I didn't quite catch that...

If they weren’t being so damn serious about it, I’d be mighty amused by all the talk of windfall taxes on oil/gas companies daring to make money.

I would be mighty amused, because of the sheer stupidity being shown. But then people go and mean it.

Why is it stupid to talk about stealing windfall-taxing these profits? Well, because the reasons being given by the taxers for the profits are nothing to do with the actual profits.

Examples:

• Unite fuckwit in chief says: “Tax the fuel companies now so that those who helped to create these mega-profits get their rightful share of them.” Which people are those? The shareholders who put up the capital that was then used to make the profits? The workers for the oil companies who receive a wage in return for their efforts? The forecourt owners who are making so much money that they’re shutting down? No, I think that said fuckwit-in-chief means the motorists, who pay more in tax than they do for the actual product and are accountable for something under 1% of those profits. Hence, stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for lower petrol prices, but let’s hit the real thief here: G Brown, Esq.
• Centrica is being hit for raising prices by 35% while ‘only’ reporting a 20% drop in profits. Which would make sense, if Centrica’s whole business was the delivery of gas to houses. But since it’s a big company, its somewhat spread about; the actual delivery of gas to houses is apparently run at a loss already and is in effect being cross-subsidised by other areas of the business.
• Companies are legally obliged to do the best they can for their shareholders. Not their customers and not the Exchequer, for their shareholders. And these shareholders aren’t Mr Moneybags; they’re pension funds and the like. And quite a few of them are people who got shares when the companies were privatised. So this windfall tax isn’t the acceptable face of taxation robbery: it’s not the super rich who would be stolen from: it’s everyone.

So, I think that all the talk is plenty stupid. But I’m not laughing, I’m actually a little scared…

For me, Facebook has really only been about three things.

• Getting back in touch with people that I’d not seen in ages.
• Getting to know people that little bit better than than distance would normally allow.
• Playing Scrabulous¹.

Now, Scrabulous is a blatant rip off of Scrabble, which has been causing litigation in not-at-all-litigation-obsessed America. So much so that Facebook was obliged to block it in the US & Canada.

In the US and Canada. So why, then, am I unable to play it now? Why do I get the message:

The page you requested was not found.

You may have clicked an expired link or mistyped the address. Some web addresses are case sensitive.

* Return home
* Go back to the previous page

any time I click on any of my Scrabulous related bookmarks?

This does not bode well…

–
¹ – That tournament seemed to die. Largely because of my group, it would appear. Sorry about that…

UPDATE: Disregard, it’s back. Move along, nothing to see here…

I’ve been particularly loving the use of the word ‘useless’ that’s been thrown about a bit by various agencies and spokesmen about the theft of those passports. Why? Because the government have been touting just how brilliant their systems are, and how seriously we should take them. In fact, we should take them so seriously that we should trust them with even more than they have already…

Plus, el Reg mentioned whole years ago that the passports could be copied without having to touch the damn things…

So, so far the stolen passports being useless, they’re pretty much priceless. A blank template that you could copy trusted government documents onto en masse? What criminal mastermind wouldn’t like that, eh?

Tacked onto the blunt end of a bad news story about pubs, there’s the fun and games that the media like to get involved with. And they like to use this opportunity to let the Association of Chief Police Officers trot out their usual bull about drink.

So they go on about the way that fewer people are buying fewer drinks in bars than they used to. This is a bad thing, because I like pubs. But they ACPO get involved.

Like this:

The Association of Chief Police Officers said more needed to be done by the drinks industry to curb excessive and dangerous drinking.

Seriously, that’s not the problem. Binge drinking, ‘excessive and dangerous drinking’ is not the problem. Motherfucking people demanding action to fix problems that aren’t problems; that’s the fucking problem…

Not that I got a little wound up at the pointless addition of that quote from ACPO in a story that doesn’t concern ACPO or their damn mindset, obviously…

Disclaimer time again:

Now, before anyone starts accusing me of anti-doctor-ism, I should say this: some of my closest friends are doctors. Hell, quite a few of my family are.

So, there’s the fig leaf I’ll hide behind while I say this: some doctors do get quoted talking a lot of shite, don’t they?

Why do I bring this up now, eh?

