Tag Archives: Irreverence


First automated power cut warnings went out in the UK recently, so we’re told. We’ve had nothing of that kind over here in the wilder west of Ireland, but it’s probably incoming. Hey, we’ll just get the cuts without the warnings. What larks eh?

Having said that, on November 18th, ESB sent out the following;

“If it’s windy outside, it is a good time to use your appliances as wind generates renewable energy and Ireland will be relying on that more and more.”

This is the downside of demanding ‘renewables’ (Hah!) to ‘save the planet’ (They can’t). We here at Maison Sticker have contingencies. Portable gas heaters. (Note to self; check and replace gas cylinders) UPS power supplies and good insulation. Gas alarms. Cooking standbys. Local Credit Union account for cash transactions if the high street banks go offline. All that shizzle.

As an aside; one of the things that occurs to me about all this nonsense spouted by the WEF is that their evil anti-human agenda can only happen if there’s a stable infrastructure to base it on. Intermittent (and ‘noisy’) power means bad comms, and without permanently stable communication there is no control. When those go down the authorities are reduced to sending gangs of armed enforcers (Knowing my neighbours, they’ll need to be) roaming the countryside, extorting what they will and a massive bureaucracy to back it up, which is practically impossible and economically unsustainable.

There are workable solutions to the current power crisis. Rolls Royce have had an SMR solution for decades. Similar nuclear power units to those that safely power the UK’s Nuclear Sub fleet. Gas powered power stations, backed up by Fracked gas. But oh nooooo. Nuclear is seen by a noisy ignorant few as too dangerous, despite having a way better global safety record than wind turbines. And fracked Gas? All those earthquakes? Which are all below magnitude 2.0 which humans can’t feel and don’t result in subsidence. Throw a little hydro into the mix and you’ve got clean reliable power and low CO2 emissions (For all the good that will do) Better by far, lower particulate emissions.

All this and four inches of snow predicted. Enjoy. I may go out and build a snowman.


Have spent a bit of time recently looking at the logistics of rearing chickens for eggs and the occasional roast dinner. Materials for chicken runs, building coops and nesting boxes, feed costs etcetera. The big one is feed. What used to be dirt cheap is now hugely expensive. all down to the Yanks proxy war in Ukraine, allegedly. Funny how that one regional conflict is (allegedly) responsible for so many basic feedstuffs, makes you wonder what the rest of the world has been doing, sitting on it’s hands?

According to the World bank, Ukraine was running a trade deficit, mainly to Russia, Turkey, Belarus, Italy and Poland. Figures here. Russia is the big net exporter, so perhaps it is Russian feed grains that are not getting through. Although Russian exports, according to the World Bank, have yet to drop below just over USD$300 Billion, as they did in 2009 and 2016. Now forgive me if I didn’t hear about feed costs rocketing upwards back then.

Notwithstanding. What this means, because UK egg producers can’t produce at what UK supermarkets are willing to pay (Because the Ukraine war and sanctions on Russia have pushed feed prices skywards), is egg rationing. Which ironically, will result in fewer hens being ordered and produced for next Spring in the UK, and even fewer eggs than right now. So instead of home grown eggs produced under the UK’s humane animal protection laws, eggs will have to be bought in from overseas suppliers who aren’t quite so fussy about the welfare of their laying hens.

I do not consider myself pro-Russian. Some would say they’re a different and far more robust culture than we in the effete West. And having seen what the Russki’s often did to Somali pirates, I wouldn’t like to cross them without a task force of Sherpa’s. In Russia, men are men, the women aren’t grateful, and it’s either baking hot or bloody cold. Which is probably why the Russians drink so much and produce such gloomy literature.

Yet I find myself wondering; “When Trump was in office, the Russki’s were contained and the arms manufacturers weren’t getting rid of their surplus ordnance.” For all Trump’s many faults, he does know how to deal with the Russian mindset. Even if there was no ‘collusion’ between him and old Vlad. He didn’t need to collude, just negotiate, and that is Trump’s greatest strength. Apart from all the ‘mean tweets’. Which were fun as they upset all the right people.

The more I look at it, the more I think this whole Ukraine business is the West shooting itself, very accurately, in the foot.

This has lent a spur to my plans to have a small hen house and trade the excess eggs with my livestock rearing neighbours. My taste testers have pronounced the raw honey I’ve produced this year as “great stuff”, and I hope to expand my operations next Spring, integrating Beehives, Chickens and fruit growing, with a few Vegetables on the side. Hopefully with sufficient surplus to begin brewing and distilling.

I would counsel my small coterie of enlightened tin foil hat wearing readers to do something similar.

