Monthly Archive for September, 2008

Do tell

Can someone please explain to me why this nation’s media outlets report the American Election Circus as though it were our own? We don’t hear about the French elections, nor the German, nor indeed, anywhere else’s, so why America’s? Why would anyone in this country give a fuck what John McCain’s just said, who Barack Obama’s just touched, or whether either of them have bastard lovechildren?

The only thing worth reporting, the only fact that is in any way of interest to this nation, is who is eventually elected because, beyond the foreign policies of whichever party ascends to the Whitehouse, nothing else matters and no one else cares.

Obviously it’d be nice if they didn’t elect another right-wing fuckwit, but I’m not going to hold my breath.

TTFN

I’m off to Yorkshire with ‘the family’ tomorrow; a bold move when you consider that I’m not a family person in the conventional sense – well, in any sense really – and a significant social risk as I tend to become an unbearable shit after prolonged exposure. I mean, I don’t know if it’s a reaction peculiar to me, but spending too much time with family members makes me irritable, listless and argumentative… yes, more so than usual.

I do however, have a plan most subtle and cunning, an intricate scheme to avoid discord and ensure harmony; I’m taking my bike with me and spending as much time away from everyone as possible.

Simple, elegant, foolproof.

My basic aim is to hike, cycle, and wander ‘round various local curiosities taking photographs and indulging the somewhat more… eccentric side of my personality – talking to myself, that sort of thing. That’s assuming, of course, that it doesn’t rain like fuck. If that’s the case I’ll just sulk inside and pretend to be a reclusive scientist putting the finishing touches to my doomsday machine. I may even wear a top hat. Ta-ta!

So that’s it then

I awoke this morning to discover two things; 1) I’d left my window open and it’d rained in, and 2) it’s bloody cold. The rain I can cope with, the cold, not so much. This summer has been rubbish on a grand scale, it’s rained, it’s thundered, it’s been shit and unpleasant, and now it’s cold.

I realise that I shouldn’t hope for extended periods of tropical sunshine; that the clear azure will forever dangle out of reach like Tantalus’s fruit, but come on, no summer at all? What the hell? I preferred things when the stereotype of these sceptred isles being beset by wind and rain was just that, a stereotype. At least you’d get to see the sun now and again.

Unbelievable

Soldier forced to sleep in car after hotel refuses him a room

A wounded soldier home from Afghanistan on sick leave was forced to spend the night in his car after a hotel refused him a room.

Corporal Tomos Stringer was told by staff at Metro Hotel, in Woking, that it was company policy not to accept members of the armed forces as guests. The 24-year-old had travelled to the Surrey town to help with funeral preparations for a friend killed in action.

It was so late that Cpl Stringer, who had broken his wrist jumping off an Army truck as it was attacked, had no choice but to bed down in his tiny, two-door car, arm covered in plaster.

Cpl Stringer, of 13 Air Assault Support Regiment, The Royal Logistic Corps, has now returned to Afghanistan, but his mother, Gaynor Stringer, from Criccieth, north Wales, told The Times that she is still furious about the incident.

“I’m very, very angry. It’s discrimination. They would never get away with it if it was against someone of ethnic origin,” she said.

She said they had received neither an apology nor an explanation from the hotel, which is part of a family entertainment centre called The Big Apple and owned by a company called American Amusements.

“In America, they treat soldiers as heroes,” said Mrs Stringer, whose son joined the Army when he was 16 and has done multiple tours of duty in Iraq, Northern Ireland and Afghanistan.

“We went to Disney World with Tomos and the whole family was moved to the front of the lines. Everybody was standing up and clapping and cheering.

“Here, soldiers can’t even get a bed for the night.”

The incident has prompted widespread condemnation from senior members of the Government, MPs, servicemen and their supporters.

Hywel Williams, the MP for Caernarfon, Derek Twigg, the Defence Minister, and Bob Ainsworth, the Armed Forces Minister, have written to the hotel.

Mr Twigg wrote: “Although I do not know the precise circumstances, I think it is deplorable for the management of a hotel to have a policy not to accept military personnel and that this case is especially egregious given that the individual concerned was on injury leave from Afghanistan.”

