A few notes on vegetarianism

Awakening to a thunderstorm this morning and seeing some of the news from the UK, I see the net zero insanity is accelerating. Certain councils unanimously voting to go vegetarian at all their functions. Which I suppose is one form of cutting costs, or not when the majority is thrown away. Or keeping the naysayers away because they can’t stand the food.

Experience however, has shown that this is a strategy with a very short shelf life. Even over in hippy drippy west coast BC. In the UK – I give it five minutes, no matter how the vote went. Many people will either stop going to council functions, or order in their own sandwiches. The private sector may also restrict it’s engagement with said councils.

Opening declaration; I have no personal issue with vegetarian of vegan food. However, one man’s meat etcetera. Our daughter ‘North’ is a vegetarian, but she’s quite relaxed for me to have a steak at the same table (Which is generous, seeing as it’s my bloody table). She’ll even cook chicken for the family when she takes her turn at the stove face. So no real issues. She’s not intolerant and violently anti-meat, like far too many of her co-dietists. She is also sensible enough to have long time friends in the farming community.

Unfortunately, there is a predominantly female public sector clique, shitting the bed over the climate crisis that will never be, pushing their own vitamin and mineral deficient fad diets on others. I think they must be deficient in certain fatty acids which are vital for full brain tissue function.

Vegetarianism itself is okay as a subsistence diet, but it has been observed that people brought up full time on such a diet never attain the full physical stature of omnivores, This is because such a dietary regimen is deficient in vitamin B(12), vitamin D, Omega-3 fatty acids, calcium, iron, and zinc. Anaemia is common, as are a number of other diet based deficiency conditions. As for veganism, well, those people need supplements to stay healthy. Unfortunately you will never convince them otherwise as their brains won’t function fully without the full spectrum of proteins, fatty acids, vitamins and minerals in readily digestible forms. Even ‘North’ has fish once a week, which makes up for her abstinence. And she also eats eggs regularly, which helps keep B12 deficiency at bay.

At this point the average vegan activist might point at fast food outlets, claiming that meat is the culprit for all forms of social ills. And it is true that the carbohydrate and sugar rich concoctions served from such establishments are not a ‘healthy option’, as Morgan Spurlock found during his ‘super size me’ experiment back in 2004 where the 32-year-old Spurlock gained 24.5 pounds (11.1 kg) in weight (a 13% body mass increase). Increasing his cholesterol to 230 mg/dL (6.0 mmol/L), also experiencing mood swings, sexual dysfunction, and fat accumulation in his liver.

On the other hand, a proper mixed home cooked diet with modest amounts of meat, fish fruit and vegetables is beneficial and less expensive overall than eating out at fast food outlets. Yes it requires a little effort and requires a little in the way of preparation skills, however, such a diet is better for you than either subsisting off fast food or a fully vegetarian diet.

But apparently the activists aren’t getting the message because their neural pathways aren’t running at 100%. However, their influence will only last until the electorate vote in people with the wisdom to allow everyone to eat as they see fit, and not force their fad diets upon everyone else.

Shortages

We’ve noticed in local supermarket, a little notice stating that due to ‘poor growing conditions in Spain and Morocco’ certain fruits like Blueberries and Raspberries are sporadically not available. Apparently this is due to snow where snow doesn’t normally fall (Is this a form of ‘White supremacy’?). Having spent a New Year or two in southern Spain, my observation is the weather said region normally gets is cool and dry. At least in Almeria. Can’t speak for Morocco, having never spent much time there.

I’ve also noticed that certain other foodstuffs keep disappearing and reappearing from Supermarket shelves like NPC’s in video games. Also due to unseasonally cold weather, despite the occasional claim of ‘highest temperature evah’ from the alarmists. Oh for heavens sake people, give it up, you’re wrong.

However, eggs aren’t a problem over here in the wilder west of Ireland (We buy direct from a nearby farm), nor are tomatoes, but various other shortages are way too erratic to monitor properly and availability varies greatly from store to store. They vary from week to week.

As an aside, I got a very small crop of tomatoes last year, because growing conditions were so poor, it wasn’t a great harvest, hence my construction of a greenhouse by fitting our open sided shed with glass panels. Last year my beets did well, carrots non existent and as for brassicas, forget it, the slugs and cabbage white larvae did for them, while Spring onions thrived.

So this year everything is being swapped into a warmer and more protected environment for better pest control and cropping. I’ll also be putting old fashioned kerosene lamps in for a little extra heat and light. Just to take the chill off during early Spring. Should aid germination, and I’m getting off the mark faster this year, not like last, when I was almost two months late sowing seeds due to our building works.