Oh yes. I’ve just seen the latest ‘Pride’ flag. Now is it just me or doesn’t it just reek of 1960’s low budget cinema advertising? Now I can’t get the vocals out of my head. Pa-Paa Pa-Paa Pa-Paa Pa-Paa PaPaPaa


An unconscionable time a-dying

No, not me, (You should be so lucky) but allegedly the last words of English King Charles 2nd in 1685. I always think of this quote when anyone raises the question of (alleged) vaccine related deaths, but don’t look for ‘evidence’ because what there is is deeply hidden. Correlation is not causation, but, and this is the big but, the glaringly in your face correlation is a strong indicator that there is something worthy of further investigation. Something, as they say, is most definitely up.

Recently terms like SADS, Myocarditis (Inflammation of the heart muscle), pericarditis (inflammation of the pericardial sac which contains the heart) have been in the news. The incidence is on the uptick, and is often linked to a certain period after injection of one of the mRNA ‘vaccines’. Which can prove fatal. Then there are the German studies linking mRNA vaccines to infertility.

As a primer; inflammation is an immune response to injury by whatever cause, be that injury, stress or a pathogen such as a bacterium, virus or fungus. As I understand it, inflammation is the immune systems way of trying to make conditions for the attacking agent so uncomfortable that the pathogen in question packs it’s figurative bags to go look for better digs. That or kills the pathogen (or the sufferer) outright. This is not an accurate description of what happens, but as analogies go it simplifies a complex process to a point where anyone can understand roughly what’s going on.

So when events like the following, as narrated by legal vlogger Viva Frei happen, ironically to a “Vaxxed to the max” individual during the public enquiry over the anti-mandate protests and unwarranted (Well I think so) use of the Canadian Emergencies act. Just watch. Listen and compare all the other little stories that leak out of various outlets, all the while the big corporate guns of the mainstream media seem to be sitting in a corner, facing the wall and humming loudly so they can’t see or hear what’s really happening. The mRNA COVID ‘vaccines’ carry a risk. Far more than traditional vaccinations.

Now non-COVID ‘excess deaths’ are surging above pandemic levels, we have to ask ourselves; Who is kidding who? As Western Governments prepare to double down with yet more pointless mask mandates and lockdowns, more persecution of the ‘unvaccinated’, despite clear indications that those who have succumbed to the rather suspect exhortations to “Get your booster” are at a higher risk. COVID probably won’t kill you, but the ‘vaccine’ might. When going for that booster (Which doesn’t prevent the spread or give more than five months immunity) it could be you. As it has been for an increasing number of otherwise young and healthy people frightened into taking inadequately tested treatments. The notorious Swine flu jab was pulled for much fewer casualties.

My first clues that this might be the case while I was waiting in a supermarket queue back in 2021, overhearing that someone had partaken of the first vaccine doses, yet still got a SARS/COV-2 infection. which shouldn’t happen post vaccination. Which made me think “Oy-oy, that doesn’t sound right”. Post vaccination infection doesn’t happen very often with, for example, Poliomyelitis, yet since then I’ve heard the same story over and over again. Yet found myself pressured, against my better judgement, into having the first two jabs, just to get a ‘vaccine passport’ to go into a restaurant. Not that I thought the food was that exciting.

I was discussing the matter with my physio, and he is of the same mind as I am, that the restrictions were wrongly applied, and that keeping people indoors when what they needed most of all was moderate exercise in the fresh air and a good healthy mixed diet, was idiotic in extremis. He also told me he’s never had any vaccine, which he and his girlfriend count as a plus. I may also lose him to Australia, as they are aggressively poaching medical professionals like him from European countries and he’s keen to give it a go. But you know what? I say good luck to him, and having family in the fabled land of Oz, will feed him any information that he needs to make a go of things.

However, you wouldn’t know this if your sole sources of information are from the mainstream like the BBC and RTE. Yet useful sites linking to real information like Lockdownsceptics.org? Vanished. Daily sceptic site still up. Is this a facet of ‘cancel culture’ or just a bit of site admin? No matter, I’ve updated the link.

Talking about more useful news media. Redacted have a take on the latest ‘Vaccine’ revelations.

Sometimes it’s hard not to go all Marvin the Paranoid Android.

Recovery mode

Recovering from a moderate dose of the flu this week. Not COVID, just a bog standard dose of the lurgi which has left me with a morning cough and heavy sense of lethargy. Bloody thing. It’s been hanging around like the last guest at a party who doesn’t know when it’s long past time to go home.

That’s not really important because the meadows are cut, the grass crop is in and I’m out seeding just before dusk. The idea is to create a wildflower meadow with a particular native species called Yellow Rattle, a parasitic plant that cuts down the grass content of a given meadow by binding to the roots of various types of grass, allowing easier germination of other types of native species of meadow plant. Well, that’s what I’m told anyway.

