I didn't quite catch that...

Got the ST this morning, and, as is just and proper, I read it. And discovered something disturbing. They’re fucking with it.

This may not seem to be a big thing, but the piece of the paper that we’ve always fought most over is the Culture (TV listings, film & book reviews). We all have our favourite sections, mine being the main, the News Review, Sports, Driving and the Culture. And all of us want the Culture. But they seem to be getting rid of the Culture. And replacing it with something called the Eye, which, as a name for a section in a major newspaper, sucks more that a warehouse full of Dysons. But hey. Enough.

NOw, I won’t say that I’ll stop buying the Sunday Times. There really is no alternative, no amount of reading for the price is available. The Sunday Times is, after all, the Sunday papers. But my enjoyment of the paper will probably decrease.

The fucking ‘Eye’? What first year media studies person thought that up?

Why should you never befriend a dwarf with learning difficulties?

Because it’s not big, and it’s not clever.

I’m deleting a few things off of the blogroll, because I can’t be bothered to read all of them any more. Oh, and because I’ve deleted one of the blogs I was hosting for someone else, because he hadn’t updated it since April. I figured that four months was long enough…

I’ve mentioned that I don’t like Ken Livingstone before. Not just becasue of his extreme anti-motorist schemes, his extreme anti-business views or his extreme ability to make me want to punch him (and anyone he’s ever known, loved or talked to in a friendly manner). It’s also the fact that he can be extremely stupid.

He is now going on about how the tube should go back to having it’s own power supply, not relying on the national grid. Because it’s a bandwagon, more than anything else. The way I understand it, the problem wasn’t as much with the power as with the fact that the trains were evacuated too early, meaning that when the power returned (fairly quickly), the tracks could be electrified due to the commuters walking along them. A seperate power supply would have helped how, exactly?

What’s that, Ken? You’re just talking shit because you know that the cameras will listen and then broadcast you? And you’re in love with the sound of your own voice? Thought so.

Gimp. A man whose favourite topic is saying how Bush stole the election, while only being known because he stole one himself. I really don’t like this bloke.

I didn’t watch the MTV Awards thingy last night. Not suprisingly in of itself, given that I tend not to watch shit like that. But I knids wish I’d watched the first few minutes…

Yes, Madge is a bit of an old minger, but Britney and lesbian tendencies do go so well together…

First the US had a big power cut, the then tube had one. I wouldn’t have liked to be in there when that happened; the only air that moves about in the damn place is moved by the trains themselves. If they stopped, then the heat would be unbearable. Which would not be to my liking.

I say we blame Mars. Or White Glenn. Both dodgy, if you ask me.

This post is placed in the catagory [work], for reasons that should become clear. Mainly because of the fact that, despite finishing uni two months ago, I still ain’t got no work. I haven’t been looking, really, because I am a very lazy person. I’ve been on holidays, and I’m currently covering someone else’s holidays in the family business (and, no, doing twenty hours a week in a small bar does not a job make, not a proper one, anyway).

But a few things are happening that make it imperative that I do get work. In my eyes. First off, a lot of the people who left uni with me are about to start their jobs. Some people in the civil service, teachers and all that. Starting in the next week or two. And that make me feel, well, like I’m a very lazy person.

Now, usually, upon feeling this, I’d look at the employment position of a particular friend, and I’d feel OK. Mainly because, despite his leaving university a full year before me, he hasn’t had a proper job yet. I think he’s worked 8 weeks out of the 60 since he left. So I went to ring him, just to see how the world was in Norfolk.

And got a nasty suprise. The bastard’s only gone and got a job. Not a career, but it’ll do him, and it’s got him to Holland, which I’m sure is like putting me in the cockpit of an F-15 and saying “France is that way and you’ve got several B83s under the wings.”* Which kinda took away my safety blanket.

Then, while doing said coverage in the bar, I got talking to someone I knew in primary school. Now, there were only nine blokes in my primary school class of thirty, and the guy I was talking to said that I was the only one not currently working on building sites, therefore I had ‘dun good’. Now, I know I’m not the only one not working on sites, and not just because the guy I was talking to wasn’t currently working (he’s on parole for the week, and nearing the end of a stretch. Apparently, knocking down a couple of cops while driving without insurance is not allowed…) But the point hit home. I didn’t hang about and start labouring. I went to school, got good marks in the 11+, and damn good GCSEs and A-levels. I got into a bloody good uni, and screwed up the course once or twice, but still graduated. I even took a course in Japanese, for feck’s sake. I got a fairly good student job, and got promoted steadily in it (because they were desperate, and because I stayed for a long time in it, but is any potential employer going to know about it? Hell no). As the guy in the pub# said, I had the potential, and I made the break. And I’m now sat, unemployed, in the same small town I started in.