First panels of toughened glass go in shortly, and should shortly see completion of the first two sides with heavy polythene screens to close off the Northern end by early next week when the planting shelves and hanging decks go up. Then in the first two weeks of March I start sowing seeds. First hive inspections about mid month, weather permitting, with supers to catch first nectar flow when it happens in April, and first honey crop in late May.

Then there’s the chickens later this year (Or early next) when the fuss over bird flu has subsided, Just a dozen or so fowl should do it. Although I may well find myself joining an illegal band of egg traders, smuggling to the UK.

But seriously folks, most of these shortages are due to cock up rather than conspiracy, as our mostly clueless crop of modern politicians couldn’t run a bath properly, yet insist on trying to do so. But desperately clinging onto the belief that they know it all, when patently they haven’t an effing clue how to do anything but get elected.

For proof one only has to look at how the Scots Nats snatched defeat from the jaws of victory, as has the UK government over BREXIT. Although those eejits in Dublin and the rest of Europe aren’t any better. They’re all so busy scrabbling for minority votes and importing the undocumented to keep labour costs down that they’ve lost track of what’s important, and have to go stumbling off to Davos to hear the crazy ideas of a bunch of fascist weirdo’s. I would call the WEFters mad, but they’ve got pots of money, so they’re best just described as highly eccentric.

Ultimately this means these sporadic shortages will continue. More of an inconvenience than an emergency really. Unless you absolutely, really like turnips. Which personally I don’t.

So today Mrs S and I raided the wholesale nursery and came away with four fruit trees, ten fruit bushes (Raspberry canes, Blueberry bushes, Blackcurrant plants and Redcurrant bushes ) and another twenty assorted shrubs for our garden. This years seeds have been purchased, with an automated watering system in the new greenhouse to follow. Cost? Less than the price of a two weekly food shop for an average family, less my time and labour. What this will save us overall will be the aggravation of finding depleted vegetable shelves in the supermarket.

As for the salad veg, supply should pick up in late May / early June in the UK as local growers pick up the slack. However, whether they care to sell to the big supermarkets, with all the slim margins and tight specifications, may be a moot point.

Another day…

And a bit of good news. Both my colonies of bees have survived the cold weather and have been foraging in the gorse and heather in the garden and hedgerows. Work has started on the greenhouse project and we’ve chopped most of the bloody Ivy down.

Elsewhere the globalist projects of unchecked illegal immigration and ‘fifteen minute cities’ are under pressure with protests popping up all over Ireland. The ordinary people are getting upset. Not the media myth of the ‘far right’, but everyday, ordinary people without a political thought in their head. Until now.

That’s right. Ordinary people watching familiar streets being invaded by outsiders at a faster rate than the outsiders can be comfortably assimilated. As an outsider myself, I’m always at pains to observe the social norms of anywhere I happen to end up. Within reason.

Like with the wilder west of Ireland. I’m not a Catholic, but many of my new friends and neighbours are, so you respect that.

However, for the people who do not respect our ways of life, there is a way to at least make your voice heard, at least in the UK, See below for pushback strategies on three critical ‘consultation documents’,

If you can’t be arsed, then don’t whine about it later. The path is lit but requires a little effort. On the other hand, if you don’t want your liberty, all you have to do is stay quiet, like a good little citizen in your pod. Owning nothing and unable to take a shit without permission.

To those that argue “They wouldn’t do that, would they?” I would reply “Oh yes ‘they’ bloody well will. Because ‘they’ can if you let them.”

Getting your own back

Busy clearing trees and shrubs today, opening up the garden a bit more and getting ready for the removal of about ten overgrown Leylandii. While Mrs S was telling me how to cut down trees, a task I have successfully performed on various occasions for several decades without supervision, my mind wandered onto the topic of these insane ‘fifteen minute cities’ and how to fight back against this insult to liberty.

Protesting seems to do no good, as the eco-zealot instigators seem so convinced of their rightness that they will ignore any heartfelt pleas and go ahead anyway. If pressed they may simply label the opposition ‘domestic terrorists’ and carry on regardless.

However, one idea that did occur to me while hauling branches was to surreptitiously obtain the vehicle registration numbers of the people responsible for instituting and enforcing these unfair regulations and stick copies of them over the number plates of several random other vehicles in the area, or perhaps the next zone over.

Now given how rarely most people actually look at their own vehicle registrations, this would seem a wizard wheeze if well done. It would certainly make a nonsense of the automated camera enforcement. Because if offending councillors / officials vehicles start racking up multiple fines without going anywhere it might give them cause to reconsider their ill judged authoritarianism.