Only because some doctors have been quoted talking quite a lot of shite.

The Optimum Population Trust calculates that “each new UK birth will be responsible for 160 times more greenhouse gas emissions . . . than a new birth in Ethiopia.” Should UK doctors break a deafening silence here? “Population” and “family planning” seem taboo words … isn’t contraception the medical profession’s prime contribution for all countries?

Contraception is not, in fact, the prime contribution for the medical profession. It’s a part, yes, and quite an important part. But I’d wager that a good A&E department is more important, in the minds of most people…

Here’s the other bit that gets me:

Dr Hayes is certainly more than willing to advise her patients on matters that many would say are outside the remit of a GP. Her practice exhorts its patients not to fly on holiday, “but if you are flying this year, please consider offsetting your carbon emissions”. Dr Hayes also requests that her patients “will walk or cycle whenever possible”, so as not to damage the environment as well as for their own health. She herself is off on sabbatical to Madagascar and Australia – no doubt having offset the carbon from her flights.

What place is it of theirs to preach on this subject? If my GP started doing it, I can see one population that would decrease pretty sharpish: their practice list…

Thankfully, my experience is that most doctors are more sensible, and much less preachy about things that are in no way related to their fucking jobs…

Cock-knockers…

Language in politics is a law unto itself. For a start: government departments inevitably get called after the thing they do most damage to, in true 1984 stylee. The Ministry of Justice deals with injustice, the Department for Work and Pensions puts in policies that reduce the value of both and the less said about the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs the better…

Beyond that, there’s the traditional bastardisation of individual words. ‘Liberal’ has come to mean less liberty, and progressives are constantly looking back to what a lot of people term ‘the bad old days’.

Example: a little shindig at ye olde alma mater has been trying to come up with the policy agenda of Labour for the next while. And they’ve said some sensible things, and some not so sensible things. They’ve backed some half decent policies, and some half baked ones.

And here’s one of the quotes:

Dave Prentis, general secretary of public services union Unison, said: “We have moved forward on a package that covers a wide range of areas that the British electorate wants to see addressed…

“Importantly for us, it affirms the central role of the public sector in delivering public services.”

There’s that there misspeaking… Ring-fencing all that into the highly inefficient public sector is not a move forward, it’s a giant leap back.

Someone please send a stern letter to the Campaign For Not Bastardising The Damn Language about such misuses, this is getting out of hand…

The other week I managed a week in the sun without getting burnt. Wandering about, sitting by the pool, eating out, all done in the sun. And no burning. This was a good thing.

I have returned to previous form, however: A small part of yesterday afternoon was spent in the garden of a hotel, and now my face is bright red. So what a week in Madeira couldn’t do was done in an hour down the road from Larne…

It’s OK though; the wedding I was at was good craic and I just got wasted so didn’t particularly care about how bad the face looked…

So, what do you think of the news that travel between the UK and Ireland will soon require a passport?

The first formal border checks between Britain and the Irish Republic in more than 80 years have been proposed.

Full passport inspections could be part of the revisions, a Home Office consultation paper has said.

These would apply to those travelling by air and sea, but could also include more immigration checks between the Irish Republic and Northern Ireland.

But the governments said there were no plans for fixed checkpoints to be reintroduced along that land border.

And there is the rub. It’s like a Venn diagram, with all the ‘outer’ edges secure, but the internal edges entirely porous. So they could either make it that we Norn Ironers have to show passports to go South, or we have to show them to go to GB. So it will be less than entirely useful…

Of course, the day that some random policy from the Home Office is either consistent or useful is a day when the world stops spinning….

This world is, frankly, fucked.

To support this assertion, I bring forth three random stories from yesterday’s news.

• To begin: School students are sometimes daft. Seriously, how can the kids ignore all the stuff in the UCAS pack? Y’know, the bits that tell you where the league tables are and all that… Jaysus. How do they fill out the damn form?
• Item the second: New Zealand has some actual nutjobs when it comes to naming kids. What with actually naming kids Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii, Violence, Number 16 Bus Shelter, Midnight Chardonnay, Benson and Hedges. For the love of fuck, who thinks that calling a child any of those is deserving of anything other than an epic slap to the back of the head? And yet, they’re actually naming children that.
• Item the third, and the most worrying: People are falling for Obama, despite the fact that he’s clearly a vacuous windbag. TLG pointed me in the direction of one of the best quotes I’ve ever seen on the topic: someone apparently called it The lesser known “Ich bin ein Beginner” speech. Pure genius, and entirely in keeping with this dude being basically the anti-statesman and being loved for it.

