Tag Archives: Irreverence

Where have all the Eagles gone…..?

From the very talented Minnesotans for Global Warming

H/T Jo Nova

No wonder we get Bald Eagles and Peregrine Falcons hanging around over my landladies suburban chicken coop. The wind farm up island is just too dangerous an environment for them. Maybe that’s why the Cougars and Bears are heading into our locale, they’re pissed off with the whoosh-whum noise of the bloody things.

The End

Well it might be. On the other hand probably not. But…

Nothing to do with me folks, I didn’t break it, but according to some obscure religious fruitcake scholar, the world is going to end today. No, this particular doomsaying is not from the Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Pope, United Nations, David Suzuki or Al Gore (This time), it’s some obscure Bible thumping sect called the eBible Fellowship. Well, they’re from Philadelphia, what do you expect?

Apparently the world is about to be obliterated by fire or something. So I thought I’d take a look around. It’s raining out, so that should damp things down a bit. Everything’s so wet over here you couldn’t light it with Napalm. Riiight, so I meandered over the a couple of relatively reputable information sources like Spaceweather.com. Any killer asteroids heading our way? No. Oh well, are the seas about to rise and cover the land, leaving a lot of beached fish and the odd annoyed crab? No. Not in this epoch. Not unless the moon gets hit by something at least half its own size and buggers up the tides. Rogue black holes? Sorry to disappoint, but none have been spotted. At least not in our spur of the galactic arm. A glitch with the Large Hadron Collider? Nope. Just finished an upgrade. No sign of a Vogon Constructor Fleet, either. Is God so pissed with us he’s going to throw a cosmic fireball our way? I gave him a quick call; “End of the world Bill?” He said. “Not on my to do list.” Well if an omnipotent being says he knows nothing about it….. Besides, we’re going fishing this Thanksgiving weekend, as God says, just to get away from all the bloody prayers. I also have it on good authority that the four horsemen of the apocalypse are booked for a Gymkhana for the rest of the week.

So, is the world really going to end? We’ll know in six hours or so. I could take the day off, but I’m just too darned busy for an apocalypse.

Must be a Wednesday. Never could quite get a handle on Wednesdays…. Hi ho. Back to the ennui.

Update: Yay! I’ve filled up my Apocalypse gift card! This means I get a free end of the world next time. Huzzah!
Apocalypse gift card I was looking for the full set, but only got my gift card after the Gordon Brown token had been withdrawn from issue.

Grand plans and statistics

When I saw the advert about the United Nations SAWA plan in the cinema the other day, my bullshit antenna buzzed madly. See advert below. I would advise either of my readers to have a sick bucket on standby before viewing. It’s that false and saccharine.

Now apart from Richard Curtis’ cute fluffified animals talking about such nebulous nonsense as ‘promoting Social Justice’, ‘ending World Poverty’ and ‘Tackling Climate Change’ after arriving at the UN in very expensive limousines, I was moved to wonder; how does all these high level diplomats having all the best stuff and the ‘carbon footprint’ of a million Soviet era tractor factories each ‘solve’ anything? Then I thought I’d consult the views of someone who can demonstrate, often with the UN’s own data, what the state of economic change is from the 1960’s to today. That source is Dr Hans Rosling, the brains behind Gapminder.org See one of his many TED talks below. This particular twenty minuter is from 2006.

He’s worth watching. Especially on the global economic and health improvements from 1960 to the present day.

Now, you might ask; if all this information is public domain based on the UN’s own information; why are the UN trying to convince us to fix ‘problems’ that are already being fixed, without UN intervention, by simple market economics and the growth of freedom? Or, as my cynicism posits, are they trying to set up a claim that they ‘fixed’ stuff that was already being fixed by free(ish) trade and globalisation of markets? Hmm…..

Update: Just as an afterthought. The UN might be proposing robbing the ‘rich’ (People who can’t move their money fast enough – ) to aid the ‘poor’ (Those who whine the most about impoverishment – not necessarily ‘poor’ people), but what they actually end up doing is enriching themselves. Sometimes they even get caught……

So what’s a feminazi?