Those intent on making mischief for the offending instigator might even simply walk past a few ANPR cameras with a copy of an offending councillors number plate emblazoned on their back while walking the dog, identity perhaps concealed by a large hat and scarf. If the cops show up, the number plate sign could be readily discarded, or even left in a place where the ANPR cameras would keep registering the number, and the rest left to the automated system generating thousands in fines for the net zero advocates, overloading the system. Interested parties might even share number plates so that the eco zealots get fined from multiple fifteen minute cities.

The glory of this jolly jape is that a crime will not have taken place. Well, not really. Knowing what I do about how these systems work, it is apparent to me that all sorts of entertainment might be had without going anywhere near the offending eco-zealot, or anything which might be construed as stalking. All that needs to happen is that their own systems are turned against the most deserving.

Bankrupt the net zero bastards, say I. It’s only what they deserve. For those unfortunate to get caught in the fifteen minute trap, it’s called getting your own back.

Let the games begin. This could be fun.

That Trans question

While clearing the last of the old decking and prepping the area for the new rose beds, I found myself pondering about this whole trans business. All the agonised cries of ‘misgendering’ and so forth. Also the desire to be considered ‘real women’ and be allowed into hitherto inappropriate places like women’s changing rooms. That and protecting biological women from the predations of the faux-trans, i.e. males who just put on a dress and claim this is all it takes. It seems to me there is a logical and relatively low cost solution that can be applied to the satisfaction of all. Well possibly.

This may upset some people for various reasons, but upsetting a few people seems to be a hobby of mine. And in my perambulations through YouTube comment threads this becomes ever more common. However, in the spirit of tolerance and equity I would like to say that I feel the vociferous male to female trans lobby has a point, and that they should be allowed access to women’s spaces, but only on one unbreakable condition; they have to give something up first. Specifically their sexual impedimenta, because those are the bits that cause the problems for women.

In medical terms it should be stipulated that if these ‘trans’ people want to join the desired club or clubs, then they should at least be willing to pay the basic membership fee of becoming at least half way female. Specifically a penectomy and bilateral orchiectomy before being allowed to access said spaces. Or to put it more crudely;

As for going the whole hog. Well I’m afraid unless a new technology is developed that can totally alter your XY to XX, superficially neuter is about as good as anyone is going to get. Brow ridges and superficial features can be altered, sexual organs removed surgically, organs can be shrunk by hormones, but our biology is immutably linked to our sex at birth. It’s no use simply calling yourself Loretta one gay morning and walking through the distaff door. This isn’t people being cruel or ‘hateful’, it’s simple anatomy and physiology. It’s just about safeguarding those (on average) not as physically strong or robust.

Women and men think differently too, that much cannot be denied. It’s biologically baked in. Our endocrine and reproductive systems have evolved our brains for different functions. Males tend to be larger, faster and heavier too. There is, admittedly, a little crossover, but only in extreme cases, and no amount of social conditioning will make it otherwise.

There is also the simple point that since time immemorial men have formed male only groups and women have formed female only peer groups. This is natural. It is a function of instinctive human behaviour for those who fit certain personality and gender subtypes to seek out those who most resemble themselves and what makes them comfortable. Like football clubs or various special interest societies. Or even simply a loose social group who wish to use a particular social space at a given time. They all have a common thread and no amount of busybody social engineering can change that.

So my point is that women need exclusively female spaces / company, and men need exclusively male spaces / company to fully relax and function well. It’s a social / emotional need as much as anything. If you are one of that tiny minority of inbetweeners then you’ll just have to form your own exclusive spaces and leave everyone else’s alone. No-one is really excluding the inbetweeners, it’s just that the inbetweeners are busy painting themselves into a corner and a lot of excitable and ignorant people are trying to hold a tiny mirror up to reality and chop off all the bits that won’t fit. Which never works.

Personally, I think the Who nailed it back in the 60’s.

As for the whole pronoun business, there is an important bit of wisdom that was vouchsafed to me by a one time boon companion; You are who you are, but nobody else is. Don’t expect them to be. This axiom has passed destruction testing and I think it applies here in spades.

Anyway. That’s enough pontificating from me for the moment. There is work to be done outdoors and it is my function to do it. I don’t care that the UK 77th Brigade were told to monitor and harass those critical of the lockdowns and masks. Or may even now be assisting the UK Police in finding people who they think are saying subjectively ‘offensive’ things. We knew it was our own military and law enforcement being weaponised against us., and the suffering those units have induced is real. Which means governments all over the world are criminalising dissent, no matter how well founded that disagreement is.