One issue with grassland over here, because of Ireland’s geology, the soil tends toward wet and poor nutrient, which means rushes. Rushes (Juncus Effusus L), are little use for man nor beast and a pain in the bum to get rid of from pastureland. Experiments have been done, trying to turn them into some sort of biofuel, but so far nothing commercial. So I’m trying a parasitic planting to reduce the rushes in our meadows and thus improve the pasture and forage.

We’re doing our land management in partnership with an NGO which promotes the creation and maintenance of native plant species for pollinators and native bee species. My neighbours are all watching with interest, as their land has a similar set of problems.

We could be setting a trend here, if it works. Especially with the new ‘Green’ agenda being forced on us small farmers from above. The politicians can’t force you to stop using artificial fertilisers if you don’t use them anyway, but just you watch the townies start screaming as yields drop and food prices soar. ‘Sustainable’ my left buttock.

Speaking of bees. Last hive inspection before Winter is done, and I may have to wait until Spring before I split my colonies into heavily insulated ‘Nuc’s’. However, instead of feeding, I’ve elected to leave a ‘Super’ on top of the brood box on each hive so that my bees have plenty of winter food already. This means I have a reduced crop, but it still leaves me with a healthy surplus for gifts, mead brewing and personal use this year. So, win-win for both me and the bees.

As for me, I’ll feel a whole lot better in a week or so when I’ve shrugged off this damn flu. Because there’s a whole heap of things to be done before Winter comes, and people owe me favours, which I intend to do a little cashing in on.

Apropos of nothing

On the way back from a busy day out on Friday, Mrs S and I were confronted by two cyclists on a fast stretch of the link road up to localtown. Now common sense alone would have dictated that said slower vehicles be travelling single file, but instead both were puffing and wheezing across over half the width of the road. I mean who did they think they were? Tractor drivers?

This set off a spirited discussion about the need for some kind of licensing and insurance for cyclists. Mrs S being a now retired teacher, was adamant that all cyclists be helmeted, licensed, insured and taxed up the wazoo just like every other road user. I took the milder position that an insurance scheme for cyclists should be available so that those who fall foul of the law, or are held guilty of causing an accident should have some kind of insurance cover for any damages they are held responsible for. Those without should suffer the full financial penalty for any misdemeanours, just like any other road user, with the exception of horses I believe. but even so I am led to believe that many horse riders carry additional PPE and veterinary insurance, as horses are expensive to stable, feed and care for, and if startled and sent bolting down a road, some form of insurance is necessary to cover the expense of a large vets bill. Here’s the advice from Horse and Hound, who recommend some form of third party insurance for on road use.

An additional thought occurs. With 20mph areas being on the increase in dear old blighty, a speed which a bicycle is easily capable of exceeding, some form of identification for the cyclist in question should be available to the farces of law and disorder to hand parking or speeding tickets to the correct offender.

Then on Saturday I was listening to the GB news YouTube channel, and guess what they were discussing? The licensing, insuring and taxing of cyclists. Mind you, we’ve had this discussion before and Mrs S’ position on cyclists is well known; tax ’em till they glow and then book ’em in the dark.

This is what passes for entertainment because I never switch the car radio on. It’s bad for the blood pressure.


New name for an identifiable condition has been publicly called for. The condition in question is a low- to medium-grade anxiety disorder caused by the realization that the bureaucrats and politicians who are nominally in charge do not really know what they’re doing, cannot read or understand data, and will not course correct in response to new information.

It’ s caused by a grinding disillusionment and realization that the people in charge (including the people writing about the people in charge) are, if not quite idiots, not nearly as smart as they think they are and everyone is going to have to fight like mad to keep things from getting worse. Regrettably I can confirm that I am a terminal sufferer.

Lead suggestion is Scranton Syndrome.

Any others?

From the Daily Sceptic.

The word on… insect protein

Now there are cultures that subsist off insect protein. They are invariably poor, people often never reach their full physical development and they tend to be shorter than average.

Places where insect eating is most practised are Democratic Republic of the Congo, Congo, the Central African Republic, Cameroon, Uganda, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Nigeria and South Africa along with places in South East Asia. The very poor bits of the world. Where more conventional protein sources are not available, or there’s a famine.

At best, insect protein is a starvation ration, which the western gastro-intestinal system is not adapted for. For some Africans, certain parts of south East Asia, and in obscure tribes in South America, where deep fried tarantula is considered a delicacy, this is their lot.

Now as a beekeeper I do not agree with eating insects. Honey products yes, but that’s not the same as eating my bees, which I would strenuously object to. I happen to like my little workers and try to do everything within reason to ensure their safety and comfort. Shelter, food sources and plenty of undisturbed time to produce. Mass slaughter as a direct food source? Definitely not.

