Tag Archives: Crapness

An epic wheeze…

Mrs S and I were talking in the car today as we pootled off to LocalTown. “Bill, I’m angry.” I didn’t ask what about because I already knew.
“I am too. It’s these bloody useless lockdowns.” I replied. “They make me think dark thoughts. My mind is going places I don’t want it to go.”
“What sort of dark thoughts? Share them.” She said. So I did. Nasty thoughts of committing bloody murder on those responsible for keeping us locked down. Ingeniously nasty thoughts. I think I must have a bit of Viking in my ancestry from backinnadawnatime. I won’t go into detail here, but I had it all worked out, from munition and delivery systems to the where and more importantly who. My other half let me talk for a while before making a suggestion.

Her idea was inspired by the Myanmar protests, where protesters against the military coup circulated messages on social media and then doing exactly the opposite of the message. One was along the lines of “Let’s all make sure our cars don’t break down in the rush hour tomorrow.” Then blocking traffic by pretending they had car problems at the same time, thus snarling up the streets of the capital. Men and women dressing up as each other on protest marches. Poking fun at the obvious powerlessness of the powers that be.

I thought about it for a while and took what she told me on board before I thought “What an epic wheeze!” Butting heads with the Stasi in Trafalgar Square hasn’t helped the anti-lockdown protesters, it just got people baton charged and beaten up like on September 26th. Therefore, so I am moved to consider, the traditional means of protest, particularly rallies and marches, don’t work any more. The powers that be are all geared up to fight that kind of gathering with kettling, riot shields and batons. And social media companies readily crack down on those opposed to their agenda.

So therefore, a shared message like “Simon said, let’s not quick march across pedestrian crossings dressed like extras from Dr Who tomorrow at midnight.” might have the bastards in black running around chasing groups of less than twenty around multiple locations slow walking across pedestrian crossings in pandemic fancy dress, say full painters coveralls and masks. Of course the reversal of the message would be easily deciphered, but by doing these protests flashmob style, that should get the message home in a way that even the BBC couldn’t ignore. Like doing a zombie thing around their cities wearing placards like “Beaten by the Stasi.” As a protest against the beatings or by wearing full mask and hazmat. The cops couldn’t do anything because you’re in full PPE and thus over-complying with these godawful regulations. Alternatively, the moment the cops turn up, the idea would be to disperse in all directions and change out of the protest disguise.

Reverse the psychology, keep the opposition guessing, then disappear should be the rule. Don’t square off against better armed and resourced opponents. Make them look silly, because of all the things the power hungry hate, it’s being made to look ridiculous. Or make them suffer the consequences they’ve dumped on the rest of us. Viva Frei has an interesting suggestion;

Yes, if “We’re all in this together” how come those making these lockdown decisions are still sucking so richly on the public teat? Off with their funding.

Downtime

I’m used to living and working online. It is, in some respects, something I’m fairly good at. For other things there is a phone, and as a trained communicator (Two ears, two eyes, two nostrils and one mouth, use in proportion). Unfortunately, when I need to talk to an overseas contact, our landline is down. Like today. So no business gets transacted. People don’t get paid on time and this reduces the sum of human happiness. Not something I like being even partially responsible for.

I could of course, if I had money to burn or an international data package, use my cell phone. But I’d rather put my funds to better use than paying cell phone companies for millivolts and sitting in a call centre queue for an hour or more while my remaining brains trickle out of my ears in tune with the bland awfulness of wait queue Muzak and their interminable adverts.

So what to do? Let my blood pressure be pushed beyond safe limits because the vagaries of fate preclude action? Or do I bugger off and do something slightly more interesting and successful while the phone company fix the lines? Dear reader, I chose the latter. Life, especially under the current pointless restrictions, demands little victories, those micro successes that bolter the shreds your self-esteem can be reduced to when utilities fail, and despite it not being your fault, guess who is first in line to get it in the neck when things aren’t done? Got it in one. Guess whose turn it is to be the office cat? Yours. Enjoy.

Here’s an interesting little life hack; did you know that an air fryer can make toast and fried bread? Well this one can. Saves putting the oven grill on. Don’t have a toaster, and didn’t fancy doing the old skillet toast trick. So my air fryer was put into service. 6 minutes at 200 Celsius lightly browns the bread and makes a nice hot slice to receive marmalade or whatever topping you fancy.

As an FYI; cast iron skillets can make seriously good toast and fried bread, which is where they score over the average toaster. Get the pan good and hot, stick in the bread and frying medium of choice (Olive oil, butter or nothing at all), flip when ready. There are more ways to make top notch toast than are thought of in anyone’s philosophy. All that is needed is a little outside the box culinary thinking and Robert is one’s father’s brother.

You can’t do fried bread in a toaster either. They’re a bit one dimensional as far as kitchen appliances go. Try putting anything but dried bread in them and the next thing you know it’s sparks and flames all round like a fork in a microwave. So I have the more versatile air fryer instead.

Another little culinary parlour trick I have to pass on is to stop your garlic going off. If, like me you don’t use more than a clove every other day, the trick is to peel the individual cloves and drop them into a jar of Olive oil. Result; garlic that doesn’t go off in a week and which keeps fairly well for a month. This also gives you a ready supply of Garlic Olive Oil, which commands a far higher price in the shops than the usual. So it’s a money saver too.

Anyway, supper beckons. Just soup and a small charcuterie and cheese board. There’s probably another glass of Pinot Noir downstairs too. And here’s me with this terrible thirst.

TTFN

The never-ending lockdown

Well it’s official. From the UK Governments web site. The lockdowns will continue.

(4) In regulation 19(1), for “17 January 2021”, substitute “17th July 2021”.

