Superiority

Blogista: Thank goodness our Leader totally thought of a plan to save the world at the last moment. I mean, phew. Bit like "Assault on Precinct 13" only without th'same kind of silencers.

Reader: I ham no englis.

Blogista: Oh, you are American or foreign or something? Well, I bent your daughter over the scrolliest bit of your chaise longue and - let's be frank - enjoyed her while she was trying to set the cushion straight.

Reader: I har no shez lonk.

Blogista: Well anyhow I took your daughter from behind. TOOK. From BEHIND.

Reader:

Blogista: Look, we have a giant cardboard Leader on sticks. Whenever we are told to, we can raise the Leader above th' crowd, on the sticks. So you gotta Leader like that?

Reader (note the missing 'L'):

Blogista: So suck my penis.

Holy, Venerable, Late Lamented and Sainted Woss: Wow that is an original gag. As (heh) 'twere. Shit, that's a double-take etc etc etc

Martrys

Yeah, our movement just suffered another couple of Martyrs.

Shit happens.

The er Martyred Two.

Plenty more where they came from, but still worth a chorus or so of our Anthem, just in case you thought we were losing.


There may be some readers who notice a teeth in this fillum allegedly even worse than Shane McGowan his teeth (neatly avoiding any controversy over the placing of the apostroph'e).












We are somwhat less incapable of dentistry than you may suppose
and we have the world-historical Sense of Humour against which even hyper-snarky Americans are defenseless.












The global importance of our media "Outlets" - and the late Wossy and Wanker were nothing if not "Outlets" - speaks for it and for them and for Our Selves.

The Wikipegg and I

Employment at last!!! - a Mr Dion O'Banion has offered me a job in his flower shop in Chicago.

I will certainly take the post, even though according to Wikipedia his name is really Deanie or Dean and the URL for his 'pedia entry is http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_O'Banion.

I will address him as 'Gimpy' to be on the safe side.

---

Yes. I know.










It means leaving my beloved and well-governed country.

---

But he says if I work hard enough I could be enjoying a challenging position in one of his garage businesses a while from now.

It will be a big Life Change.

Joy for Monday and For Ever

Well, for a thousand years anyway... the Longplayer is playing in the here and now, here.

I miss (they are in store somewhere) my albums of Eliane Radigue. How influential do you get and still be not heard of much?

Nothing to do, then, but post Jem Finer (composer of Longplayer inter alia) and the Pogues and the Dubliners, and take ship on the Irish Rover...



Or maybe accept defeat and exit gracefully



If I should fall from Grace with God
Where no doctor can relieve me
If I'm buried 'neath the sod
But the angels won't receive me

Let me go boys
Let me go boys
Let me go down in the mud
Where the rivers all run dry

This land was always ours
Was the proud land of our fathers
It belongs to us and them
Not to any of the others

Let them go boys
Let them go boys
Let them go down in the mud
Where the rivers all run dry

Bury me at sea
Where no more a ghost can haunt me
If I rock upon the waves
No cunts will lie upon me

And I'm free boys
Then I'm free boys
Let me go down in the mud
Where the rivers all run dry

Mr X Record RequeX

A reader axes, what do you think of these, Sons of the Delta?

We sampled (forensicallly and scieintientiffxicaklly) a sample, "eBay Blues":

Well I came home early last Monday
She was standing in the hall
With twenty-seven suitcases
Stacked up against the wall

Well I knew she was leaving
But I never knew she had so many clothes

She took half out to the taxi she said
Honey you carry those

This is so true that they totally just pwnd my votey things. Bristol on the 28th October, Haringe in Belgium on the 8th November. Be there or

or be gasp square?

Blues for Mr X

Couple of tracks ("Detroit Moan" and "Telephoning The Blues", 1929) from the underrated Victoria Spivey



that led me to "How Do You Do It That Way", with Victoria Spivey and Louis Armstrong (on the 1929 Okeh version)

When the rooster and the hen go to the barn to play
Oh the henhouse chickens, how do they do it that way?

which is in my Top Ten Sexiest Records Ever list.

Now that I've found The Red Hot Jazz Archive posting may be rather slow, as I will be listening to everything several times over.

In fact I think I might grow a huge beard and start up a radio jazz programme, say Radio 2 at one o'clock in the morning, just an hour...

Readers: Come on Aunty Beeb! He pays his license fee like everybody else, give him a slot!

Blogista: Erm, I don't have a TV so I don't pay the license fee.

Readers: That's scuppered that, then.

Blogista: Meanwhile here's Clarence Williams with an oddly sinister recording of "'I'll Be Glad When You're Dead You Rascal You".

INTJ

I am a Mastermind.

"Masterminds are rare, comprising no more than, say, one percent of the population, and they are rarely encountered outside their office, factory, school, or laboratory."

Or outside of their flat, where this Mastermind is about to take his second bath of the day, for want of anything else to do.

Yaay yaay eye-en-tee-jaaay!

I am the King's own dog at Kew -
Pray tell me, Sir, whose dog are you?

Won't Someone

Blogert Island Blogs: The only Record I know of which ends with the Riff.

Readers: Erm...

(in case of) Readers (break galss

Readers: Y'mean we have to break this galss to get at th'hammer, smole mettal.

International Blogetary Fund: Yep.

Readers: An' hit th'other galss wit th'hammuh, and so xcape.






Readers: Weeeeel. We're going to go off an' read something else now.

Slow News Day

Nothing much happening hereabouts today so I mooched around the interwebs a while - and found these startling tilt-shift photography clips.