I did say at the time that there was a section of the ruling class pushing these crazy ideas. Like the strange idea is that you can alter human behaviour by suppressing it. Well you can, for a while, but only as long as the suppression is dialled all the way up. Think of what the powers that be are doing as stretching our social elastic all the way to it’s limit. At some point said social elastic will snap, and those doing the stretching will get hurt.

This situation could be avoided by simply dialling back the suppression, but I don’t think certain parties have the simple common sense to desist. They seem too arrogant for that.

Sympathy for

Mrs S follows the UK Royal news. Every so often she feels compelled to share snippets with me. Like the current furore over a certain ex-prince of the realm who has written a book. Well, not so much a book as a fit of ghost-written pique.

Details of the security procedures meant to protect the monarch are not meant to become public domain, yet he has spilled the beans. Although the security services will no doubt have read the silly whinge-fest and changed their protocols accordingly.

Why this situation was created is purely down to said ex-princes ego. Which needs a bit of a psychic slap. He’s spent too much time in La-La land. And having been resident on Canada’s wet coast, I can vouch for how adrift from reality that can be.

Such a wake up call will not be a pleasant experience for said ex-prince. It will be traumatic and involve a good deal of self reflection. Indeed, the best case scenario for all concerned for him would be to become an outcast somewhere remote for a couple of years on his tod getting his mind right.

Far from the madness of his current existence. No phones, Internet or other modern conveniences, just a year or two of getting his hands dirty and away from the malign influences that have brought him to this circumstance. Maybe his Dad would help by letting him live rough on one of his estates where a man can lose himself for long enough to meet himself coming back, and perhaps learn a little gratitude and humility on the way.

To conclude; that boy needs serious alone time to get his head sorted out. Not that he’ll get it given current circumstances. Although if, as I think is probable given her track record, Sparkly Meg does dump him, as the gossip is that said alleged “Puck bunny” is busy looking for a new sugar daddy, he might just be lucky to become reconciled with his family. Then he might be worth having some sympathy for.

Maybe he could even go and take a job driving a tractor on Clarkson’s farm. While he decides to accept JC’s apology. Stranger things have happened.

Another day, another WTF!?

Today I’ve been fine tuning the décor in the last bathroom. Sealing cracks and ensuring everything is completely water tight. Then there’s the entertainment for Crimbo. I think a Roku box will do the trick. Note to self, remember to disable the ad tracker function.

There’s a quote, often wrongly attributed to Voltaire which goes ; “To learn who rules over you, simply find out who you are not allowed to criticize.” Which seems ever more germane. Even if the real quote comes from a ‘white supremacist etc’.

Now I work on the principle that what is true is true, no matter who says it. Even a stopped clock is ‘right’ twice a day. Even the David Icke’s and Alex Jones’s of this world. Although most of their output should always be taken with a hefty pinch of salt, but then again, so should some ‘official’ sources. Like the politicians and mainstream journalists who have shown themselves to be untrustworthy, and any information from them should, like the crazies, be treated with extreme scepticism.

This post was sparked by the claim that Russia has jailed 400 people in 2021 for saying things that Putin doesn’t like. Now how many people have been arrested and convicted of ‘Hate Crimes’ in the UK during the same period? What do we know? For the period March 2020 to March 2021 there were 124,091 recorded ‘incidents’. I’ve tried finding out how many of those reported incidents resulted in a custodial sentence, but from what the stats tell me I’m fairly certain that for wrongspeak alone, not merely as a contributory factor to another offence, it’s way more than 400.

As for convictions; for the year up to March 2020, there were 9,340. Over 85% of every case going to court resulting in conviction during that time. These are official figures, and while I look upon some official sources when it comes from the mouth of an appointed spokesperson, a little digging into the reports will often find what’s really happening.

Compare that with the cleanup rate for burglaries; only 6% of burglaries a year are solved by police across England and Wales. As for murder, the cleanup rate is approximately 70% averaged out since 2016.

Sounds like someone’s plucking the low hanging fruit when it comes to crime, doesn’t it? A easy collar and conviction for ‘hate crime’ vs solving a real crime? No contest really.

Someone objects to children being subjected to alphabet soup faction propaganda in school? That’s a ‘hate crime incident’ which could land the complainant in jail if they press too hard. Not only that but the mere listing of a person having committed a suspected offence has until recently been enough to put them on a naughty list, which could prevent them getting a job or any other service while self avowed perverts and their foul doctrines are allowed through the school gates with apparent impunity. One could easily be forgiven for thinking that this is so because there is a cabal of those with similar tastes having infiltrated the mechanism of government.