The lockdowns that don’t work. The numbers say so. Lockdowns that have no real effect upon either infection rates or mortality.

Which begs the question; when will this madness end? Because it is madness. Social and economic suicide. Murder by numbers. And these lockdowns are murder. Every single suicide of people stripped of the means of making a living and now can’t make their mortgages. By their own government. People whose savings ran out. Stripped of their self-esteem with no way out. Murdered by every government agency. Murdered by the Police who force them to stay in their own homes with little respite. Despite the evidence that lockdowns are harmful. Over a hundred scientific papers have proven that salient fact.

As one who is on the cusp of being in an elevated-risk age group I will say only this; I’d rather take my chances with SARS/COV-2.

Update: Yes I know this only ‘allows’ the extension of lockdowns, but does anyone out there for one minute think that this power won’t be (ab)used?

Despair

Don’t know what triggered it, but today it hit me, out of the blue, a sense of overwhelming despair. I’d done all my work for the day, met all my objectives. A bit of a struggle, but that’s not rare. At the moment everything is taking ten times as long at it should and that is weighing upon me.

Like so many others I’m not having a good lockdown. Frankly if I met anyone who rubbed my face in it about being a bit down I’d be inclined to lose my rag and give them a lesson they might not have the time to regret. If you’re having a good lockdown then you’re either one of the clever buggers who can get around the system, or one of those smug public sector arseheads who takes great delight in only doing a tenth of their usual workload and blaming a disease, when it’s the response to the disease that is really causing all the harm.

We keep on getting told that our hospital systems are ‘overstressed’ and we need to be locked down under house arrest because we have to ‘save our health services’. Well here’s a thing. It was reported in the Guardian that between 2010 and 2019, 15,834 beds have been cut in the UK’s ‘wonderful’ NHS (Stats Here).

No wonder the political class have been running around with their trousers around their ankles, blaming everyone else. Public health provision has declined in real terms. Therefore no spare capacity in the Health system when SARS/COV-2 escaped from the great prison-state of Communist China. Now the whole world is imprisoned.

But the ‘challenge’ was risen to. People voluntarily forfeited their turn in the health care systems, temporary hospitals were built and never really used, some even decommissioned. But the restrictions continued all through the Summer. Then the mask mandates were brought in, during the smegging Summer for heavens sake! Low season for respiratory disease. Face masks which do not protect against viruses and even act as a sink of infection for respiratory disease. See this article from Livescience, which contains the quote from one mask study;

” most swabs from the outside of patient masks were positive for coronavirus”

Consider this. Trying to stop the spread of SARS/COV-2, or any other virus with a surgical mask is like trying to stop a plague of mosquitoes with chain link fencing. The mesh of the fence only serves as a place for the mosquitoes to perch, like the fibres of a mask give the droplets carrying viruses somewhere to pause before being drawn into your mouth and throat with the next inhalation. The overall effect is to concentrate the amount of virus laden droplets you breathe in, because they are not dispersing normally to be killed by natural Ultra-violet light. One might even posit that the pandemic is being extended by the use of masks, when UV light and chemical means would be far more efficacious.

If we were looking for patterns of viral spread, we might be better following the weather rather for looking for patterns in lockdowns. Dry bright sunny days where UV is high means less viral spread. Chilly, rainy weather when the moisture content of the air is higher means a quicker and more pervasive spread. Or staying indoors. The average home or office is the best place to catch a disease, next to hospitals of course.

Now think about this; UV on the skin stimulates vitamin D immunoglobulins vital to boost immune systems. Which means half an hour under a sun lamp every other day would not only kill the viral spread, but also boost anyone’s immune system high enough to fight off most infections. As well as making them feel better. Sunlight, if you hadn’t already noticed, is a mood elevator. Being indoors all the time, not so much.

If we really, really wanted to kill this pandemic completely stone cold dead we should re-open all the tanning salons and give out free sessions, not get the Police to shut them down. Sunbathing in moderation is good for you. Better than you think. Science fact; UV light is both anti-viral and anti-bacterial. It has long been used in food production facilities to sanitise food prior to consumption.

Yet we’re still using lockdowns and masks when they are contra-indicated and found not to work.

Later today I’m off to run the gauntlet of Gardai checkpoints enforcing stupid regulations which are simply keeping this pandemic going. It really makes me despair.

Update: The UK Advertising Standards Authority are having a go at an advert put out by the Government. Commented on by the erudite Mr Webb below.

If you have concerns about one of these scaremongering advertisements. Complaints page is here. Every little helps.

The year that fun forgot…..

So much for a white Christmas although we had a three degree frost last night. Oh well, it was a long shot anyway. Well chums, hasn’t the last ten months been a real barrel of feckin laughs? Frankly, if 2020 was a person, I’d be tempted to throw it face down in a puddle and firmly plant my boot on the back of it’s neck until the bubbling stopped. Which is roughly how I feel about the people responsible for all the panic mongering over SARS/COV-2.

The terminally terrified, media and panicking politicians have done incredible damage to everyone else, just in case they’d catch a nasty dose of the flu. Yes it’s a nasty bug, yes it is worse than the normal seasonal influenzas, but not by that much. And it has done it’s worst. as I and many others have pointed out before. We effectively have ‘herd immunity’, regardless of new mutations that don’t seem to be doing much. The only thing that made the stats look bad is the misapplied PCR test, which was never intended as a diagnostic tool. The death stats are back to around seasonal norms. But I repeat myself. Yet again.

Update: see screenshot of stats for the UK below.

The renewed lockdowns mean Mrs S is chafing over every tiny detail, getting uptight with me for anything less than perfection. I do not blame her for this. I blame the arseheads responsible for closing everything down, yet again. For so little cause.