This is a question that’s been bugging me for a while. I’ve been hearing this particular neologism of an adjective bandied around for quite a while, so I gave the Igors down at the adjective testing department of the Bill Sticker Institute for just messing around with words a call. “Oh that.” Said Igor, current project leader, in weary tones. “It’s just a rather crude insult Boss, not even worth getting out the Thesaurus to swat it with.”
“Well, you might think that, but I couldn’t possibly comment.” I replied. “It’s got a lot of Interweb types hot under the collar and shouting angrily at everyone they meet.”
“Oh all right, Boss. It’s only Sunday.” He grumbled, but I could hear the voices behind him. Some of the lads were bored and fancied a bit of a (maniacal) laugh. Even on a Sunday.

A few hours later, their analysis is on my desk. The term is (obviously) a contraction of ‘Feminist Nazi’, used to describe certain public feminists who say wild and wacky tinfoil hat stuff like “Cull the male population” because all us male humans are so uncouth and tewwibly wuff don’cha know.Sidewalk shadow Generally being a ‘couth‘ sort of chap, I think this is not sufficient justification for culling anyone, and Mrs S would no doubt have a few stern words with anyone who tried to ‘cull’ her considerate and loving husband (Her words, not mine). She’s very possessive, and my beloved sometimes displays a hair trigger temper hot enough to scorch shadows onto sidewalks (See inset picture.) I love her to bits. Even if I have to step in to save her from herself sometimes.

To distil the analysis, those to whom the ‘Feminazi’ descriptor may be most accurately applied seem mostly to be unattractive (Mentally or physically) Socialist Academic types who deliver courses for commercially worthless degrees on ‘Gender studies’. Or according to a graffito often found in University toilets next to the toilet roll holders; ‘Liberal Arts degrees; please wash hands after use‘. Essentially displaying that the belief that their specific view (Which is usually about as ‘feminine’ as a pair of my Marcus Expensius Y-fronts) should rule supreme, and all us males are going to be casualties. Then when all men are slaughtered, or subdued and stripped of our troublesome gonads, everyone can (safely) stride ‘forward’ under the banner of ‘Progressivism’ which is the philosophy that promises wholesale theft of personal property, and no drink or drugs allowed to take the edge off its bleak nihilism. Unless you’re one of the self selected ‘elite’ of course. Then you become one of the ‘Alpha’ class, and you get to lord it over all the other zeebs, even if you’re one of those who need staff to help you find your own arsehole in the morning. Then huzzah! There will be world peace, apart from when the new Alpha prima donna class get squabbling over the morning concepts, then bring in their private security to duff up the opposition, or at least claim they’ve been rude and horrid and must therefore have their Alpha membership (and if necessary their gonads) forcibly removed at gunpoint. Then hordes of conditioned warriors will be primed to beat up the opposition for daring to ask them to pass the toast without saying please or licking the Socialist Academics boots. Which rather sums up the tone of public discourse on these topics.

Such beliefs as modern progressivism, and extreme ‘Feminism’ can therefore be seen to be firmly rooted in supremacist doctrines, which, as any psychologist will tell you, are themselves firmly rooted in near-monolithic inferiority complexes. Or in other words “I know best, so shut up Pleb and do what you’re told, or you’ll never work in this town again.” Which is just as bad as (if not worse than) the ‘sexist’ all-women-are-property-bend-over-my-sweetness medieval world view.

What these radical types miss by a country mile is that men and women have different skill sets, and are (obviously-duh) differently equipped from a biological standpoint. Therefore neither sex can be viewed as ‘superior’. Some men will always be better at some things than some women and vice versa. Individuals have differing strengths. Humans are not born to be ‘equal’. This is a simple observation, so simple that these highly educated Academic Social Justice types cannot comprehend it. Even if you were to figuratively take hold of their head and forcibly point their eyes in the right direction. However, giving everyone a fair shake regardless of genetic inheritance is a good idea, because everyone’s abilities, aims and objectives are different. Let everyone achieve as they may. The SJW’s and radical feminists think that ‘Social Justice’ (Which does not really exist) can be enforced by the heavy, Godzilla-like hand of the state. Unfortunately, involving the state in anything as delicate as the nuances of human liberty is an accident waiting to happen because one size does not, never has and never will fit all.