Compared with the 400 that Putin’s regime has jailed for talking out of turn, out of well over twice the population of the UK, the linked stats do paint a rather disturbing picture. Which leads me to comment that the western world is not only upside down, it’s unsustainable, inside out and back to front. And despite avowed intent to make things ‘fairer’ is making life more unfair by the year.

However, there is heartening news where Elon Musk has made it plain that those who ‘doxx’, that is release someone’s address or real time location data on that platform will have their accounts suspended immediately. Which is good. One of the extremists prime weapons is exposing others to risk by letting their pet clockwork mice know exactly where the targeted person is. Next I would like to see is people stripped of their online accounts and shoved before the beak if they go after someone’s job or finances by threatening the transacting company or employers.

If we’re going to sanction people for saying something we don’t like, let’s at least make the process even handed. Then and only then might this high tide of outraged toddler behaviour ebb and we can all get on with our lives without having to watch every word.

Right. Last jobs before Christmas; finish bathroom cleaning, fit light fitting in porch and get ready to start work on the new greenhouse. Wine racks are full. Whiskey and spirits ready. Enough dry goods and canned foodstuffs to withstand a siege. I’d say we were ready for Christmas.

Incoming

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.

Warmth

Outside it is windy and raining cats and dogs. Fortunately my upgraded double glazing dulls all the yelping and yowling and inside our residence all is toasty warm. Because today the plumbers fixed our heating. For good, so there, and no returns. Yay.

This is a signal moment for me because this is the first property that I have had an ownership stake in that has bags of hot water and no nasty draughts. No shaving in cold water or flannel baths for me any more. I’ve done that for too many years living in sub-par European housing. Picturesque, heritage even, but when it came down to heating and plumbing, those pre-Edwardian places were just boxes that kept most of the rain out. Now we’re all up to date insulated with a modern and efficient heating system.

Tonight the drawbridge is up, portcullis down, and we’re ready to repel boarders and snub the day boys (This is a very old English public school joke, pre 1970’s, so don’t worry if you don’t get it.) We don’t have to go anywhere, so will not be troubled by eejits like ‘Just stop oil’ as deluded a bunch of sad pointless halfwits who think shutting down the M25 will ‘save the planet’. How completely retarded and blinkered some people can be.

Having had a deep dive into the real data, not the fantasy kind peddled by witch doctors masquerading as climate data modellers, I can say with absolute confidence that you could shut down not just the UK, but the whole of the world, and Earths climate would not even notice. Why? Because sooner or later the climate will change, and there’s nothing that we paltry, inconsequential humans can do about it. Geology alone will tell you that.

Right. That’s all for now. The rest of the world can do without my input until the weather eases up. I can probably be found with a pile of books at my elbow and a large bottle of whiskey on standby.

Straightening up

Still sleeping in shifts, but I’m getting more of it in bigger tranches, which seems to help. The fogginess and distractedness has faded like morning mist to be replaced with my more sharply focussed usual self. Oddly enough, a gargle with warm salty water before bed seems to help with my snoring issue.

Right. Regarding these threatened Winter power cuts. There’s even a plan for implementing them, although I haven’t found the one for Ireland. However, In the UK it’s the ESEC (Electricity Supply Emergency Code) which tells you that when the plan is implemented, who gets cut off for how long and where. (Page 18 of the plan has the schedule) No idea what it is for Ireland, but now I know there is a plan somewhere, it might be worth having a dig.

Watch the legal blogger Black Belt Barrister explain the outline below. At least if you do a little judicious reading you’ll know when you might have to get the timers reset and when to make sure you’ve got enough cosy clothes to snuggle up in. Or go and stay with friends or family in another area. You could even go get Grandma and have them over for a night or two instead of letting them freeze alone.

For my part, I have already made my preparations, backup power etc. and maybe a small investment in a UPS backup and some decent battery reading lights might save you a whole lot of grief. A stock of candles might not be such a bad idea. The Germans are levelling whole bloody forests at the moment to ensure their lights don’t go out.

Today being a planning day, as all Sundays are, I’m taking a time out to measure up to convert one of my sheds into a semi greenhouse by putting a lot of the old glass from the old windows we had replaced into frames and making an open lean to shed into a half glass enclosed space and looking at building a couple of home made solar collectors. It’s just at the feasibility study stage, but not beyond my capabilities.

We know the hard times are upon us, and a sensible man takes steps to stave off the worst, should it occur. Not stand around whickering “They wouldn’t do that, would they?” – oh yes ‘they’ would. Our politicians brought us here with all their nutty Net Zero plans and pointless lockdowns.

Forewarned is forearmed. Good luck all.