On the upside, a BREXIT deal has been agreed, with no serious tariffs between the EU and UK, which will work well for us here in Ireland. Just a little customs paperwork, which will be streamlined over the next few months. The markets like the outcome, and sterling took over a three cent uptick in price when the news hit, which should help any people on pensions and bode a little better for those reliant upon funds from the UK. Some are calling the fisheries part of the deal a ‘sell-out’, but it buys time for the UK to rebuild it’s fishing fleet and set up conservation zones. So it’s not a total shitshow. Silver linings abound. If you know where to look.

Overall 2020 has been a very frustrating year. Complicating for us what should have been a relatively simple move. The constant delays have resulted in our search for a place to refurbish is taking three times as long as it should. Getting out to view properties has been a constant game of sneakaround when no one, least of all the local law, is sure what the damn restrictions are anyway. Hell, we’re on ‘business’ anyway. The business of a little property development. So no-one is going to bother us much.

Originally, we were all told three weeks lockdown to ‘save’ nationalised health services, which turned into three months, and now at the current rate, with vaccines that don’t really give that much immunity, looks like heading into three stuffing years. When does this torture end? When no-one can die of anything any more? Don’t hold your breath for that one. Now the politicians have claimed the power over the minutiae of our lives, they will be loathe to let it go. Which is a very depressing thought.

Apropos of nothing, might I mention in passing that over here in the Wilder West of Ireland, Michael Collins is still a figure of deep reverence, the picture of this legendary guerrilla fighter hanging on many an Irish wall, as well as being portrayed by Liam Neeson in a very watchable feature film. After all, it was Collins who was the key figure in founding the Irish Free state, the birth father of the modern Republic of Ireland.

Even my family, protestants and heretics all, used to speak well of the ‘big fellow’ or ‘big man’ as he was known, despite one of our remote relatives being murdered by republicans back in the early 1900’s. Although fair’s fair, we had distant relatives murdered by both sides in the struggle for Irish independence, like so many others of Irish descent. And I was never a fan of what the paramilitaries did during ‘the troubles’. Neither side. But Collins was a realist and man of his people.

I try to look at it this way, it was all a long time ago and life is too short to hold that kind of grudge. The killers and order givers are all dead and long cold in their graves anyway. The fires of hell have claimed the wicked. Justice of a sort has happened.

Funny thing though, a few days ago between lockdowns, Mrs S and I were sitting in a pub having a quiet drink and I found myself looking up at a picture of Mr Collins in army uniform and wondering; “What would Michael Collins think about these curbs on Irish freedom and hate speech laws?” For a moment all the pub sounds faded into the background and I slipped into a short daydream until Mrs S Prodded me back to reality. Was it my imagination, or had I heard a ghostly chuckle and the double-snick of a well greased rifle bolt? Nah. Probably just my over-active imagination.

Anyway. Happy New Year all. Let’s try not to make a complete 2020 of the new year. Although no doubt the political classes will give it their best try.

Best Regards,

Bill

Bored with tiers

So Cromwell Johnson has cancelled Christmas, as we suspected he would. The git. Well imagine my shock. As UK PM he’s turned out to be one big disappointment after another.

Over here in slightly more sensible Ireland, we’re being allowed (Allowed! Hah!) to cross county borders and go pootle around the neighbouring countryside, and (Gasp!) be allowed to celebrate Christmas. How very fucking generous of our political class. Bunch of Cnuts. Unlike you poor buggers in the UK, for whom tier 3 was not enough. Now there’s an ultra scary new bug which means everyone is back under house arrest (Actually one of just under 13,000 new strains of SARS/COV-2). Said bug is supposed to be highly virulent, but the stats show no uptick in deaths outside of the seasonal norms. Although, according to one specialist;

Dr Maria van Kerkhove, the technical lead of COVID-19 response and the Head of Emerging Diseases and Zoonosis Unit at WHO, has also confirmed that the strain involved has been circulating for many months, though she referred to it as N501Y.

So this ‘new, virulent strain’ we’re all supposed to be hiding under the blankets about has been around for ages. It’s not new. The death count hasn’t deviated outside seasonal norms. So that kind of shoots the whole need for ‘tier 4′ restrictions down in flames doesn’t it? The only conclusion any sensible person can draw from this is that the politicians don’t have the first feckin’ clue what they’re on about.

Not to mention the ‘advisory groups’ like SAGE and NPHET claiming to be ‘experts’ when it turns out there are few real scientists amongst them, mainly mathematical modellers and ‘social psychologists’ from all accounts. We need proper epidemiologists and virologists on these advisory boards. One decent economist who understands how small businesses power an economy would be good too, rather than the current bunch of affectioned time-pleasers.

Mrs S and I increasingly find ourselves wondering openly and in public why this is. Politicians are faking having had the vaccine in order to persuade the rest of it that a vaccine is warranted. Which under the current circumstances is not the case. The ‘cases’ being no more than detections of (live or dead – doesn’t matter to the test) viral fragments because the PCR test is not fit for this specific use.

For my part, I try (as always) to find a little light in the darkness, a silver lining to the storm clouds. And I find it in family. ‘North’ is closeted in London with serious boyfriend, both of them, unlike so many, are finding ways to keep the metaphorical wolf from the door while building a possible future together. I look at it this way; if their relationship can blossom and flourish despite the lockdowns and stresses of the UK’s crapital, the Sticker clan may start a new expansionary phase some time in 2021. Providing the lockdowns end in 2021. Which at this rate doesn’t seem likely. We can always offer them safe haven and a fast Broadband connection over here if the UK goes into TITSUP mode.