We have systems to produce good quality animal and vegetable protein, yet someone wants everyone to eat reprocessed insects. Never mind the problems with digesting chitin etcetera which leg-iron gives a quick primer on, without going into the details on various bad stuff like Toluene, exposure to which can cause eye and nose irritation, tiredness, confusion, euphoria, dizziness, headache, tears, anxiety, muscle fatigue, insomnia, nerve damage, inflammation of the skin, and liver and kidney damage. To name but one. There are other potential hazards in an insect based diet becoming a staple.

There appears to be no upside. So why in the bleedin’ crystallised feck are some people saying it’s a good idea and the way to go? They’ve either fried their two remaining brain cells, or as is more likely, there’s money to be made for people who don’t need any more.

The propaganda being spouted about this is reminiscent of the blather about breakfast cereals in the early 1900’s, many of which have a higher glycaemic index than sugar for heavens sake. It is worth noting that our massive intake of sugars and starches is most likely behind the ‘obesity epidemic’ and massive increase in type II diabetes.

No doubt we will be repeatedly told that like these unhealthy breakfast cereals (With perhaps the exception of mueslis etc), insect protein is the way to go, but is it?

I used to be a fan of a TV series called ‘Doomwatch‘ where a team of investigators faced down threats to the food chain and Earth. As a boy I had a grainy old 405 line set donated by a neighbour and managed to squirrel it up to my room to watch TV on low volume while Mum and Dad watched their programmes late in the evening. All BBC hokum of course, but I hadn’t quite hit puberty yet and there weren’t many girls to distract me. Well, none that would have anything to do with a rascal like me.

The scientist cast as hero, where a team led by a Dr Spencer Quist exposing human caused threats to the environment. Usually where a technology got out of control. Such as where a rogue virus escapes from a lab, or a new foodstuff has potential for harm. Which is where we came in….

Getting a grip

Mrs S and I now have our house back. True, there are bits that don’t work and look a bit dog eared, but nothing that can’t be fixed without a few gallons of elbow grease and cleaning materials. We have power, we are once more connected to the jolly old Interwebs. We are home.

True, there are no paintings on the wall, some of which are not painted, no curtains grace our windows, but we are home. There is wine and beer in the fridge and food in the larder. We are not stumbling over a rats nest of extension cables. The heating works. Our showers are hot and even the dishwasher works. There is even the promise of a modest crop of honey in the next few days.

So we will be taking tiffin out in the yard this evening with two ever refilling glasses of Prosecco (Neither of us think we’re at the champagne stage yet) and a dry little Sauvignon blanc to complement our repast. We’ve spent a chunk of hard earned change to get to this point, but we currently owe no-one anything, at least until our next tax bills come in.

Mrs S is still hobbling around on crutches because she has to wear a brace on her leg, but we get by. Money moves to where it does most good, which is daily business by the way, not money laundering as one feckin eejit intimated. I take a dim view of being accused of something I do not do, and tend not to forgive such slurs. Call me any name you like and it won’t raise an eyebrow. However, false accusations will always get short shrift. My customary good humour always goes into failure mode on such occasions.

Notwithstanding, we are finally getting our lives back in some sort of order. Getting a grip, as they say.

Speaking of honesty, I keep on seeing some academic or luminary popping into the public press stating that they are ‘following the science’ and therefore anyone else is a heretic and should be publicly burned at the next barbecue. As one whose training includes courses on Technical writing and editing, I thought I’d have a look through the literature they claim is so air tight. I’ve deliberately left the TV off the hook, no Amazon Prime, no other televisual entertainment, so I downloaded a few tools and set to reading. The following is what I know to be true.

Let me explain; in technical writing and editing there is a thing called an ‘executive summary’, which is to put it in it’s simplest form, a list of talking points. Not definite facts or figures, but talking points. Things which look like facts, but sometimes don’t reflect the original document or can actively misrepresent what the original documentation says. Say a scientific paper presents with the interpretation that states that such and such might happen if the figures are right. If the mathematical modelling turns out to be accurate, In the executive summary this may be rewritten to read that such and such is definitely true, so help us God, so send more money please. We may have to recheck our figures to be sure. We really mean it about the money.

Now what is stated in the executive summary is often written by people who are not the original researchers, but those paid to interpret the information for the lowest common denominator of intelligence, politicians.

In the commercial world, a board of directors or senior manager requires an ‘executive summary’ to provide information that is timely and reflects the situation as presented. In the public sector, these rules seem not to apply and executive summaries are often posted as the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, cross my heart and hope to die, terrapins tickle me if I lie, when the source documentation is often more vague on a topic. In the public sector the requirements for the summary can say “What’s the worst that can happen?” so those who produce the interpretations of the summaries provide the worst that can happen. Whether this is supported by the studies in question or not. Even NGO’s get involved in this cavalcade of glossy misrepresentation and very few people have the time and energy to tell them that’s not what the study says at all. Thus failure and inaccuracy have thus become baked into the system. ‘The science’ becomes “What we say it is. So there!” rather than the result of diligence, experimental replication and erudite investigation.