Ladders and snakes

Not a well cat at the moment. Cracked a tooth from tip to gum a couple of weeks ago and had it pulled last week, so I’ve had a fairly unhappy time of late. Mrs S tells me she’s worried about me, as I’ve been sleeping very badly, often pacing the ground floor like a disgruntled bear in the wee hours. Too tired to watch anything, but not shattered enough to get my head down and catch some much needed Zeds. Which has left me functioning badly.

Mrs S bullied me into going to the Quack because she says I’m “Not on my game”. Which is a bit of an understatement. A visit which led (So far) to a full range of blood tests and general once over. Something is definitely off but nothing obvious. Blood pressure is in the normal range (Systolic under 130) and apart from the tiredness and distractedness I don’t feel so bad. Just the usual aches and pains from old injuries. I put my current malaise down to long term stress and what my lady wife calls ‘sleep apnoea’, a.k.a. my snoring which often earns me a prod in the ribs at night, thus depriving me of repose, which doesn’t help.

Mrs S has also been deriving great amusement of late from the old one liner; “What lasts longer? A gobstopper or a UK Prime Minister?” My money is on the gobstopper whilst Blue Labour, let’s face it, they’re not proper Tories, tie themselves in knots following the external intervention that sent the bond market into a tailspin.

The ban on fracking has been re-introduced, meaning people will freeze because gas has to come from somewhere. ‘Renewables’ just won’t cut it when the wind doesn’t blow nor the sun shine. Along with a lot more educated and intelligent people I’ve been blarting on about this for years, but those in power think the big green is a vote winner. They’re about to find out the hard way. All it takes is one of the usual Winter ‘Omega blocks’, and those much vaunted wind turbines won’t product a volt.

It doesn’t matter. The Tories are toast anyway. Normal tribal voting for the usual suspects (Tories, Labour, LimpDems, Greens) won’t bring surcease from the current mess. The rest of the world is in the same bucket, heading to hell following the impossible green dream. Oh, and if anyone tells you it’s all to do with the Russians, laugh at them.

All anyone can hope for is to come out in one piece. If we’re really pushed, there’s a well on our property, it won’t take long to build a wood burner for cooking and hot clean water, as well as a bit of distilling for trade, and we should be okay. I’ve done the whole bathing in cold water thing in the late 70’s, and what I learned was this; not doing it again, not on my watch.

I’ve heard it said that civilisations are like a big game of snakes and ladders. We in the West have climbed the ladders so very, very far but unless we all get a grip and drop the insane Green and Woke politics garbage we’re about to find out exactly where the bottom of the snake is.

Nuts

Busy rearranging the contents of sheds now that the trades are more or less finished. Paint fumes are dissipating and should have faded by November so I can breathe again.

There’s leaky roofs to plug, a number of other things to fix after the recent bit of windy weather.

On the plus side, my hives seem to have stood up to the last blow reasonably well, although I’m inclined to put another brick on top of each of them and a couple at the bottom of the stands, just to make sure. A couple of guy ropes linked to ground anchors should also keep my insect workforce from being upended in the middle of the night during the current equinoctially inclement weather.

However, the forecast for tonight is mild, so I can deal with all the other jobs my little smallholding throws my way. Tomatoes need picking, even though they’re mostly still green. The raised beds need clearing for re-seeding. Apart from the Asparagus plants. They need a couple of years before they’re ready to cut, so I’ll leave them alone and just weed.

I see the UK is being forced to climb down on all the planned tax cuts after being threatened by the IMF. Shame. Most of people’s earnings disappear before they even hit their wage packets, and until IR35 gets repealed, running a personal company won’t be all that practical unless you’ve got multiple clients. If you’re a one man band, like I once was, forget it

Then there are the climate change nutjobs, spoiled middle class assholes determined to disrupt everyone’s lives until the UK is driven to freezing penury. There have been a few incidents where commuters have pulled them off the road but until they suffer the full consequences of their actions, nothing will happen.

Then there’s Chinese effing cops rioting in Manchester UK. What do the Police do about foreign agents on British soil? Apparently not a lot. Maybe most of them were too busy policing ‘mean tweets’ at the time, yes? I mean, just when you think the old country couldn’t get any nuttier, it does.

What with out of control energy costs, a perverted transgender ideology being pushed in schools, panics over next to nothing while real problems like illegal immigration get ignored. Moving out to the wilder west of Ireland may have been the smartest thing I’ve ever done. This has the air of getting worse before it all comes crashing down.

What the cure is for this disease, I have no idea. Well, actually I do, but it won’t be pretty. Not pretty at all.