As I say, I despair for the world, I really do…

A recent Times article was pointed out to me, with the simple question about it: True?

Is your man forever peppering conversations with random facts, like ‘mercury is the only metal that’s liquid at room temperature’ or ‘Carlsberg Special Brew was invented for Winston Churchill’? If so, don’t worry: lots of men are addicted to useless information – and it’s not really their fault. Mark Mason, author of a new book on the subject, explains why the male brain has such a huge fascination with tiny facts.

I’m quite confused by the whole thing: useless information, what is this? Sure there’s no such thing, there’s just inappropriately timed information…

The article then goes on to list seven reasons why males like trivia. And only gets round to the real reason once you get to the seventh: It satisfies their curiosity, kind of. Of course it does; it’s information, it’s knowledge, it’s learning and it’s always better to have more of that than less.

Of course, there is a real question that could be asked in relation to it: why do we constantly bore the women around us with trivia? And that two is simple: because it’s remarkably difficult to put your foot in your mouth while reciting trivia, and we need all the safe ground we can get when treading around women…

You might be excused for thinking that the fact that parliament is on recess would mean that we’re due a short holiday from the continuing interference in our lives from the politicians.

Apparently not.

Ministers have told the drinks industry to act more responsibly or face new laws governing alcohol sales.

A review of retailers showed many were not following a voluntary code calling on them to display details on units and to encourage sensible drinking.

Meddling fuckers. And this on the first day of their 12 week paid holiday.

Somehow I don’t think that the summer is going to be as much of a holiday as it should be…

The other day, TLG was driving me to Stansted to drop me off for my flight, when we got stuck in a very sudden queue about a mile shy of the terminal. This was unexpected, but not unfamiliar; anyone who drive to Aldergrove before the ceasefires would have been familiar with the type of queue. It’s the one where there’s a group of heavily armed men with armoured cars at the head of it, doing nothing more than look scary and pretending to judge the occupants of the cars on anything more than race and haircut…

Now, me being the sort of fella I am (i.e., prime demographic for a second look under the old system, somewhat too pale for such attention in this wonderful new world but still plenty paranoid), I flicked the switch in my head for such situations. Move ID to a place where reaching for it is entirely non-threatening, have a quick glance at the ticket to memorise the flight details, that sort of thing. Which must have amused TLG a little, but she’s a kind soul and didn’t laugh too much.

Anyway…

As I say; I’m not entirely keen on these sorts of security theatre; even when they were permanent and relatively consistent they weren’t much use. When they’re random and arbitrary, they’re less than useless and plenty open to abuse.

And not just wilful abuse; plain old fashioned abuse through ignorance is bad enough.

A police officer has been transferred from duties at a Channel crossing after a disabled child and his parents were detained under the Terrorism Act.

Julie Maynard, of Ware, Hertfordshire, was taking a day trip to Calais through the Channel Tunnel in Folkestone, Kent.

The detective constable accused Ms Maynard and her husband Leslie Coombs of trafficking her son Joshua, 12.

Kent Police apologised and described the incident as inappropriate, unprofessional and lacking in tact.

I’m not sure which pisses me off more: that such things can happen, or that I’m fairly sure that they happen much more than is reported…

Plus, I’m at a loss as to how people trafficking is anything to do with terrorism. Anyone care to explain that to me?

… that if we keep repeating the simple facts, that they’ll sink in?

In this instance, the facts should be directed to one M. Nicolas Sarkozy who Just Doesn’t Get It.

French President Nicolas Sarkozy insists that no EU “solution” will be imposed on the Republic of Ireland to break the Lisbon Treaty impasse.
…
Mr Sarkozy denied having suggested that Ireland hold a new referendum. “I said at some point or other the Irish must give their opinion,” he told reporters.

“I never said Ireland had to organise a new referendum… I understand it’s the Irish who must decide,” he said, but added that “we’re a Europe of 27″. He noted that 23 member states had already ratified the treaty.