Scientific researchers who contradict these narratives constructed on the back of such executive summaries can find themselves out in the cold, because if they do not provide what the politicians underlings or the NGO’s want, bang goes their funding. They can even find themselves losing tenure, which is academic death. Unless they can get a decent social media channel going and have the skills to explain their work to the public direct. Even so, they risk being publicly derided by the dishonest as ‘conspiracy theorists’ spreading ‘disinformation’, even when such a statement is a bald faced lie.

We caught a glimpse of part of this phenomenon in a Twitter stream observed by Spectator Editor, Fraser Nelson during the ongoing COVID debacle, where the then head of SAGE was caught stating that they had been asked for a worst case scenario, so they had torture the data models until that’s what the pandemic looked like. A worst case scenario.

So politicians produce legislation based on bad information. Because that’s all they can do with the information provided.

Now if only we had politicians educated and motivated enough to see through the misrepresentations…. Bugger it. We’re screwed aren’t we?

What can I say…..

I’ve been offline for over a week… Anyone bothered? Nah. Another ranting blogger gone, no great loss eh?

Well I’m back, kind of. But I may disappear again because life is getting in the way. So what have I been up to?

Moving back in to our refurbished home for one. Trying to get our various tradespeople to finish the job we want to pay them for, which has led to the disappearance of our electrician who hasn’t finished and is supposed to have got our new distribution board connected by ESB, the Irish body which controls electricity supply in Ireland. But he’s buggered off. So. No electricity connection. We’re currently powering the entire house off two 13amp sockets via a tangle of extension leads. I have no kitchen, the oven and hob are disconnected. And the dishwasher is sitting in the middle like some odd piece of non-functional installation art.

This has pissed off our builders, who can’t finish because stuff has to be reconnected. Our firm of plumbers are swearing they’ll never work with that errant sparky again. In the meantime, we’re subsisting off four standard lamps for lighting, a jury rigged hot water system (Thank goodness for gas), and in the midst of the latest tranche of ‘Man made climate change’ I’ve had to deploy one of our mobile propane heaters to keep warm. In late July already.

The only reason I’ve got Internet at all is by configuring my phone as a mobile wi-fi hot spot.

Then there has been a series of events, one of which was my better half being injured. An event which entailed over an hours wait for an ambulance while Mrs S passed out from the pain. I couldn’t do anything and was reduced to the level of despairing onlooker. All I could do was ensure the ambulance had the right address and Eircode (Eircode = Post or Zip code for all you non Irish residents) and an accurate recounting of symptoms. Making an hours drive to the hospital, then stooging around for over six hours while she was treated. Then over an hours drive back home with a whimpering Mrs S in the co-pilots seat at around four in the morning. Followed by another early morning to let our builders and plumbers on site.

Then there has been tiling and grouting two bathrooms, building multiple items of IKEA furniture, clearing builders debris and playing bodyservant and caregiver to Mrs S. In the meantime managing to refurbish two antique pieces of furniture.

So. Pardonnez-moi if I haven’t cheered the closing of the UK centre for child abuse Tavistock clinic, remarked upon how racist and divisive the BBC is, pointed out that the USA elected an Alzheimers case to their highest office, or that the heatwave that lasted for a few days is not proof of ‘man made climate change’, or that the Monkeypox thing that certain people want us to get all uptight about is currently restricted to promiscuous gay men. Or even that the Ukraine / Russia fixture was occasioned by bad US foreign policy. As for Justin Trudeau, he’s still Canada’s biggest shithead.

Never mind that all the ‘woke’ garbage we’re supposed to swallow is getting called out as pure grift. According to the ‘woke’ all the calling out is only being done by ‘internet trolls’ as opposed to being a well deserved pile on from across social boundaries. Hint; it’s not the ‘trolls’ guys. Everybody with an operating brain cell thinks all you woke are complete eejits.

Notwithstanding. I’ve been very busy and it’s catching up with me. I’ve got to finish a range of tasks before getting back to my normal routine. So if anyone missed me…

I’ll be back.

Following the science

Pulled half my fence posts this week only to find over half of them have rotted through at ground level. This means I’m left with around 10 four foot stumps with another seventeen more or less intact. This is not all that bad because I only wanted that many to be sticking up two feet out of the hard standing in their new location anyway. The full height ones are to be re-sited closer to the house to increase the size of the main meadow, the rotten remnants will be used to bulk out my raised beds.