As for ‘Feminazi’, this term can only be applied to the quota demanding, men hating (Why? Don’t know, care even less) loveless nutjobs. Regular feminists, who only ask for an equal chance to prove they can do a specific task as well as their male counterpart and want to earn their say, are fine by me. Just don’t demand that the standards are lowered or ‘quotas’ applied to allow the less able to push the able aside. That never works. That’s not meritocracy, it’s mediocrity.

Warm is good

Curry night in the Sticker Household tonight, with guests. So we’re going to go the full nine yards, poppadoms, a little mint raita and Major Greys Mango chutney. Cocktails, followed by a modest but economical Malbec for quaffing. There may be cheesecake. After that I’m going to fade into the back room to let Mrs S and sisters chew the fat, or more often these days, the fat free. Whatever.

Still blogging at a much reduced level because there’s so little I want to blog about. The sun is shining, the skies are blue, and I’m feeling quite relaxed about everything. Even if my little office overlooking the garden is a little chilly first thing. Once I’ve been in there for a couple of hours it’s cosy enough. Still waiting for this global warming to turn up, failing that my cheque for being a ‘shill for the fossil fuels industry’, or my arrest for being a ‘denier’. Not that I’m holding my breath you understand. I think a late January break in Hawaii or somewhere warm is on the cards. I like warm, warm is good.

So, what’s in the news? Volkswagen have become ‘Smokeswagen’ after being caught cheating on their emissions test. The penalty for which is having your green pass removed and sent to the headmasters office for a quick spanking with your share prices around your ankles.

The current middle eastern refugee crisis is full of people we’re all supposed to feel very sorry for, even if a goodly proportion may want to see us western types and our culture ground under the heel of religious repression. It may mean the end of free movement across European borders as countries like Hungary stick up massive razor wire fences and drop their Schengen treaty obligations like a hot rock. Oh well, at least it will increase employment opportunities for border guard work. Perhaps some of these new wannabe immigrants might be considered for all the new customs and immigration jobs this will create? Germany seems to have some vacancies.

Yes, and more inconveniently, Skype fell over big time yesterday. Well what do you expect? It’s owned by Microsoft, which is one of the reasons I won’t buy Ford. All the onboard satnag and stuff on the Escape for example, have been running on Microsoft for a while. It’s what steered me away from buying one and towards a Subaru instead.

The more observant of either of my readers might observe that the header image has been adjusted. Our motley crew of Igors slaved day and night for at least half an hour to make the ‘improvement’ which saves me having to post the ‘trigger warning’ graphic all the time because this whole site can be considered to be chock full of ‘triggers’, but not Roy Rogers. Incidentally, that old joke was found in a Downtown Thrift Store, where it has been hidden (Some would say rightly so) for over thirty years. As for the ‘no soliciting’ rule, well, that has been covered on the comments policy page.

Offended? Oh I do hope so.

The last word on Trigger Warnings

Excuse the lack of blog activity, but a new tranche of my Pratchett hardback collection arrives next week and I’m busy catching up on my re-reading of the last batch. Yes, like with my ‘Hitchhikers guide to the Galaxy’ collection I can almost quote them all off by heart, but it’s not the same as having the real paper and board thing in your hands. Seeing the same old gags and laughing at them in the same old way. It never gets old. I’m just saddened that he will write no more.

As a matter of interest, I always reckon Terry only ever had one real competitor in comic fantasy, Tom Holt, who has written books like the very funny ‘Expecting someone taller’. I recommend him to anyone capable of appreciating fantasy humour.