The real granny killers

Mrs S has a dose of the dreaded lurgi, a SARS/COV-2 infection, courtesy I think of baby sister in law who came to visit even though she was coughing and spluttering. So, I’m busy keeping my other half cool, medicated and resting. Not that I’m that worried. Mrs S is a robust woman who will slough this latest illness off like she has everything else.

This may play ducks and drakes with her upcoming hospital appointments, but the restraints are off (leg & knee brace etc), and it’s only for physio anyway. Fresh air, good food and gentle exercise will pull her through with ease. It’s ironic really, because she’s had the booster shots and I have steadfastly refused to do so. So, it is what it is.

I see all the crazy green dreams of ‘Net Zero’ are starting to crumble, despite the insanity of places like Oxford and elsewhere hamstringing their local economies with pointless traffic restrictions. Newsflash kiddies. If people can’t get in to buy things, your city centres will rot from the inside out. Trade needs goods to move to be bought and sold. If the goods don’t move, the money gradually stops, and places become wasteland.

What ‘Net Zero’ also does is kill. Mainly old people on fixed incomes who can’t afford the skyrocketing bills caused by Net Zero policies and the pointless lockdowns. For the rabid greenies, well they don’t care that your elderly parent will freeze to death in the dark. Their empty headed fanaticism will result in thousands of deaths because, contrary to their beliefs, reality tells us that there is no empirically proven causal link between human emissions of Carbon Dioxide and weather The claimed correlation only exists in the output of bad theoretical models and the crazed ravings of rent seekers. I’ve looked at the source data and model output. There’s nothing there.

The rabid greenies, fraidy cat NIMBY’s and their insistence that wind and solar are more use than a chocolate teapot, will be directly responsible for people freezing to death. People like the loathsome Extinction rebellion and their protest splinter groups will be directly to blame for people starving in the dark. But what do you expect from the kind of ‘woke’ idiots who can’t even tell a man from a woman? Bozo’s.

You didn’t have to be a genius or a prophet to see this motorway pile up of an economic car crash coming. It’s so obvious that anyone with two brain cells to rub together can see it. Yet the cosseted urbanites of the rabid green faction, living off borrowed money the rest of us are going to have to repay, can’t.

Lifting the ban on fracking will help. The panics about seismicity are just that, empty panics. The ‘earthquakes’ associated with fracking are at worst magnitude two point five, which no one will notice because it’s below the range of human perception. These ‘quakes caused by settling as rock strata give up their oil and gas can only be detected by seismographs. Having experienced several over magnitude three I can tell you it’s like having a heavy truck roll by the house. A saucer might rattle, or a picture tilt, but that’s all. Mining subsidence from badly maintained mothballed mine tunnels can lead to far worse subsidence. A dryer than usual Summer or much wetter Winter can lead to far more ground shifting. Hardly grounds for killing the poor and elderly.

Now 1200+ scientists have signed a ‘world climate declaration‘ stating that there is ‘no climate emergency’. Unfortunately this body of scientific opinion will be ignored even after people start to die. Rather like the ‘Great Barrington Declaration‘ (With almost a million signatories) devised by well qualified immunologists and researchers is still being ignored by much of the political class, many of whom have blood on their hands over both climate and pandemic. Their policies are already killing more people than they ‘save’. Either from denial of treatment or putting a stranglehold on reasonably priced energy, or more directly from inappropriate use of badly tested ‘vaccines’ and ‘renewables’ not delivering in the depths of winter.

For me, I saw this coming a long time ago and have been taking steps to protect those I care for. Insulation. Affordable fuel. Alternate sources of food. The money we squirreled away for our frail dotage has been invested carefully, and as soon as Mrs S is back in action it’ll be full steam ahead.

The granny killers are not going to take us without a fight.

God save the King

There. I’ve said it. The Queen is dead, long live the King. I may not like Charles’s stance on man made climate change, or his obeisance to the wokish side of politics, but I am sworn. And an oath is an oath. May God help me.

Queen Liz, Brenda, whatever you want to call her, is no more. No doubt with a sense of relief to be following her husband, but with concern for the future of the people for whom she was the figurehead.

How do I feel about this? For someone I could never know personally? Deeply saddened. Subdued and, in a dry-eyed way mournful. I’m not really a monarchist either. The whole wavy flag, my country right or wrong thing passed me by. Yet I understand the need for a head of state, and I’d far rather it was someone trained for the long haul, rather than some mere politician.

What I don’t want to listen to is the torrent of empty platitudes from mere politicians, because she, and she alone was my sovereign lady. I may not have cared for the actions of her politicians and servants, but since before I was born she was the lynchpin of the land of my birth and the greater commonwealth.

All I have to say is this. God speed Elizabeth. You served your people as well as you could from the gilded cage of your position.