One lives in hope that London based stepdaughter can find a little happiness amongst the shitshow currently being pushed on us by panicky and clueless politicians. ‘South’ based in Sydney Australia has been struggling a bit, but with a little judicious subbing out, is still up, running and socialising enough to keep her sanity, which is important.

Of course, Mrs S and I are being careful not to spoil either of our two girls, and bless the pair of them, they’ve always demurred when financial help has been offered. However, there is a pot of money marked “For dire emergencies only” just in case. It’s at times like these you earn your corn as a parent of grown-ups.

On that topic, today I have a Lamb and Vegetable soup fragranced with a little Rosemary brewing on the stove. To be served with cucumber sandwiches and a few other oddments. Cucumber Sandwiches Bill? How quaint! How, oh never mind. Don’t worry, I’m not becoming decadent, we’re not cutting the crusts off. Chill. Relax and enjoy the Christmas that never was.

I’ll try and be a bit more cheerful in the next post or two.

Another plan ruined

…does anyone personally know anyone currently affected by SARS/COV-2? I ask because I’m really sick and tired of these pointless lockdowns and masks, neither of which have any real science behind them. That’s the second hotel booking on the trot I’ve had to cancel and my patience is wearing thinner by the day. No-one can plan any more. We’re all just watching stupid politicians led by the nose, in turn leading us all deeper into a pit of economic and social disaster because they can’t admit they got it very badly wrong. Like the 1962 Milgrim experiment documented in the video below. The parallels are glaringly obvious.

These punishments, because that’s what lockdowns are, will continue until the virus is gone or a ‘miracle vaccine’ arrives. Neither of which is likely. Not for a coronavirus. Researchers have been looking for a cure for the common cold since the 1960’s, and that is often a coronavirus.   The thing is that SARS/COV-2 is now endemic, that is, everywhere, as the number of tests shows. Yet how many people are sick enough to be hospitalised or even become more than slightly off colour?  Those are the numbers we need to pay attention to.

Our planned Christmas trip, a two day treat which would have helped us both stay sane has fallen to the blunt axes of ‘level three’. I want to know who I sue for wrongful imprisonment and the imprisonment of my family, not to mention the losses to my business interests? I certainly don’t qualify for any ‘furlough’ money and my pensions are still several years away. Therefore any demand for extra taxes to pay for these lockdowns will be met by a negative value on my tax return, so the tax man will end up owing me. As for funding the health service, we’ve fed our respective health services extra billions and got nothing back for it.

We’re told that all these lockdowns were to ‘save’ the health services. Hoo-effing-ray. Unfortunately, a great many people who should have been ‘saved’ by the hospitals that were closed for nothing but COVID-19 cases haven’t been. Cancer diagnoses have been missed. Heart attacks and strokes that got worse and even fatal because they went untreated. Suicides because psychiatric care was neglected. To name but three. We know the body count of people who have been tested positive for COVID-19 post mortem, but what of those whose deaths were due to the political decisions surrounding this pandemic?

By way of anecdote. My own father died at home in extreme pain because of a missed cancer diagnosis, going from a fit and healthy fifty seven year old man to a bag of bones in less than three weeks. The doctors and technicians of the NHS missed his diagnosis, by which time it was too late. Ma Sticker and I nursed him at home until close to one awful midnight she came into the room where I was waiting to do my turn to announce; “Bill, your father’s dead.” Not only that but the GP had prescribed the wrong painkillers, so a brave man died in agony. My own later experiences of the UK’s national health service also left me less than impressed. I’m sure my occasional readers will have similar stories to tell. I’m not a fan of socialised medicine. You can tell, can’t you?

Now all our lives are on hold and despite repeated promises to the contrary, subject to arbitrary disruptions which are only adding to the body count attributed to SARS/COV-2. We were promised Christmas off, but the politicians and corporates have chosen to screw us all over, trying to bore us with tiers and other such half-arsed idiocy.

Right now I hope all the politicians, media and corporate lobbyists who pushed us into this mess, including all the members of SAGE and NPHET all die like my father did. In extreme agony from a missed diagnosis. See you in hell you bastards. You’ll know me. I’ll be the grinning demon with the really nasty barbed pitchfork at reception. Maybe I’ll even give you a friendly little wave before I ram it right where your sun doesn’t shine.

I wasn’t surprised

So the UK has is to be plunged into another pointless bloody lockdown. As pressured by SAGE. I thought we had a bunch of idiots in charge over here. No, there seems to be a competition on as to which Government can F*ck their respective populations the hardest.

I find myself wondering if the European academics in question are running a book on how much a given western population can take in the way of economic pain and social misery. Or is this some clever backhanded way of discouraging illegal migrants? “Nah, don’t bother with the West, it’s a third world shithole.” Well it’s certainly heading that way. At least if these lockdowns continue.

Personally I think some bugger, somewhere is laughing up their sleeve at us all, watching stupid, know-nothing politicians and their ‘advisers’ turn once prosperous places into dystopias where only the feral homeless dwell. The feral homeless being the rump of the population after all the smart money has buggered off and found that all their reserves can’t really buy anything because the whole economy has crashed and burned leaving a desert behind it. Only those who know how to grow things out of sight of others will thrive. But that’s the extreme case scenario. All I know is that it will take ten years or so to fully recover from this Government caused mess.

This will be known as the generation that had it all, then threw it away for a bad flu bug.

Me and Mrs S are just KBO’ing. Dealing with each challenge as it arises. Hoping for the best but preparing for the worst and making sure we help the kids out where needed. I just feel like I’m bleeding money for no good reason. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

Echoes

It’s not so much the hanging around waiting for things to happen that I mind. It’s the uncertainty that nags at my hindbrain. At present we’re still waiting for our worldly goods to arrive, and the person who was supposed to keep us informed has buggered off for a long weekend. The banks are likewise being less than amenable. Which is annoying. Simple things are taking twice as long as they should. Deliveries of goods are all over the bloody place, and a refund is not much good if you’ve been hanging around waiting for a specific item for the last three flaming weeks.