I really gotta get a job. As soon as I finish covering for people in the bar. Now, where’s that CV?

* – Yes, I know that the B83 gravity bomb cannot be carried on an F-15, which, as far as I’m aware, cannot carry any nuclear weapons. But that is not the point. This is my story, and, damn it, if I want an F-15 carrying B83s, I’ll fucking have one!

# – Ah, the guy in the pub. Always a reliable source of information…

Michael Moore was in Belfast. A part of Belfast well known for people suddenly dying of gunshot wounds.

Hello! People? Opportunity, knocking!

Damn, you missed it. Bugger.

Well, Lt. Smash (who I only read occasionally, but there you are), has gone home from Kuwait. Not really as big news as a lot of people are making out, but, hey, it got me reading it.

The reasons I post are three fold:

1. Yes, you’re right. Ireland is a stunningly beautiful country. Cheers, we appreciate other people realising this.
2. Shame on the bar for not selling Guinness. Of course, it ain’t my drink of choice, but it is a symbol, and all foriegners should be allowed to taste it at every opportunity. Although, the fact that the bar was open at 7am will work in it’s favour.
3. WHY WEREN’T YOU DRINKING GOOD OLD IRISH WHISKEY, SMASH? Huh? Unforgivable, really…

And another small point: I think that some of these people are still there. I understand that Lt. Smash was armed. Why did he not take both of these facts, use a bit of common sense, and make sure that only one of the facts was, in fact, factual, before he left? Huh?

Found, on a cubicle wall in terminal 5 of LAX:

Here I sit,
Broken-hearted.
I came to shit,
But only farted.

I think that we can all identify with that, and appreciate it. Go forth and desecrate many other public bogs with the same text.

Or don’t. That would be silly.

Oh dear. The Daily Mail has a story (which I can’t find a link to) about how shocking it is that the MoD is selling off a load of armoured Land Rovers when the RMPs in Iraq are going about in hired SUVs. There are a couple of point’s that they don’t take into account.

• An armoured Land Rover isn’t really that armoured. It would have problems stopping a round (or series of rounds) from an AK. Just so you know.
• British Army Land Rovers are not noted for their air conditioning. Modern rental SUVs are. Given the climate in lraq, which one do you think you would choose?

So the Mail is picking a fight, on the wrong issues and without checking their facts. Aren’t they smart!

According to the Sunday Times (and the Sun), the government is planning to make every car in the UK carry a chip which will ensure that the owner obeys all the traffic laws. Suprisingly enough, I think that this would be a very bad thing.

It’s a little bit too ’1984′ for me. The government will keep an eye on all the naughty little citizens. Who are too silly to watch out for themselves. The government obviously feels that all of the motorists in the UK are not to be trusted. Of course, the fact that motorists are (seeimgly) a very nice source of revenue, and are much easier to catch than proper criminals is nothing to do with it. Perhaps we should stop targeting motorists. How about we make everyone in the UK have a camera installed in their bedrooms to make sure they’re not doing anything that they shouldn’t be doing… Just a thought. Obviously…

Of course, the Police will be happy wilds the system. But there is a reason that the phrase ‘Police state’ not seen as a good phrase. As Terry Pratchett has said:

The watch would probably like it if everyone spent their time indoors, with their hands on the table where people could see them.

Which doesn’t seem like a high standard of life to me …

Went to see T3 today. I like. Much explosions, much gunfire, and a couple of very fit ladies. I especially like the expanding breasts. More of them, please.

Still have to see Bruce Almighty at some point, but it can wait. Also saw American Wedding, which was also good. I laughed. A lot*. More knob jokes. And more of Alyson Hannigan. Lots more.

* – Bear in mind that I went about quoting Beavis and Butthead for months after Do America, that I can practically quote Happy Gilmore word for word. It does not take a very complicated sense of Humour to get me laughing. The more toilet humour, the better.

Boo! Apparently, yesterday was Slackerday. Why didn’t anyone tell me? Yesterday was on of only four days in August that I did any proper work! Bastard.

Cheers to Joe for pointing it out, even if it was late…

You know how it goes (sometimes, anyway); you’ve been doing omething for years, then you have to adapt to doing it slightly differently for a few days, then, when you try to revert to doing things the old way, it’s more difficult?

Just me then? Well, tough. I’m going to write about it, anyway.

A quick check of my driving licence will tell anyone that I’ve been legally allowed to drive for three days short of five years. I’d been driving the car about (private places, beaches, that sort of fing) for about seven or eight years longer that that, though. And so I’m very used to things; sitting on the right (or correct) side of the car, driving on the left side of the road, checking the rearview mirror on my left side, using my left hand to change gears, and using the handbrake for parking on a hill (or getting round nasty bends).

