I feel I am being beseeched to plant a tricolor on my photographs by the facebook sheepdogs who like nothing more than worrying their flock whilst chasing them hither and thither.
I'm still thinking about superimposing the North Vietnam flag on my box Brownie snaps from the 60's and 70's and then there is the Argentine flag from the Falklands gung-hoism. I should probably have overlaid the Iraq flag at some point and most certainly should be peering from behind a Palestine flag right now.... You see my dilema.
What this planet needs now is a symbol or banner (not the Christian dove nor a 6 armed elephant or the flag of the planet's 4th largest arms supplier) which unites mankind in turning his/her back on religions, isms and other methods of mass control.
Without freedom there can be no peace.
Sunday 15 November 2015
Friday 13 November 2015
Avant Garde painting discovered beneath Dutch masterpiece.
Experts in Holland using X-ray have discovered a previously unknown Avant Garde painting beneath an equally as unknown masterpiece by the Artist Jan Nieupjur.
Black Square No. 1 Painted by 'Abstract Depressionist' Nieupjur in 1915 was found to be concealing his earlier work White Square No. 12. Painted during the artists not so depressed period.
It was later discovered that an earlier work entitled: Primer No.7 lay beneath the white painting.
Black Square No. 1 Painted by 'Abstract Depressionist' Nieupjur in 1915 was found to be concealing his earlier work White Square No. 12. Painted during the artists not so depressed period.
Terry Wogan pulls out of Children in Need after threats from Damian Hirst.
Hirst is reported to claim that: 'I fucking invented spots, how dare they use them to raise money for children in need. If you don't want needy children don't fucking fuck. Don't go nicking my ideas without adding to my millions.'
Thursday 12 November 2015
Unseen Bronte poem in full.
Jan Nieupjur writes...
A boozy night in Haworth led to a 'private glimpse' of the previously unknown Charlotte Bronte poem recently discovered. My photographic memory did not fail me, here it is in full:
Out on the wiley, windy moors
We'd roll and fall in green.
You had a temper like my jealousy:
Too hot, too greedy.
How could you leave me,
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you. I loved you, too.
Bad dreams in the night.
They told me I was going to lose the fight,
Leave behind my wuthering, wuthering
Wuthering Heights.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh, it gets dark! It gets lonely,
On the other side from you.
I pine a lot. I find the lot
Falls through without you.
I'm coming back, love.
Cruel Heathcliff, my one dream,
My only master.
Too long I roam in the night.
I'm coming back to his side, to put it right.
I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering,
Wuthering Heights,
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh! Let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
Ooh! Let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
You know it's me Cathy!
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Of course it is the Kate Bush classic.
A boozy night in Haworth led to a 'private glimpse' of the previously unknown Charlotte Bronte poem recently discovered. My photographic memory did not fail me, here it is in full:
Out on the wiley, windy moors
We'd roll and fall in green.
You had a temper like my jealousy:
Too hot, too greedy.
How could you leave me,
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you. I loved you, too.
Bad dreams in the night.
They told me I was going to lose the fight,
Leave behind my wuthering, wuthering
Wuthering Heights.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh, it gets dark! It gets lonely,
On the other side from you.
I pine a lot. I find the lot
Falls through without you.
I'm coming back, love.
Cruel Heathcliff, my one dream,
My only master.
Too long I roam in the night.
I'm coming back to his side, to put it right.
I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering,
Wuthering Heights,
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh! Let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
Ooh! Let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
You know it's me Cathy!
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, it's me, your Cathy.
I've come home. I'm so cold!
Of course it is the Kate Bush classic.
Right to Buy. How it works.
1. You live in social housing in an upwardly mobile area of London with an Index linked rent of X pounds per Month.
2. You are gulled into buying your property at a slight discount in order that you may own your own castle and that the Housing Association/Local Authority has the funds to build new Social housing elsewhere in order to socially cleanse the upwardly mobile area in which you live. The repayments on the loan you take out to buy your property cost you 2X pounds per Month.
3. Interest rates rise as they inevitably do in our 'Boom & Bust' economy. Your repayments rise to 3X per Month.
4. When your repayments reach 4X per Month; an amount you can no longer afford. Either the Mortgage Company forecloses forcing a 'Fire-sale' or you sell hurriedly.
5. Your property is bought by an investment company which then lets it at a full market rate thus aiding the social cleansing process.
6. You 'downscale' by buying a smaller, cheaper property in a less affluent area or more likely move back into rented property elsewhere placing yourself back on the Local Authority housing list when you lose your job and health due to the stresses of home ownership.