We’ve done the maths and we know we can recover enough posts to partition off part of our yard for our walled vegetable garden. I’ve recovered enough wood to make all the raised beds and when the rain lets up next week will be getting another three beds set up for planting. Our great experiment is well underway and our first plantings are almost ready to be harvested.

I will have to make some frame covers out of scrap timber and clear builders polythene to turn some of the beds into mini-greenhouses for winter time. The beds themselves are in a sheltered location and camouflaged from the road behind two lockable gates. This is a simple precaution against the fallout coming our way late this year and next. I’ve seen the figures, read the crazy ‘Net Zero’ policies and foresee such a forthcoming big hiccup in the food chain that we’re all going to have to hunker down and get growing or suffer.

We’ve been threatened with a 23% rise in electrickery prices over here, despite running LED’s throughout and having our house totally re-insulated. So we’re not immune. Then there will be the ‘fart tax‘ on livestock, which will put the price of meat up. In economically straitened times like these this is insane. Personally I will be looking to put out a few traps for trespassing greenie urbanites. Got to get our meat from somewhere. Fancy another kebab? Very fresh, very nice. Yes, like our vegetables, local supply and totally organic. Erm, no, it’s not Pork… More chilli sauce anyone?

Not that these taxes will bother me too much as we little to do with the department of Agriculture, no matter how many ‘subsidies’ they offer. I’d rather earn less and pay lower taxes than feed the monster of big government and corporate influence. Probably end up eating healthier that way. My neighbours do livestock, and we will, as I have mentioned several times before, be bartering honey and chicken for beef, lamb and pork. Might have to cut down on the bread, but that’s no big problem. Low carbohydrate diets appear to be healthier anyway.

Don’t mind me, I’m just following the science and best practice. Doing the whole organic thing and flying below the radar. You Mr Sticker, arch ‘science denier’? Yes me, but I don’t deny science, not proper science, verified by experimental proof anyway. I’m actually quite a fan of empirical science and unfudged data, because they rarely send you wrong. So I spend a lot of my evenings, instead of waiting for the next prognostication of doom from the idiot maker in the living room, reading, watching videos on topics like distribution boards and plant propagation, and generally trying to sort the wheat from the chaff.

In addition I’ve started recovering mesh and timber for the chicken coops, which will be concealed up on my top meadow, behind a small stand of trees. Not invisible, but just concealed enough not to be obvious in case officialdom comes a-sneaking around. Just like where I’ve sited my beehives. If you know what you’re looking for, they’re plain as the proverbial pikestaff. If not, nothing to see here, catch you later.

Notwithstanding, the Teagasc will not be interested in our little operation. We’re too small scale for them. And I don’t want to get involved with grants and suchlike. They’re always a double edged sword. Too many conditions and rules. I want to get by without being tempted by the public purse because of the attendant terms and conditions these ‘incentives’ always drag behind them. Like the corporate ‘Green’ agenda, which is anything but environmentally friendly.

So yes, I do follow science, but maybe when someone swears up is sideways and left is down and tells me I’m ‘anti-science’ if I don’t automatically fall in line with their version, well, colour me sceptical.

Oh for heavens sake, people!

A few nice hot Summer days and everyone in the mainstream media is losing their shit. For heavens sake, it’s SUMMER. You know, that two or three weeks of the year when it’s not semi solid cloud, sporadically drizzling or chucking it down with rain.

I keep on coming across people in comments sections who seem to believe that human activity is adversely affecting the weather. These people are terminally guilty of having highly selective memories and being complete drama queens. These wavy hand alarmists really need to learn to build bridges and get right over themselves.

From time to time we get short periods of hot weather. This has been true all through recorded history and it is most definitely not ‘getting worse’. Even the most cursory glance through weather reports from 100 or 200 years ago will amply demonstrate this simple fact. Indeed an argument can be made that the last forty years have been relatively benign. Weather related casualties have also dropped to all time lows, certainly compared to the 19th and early 20th centuries. Fewer people are dying from weather related disasters than at any time in recorded history. Isn’t that a good thing?

All the stuff the mainstream media and certain politicians blither on about isn’t happening. Islands are not sinking under the waves. Sea levels stubbornly refuse to rise and drown us all. Fossil fuels like oil and coal have had the fingers of doom pointed at them and nothing bad happens. Now cow farts have been blamed for the non-existent ‘climate crisis’, Yet still the weather does what the weather does and there is no correlation between reality and the scary output of data models.

Outside my window, two of our local hares are hopping around in recently cut grass, a flock of small birds and a solitary Rook are searching the ground for insects. I can hear Magpies and Crows arguing. The grass is green and for a change the air is still, as are the blades of the Wind turbines over the county border in Galway. My bees are coming out of their hives to start the days nectar and pollen gathering. Two of our local Wagtails are courting and the Swallows are feeding on the wing, swooping elegantly through the air.