Two points there that need addressing.

1. “I said at some point or other the Irish must give their opinion,” M Sarkozy, the Irish did give their opinion. They said NO. Deal with it.
2. “we’re a Europe of 27″. He noted that 23 member states had already ratified the treaty, without a vote. Let’s paraphrase Poweraid: it has been proven, when tested, that 100% of electorates asked about the Lisbon Treaty rejected it. How’s that for democracy?

Of course, I have little to no hope that it will sink in; some ruse will happen and the referendum will be rerun. I just hope that the lessons of Nice have sunk in to the Irish population: just being asked again shouldn’t change the answer, especially when the first answer was the correct one…

As I may have mentioned, I’m just back from my holidays. This time round, there were no geriatrics to be taken care of and no rigid structure to keep to.

There was only myself, TLG, a nice hotel and an island in the sun. Which was very nice.

Some people may have been less than thrilled with the view from the pool, though…

That there would be the threshold for runway 05 at Madeira Airport. What, you’ve not heard of it? Oh well, I don’t suppose that too many of my regular readers have visited The World’s Scariest Runways…

Madeira Airport
Funchal

Who Flies There: Most scheduled (and many charter) European carriers.

Why It’s Harrowing: Wedged in by mountains and the Atlantic, Madeira Airport requires a clockwise approach for which pilots are specially trained. Despite a unique elevated extension that was completed back in 2000 and now expands the runway length to what should be a comfortable 9,000 feet, the approach to Runway 05 remains a hair-raising affair that pilots absolutely dread. They must first point their aircraft at the mountains and, at the last minute, bank right to align with the fast-approaching runway.

There is something to be said for an approach that requires both final and base legs below two thousand feet, and a landing that is below most of the visible houses…

A lot of people wouldn’t like that approach, and wouldn’t be keen on seeing it a dozen times a day as they lounge by the pool. But I was rather happy, if I’m honest. It didn’t look scary at all. It looked fun…

Right, I’m back. Good to be home, bad to be back to work in the morning, and rather less than pleased that there Irish Sea has returned to be between me and TLG…

Oh, and somewhat shocked by this image:

Bloody hell, I was only gone nine days, and some ‘tard dropped four thousand bloody spam comments on me. Most uncool.

But anyway: as I say, I’m back. Did you miss me? And did I miss anything?

A list of actual announcements that London Tube train drivers have made to their passengers…

1. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I do apologize for the delay to your service. I know you’re all dying to get home, unless, of course, you happen to be married to my ex-wife, in which case you’ll want to cross over to the Westbound and go in the opposite direction.’
2. ‘Your delay this evening is caused by the line controller suffering from E & B syndrome: not knowing his elbow from his backside. I’ll let you know any further information as soon as I’m given any.’
3. ‘Do you want the good news first or the bad news? The good news is that last Friday was my birthday and I hit the town and had a great time. The bad news is that there is a points failure somewhere between Stratford and East Ham, which means we probably won’t reach our destination.’
4. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay, but there is a security alert at Victoria station and we are therefore stuck here for the foreseeable future, so let’s take our minds off it and pass some time together. All together now…. ‘Ten green bottles, hanging on a wall…..’.’
5. ‘We are now travelling through Baker Street … As you can see, Baker Street is closed. It would have been nice if they had actually told me, so I could tell you earlier, but no, they don’t think about things like that’.
6. ‘Beggars are operating on this train. Please do NOT encourage these professional beggars. If you have any spare change, please give it to a registered charity. Failing that, give it to me.’
7. During an extremely hot rush hour on the Central Line, the driver announced in a West Indian drawl: ‘Step right this way for the sauna, ladies and gentleman… unfortunately, towels are not provided.’
8. ‘Let the passengers off the train FIRST!’ (Pause ) ‘Oh go on then, stuff yourselves in like sardines, see if I care – I’m going home….’
9. Please allow the doors to close. Try not to confuse this with ‘Please hold the doors open.’ The two are distinct and separate
   instructions.’
10. ‘Please note that the beeping noise coming from the doors means that the doors are about to close. It does not mean throw yourself or your bags into the doors.’
11. ‘We can’t move off because some idiot has their hand stuck in the door.’
12. ‘To the gentleman wearing the long grey coat trying to get on the second carriage — what part of ‘stand clear of the doors’ don’t you understand?’
13. ‘Please move all baggage away from the doors.’ (Pause..) ‘Please move ALL belongings away from the doors.’ (Pause…) ‘This is a personal message to the man in the brown suit wearing glasses at the rear of the train: Put the pie down, Four-eyes, and move your bloody golf clubs away from the door before I come down there and shove them up your arse sideways!’
14. ‘May I remind all passengers that there is strictly no smoking allowed on any part of the Underground. However, if you are smoking a joint, it’s only fair that you pass it round the rest of the carriage