Trigger warningAnyway, I was watching a few YouTube videos about so-called ‘trigger warnings’ being used to suppress the opinions of others, and the following thought sprang to mind; all these people who complain about microagressions and all that jazz, what’s it all about? In the spirit of enquiry, I did a little reading through some serious scholarly texts on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and found out where the whole ‘trigger warnings’ meme originated. Well, chums, here’s the skinny; if you don’t have post traumatic stress disorder or an associated debilitation, ‘trigger warnings’ are imaginary. Yup; you got it, only a person suffering from a genuine traumatic mental stress disorder needs ‘trigger warnings’. Anyone else is bullshitting worse than a herd of pedigree Charolais Steers with the trots. Or should that be Bullock shitting, as you can’t really say that Cows, Heifers or Steers are non-castrated male bovines? A.k.a. Bulls. Therefore the excreta of uncastrated male cattle cannot justifiably be called ‘bullshit’, but I digress.

In other words, if someone who has not suffered severe mental trauma claims that a text or speech needs to be suppressed because it causes them some vague personal mental discomfort – they are, by their own admission, suffering from a mental dysfunction and in need of treatment. In which case they should be gently led away into a quiet room where they don’t have to see or hear anything that might upset them. Can’t stand the text? Maybe it’s time to get out of the classroom.

Perhaps these non-PTSD types would be happier if their Interweb and TV access were cut off so the poor darlings wouldn’t have to look at anything upsetting? Perhaps a small room with soft walls might be more their speed? Maybe a private walled garden full of nice trees fluffy squirrels and cute kittens, puppies and lovely songbirds to soothe their untrammelled but strangely troubled souls? Oh. Hang on a minute, that wouldn’t work as the kittens would chase the lovely songbirds and cute squirrels and leave claw marks in the trees after digging up the flower beds and crapping amongst all the lovely flowers while the puppies chewed at anything capable of being masticated, barked at the kittens chasing the birds and killing the mice, frogs, trees and flowers so that the peace of the garden would be so terribly stressful that the afflicted would have to hide their faces and plug their ears and noses. Just so they wouldn’t be ‘triggered’ by anything they saw, heard or smelled? It might rain. The sun might burn their skin. The sun might not shine and they’d get really depressed by all the grey skies. Never mind the hay fever and being eaten, bitten and stung by all the insects. OMG! Was that a spider! Gardens are so STRESSFUL!

Ah. Yes. Not such a fantastic idea after all. On the other hand, perhaps a little growing up on their part might be in order? In the words of the late, great St Terence of the Pratchett; it’s a million to one chance, but it might just work.

Another weapon in the Victimhood arsenal

Institute for dead horse floggingA message has been received from the lads down at the Bill Sticker Academy for Dead Horse Flogging (I thought they’d all retired, but there you go), about a relatively new practice called being ‘Ghosted’ or ‘Ghosting’. Actually it’s not new at all. Apparently in some journo’s lexicon to be ‘ghosted‘ is to be ‘dumped’. Specifically having a relationship truncated for reasons not made clear to the person who is being dumped and further contact denied. You know the sort of thing, ex has dumped all your emails in their spam filter, they’ve changed their telephone number and gone ex directory, changed job, moved with no forwarding address, run away to sea, joined a circus, a monastery or became a Nun.

It happens. People walk out on relationships every day and there’s nothing remarkable about it. That said, it’s no fun getting dumped with your ex refusing to talk to you any more, but there are perfectly good words for it rather than taking another word and painting it in rainbow colours for the aggrieved victimhood industry. Just for the sake of a piece of complete and utter Fark.

The rest of us understand that dumping occurs when one half of a relationship decides that enough is enough and it’s time to bail out. Whether the reasons given are good or not is always very subjective and not worth making a federal case out of. Which is probably what those claiming to have been ‘Ghosted’ want. They want a new legal tool to bloodlessly beat ex-partners into submission with even if erstwhile whatever think the ‘Ghosted’ are too much of a flaming nuisance to bother talking to any more. What the perpetually aggrieved want is a way for those of the ‘bunny boiler’ persuasion or perennially annoying (Which might be a gentle hint as to why someone got dumped in the first place) to enforce contact long after the rabbit is dead. Even though the world has turned and the ghosts have given up on whatever feeling there once was (at least for one party) and buggered off to haunt somewhere else. My advice? If whoever won’t take your calls after a week or so and has changed their number and details, move on. They’re not worth the heartache. Unless they’ve got your property or money, in which case may I advise hiring a decent lawyer.