7. You die in a homeless hostel in Wigan.
8. The investment company eventually sells its entire property portfolio of ex Social homes to the Chinese for billions thus ensuring that in future an Englishman's home will be someone else's pagoda.
2. You are gulled into buying your property at a slight discount in order that you may own your own castle and that the Housing Association/Local Authority has the funds to build new Social housing elsewhere in order to socially cleanse the upwardly mobile area in which you live. The repayments on the loan you take out to buy your property cost you 2X pounds per Month.
3. Interest rates rise as they inevitably do in our 'Boom & Bust' economy. Your repayments rise to 3X per Month.
4. When your repayments reach 4X per Month; an amount you can no longer afford. Either the Mortgage Company forecloses forcing a 'Fire-sale' or you sell hurriedly.
5. Your property is bought by an investment company which then lets it at a full market rate thus aiding the social cleansing process.
6. You 'downscale' by buying a smaller, cheaper property in a less affluent area or more likely move back into rented property elsewhere placing yourself back on the Local Authority housing list when you lose your job and health due to the stresses of home ownership.
7. You die in a homeless hostel in Wigan.
8. The investment company eventually sells its entire property portfolio of ex Social homes to the Chinese for billions thus ensuring that in future an Englishman's home will be someone else's pagoda.
Wednesday 11 November 2015
Why I am grumpy.
I have COPD; chronic obstructional lung disease according to my doctor. But I don't. I have lost 50% of the oxygen producing cells in my lungs due to contracting a strange virus some years ago. I am now told that standard drug procedures for someone suffering from Emphysemia is the way to go, not because I have emphysemia but because it is the easy answer.
I've been grumpy for a while, I'm grumpy with myself for being grumpy. I'm beating myself up for being a grumpy old man.
For the past six weeks I have been unable to do anything other than try to breath and do nothing and while doing nothing I have been indulging in grumpyness. I promise you, living with me has been hell and I am the first to admit that I have considered hiring a hit man to take me out.
I saw a new GP today.
A new day a new dawn. I had been prescribed steroids, knowing that steroids fuck up the immune system, without the essential antibiotics to protect a vulnerable body. Ergo: I have been getting every nasty little bug known to man so that my GP can remain happy in the fact that he is not over-prescribing expensive drugs.
My new GP diagnosed a long present lung infection and prescribed antibiotics as well as the steroids necessary for tissue growth. If the drugs don't work I'm looking at a trip to hospital for intravenous antibiotics before the pneumonia kills me. All because a doctor didn't want to prescribe the right drugs at the right time. He was probably too busy thinking about his golfing holiday courtesaey of the drugs reps.
350,000 people die from respiratory diseases every year, a lot of them unnecessarily. 863,000 GP's go on drug company funded holidays in return for prescribing their wares... Unnecessarily.
That is why I am grumpy.
I'm so fucking grumpy that I am staying alive for the next 60 years to complain about it.
I've been grumpy for a while, I'm grumpy with myself for being grumpy. I'm beating myself up for being a grumpy old man.
For the past six weeks I have been unable to do anything other than try to breath and do nothing and while doing nothing I have been indulging in grumpyness. I promise you, living with me has been hell and I am the first to admit that I have considered hiring a hit man to take me out.
I saw a new GP today.
A new day a new dawn. I had been prescribed steroids, knowing that steroids fuck up the immune system, without the essential antibiotics to protect a vulnerable body. Ergo: I have been getting every nasty little bug known to man so that my GP can remain happy in the fact that he is not over-prescribing expensive drugs.
My new GP diagnosed a long present lung infection and prescribed antibiotics as well as the steroids necessary for tissue growth. If the drugs don't work I'm looking at a trip to hospital for intravenous antibiotics before the pneumonia kills me. All because a doctor didn't want to prescribe the right drugs at the right time. He was probably too busy thinking about his golfing holiday courtesaey of the drugs reps.
350,000 people die from respiratory diseases every year, a lot of them unnecessarily. 863,000 GP's go on drug company funded holidays in return for prescribing their wares... Unnecessarily.
That is why I am grumpy.
I'm so fucking grumpy that I am staying alive for the next 60 years to complain about it.
Thursday 5 November 2015
Million Mask March bollocks.
A few hundred 'anti capitalism' bods are marching in London as I write this.
Photograph: Jack Taylor/AFP/Getty Images
Such is their blind determination to champion the rights of the underclass that they fail to see the irony in the fact that they are all wearing masks made by children in sweat shops in the far East. Thus making a tidy sum for the capitalist masters that they claim to despise.
Such is their blind determination to champion the rights of the underclass that they fail to see the irony in the fact that they are all wearing masks made by children in sweat shops in the far East. Thus making a tidy sum for the capitalist masters that they claim to despise.
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