Just because I can’t be bothered thinking up original comment, have a rehashed meme, wot was first done two years ago.

The ABCs of Me

Accent: Belfast, Norn Iron.

Breakfast or no breakfast: Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. And coffee.

Chore I don’t care for: Cleaning.

Dog or Cat: Dog. Clearly. For cats are evil.

Essential Electronics: Essential would be the car (what, didn’t you see the C4 ads), the phone and the computer.

Favorite Cologne: None, ta very much.

Gold or Silver: Whichever is worth more, I’m not up to date…

Handbag I carry most often: I don’t understand the question.

Insomnia: Sometimes, but not as often as I used to get it. And now that I’ve said that…

Job Title: IT and Administration Manager.

Kids: No thanks, I just ate.

Living Arrangements: Me, my house, and my PS3…

Most Admirable Trait: That when I have to look after someone, I do it properly.

Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: Thon time that a hammer left my hand and hit the head of a sibling. Some twenty yards away.

Overnight hospital stays: Both my tonsils and appendix got removed during stays in the Waveney. Boy, that was a fun place…

Phobias: I dread living in a world where Gordon Brown has his finger on The Button. Or any button, in fact. Can we just cut his fingers off?

Quote: Never attribute to malice what can be explained away by ineptitude.

Reason to smile: The Lovely Girlfriend.

Siblings: Three, sisters all.

Time I wake up: 7:34am during the week.

Unusual Talent or Skill: Well, I’m one of the (relative) few people about who can fly a helicopter…

Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Parsnip.

Worst Habit: Completing silly quizzes for t’internet.

X-rays: A chest XR back when I was about three foot tall, a hand XR when I was a silly 17 year old and several dental ones.

Yummy Stuff: Steak.

Zoo Animal I Like Most: Penguins. They could be my power animal, you know. Slideeeeeeeeeeeee.

For it was she who introduced me to this meme.

I have 73 facebook ‘friends’. Thirteen of them I have never met in real life; of those thirteen seven are people who I met through blogging. One of them is entirely made up (which broke my heart to find out), and two of them are buried deep beneath pseudonyms.

I’ve played Scrabulous with ten of them, and lost games to all ten. I think I’ve beaten six, but I can’t be sure…

I don’t do Flickr properly, but seven people appear on both my Flickr contact page and my Facebook friend list.

Nine of them are related to me by blood, and another one is a blood relative’s better half.

Two people on the list were, at some point in the past, romantic interests. One of them, who frequents several other categories mentioned in this post, is The Lovely Girlfriend.

Nobody from school is on my friend’s list, but five people I was in Scouts with appear. One person from my course at uni is there, and he’s also one of the twenty five people I worked with while at uni who are there. Another one of those twenty five appears among the nine people on the list that I’ve lived with.

One poor soul appears on the list from my employment in Norn Iron.

I’ve slept in the same house as thirty of them; I’ve shared a meal with thirty nine of them and I’ve had a drink with fifty nine of them.

And, having taken all that into account, I direct you to this article…

From the Onion:

Look, if someone expects me to accept aid from some pesky St Bernard without brandy there will be trouble….

Plus, Norn Iron folk have been eschewing the services of certified ‘demolition experts’ for quite some time. Unless you count all that education picked up in Her Majesty’s University The Maze…

The following was sent to me with the intention that it be symbolise something good happening.

However, I am not made happy by it. No, I’m slightly worried.

Is the world ready for the image of The Hoff doing the Hammer dance? That much anti-awesome can’t be good…