The echoes in our new place tend to get on your tits after a while. Which isn’t a whole lot of fun. Not to mention being in ‘level five’ lockdown. No matter that lockdowns don’t really work, so why despite all the freaking evidence are we still in fcking house arrest? Not to mention the threat of the coppers kicking down doors on Christmas day because someone might have one guest more than some arbitrary figure pulled out of thin fcking air? Whoever thought that was a good idea needs their throat slitting and their dying cadaver nailed upside down to a post by a very large spike through their sexual organs.

Notwithstanding, Police worldwide are traditionally known to dislike intervening in ‘domestics’ as the “He said-she said-they did.” factor is astronomical, and the chance of stray cutlery going where it shouldn’t during such an incident is too high for someone hoping to be around to claim their pension. That sort of officer will have already decided that there will be a large number of NFA’s on Christmas day, if they can’t call in sick or get the day off. However, the newer breed seem to have an unpleasant zeal for ruining other people’s days. A predilection for unwarranted intervention. A lack of live and let live. They’re more like Jackboots than the Police officers I was brought up to respect.

There’s also a suspicion that some unpleasant individuals will rat on their neighbours to get their own back for some slight, either real or imagined. Some might turn anonymous informer simply because they’re having an unhappy time and they don’t see why anyone else should have any fun. There’s a word for that sort of person. It’s a short, pithy, Anglo-Saxon adjective. My last remaining reader will no doubt know exactly what kind of low-life I’m referring to. The poison pen letter writer, the curtain twitcher, the neighbourhood snitch; weak willed, nasty and spiteful.

Fortunately our local Garda don’t seem to be much in evidence and will only make their presence felt if there’s a real problem. We might be supposed to be confined to a 5km radius, but there are enough exceptions for everyone to negotiate their way around and get the necessities of life in without too much legal interference. And no-one in their right mind is even thinking about interfering with Christmas. Besides, we’re building relationships with our close neighbours, making ourselves known, helping out if need be and just being decent human beings. But those are tales for another time and place.

In the meantime at our new domicile it’s all hurry up and wait while the echoes of life amplify every single breath. Is it time to go out? Why yes I think it is.

Misery and stress

Not feeling too good at the moment. Sleep is a shattered mess with lots of staring at midnight ceilings, head buzzing and I’m noticing the little ‘tells’ that let me know I need to reduce my stress levels. Like now. A nervous tremor here, a tendency to spook easily, and a sense I’m flooded with adrenalin. I know my blood pressure is through the roof without even having to check and there’s bugger all I can do about much of it.

This is very unhealthy. I’m also getting angry far too easily, which can be less than healthy for those around me. My head readily fills with dark fantasies of mayhem. This is bad because I, despite advancing years, am still physically strong and have a good deal of knowledge about the human body (amongst other things) and might, although this is a very remote might, under pressure may end up doing something that I will certainly regret and other people may not have the subsequent luxury of doing so.

I’m not quite at the point where I can’t be trusted with sharp objects, but I can see where that point is and it’s too damn close for my liking. I need to do something about this, soonish.

Regrettably, all the things I usually do to reduce stress, like socialising, long distance travel, and weekends away, are now officially Verboten. I’m sure it’s the same for a lot of other people. Writing about what stresses me out helps a little, but there’s too much negative energy pushing from the wrong direction. Changing continents is stressful enough, like selling a house in the UK. It’s the uncertainty that chews at you. Will things turn up on time or are they stuck somewhere? I’m trying to be patient, but that patience is wearing wafer thin.

The echoes of an empty house don’t help. Our worldly goods were supposed to dock a week ago and we’ve heard absolutely nothing from the movers. Deliveries are getting later and later and the restrictions mean that doing anything takes five times as long as they should. Which also mean I can’t get on with things. I’m left sitting on my hands writing angry blog posts. Many of which never see the light of day. A number of which should be buried at a midnight crossroads after being digitally burned and boiled in acid.

What bothers me is the sense that we’re being tortured here. By the very institutions meant to protect us. And for no good reason. We’re in a hot mess caused by bad computer models, a fear-stoking media and clueless politicians. I’d spit in their eyes if I came across any of them. All of them. I never thought I’d hate anybody this much, because in real life I’m normally such an affable easy going sort, but here we are.

All this misery and stress comes from one source; officialdom. Bone headed, boorish, control-freak officialdom that has not an ounce of good faith or friendliness. An officialdom that cannot admit it’s got things catastrophically wrong. An officialdom whose first instincts are to repress. To leave uncaring misery in it’s wake. An officialdom insulated from the pain it inflicts upon others. Perhaps if officialdom learned a little about the pain it inflicts it might have the sense to back off a little. Unfortunately I don’t think that’s going to happen.

Christmas is going to be cancelled. Our Christmas is and I know exactly where the blame lies. This will not be forgotten or forgiven.

Converging opportunism

We’re being played. I have no other conclusion to offer. The numbers don’t justify lockdown and I even downloaded the source data just to check and did my own comparison with seasonal norms. Yes there’s the obvious surge in March and April for respiratory infection deaths, but now?

We got threatened with a ‘second wave’ of SARS/COV-2 which has turned out to be more of a second hiccup. Indeed, all the dire predictions circulating around this strain of coronavirus have proven effectively worthless. If this virus was a military invasion it would be in final ‘mopping up’ operations. It has done it’s worst. The vast bulk of the vulnerable have either succumbed or recovered. We are left with a relatively small rump of uninfected. The ‘cases’ we keep getting told about are most likely a phenomena brought on by widespread application of the flawed PCR test. Some authorities even say the ‘casedemic’ is somewhere in the region of 90% false positives.