We live in an age where language is becoming ever more of a lottery. Everyone wants to stake a claim in ‘cool’ (Whatever that is) and make a word or phrase their own. Even if it does sprain your grammar (And put a crimp in poor old Grandpa). However in this particular case I’d say they’re selling metaphorical Belgian beefburgers. It doesn’t matter how you dress it up, getting dumped is just that. A full stop in the story of a relationship. Changing the language to justify chasing after an ex is a truly bad idea because if they cared about how you felt they wouldn’t have dumped you, right? My advice? Don’t flog a dead horse. Lovers are like taxis. It may take some time and effort to flag another one down, but it will pay off with a comfortable ride, if of course you’re willing to take the necessary leap(s) of faith with your eyes wide open this time. You just have to get out more. To change metaphors, it doesn’t mean you have to ride a lot of horses until you find your My Little Pony, but there’s a lot to be said for hanging around the right (for a given value of ‘right’) paddock and just checking stuff out before making a bid.

Being ‘dumped’ therefore shouldn’t be viewed as a totally negative event. Looked at properly it’s actually a time for personal growth and new opportunities. Even if the miserable bitch / bastard in question won’t take your calls. You’re probably better off without them. No matter what words you use.

MH370 Found?

Aircraft debris has been reported washed up on the French colonial outpost of Réunion which could be the remains of missing flight MH370.

If they are, that would seem to confirm the most credible theory advanced by a professional pilot shortly after the crash. That theory being that a fire in the cockpit electrical systems known to plague older and less well maintained 777-200’s incapacitated the crew shortly after take-off. The crew managing to put the plane on autopilot before they passed out, automatically setting course for the nearest airport. Which it missed, flying on the same heading until it ran out of fuel. Meaning that the plane ditched a thousand or so miles west of Australia where the debris would have eventually been picked up by the Indian Ocean current and deposited on the beach at Réunion. If this is so, the same current should start depositing floating debris on the south eastern shore of Madagascar within the next few weeks or so. After another week or two, bits might even fetch up on Mozambique’s and South Africa’s shores. Which should give the crash investigators, with the help of some oceanographers, a better idea of where MH370’s cockpit recorders ended up. Google Maps has an interesting little map based timeline here, where all the reports and possible sightings of debris have been collated.

No conspiracy theories were consulted in the construction of this post. Mainly because the people who come up with the weird shit about alien abductions, stray black holes caused by the Large Hadron Collider and terrorists without a shred of credible evidence are probably (as always) ‘off their meds’.

Have a nice day, y’all.

Update 5th August 2015: Press conference has confirmed debris found is that of MH370. Also, a researcher at a German University has claimed that the search zone for the main crash site can be narrowed down by identifying the species of Goose Barnacles found attached to the debris. Link to press release and Youtube video of presentation (in German alas, but the closed caption translation is perfectly hilarious) here.

Happy Canada Day

Canada Flag Happy Canada dayTo my Canadian reader. And to the rest of you, regardless of where you are on the planet. Unfortunately, we’ll be spending a good part of our afternoon hanging around hospitals, so we’ll miss most of the downtown fun.

The good news is that we’ll be done and dusted in time to see the Fireworks, and I know exactly where we’ll be. There’s this great vantage point no-one else knows about, right at the….. argh! (Sound of struggling followed by a suspicious silence)

Sorry about that reader, he was about to give the game away, and we do so hate being crowded out of our favourite downtown vantage points. We’re afraid Bill has been getting a little…. too feisty of late, now he has to go back to his padded cell. We apologise for any inconvenience, or lack thereof…..