Despite all the dramatic ‘red warnings’, birds have failed to fall from the sky. The hay crop is in. Sunday promises to be a really pleasant warm day. A day to relax and enjoy this short lived hiatus. Sit out and catch a few rays to bolster my immune system. I don’t think we’re going to get another Summer like 1976, but two or three warm dry periods this year would be just the ticket.

Me, I’ve switched off the TV and radio, picked a couple of books, and I’m going off to enjoy myself. I’ve got some suncream. Catch you on the flip side.

The real S.P.E.C.T.R.E.

Setting the world to rights over morning coffee. Mrs S and I fell to discussing the evils of the world and what might be done about it.

Anyone familiar with the Bond movie franchise should be familiar with the organisation known as the ‘Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion’ or S.P.E.C.T.R.E. Put simply they appear to be a cabal of rich psychopaths making their money from all the crimes under the sun (Sound familiar?). This international gangster / corporation committed acts of murder and terrorism to manipulate financial markets. They owned politicians at all levels. They unleashed deadly plagues upon the populace in order to amass wealth and power. They promoted war, discord and unrest. All for their profit and their ‘new world order’.

Yet even so, I’ve always felt that there was something honest about The fictional S.P.E.C.T.R.E.’s mendacity and greed. For them it was always about money. Steal a nuclear bomb? Pay S.P.E.C.T.R.E. and get it back, undetonated (Cross our hearts and hope to die, Terrapins tickle us if we lie sort of thing). They owned the drug trade and illicit money laundering. All they wanted was money.

The new S.P.E.C.T.R.E. by contrast is operating out in the open. They not only own many Western politicians, their acolytes get appointed to high government office. The EU is full of them. Indeed all western countries governments are infected with their ideology. And these are people involved in attempts at land theft, perverting the law, and all sorts of other criminal activity. Well, at least it would be if it was anyone but a Government doing it.

Apropos of nothing; just so we should all be aware of what we’re dealing with, I’ve taken the liberty of updating their super secret logo. At least it’s more honest than they are.

But can we identify any of these evil people? At the lower levels we can’t because they are often indoctrinated family members who aren’t self aware enough to realise the evil that they do. Particularly in the mainstream media, where self awareness doesn’t seem to be a plus. Even those at the upper echelons don’t see the evil because they are too invested in what they see as the ‘solutions’. Part of that ‘solution’ is the ESG philosophy. The ‘Environmental, Social and Governance’ ratings.

So; this ESG rating. What is it and who sets them? It’s interesting to note that Tesla (Greenest of the Green – if you believe the hype) recently got pushed out of the top 500 ESG companies while most of the major oil and gas companies remain (Definitely not ‘Green’ at all-despite vigorous ‘greenwashing‘).

Which would suggest to the more sceptical investor that ESG nowadays has more to do with lip service to ‘woke’ politics than the real business of making a profit to benefit their employees, customers and investors. Frankly, if I am asked to invest in a company that makes a big deal about it’s ESG rating, my money goes elsewhere.

On that topic, Elon Musk has been upsetting the ‘woke’ and they have responded by kicking his companies out of the top 500 as one way of getting back at him. Because the ‘woke’ have no moral brakes. Their cult of hate, because that is what it is, thrives not on tolerance or celebrating our differences, because like it or not, we are all born different, but from ever increasing divisiveness. And you’d have to be really dense not to see where all that is coming from.

To see the proofs that the real S.P.E.C.T.R.E. does this is simply to watch their interviews and TED talks, The new S.P.E.C.T.R.E. is, like the Nazis before them, overt Eugenicists. They even have people with connections to the Nazis our forefathers (My parents and their contemporaries) fought and defeated in the mid 20th century. They want the earths human population reduced to 500 million. But only the ‘little’ people, like you or me, will get to do the dying. The members and associates of this evil cabal get to do the killing. Either by stripping people of their agency and property or by blunt force.

Now we’ve seen examples of the blunt force in action both in London UK, Amsterdam, Netherlands and Ontario Canada. Police baton charges on clearly non-violent demonstrations, non-violent demonstrators shot at and trampled. Yet when it comes to overtly violent organisations like BLM and Antifa, both catspaws of the corrupt and powerful, so many like them too often get a free pass when they riot and burn neighbourhoods. This is well documented.

The new S.P.E.C.T.R.E. are a collection of fascist organisations by any twist of the imagination. Like the fascist movements of the mid 20th century they are fanatical ‘Greens’. Go look up their stance on the fictional man made global warming.