For this I dived into the stats and gave myself a nasty headache? (seeing as we’re in yet another bloody pointless lockdown anyway) When other, far superior intellects have already done all the scientific and intellectual heavy lifting? For this I get called “A dangerous idiot”. Hmm. ‘Dangerous’ perhaps, but ‘idiot’ by appointment only, and only if I’m getting paid to be one.

You have to giggle at the rampant ignorance out there though. People who have never heard of Jenner, Pasteur or Salk. Three of the most famous names in vaccination. That’s the kind of people who are calling l’il ole me a dunce.

There are even people who believe that vaccines have been in use for ‘thousands of years’. Really? if that were the case, Galen, the Roman era authority on pre-industrial medicine would surely have mentioned the practice. Having read some of the modern translation of his treatise some three dozen years ago (I was bored and I found a copy in my local library), I cannot recall any mention of vaccination type treatments. Nor from the famous Islamic medical scholar Ibn al-Nafis, who documented some of the human circulatory system in the 13th century. Nor in the book known as ‘Culpeppers herbal’, an English Civil War era text on plants and their medicinal uses (As well as astrology and other such stuff, but such was the spirit of the age).

The history of medicine is something I like to read about when the mood strikes, and I’m sure Leg-Iron, trained microbiologist that he is, has had occasion to do so. Not to mention our antipodean authority on matters microbial (As long as they’re from Tipton), the Flaxen Saxon. I might be an idiot, but I’m damned sure they’re not.

That said, I don’t think these continued pointless restrictions are a conspiracy, but I do think there’s an unholy convergence of interests, from the pharmaceutical companies that have bet big on a vaccine, their financial backers, and the politicians that love the naked power lockdowns give them. Not to mention the mathematical modelers, who develop their algorithms on false assumptions, then present the resultant gobbledygook as ‘fact’, despite the burden of medical proof against them. Then there are the propagandists and their useful idiots both in the mainstream media and greater population who ‘believe in science’ when all they are doing is desperately seeking something that will give them power over others and so bolster the rags of their wretched self esteem. Their ‘belief’ has little in the way of fact and more to do with the giant hole in their life left by an absence of spirituality. They’re just looking for meaning in the wrong place.

Me, I just hate being so obviously bullshitted and having my face rubbed in it. It’s probably why I drink so much. It blots out the nonsense.

The futility of it all

This new wave of lockdowns make no sense. Ivor Cummins runs the numbers below, and newsflash people; they do not lie.

The politicians and mainstream media are obviously deluded, seeing what are in effect seasonal norms and conflating them with some huge disaster in waiting. A disaster that, it is patently obvious, is mostly imaginary. As of Thursday over here in Ireland we go into a ‘soft’ level five lockdown where people aren’t officially allowed to go further than five kilometres from their homes, unless they are exempt for some reason.

As Ivor rightly points out, the data is in, and the numbers tell one simple truth. The SARS/COV-2 virus has already spread and is doing nothing like the damage predicted by the shonky Imperial College modelling. Because that’s what’s behind these lockdowns, bad data modelling. Not real science, but statistics based on false assumptions. Which isn’t science at all.

We hear a lot from the media talking heads and politicians about ‘doubling’ of rates, indeed we’ve been hearing this Greek chorus for quite a while now, but nothing of the sort appears to be happening. The seasonal norms continue to go about their business in blithe disregard of what those in the media bubble realities have been so breathlessly predicting. It’s like listening to Global Warming fanatics (Well of course, they’re often the same people). Those disaster fantasies are also fueled by these bad computer models. I believe the specific data models these things are based on is a particular algorithm which is about as much use as the proverbial chocolate teapot when it comes to any approximation of reality.

They rather remind me of my Canadian Brother in law, who gleefully latches on to the latest we’re all dooomed fad fiction and repeats it as though it were gospel truth. He doesn’t bother with the real science, never bothers with source data, just reels off out of context stories from the mainstream. All of his information is at least fourth hand from press releases. Unfortunately, no matter how wrong he is, he continues to believe that he knows the ‘science’, and often dismisses my observations that one disaster scenario looks awfully like the one predicted last month. No doubt, despite my well-founded scepticism, he will refer to me as a ‘denier’, which is nothing more than a rhetorical trick. Call your opponent names and dismiss anything they might have to say, no matter how reasonable.

Fortunately, Mrs S and I have stocked up on the necessaries, we have received assurances that our worldly goods will probably be delivered about the end of the month, and we’ve set up work arounds for most of the other little niggles that these futile bloody lockdowns throw up in our faces. Then there’s the ongoing saga of getting car insurance, which for strange reasons known only to Irish insurance companies, isn’t widely available to expats. And there’s no one I can talk to or reason with face to face under these restrictions. So far all my efforts have failed to bear fruit. Now if I was an alcoholic Lithuanian and an EU citizen with nine points on my license, it would be a snip. But since I’m a Canadian expat with a clean driving record, it’s “Sorry, can’t help you.”

But trying to convince my brother in law, and likewise the politicians, that they’ve got it all wrong, is quite simply an exercise in futility. It leaves you feeling desperate and slightly hollow. Or as I said to Mrs S today “Sometimes I just feel like crying.”

The new normal

I was up early, pacing our empty kitchen this morning, worrying. Word is we may even be restricted to travel within 10km of home for the next four weeks. Bound by an insane web of ever changing rules that make the word ‘byzantine’ look like simplicity personified. Masks, no matter how useless they really are at this stage of the game at preventing viral spread, will be required everywhere, perhaps even in your own home. Although there are those who do that already. The insanity is, like the SARS/COV-2 virus, everywhere. It has gone from pandemic to endemic. There’s no escape.