For the next few days I will be wearing black as a mark of mourning and respect. I may not crack a smile for a while. Something subtly important has departed from my life, and from the lives of so many of my fellow expats.

Now what? I think it is time for new beginnings. A time for the end of fear. To rid ourselves of old dogmas like COVID and man made climate change. To abandon the woke minority to the obscurity they so richly deserve, and to tell the yanks to stuff their crappy foreign policy once in a while. To begin to live properly again.

A proposed modest solution to the coming food crisis

With those who fancy themselves our lords and masters telling us that an ‘insect based diet’ is really healthy and infinitely preferable to any form of animal protein, I find myself less than convinced. Are these people willing to put their stomachs and digestion on the line? Oh my goodness me, don’t be silly. They will have the best animal protein all to themselves while most farms and farmers go to desolation and waste, and livestock, ever a component of a healthy ecosystem, is confined to the plates of a select few and their hangers on.

Do you think the senior members of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. are going to give up their Chateaubriands to ‘save the planet’? If you do, I have a really excellent bridge to sell you. Absolute bargain. A never to be missed opportunity.

There is a food crisis coming down the tracks for those who will not or cannot take a few simple precautions. The global supply chains are not recovering fast enough after the COVID debacle and there are even people out there actively involved in trying to shut key elements down, usually ‘environmental’ protesters. Who seem to get gentler treatment from the farces of law and disorder than anyone else. Which, given the later content of this blog post, may not be such a bad thing.

Now, given that a crisis (Oh blood and sand, not another one!) is heading toward us at a high rate of knots, there is time to take action and make preparations. Imagine a scenario….

A senior member of the ‘Insulate Britain’ group is taking an early morning jog on a sunny morning, earbuds in, listening to sounds and generally having a pleasant interlude while plotting spreading misery to the rest of the travelling public. Another day, another protest. Not long now, capitalism is almost crushed.

To the background of pleasant morning birdsong, they turn into their privet lined middle class haven, passing a plain white delivery van with an open side door. As they pod alongside there is a swish of cloth followed by a short melange of sounds, a brief scrabble of trainer clad feet and a noise like someone hitting a melon with a hammer, followed by the metallic rumble of a van door closing. The birds keep singing. After a few moments the electric van whirrs away from the kerb. The joggers cellphone and earbuds are tossed into a well clipped hedge at the end of the street. The anonymous van turns left and disappears from sight.

A few short minutes later, in the concrete anonymity of a run down industrial estate, the same white van drops a black sack, quite heavy for its size, onto a pallet at the back door of an industrial kitchen. A steel roller shutter door rattles open. A bored forklift driver emerges and uses his machine to move the new arrival onto a belt of steel rollers. The forklift retreats inside, the van drives away and the roller shutter door rattles closed. From inside comes the buzzing whine of a bandsaw.

A while later a whiff of cooking heavily spiced pork drifts across the yard to a small group of vagrants who glance up expectantly. One grimaces. “Bloody hell, they’re going to feed us pork curry again.” His fellow down and outs berate him for his ingratitude. It’s meat, a rare treat in this day and age.

“I remember when there was beef, lamb, chicken and even goat. Kebabs even.” He comments sourly. “Now it’s either ground up tasteless insects or bloody Pork.”

“What would you rather have?” Snaps one of his fellows. “We all remember proper meat from before the crash. I think we’re lucky to have found this soup kitchen. We can’t afford to live, so we have to eat where we can. I’ll settle for this places dodgy pork curries and rice any day of the week. Stop your grousing or sod off.”

“I only meant I’d like something other than curried pork.” He mutters darkly.

“Beggars can’t be choosers mate, and guess what we are.” Says a sour faced woman to his left. “Come on. let’s get in the queue before it’s all gone.” She rises to her feet and begins to walk around the side of the building to join the early morning charity breadline. The others follow. One leading a scrawny dog, yawning mouth exposing it’s slack dripping tongue, canine eyes expectant. They join the already hundred metre queue for the long shuffle for their one meal of the day, not caring where it came from, only that their ever present hunger is appeased.

Okay, that’s just a fantasy. However the above scenario may yet be seen in the urban centres of dear old blighty. Seemingly random people kidnapped from the street, their bodies used to feed the victims of economic fallout from a crash engineered by those behind the ‘great reset’. There’s a form of poetic justice in my version though.

Yes my friends, if Schwab and his acolytes get their way, like those down and outs in my little vignette, there may well come a time when you will be grateful to eat your Greens. As most of them have never really worked for a living, they’re tender and juicy, and probably better for you than starvation.

Just a thought….