main highways and rail lines are blockaded, yet will arrest any public spirited citizens who attempt to clear up the mess. Then there are the handful of activists who blocked the Legislature in downtown Victoria. Not sure if they’re still there. Perhaps they’re lecture dodging.
Protests are fine, but physical blockades? No, that’s a step on the road to anarchy. Not acceptable. It could even be described as terrorism. Not that there’s any terror involved for anyone above the level of total wuss.
There’s something going on beneath the surface because even the politicians are getting harassed yet the RCMP and local cops are doing nothing apart from jumping on any people who object to the blockades. Or are the Canadian Police simply doing this in mute protest at being given a big ‘hands off’ by their superiors when it comes to these blockades? By their forced inaction are the lower ranks making a political statement about enforcement? As political as they are allowed to be that is. Maybe they’re so fed up that they’re going to let things go down to the wire. Or are their upper echelons so subsumed by PC culture that the rank and file are ordered not to intervene? I have no idea.
As far as the first nations are concerned, the RCMP are damned if they do and damned if they don’t so maybe they’re simply choosing the least worst option, at least as far as they are concerned. If the country’s economy is heading toward lockdown, they don’t care. Or at least they’re not being allowed to care.
All the time the Federal Government refuse to allow the Police to do their job. All because the vanity of Trudeau wants a seat on the UN Security council, thinking that a worthwhile achievement. Even if the country he is supposed to be head of is slipping into deeper economic trouble. Even if Trudeau’s mate and sponsor George says things will be fine. Well, perhaps fine for someone who profits from the economic chaos engendered by the many NGO’s his Tides foundation gives money to, but not so good for the ordinary Canadian in the street.
I know it’s not all Tides, there’s the Rockefeller foundation and a few others as well as the Saudi’s funding these anti-oil NGO’s. The Saudi’s because they want to keep selling their oil to Canada, Rockefeller and similar US interests because the oil sands directly compete with their interests. Funding these NGO’s is just business, even if it does sabotage Alberta, and by proxy the rest of Canada.
For an informed commentary of what is currently going on, see video below. Max Bernier is right. It is a circus, and all for vanity.
On a personal front, life and work trundle on. These blockades will have little direct effect on me personally because my commute to work measures under ten metres to my windows on the world of finance and business. Which as far as Canada is concerned, look a bit sick. The Trump inspired USA continues to boom with no underlying issues that might cause a step change in the markets. Which is good for me because most of the companies I invest in have significant cross border interests.
The pound is stable, trading up on it’s pre-January 31st value despite the failure of the EU to be even remotely sensible when trying to strike a post Brexit trade deal. The EU want it all their own way and have no real idea about how to handle a proper negotiation. They want something but don’t seem to want to give anything substantial in return. Which will be the EU’s downfall. The UK holds all the aces. Links to global markets, restored fisheries, a veritable queue of negotiating teams including the USA lining up at the door. The EU is still working on the failed model of central banks, imploding economies and quantitative easing.
The only thing that can go wrong for the UK is if Bojo embraces the Green policies being discussed and sends the UK down a fiscal rabbit hole. HS2? Rail links? How very 19th Century. Never mind trying to power them with more wind farms and (derisive snort) solar farms in a cooling climatic phase. Better by far to go down the route of small scale nuclear and hydro than ‘renewables’.
Perhaps it is worth mentioning that Hydro power on a small scale can have the secondary benefit of local flood management whilst churning out stable base load, as well as being able to react quickly to upticks in demand. There are quite a few old UK mill sites that could have their networks of sluices and ponds rebuilt and a modest turbine installed. There’s also the possible added benefit of running trout farms in the mill ponds. Food and power together? Now there’s a project worth considering.
Trying to run a nation on whizzy little battery cars powered by wind and solar ‘renewables’ won’t do any good. Renewables are simply inadequate for farming or industrial use, apart from for subsidy farming. For useful power generation there’s just not enough energy density, even with the up and coming generation of battery technology. Better, and much cheaper to invest in Internet bandwidth, cabling and local distribution hubs. Now there’s an enabling 21st century technology that works. And it’s relatively cheap and flexible compared to building and maintaining railways.
If like me, your desk is at home, all you need to do is log on, hook up your comms and you’re away. Which is what I do. No scabby trains or traffic jams. No aggravation from thoughtless soccer moms or texting titheads. Add to that the advantage of not having to share an office with people I don’t really like or trust. Win-win I think.
Travel plans for 2020 are Southern Ireland this Autumn for a couple of months where we have rented a cottage in the South so that friends and family can pop over for a visit. The flights and accommodation are all now paid for, with a short hotel stay in Dublin for when we stumble thoroughly jet lagged off the plane yet to be organised. Oh my aching wallet. Car hire has yet to be booked and I’m not sure what will happen to my Lemon tree plants while we’re away, but I’m sure they’ll cope.
So, the game’s afoot and we will be gracing the Emerald Isle with out dubious presence this year.
Well, the champagne (A small bottle of Pol Roger) is on ice, awaiting 3pm Friday 31st, BREXIT day. That’s 3pm Pacific Standard, 11pm UK, midnight in Brussels, or should that be midnight for Brussels? Mrs S just reminded me, but I’d already made preparations.
Rain permitting I will be hanging out the Union flag to rub various noses in it. At least if I see any of the despised circle of stars banners on display in the neighbourhood. I choose to celebrate my countrymen’s decision and success in wresting themselves from the pelagic ooze of Brussels. Good luck chaps. I wish you all well. May the sun always be on your backs and the road rise to meet your feet. I have a seeming that those backing a Bojo led BREXIT have put their money on a winning horse.