Uncertainty has become the rule under which we live. At this point I don’t even know if our worldly goods will be allowed to be delivered next week. The situation is that unclear. We’ve put a deposit on a suitable car and it’s in the shop having a pre-sale detail and service. Unfortunately, as the car dealership we are buying from is slightly over 10km from our new home we may not even be allowed to pick it up at the end of this week. We have the money to spend, but we don’t know if we’re going to be allowed to spend it.

Insurance for independent expats like us is likewise an issue. Finding someone who will insure without a usable no-claims is a pain. We have full documented no claims in Canada for the last thirteen years and for at least six documented years UK no claims before that, but does any of it count over here? Nah. Only certain countries no-claims, such as some EU states and the UK (But not always) are allowed here in Ireland. We know we’re going to get stung. The only question that remains is ‘how much by’? When it comes to transport, there’s this constant feeling of; “Sticker, see that brick wall? That’s for your head. Off you go.”

However, our woes pale into insignificance if some of the lockdown stories surfacing are any guide. There’s a nasty rumour floating around the Interweb that people have died screaming in agony because they were prevented from getting prompt treatment by the lockdowns. Don’t know if these tales are true or not, but I’m sure that video’s will surface if they are. If this is the new (ab)normal they can keep it.

The truth is like that. It always leaks out. The harsher the censorship by the tech giants, the more things will pop up. The evidence will surface, one way or another. And we know where the blame will lie, as it has lain over the last two decades or more. On those who push the panic button to keep themselves in a job, the powers that be, and those who carry water for them.

Hear what Sargon has to say. They’re cancelling and censoring the White House’s social media accounts? Along with so many others. That’s going to come back to bite silicon valley and some of the big corporates. Especially if Trump wins his second term.

I don’t use social media anyway, having cancelled twatter and Arsebook years ago.

Fortunately our car hire guys have been absolute heroes. Sixt, when it comes down to it, may not be the cheapest, but their customer service is worth every penny. I’ve used them in four countries on three continents so far (Australia, France, UK and Canada) and unlike all the others, have always walked away without a care. There’s never been that WTF! moment when you check your credit card statement after a hire. Our currency brokers have likewise upped their game, as if it needed upping, and come through with some happy news. If you have a legitimate need to shift money from country to country, may I give the gold star of approval to Currencies Direct. Needless to say, Mr Bezo’s boys continually come up trumps. These guys have been life and sanity savers in very difficult times.

Update: Other people are not as fortunate or determined as we, and even children are cracking up under the strain. Watch the video below, read out from a report first penned in May 2020. God alone knows what that poor kid is like now, and he will be only one of thousands. Perhaps even tens of thousands. We can only guess.

These lockdowns are a crime against humanity and the cracks are showing. But I repeat myself. Again and again and a-bloody-gain.

Useful links; as far back as 15th May, 43% of UK Psychiatrists reported an uptick in cases directly attributable to the lockdowns.

At least half a million more people in UK may experience mental ill health as a result of Covid-19 restrictions, says the first forecast from Centre for Mental Health on 15th May. the figures for 1st October predict ten million.

That’s just the mental health side of the coin. The economic damage and attendant fallout promises to be far worse. Now the Welsh assembly thinks it’s lockdown will make any difference. They’re wrong. The real science says they are, but they are politicians who don’t understand what they’re doing or what they’re really dealing with and what actually works.

Bad news and good news

The forces of darkness known as big government has just tried to swat us (Amongst others) with another lockdown, but only succeeded in making my life easier and saving us money. The new lockdown restrictions mean that our next holiday booking meant to start on Saturday has been cancelled (Boo!) But we’re getting a full fifteen hundred dollar refund (Hooray!) Means we won’t be heading up to visit Galway (Boo!) But we’ve got a good permanent home in County Clare (Hooray!) and so on.

Tomorrow we’re going to run the gauntlet of Gardai checkpoints with a one word answer to the question “Where are you going sir?”
That answer will be a 100% honest “Home.” and I will tell them where that is and show them relevant documents if asked.

When we arrive there will be food, there will be drink. There will be zoom meetings with kids over Gigabyte Internet. Unfortunately there will be no hugs, little laughter and a hollow sense of part isolation. There is not enough furniture at present, as our worldly goods have another three weeks at least before they arrive. But we are fortunate, there is fresh bedding and beds to sleep in. Food in the larder. Money to pay the rent and bills. There are others feeling this lockdown crap much worse than us but I can offer them nothing that will do them any good. Save my encouragement that this too will pass. It has to, or we are all screwed.

God alone knows when this insanity will be over, and I wish to him he’d do something. But he’s been so busy thrashing the Chinese for their crimes against humanity with floods, locusts and typhoons that he’s probably still got his ethereal hands full. Maybe direct hits with a series of five metre meteorites upon certain seats of government might do the trick, but I doubt it. Our current crop of politicians just wouldn’t take the hint. If Jesus himself rode into the debating chambers on beams of heavenly light to show them the error of their ways they’d still argue that black was white and get run over on the nearest pedestrian crossing.

As for myself, I’m just an old fart with an obscure blog and a chequered past, what do I know? Anyway, we’ll survive this latest setback, but just because the powers that be think they’re virtuous, there will still be cakes and ale in the new Sticker household. I will see to that. That is my priority and I will take vigorous steps to ensure it remains so. In the meantime I will be following the real science, not the fake stuff peddled by the mainstream media, techniques handily explained below by the indefatigable Mr Cummins.