Like other national socialists before them, they fund biological warfare. Don’t think so? Who has been funding biological labs all over the world looking at ‘gain of function‘ for deadly diseases? It ain’t the tooth fairy baby.

So who are they? Names please Mr Sticker. Name them or turn in your tinfoil hat. The names are public domain. Bilderberg, Davos, Rockefeller Foundation, Open Borders, Tides Foundation and all it’s associated NGO’s. The ‘World Economic Forum’ founded by an avowed Nazi and supported by their ‘Junior Leader’ programme. These are the new S.P.E.C.T.R.E., and they’re running the place now. Through influence peddling and lobbying they’ve been doing it with taxpayer dollar. Trying to steal our property, our livelihoods, with our freaking money.

Calling Mr Bond. James Bond. We have a little job for you. Although maybe the head of this crazy cabal doesn’t look like he’s aged so well…

Which begs another question; how do you go about pensioning off a Supervillain? Answers via the dead drop in Berkeley Square, London.

I’m not a saviour…

“What do you do?” I was asked today.

“Mostly I move money and keep bees.” I replied.

“You keep bees?” They seemed pleased to hear this. “So you’re helping save the planet?”

I smiled gently and tried to keep a straight face. The planet is fine. It doesn’t need a saviour, and least of all me. I just nodded and smiled while the eejit in front of me waxed lyrical about how vital bees are to agriculture and how important beekeepers are. Eventually I managed to extricate myself without bursting into fits of giggles.

‘Planet saver’ my cute and furry arse. The whole beekeeping thing was a complete fluke. We’d put a bid on our current house and land long before I even thought of keeping bees. I knew I didn’t want to keep livestock and Mrs S wanted a wildflower meadow so the whole bee thing came out of that. We wanted to do something integrated that wouldn’t be too much work and had a nice end product, like honey, mead and distilled mead. So bees and honey fitted the bill nicely. That and I’ve always been a conservationist at heart and have been ‘growing my own’ since I was a toddler. Indeed, one of my most cherished memories is still being in nappies (diapers) and Ma teaching me how to put seeds in a little furrow. I think they were carrot seeds.

The whole ‘saving the planet’ bullshit is just complete nonsense. A complete load of cheap, badly patched flannel. Bees are needed for pollination and that makes more flowers, fruit and vegetables. Which lets me use the knowledge culled from my ‘O’ level biology classes. That and I find growing things calms the spirit and steadies the soul. my motives are purely selfish.

As for the planet, frankly I don’t think it is at risk. At least not anything we mere humans can do anything about. We’re just the tenants, for the moment, and as long as we don’t burn the feckin place down in a stupid war, it’ll keep ticking over nicely until we all go extinct from our own stupidity. Or at least until our planets core solidifies and Earth ends up like Mars. Or a meteorite triggers a massive ice age.

Won’t need any help from me. Whatever. I won’t live to see the end of the world. The only people who do want to see our little blue green marble die are immature self aggrandising drama queens who like the idea of starring in a horror movie no-one will ever see.

No wonder Aliens ride through our solar system with their windows wound up and the doors securely locked.

I declare this day….

Today my friends we are on the cusp of a new era. A bright new dawn awakens us to the new reality. I, Bill Sticker, of this Parish and resident in Ireland, do declare August 2022 to be “Global no pronouns month“.

During August 2022 we declare this blog will be a pronoun-free area. Readers may address the host and other commenters in whatsoever fashion they wish, regardless of assumed or implied gender or identity. We guarantee that no offence will be taken. Indeed we wish to encourage friendly discourse by dropping all gender identities or pronouns for the foreseeable future.

When entering comments, we would like to encourage our reader to use whatever friendly terms of address they see fit. “Sunshine”, “Chum”, “Mate” are all more than acceptable, and we will even refuse to take umbrage if challenged with “Oy, you” or even “F*ckface”.

No one will be reported to the cops for ‘hate crimes’, and we will refuse to allow the farces of law and disorder to prosecute by submitting letters to any given court stating that no offence was sought, taken or given by the use of such language.

The use of silly made up pronouns is, in turn, forbidden. All reference to said pronouns will be deleted / amended with a suitable retort in the comments by the blog owner. We retain full editorial control.

While we do not care what your name is, or however you wish to describe yourself, we would ask all contributors and commenters to keep those personal details to themselves. Regardless of assumed gender or sexuality.

In short, the attitude of this blog is “F*ck your moronic made up pronouns”. and “Take your freak show elsewhere.”

This has been a public service announcement.

Quote of the day

I was talking to a neighbour and the topic of carbon mitigation came up, because that’s something the politicians are very keen on. Neighbour vouchsafed;

“Ach, these politicians trying to tell us they can control the weather. They can’t control the contents of their own trousers now, can they?”

I almost fell off the wall laughing.