Mr Williams said: “It is unacceptable and outrageous that anyone is discriminated against in this way. “

But perhaps even more worrying for Metro Hotel are the legions of army men and enthusiasts rising up in the forums of the unofficial British Army website to call for a boycott of the hotel.

Some have suggested booking the hotel in huge numbers only to cancel it at last minute. Others are encouraging their colleagues to post negative comments on websites offering customer reviews of the hotel.

One review site has already received half a dozen such comments.

“As a serving member of the British armed forces, I’m disgusted to see that one of my colleagues was refused a room in Metro Hotel in Surrey…because their policy is to refuse all army personnel,” wrote one.

“Anyone considering using any services of this company should definitely not bother. I’m sure a more patriotic company can be found with far superior services.”

Another wrote of the hotel: “Cons - No beds for our country’s heroes.”

Source: Times Online

Now, I’m as against the various frivolous wars we’re engaged in as the next man, I don’t even slightly agree with the “don’t do as I do, do as I say” attitude we’ve adopted while trying to police the world, I think it’s monstrously hypocritical. I do however, have a near infinite level of respect for the members of our armed forces, say what you will about them - and many do - ultimately they’re willing to take extreme risks so that I don’t have to. Indeed, if the worst came to the worst, it’d be these poor buggers that get shot at long before I do; I appreciate that. You should appreciate that.

It is with this in mind that I consider the actions of the Metro Hotel chain, their staff, and their ‘company policy’ to be utterly contemptable. I find it sad that, one hundred and eighteen years on, the words of Rudyard Kipling’s ‘Tommy’ still ring true. What a fucking disgrace.

UPDATE: They’ve apologised after several thousand people rang to tell them precicely what they think of them. Shame they’ve scapegoated the receptionist. ^_^

I’m alright Jacques

A few weeks ago, born of Ian’s inability to organise anything – let alone climbing Snowdon – a select few made their way to Birmingham on a mission of utmost importance. Hanging on this mission were the hopes and dreams of four people, their faith in humanity ready to be shattered or saved.

That’s right; we went to the SeaLife Centre and it was awesome.

Oh hi, we traveled through time to be here.Kiss me you fool!Poor thing, mind of a child.

Now, you may be thinking that looking at fish in big tanks isn’t something that adults do, let alone get excited about, but you’re wrong. It’s what being an adult is all about.

Murray the eel (geddit?)This is Alan, the starfish, he likes to play chess.It doesn't look it, but this creature was seventy feet across and made a sound like ducks hiccoughing.

Though, there is something about Octopi regarding you with disquieting intent that makes you wonder just what it is they’re up to. There’s also something about looking at all those fish that just makes a man hungry.

OMNOMNOM

Gallery: A Grand Day Out

 

Kobayashi Issa

O snail
Climb Mount Fuji,
But slowly, slowly!

Roads

Driving to work this morning I had an epiphany, I know why our roads are so congested, it’s so simple. It has nothing to do with the number of cars on the road, the phasing of traffic lights, or even the physical capacity of the infrastructure itself, it’s all down to a small cadre of wankers.

As I trundled along the ring road this morning, stuck in heavy traffic, I assumed that the schools must be back, or maybe the local farmers were chugging about with freshly harvested crops. I was wrong. The problem was, in fact, some arsewit in their Ford Focus and their belief that thirty-five is an acceptable speed for a main road. This one person was responsible for a tailback of around sixty vehicles, the knock-on effect thereof, and a marked decline in my mood. This set me to thinking.

The majority of road users put their foot down and get where they’re going with the minimum amount of fuss, a select few however, don’t. What this minority does is pootle along, without a care in the world, and make life shit for the rest of us. You know who they are, they’re the person who screeches out in front of you on a roundabout only to instantly dawdle along at twenty-five, they’re the tit that believes they’re driving safely while forgetting to indicate, they’re the person who mooches along at five miles an hour because they don’t know where they’re going, they’re the person who suddenly slams on their anchors and then, with all the speed and grace of a glacier, turns right against traffic instead of swinging ‘round the roundabout. They’re the stupid, the inconsiderate and the slow.

If we could only hunt down and kill these people, traffic congestion would be gone overnight.