Blow the horn, increase the lockdowns. It won’t matter because, like the Tigers, the SARS/COV-2 virus is no longer a serious threat. The numbers do not lie. Unlike the media and politicians who quote numbers out of context to bamboozle and mislead. No idea why. Maybe they like the power they think it gives them. Maybe too many of them are banking on making a killing on the stock market over some putative vaccine. Who knows? All I know is that these lockdowns and masks are of little real effectiveness and even get in the way of developing immunity in the wider population.

Covid-19 what do we really know? Part five

This is the fifth and final post on this topic, as I’m sure we’re all pig sick of the issue. I certainly am. This whole business has been an exercise in political exploitation of a more-deadly-than common influenza but-not-by-much situation.

The numbers say the pandemic was over in mid-May and anyone saying otherwise is just not paying attention or looking at the numbers properly. For Mrs S and I, this means ‘self-isolating’ in a series of decent hotels and bemoaning the fact that most of the bars are closed. We are still effectively homeless, but this situation will change soon enough and the tenor of life will shift back towards sanity. More about that in the next post. I promise all will, as the Circassian slave girl wearing seven diaphanous pieces of cloth said to her Harem master, be revealed. Kind of.

The SARS/COV-2 crisis is over. It’s been over since May in northern Europe. If you’d taken the time to watch Ivor Cummins detailed statistical analysis of this pandemic’s curve, you would see that the death count has been bumping along the bottom for some time now. The increasing of the restrictions at this point in time makes less sense than the gibberings of a village idiot who’s clearly off his meds. I suspect that these decisions are being made by committees with weak chairmen / chairpeople / oh I give up, who never produce anything worthwhile.

The lunatics, it is clear, are not only running the asylum, but are going round to all the other asylums and unlocking the doors, then telling the public that this new insane ‘normal’ is something they’re just jolly well going to have to put up with. I say “Get knotted.” The rest of us have lives to get back to, and these proposed new rules will end up causing more civil strife than any before them.

Personally I’m inclined to suggest targeting the informers and enforcers. Isolating the bastards and making their lives a misery at every turn. Make these new lockdown rules unenforceable. The snitches may think twice before informing if they find themselves buried under a sea of complaints about every minor infraction of every single petty rule going.

I’ve met these people in my one time role as an enforcement officer, and they are without exception, the worst kind of human being. The latter day playground sneaks, the self-deceiving cowardly passive-aggressive narcissists with all the social graces and honour of amoebic dysentery. Those guilty of the sin of envy, worshipers at the altar of their great green eyed god because they are so devoid of common humanity that it is the only way they know to find any means of self worth. Their beloved victimhood cannot be impugned, but they feel so worthless and downtrodden all the time, this is their only way of interacting with the outside world. Far too many of these people work in local government. Trust me, I have, as briefly as possible, walked alongside many of them, skin crawling on the inside. Many of them have been socialists in affiliation or affectation.

Unfortunately, the system rewards their worst behaviour. It should not do so. The system should be about fair and even handed treatment. Not collective punishment and house arrest for every petty infraction of unnecessary rules which do nothing to mitigate a disease that has already done it’s worst. Which is what these restrictions amount to. For what? For a pandemic that has been over for months? Give it a rest for goodness sake.

One of the more sinister aspects of mandatory mask wearing is that the practice can make people sick. Think about it. By wearing a close-fitting mask you are effectively re-breathing your own contagion, upping your viral load and potentially overloading your own immune system. Yes, I know I keep banging on about it, but surgical masks are only good for one thing, stopping the infected spreading their contagion by reducing the radius of infection. For the healthy person who does not need to wear one, they can be downright hazardous. Surgical masks, like any other kind, are designed to be worn in dry, air-conditioned spaces only, and then for relatively short periods of time.

The only people that need to wear full PPE or even a surgical mask are those that work in a mostly sterile atmosphere controlled environment such as an operating theatre or ‘white room’ environment. For the general public, for reasons outlined above, masks are, at this stage of the game, positively dangerous. As for those cloth things sported by so many, if not washed properly between uses, those should be outlawed.

My most recent experience of wearing a surgical mask for more than three hours at a time has been less than amusing. Canadian air transport regulations forced us to wear these things for both of our long-haul flights yesterday and the experience was highly unpleasant. Forced to rebreathe heavily moisture laden air led to catarrh build up and uncomfortable nasal and bronchial congestion. Both Mrs S and I, while the cabin staff were not looking, were forced to slip the masks off for a few minutes just so that we could actually breathe properly. As for the fifteen minute dash to get our connecting flight, wearing a close-fitting mask while hoiking laptops and our carry-ons between gates was an experience I don’t want to repeat, as were one of Air Canada’s inedible pre packed meals that claimed to have been concocted by some ‘gourmet’ chef (Hah!) Under the current restrictions, airline travel is only for the masochist. No wonder shares are bumping along the bottom.

Now I’m pretty sure that most people have gotten bored and wandered off by this point, so I’ll clam up on this topic. Although I’m sure I’ll have more than enough opportunity to say “I told you so.” and in a more Marvinesque manner; “But no one ever listens to me, I’m just a menial robot.” in future posts.

Or as I remarked to Mrs S while waiting for room service, “Now I know why Darth Vader breathes like he does, he wears a mask all the time too.”

There is one dark little postscript to add; do the powers that be realise the power they will hand to organised crime by increasing the length and severity of their restrictions? People need life and entertainment because without them there is no point to the daily drudgery of their lives. Someone will provide the speakeasies, the hidden drinking spots, neighbourhood meetup places away from the spiteful glare of prodnoses. Who will the needy turn to? The authorities mandating these restrictions? Or the guy who knows a guy who can provide a protected place to have a good time without official interference? For a small fee of course. Think about it.