My path looks like I shall be taking a different road and despite the current threat of Chinese Coronovirus, Mrs S and I are feeling optimistic. Plans are afoot and so shall we be.
The sad news is that Elderly Friend declines further by the day, her marbles continue to rattle out and down the memory holes of existence. However, that’s dementia for you. Within the next month or two we expect to visit her only to be greeted with a surly “Who the hell are you?” and the door of her sheltered accommodation slammed firmly in our faces. This is a thing we are resigned to facing. It’s part of the downside of being a Power of Attorney, but one you have to expect. All we can do is play along with her continual confabulations and await the long-dreaded phone call from the staff. She might see one more Spring, she might not, but at the current rate of decline I think she’ll be pushing up the daisies before they break bud. We’ll sigh, Mrs S will cry a little and I will do the honours like we did for her husband back in 2011. My goodness, was it that long ago?
Notwithstanding, the future beckons and we must heed its call, stepping up to the challenges we are set.
Got into a minor comment spat over on YouTube where some so-called ‘intellectual’ type was spouting divisive nonsense about how the ‘Boomers’ have stolen their children’s future. I watched for three minutes before my bullshit detector overloaded and I switched to something more stimulating. I also left a comment to that effect.
It must have struck a nerve because someone responded, accusing me of being a ‘boomer’ with a disparaging ‘okay boomer’ remark, saying the ‘intellectual’ had proven his case with statistics. To which I say; any damned fool can prove any case with statistics. Statistics can be used to prove that the moon is made of blue cheese and are, in the wrong hands, merely numbers tortured to the point where reality starts cracking. As Sam Clemens said; “There are lies, damned lies and statistics.” Which is as neat an axiom as was ever laid in print.
All this talk of the ‘old stealing from the young’ is bollocks on stilts. Garbage reasoning to promote division so that the promoters of divisiveness may profit from asset stripping those they accuse. No-one has ‘stolen’ anything from anyone. My parents were modestly well off and worked hard to raise their boys, as did their parents before them. They are the giants whose shoulders I stand upon, and the next generation stands on mine, as with the next and the next. Overall, I am proud to say, we as a family have become more educated and better off by increments. As for ‘stealing’ from our children by burdening them with debt, well newsflash kiddies; so were we. The taxes paid by people born in my era were still paying off war debts incurred by previous generations right up until the 2010’s. From both the first and the second world wars.
Were our futures ‘stolen’ by our parents by paying these war debts? Don’t be ridiculous. Mrs S and I have what we have because we’ve spent our lifetimes laying up resources when times were not completely shit. Deferring our gratification. Not paying for the pub managers next holiday. All this talk of redistribution of wealth off the back of this ‘stealing from the young’ crap is just cheap political rhetoric to help asset strip the haves and then not give to the have nots.
Think of this; if authority takes from the haves, there is always a cost of collection. People to employ as collectors, office space, phone bills etcetera. All of which have to be paid for by more taxes. Then there are the costs involved in paying out the resources stripped from the haves, often from different departments with multiple redundant processes employing people who might be better off and happier doing real jobs. For every dollar raised for taxes of this nature, the redistribution tends to happen as follows; From every dollar taken in extra taxation, a good forty cents go into collecting and dispersal, twenty cents plus go into the back pockets of the politicians friends who build their offices and ‘help out’ with the financing of same and less than thirty cents out of the remaining forty end up where the politicians say they’re going to go. Although this is hard to prove. Sometimes the whole dollar just disappears into the black hole of general taxation, the redistributive schemes disappearing after a couple of years, whilst the increased tax remains. This is observation, not a statistic, and being merely anecdotal has no means of proof. Yet the extra tax money is still taken. Where it ends up is anybody’s guess. Don’t even get me started on carbon taxes.
Also; have the people born in my era been ‘wrecking the environment’? More complete hogwash. I was a card carrying environmentalist until I saw the light and understood that there are other ways of working towards less pollution, cleaner air and water. I began my working life in the UK industrial midlands with the stink of used soluble oil ever present in my nostrils. Now you can walk those same streets and not catch a whiff. Similarly diesel fumes. As for the nonsense bloviated about ‘man made climate change’, well, I’ve stated my opinion about that imaginary bugaboo often enough. We, those of us now in our fifties, sixties and seventies, were the people who campaigned for less pollution and the west is now much cleaner. The east is beginning to follow, but all these massive changes take time. All of this in the last forty years.
Did I mention that people of my age raised families with the ever present threat of nuclear Armageddon looming above us? Yes we have minor terror attacks now, but I grew up with IRA bomb threats (and real bombs), so little has changed. The world isn’t ending, despite any Coronavirus, which incidentally is not the fault of people born in the demographic bulge of the fifties and sixties. Nor is anything else, including a minor warming trend as we crawl out of the last of the Little Ice Age, which has already turned into a minor cooling trend, scheduled to last for the next thirty years. We will still have plenty of arctic and antarctic ice, sea levels will not flood major coastal cities like we’ve been told will happen twenty years hence for the last forty years. According to these doomsayers that is due to happen this year (2020). Seriously, it’s like waiting for the Great Prophet Zarquon.
Yes, so I find all this labelling of people in my age group as ‘Boomers’ whatever the labellers think that means, offensive. Also I do not choose to accept their label. It’s nothing but a cheap toss off, a worthless mental squiggle, only to be used by the hard of thinking.
The Bill Sticker Alternative 