And all was good. Until we’d picked up the car in Tucson. Which was left hand drive. Which drove on the right. Which had the mirror to the driver’s right. Which had no gears (and hence, no clutch). Which had a foot park brake, not a handbrake. And I’d adapted to this in about five minutes, and got down to enjoying the aforementioned 180 brake on tap, covering many, many miles in a few short days (I mean, in the arsehole of Arizona, life stops at dark. Which was about 8pm. BORING!).

Then, we got home. I didn’t drive from the airport, and only got round to using the car today. And it took me a while to get used to driving on the correct side of the road (thankfully, I did walk to the right side of the car, or I’d have looked like a muppet). And, after getting used to it again, I realised how much I had missed proper driving. By which I mean, shifting gears. Having three pedals. Being close to the driving experience, that sort of thing. And all was good.

Looking back, and considering, I have decided that the day I consider buying an automatic (or a diesel, but thats another story), I really should shoot myself.

Take care of yourselves, and each other.

I am now officially back. I will do some form of summary of the whole trip at osme point, when I’m not rendered totally useless by the jet lag.

However, I’ll link to something that made it all worthwhile for me. As some of you may know, I’m a bit of a geek when it comes to military hardware (see this for an example). And, boy, did Arizona have more that it’s fare share. We had to wait in Tucson airport for a few hours last Monday, which was the afternoon after Bush had visited the place. So there was a fair bit of activity over at Davis-Monthan AFB, near to the airport. Which meant that I got to watch lots of formation flying, combat take-offs and air-to-air training by pilots of F-15s and -16s. Which was very nice. What was nicer was, on the last proper day, I dragged everyone round Pima Air & Space Museum.

This would probably bore many, many people, but I loved it. There was a tour of Kennedy’s original Air Force One, and there was a huge space, filled with loads of big planes capable of dropping very big bombs. B-52s, F-4s, F-5s, F-6s, F-14s, F-15s, A-6Es, A-7s, the lot. And, of course, two of my all time favourite aircraft ever: the A-10 and the SR-71.

I was in hog heaven, I’m telling you. You may ridicule starting…… now.

Well. First off, I will not be IP banning Chez for the hijacking of the comments on the previous post, because it’s not really enough, is it? I mean, not if I’m the only one with FTP access to his blog, anyway…

Anyway. I’m currently sitting in a hotel in Tucson, Az. I haven’t had a wander through the blogroll yet, because I’m lazy. The last week has been good, mainly involving driving round Arizona in this. We’ve covered some 2,100 miles, all round Az, into New Mexico, Nevada, and California. In a 180bhp V6. US V6 makes me a very happy boy. The fact that it was attached to an automatic gearbox that was, simply, shit couldn’t erase the fun of hacing 180 brake to fuck about with.

Of course, the fact that it was in a bodyshell which could double as an ocean going yacht was a factor. I mean, Ive seen vans smaller than this car. I love it!

Anyway, I’m away to bed. I have the joys of LAX to navigate tomorrow. I’ll leave you with a couple of lines from Faithless:

America’s big, you’d love how they pile up your plate
Only place in the world even I can gain weight

It’s true! It’s so true!

By John Hillan, aged 22 1/4

Yesterday and today, I have mainly been doing the very blatent touristy things.

• I have learned to curse loudly at the mention of the Immigration and Naturalization Servce (2 and a half hours queuing to get through immigration in Dulles. Bastards.).
• I have learned never to believe it when a pilot says that the minor problem will be fixed when they start the No.2 engine (2 and a half hours spent on the tarmac in Dulles while they replaced a pressure valve on the water system).
• I have learned to curse the choice of inflight entertainment on United Airlines (when BBC hardtalk is the highlight in about 18 hours of viewing, you know it’s bad).
• I have learned to curse the mention of Washington Dulles airport, which I shall now refer to by it’s actual name: That fucking inept excuse for an airport near the city that was formerly a malarial swamp. Oh, and did anyone consider fixing the air con? I mean, malarial swamps tend to be a little FUCKING HOT in August, you know?

On the other hand, I have learned to appreciate the seats on United. It may be the lowest class, but they are still spacious enough for me not to have chewed my own leg off during the flight, which was a worry the last time I flew to the States.

San Francisco seems to be a good place. Alcatraz is pretty cool, as is Angel Island. Have yet to do the tram cars and that, but have been thrown about a bus on the roads that Bullitt, the Rock, etc were filmed on. Which is nice.

And I’m now in a State that may soon have the Terminator as it’s Govenor. How cool is that?

And now I’m away to bed some sleep. Because I’ve slept something like six hours in the last sixty two. ‘Night all.