Inappropriate

Marmite banned from school breakfast club!

Welsh Assembly spokesman: 'We have not mentioned Marmite in our guidance. In terms of toppings for toast we indicate these are and optional and where required a low-fat polyunsaturated spread should be used and similarly a reduced sugar jam.'

Marmite spokesman: 'It does contain salt and it is important only small quantities are used for taste. But it is not harmful, and only a small amount is required to make toast tasty for children.'

Head teacher: 'I am aware Marmite is not on the menu but I have no input into the content of the meals.'

The language is dead, deader than my desire to eat toast spread with 'low-fat polyunsaturated spread' and 'a reduced sugar jam'.

Sweet Dreams

mgrphhr okx khhhh GH? ahhhh
















phrgrbrrr. snrk

rarr: likelihood nr zzzzzzzzzzzz hrgl






















khsnrgl hrgh mlp mlp mlp. Xnax xnax srrrrrr

Feedback

Feedback from the latest job interview...

"His estimated verbal critical reasoning ability is well above average when compared to a Banking, Finance and Professional Services 2006 comparison group. His result is better than 99% of the people in this group. This suggests that he will display an exceptional level of ability in understand and evaluating written reports and documents.

He needed to display a more proactive approach and have a more active contribution to the team discussions".

i.e. I'm a geek. TY.

Well, I come across as a quiet, calm, objective, laid-back kind of a person. Works for me. But this is the third job interview in five months where it has not worked for me.

Any beautiful submissivettes reading this and willing to boost the economy in these troubled times by teaching me Domineering and getting me and my superlative talents back into productive work?

Nope? Maybe I should buy a fluffy puppy

and shout at it and kick it around the floor for a week or two.

A real puppy would be better for the yelps of pain and stuff.

Hmmm. Any of you Trappist monasteries out there needing a Project Manager?

Apocalypse Then

...and in the death
as the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy thoroughfare
the shutters lifted an inch in temperance building
high on poacher's hill
and red mutant eyes gazed down on hunger city
no more big wheels
fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats
and ten thousand peoploids split into small tribes
coveting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers
like packs of dogs assaulting the glass fronts of love-me avenue
ripping and re-wrapping mink and shiny silver fox
now leg-warmers
family badge of sapphire and cracked emerald
any day now
the Year of the Diamond Dogs...

This ain't rock'n' roll! This is genocide!

Bowie, Diamond Dogs, 1974.

And because I'm in the mood, the eerily beautiful "Sweet Thing"



I was working in the City for a stockbroker on Black Monday in 1987, responsible for developing and managing the trading floor software.

Walking onto the floor that morning and seeing red screens everywhere, I thought I must have made some terrible coding error, and began frantically wondering what I could have got wrong. It was a temporary relief to find out that the red was reality. That was my first taste of The Fear.

One of our traders was out in Ireland on a picnic and decided to show off to the girls by spending the day on his new-fangled mobile telephoonical device. "Buy! Hundred thousand ICI! Buy!"

It has always impressed me that all day not one of the traders he was buying from let on about the markets being in free-fall.

He lost more than £50m.

Sceptical Job Agents

Sceptical job agents.

Don'tcha just hate 'em?







From a job ad I was sent today...

"Candidates will have the opportunity to work in Brussels and enjoy the benefits of the stable Belgium economy and strong Euro."

Well, I suppose rubble is stable and strong, so maybe I'll go for it.

Sceptical candidates, don'tcha just hate 'em?

Mark to Market

Mr Paulson's bail-out bill includes the suspension of mark-to-market rules.

Which seems to mean that instead of having to say "may assets are worth what I can sell them for today" I can say "my assets are worth what I want them to be worth" or "my assets are worth what they were worth before they became worthless" or "my assets are worth what I think they might be worth one day, once they have ceased to be worthless".

Which is a bit of a boo if my assets really do have a useful market value: dodgy institutions can now pretend to be as sound as I am and the risks of lending to anyone therefore increase, which cannot help in a liquidity crisis.

I give up. I don't understand anything any more.

I will pour myself a very large whisky, settle down in my club chair, and laugh heartily as the Laws of Gresham, Unintended Consequences*, Murphy and so on inexorably work out their effects.

I recall that the Bank of England once prevented a run by having its liveried footmen deliver boxes of gold at the front door - under the eyes of the panicking depositors - then scamper round the back and deliver the same boxes again. Maybe a similar kind of swindle will work after all.

*
1) The Irish Government guarantees Irish bank deposits;
2) lots of people send their money to Ireland;
3) to the extent that the Irish Government cannot possibly afford to guarantee the deposits.

Immense Penis

Picture courtesy of Nurse Myra.








Aliens from Outer Space: Oh hh Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Blogista: Yap.

Aliens from Outer Space: What, you actually replied to our penis extension "spam" messages?

Blogista: Yappity yap. Every single one.

Aliens from Outer Space: What about the administrative messages from your bank or banks? Th' parttime job offers, th' work-at-home big opportunities?

Blogista: Never cut any ice, sir.

Aliens from Outer Space: So you have the biggest penis in the universe and we still don't know your bank account number?

Blogista: That's pretty well the way it is.

Chief Alien from Outer Space: Put this call on hold. Get me the Head of Spam, now.

Beautiful Titsy PA to the Chief Alien from Outer Space: Oohhhhhhhhh.

Project Manager (reporting up to Board level): Looks like he's having your PA through some kind of nth-dimensional wormhole. I'll put that down as a red "traffic light" on th' Risk Log.

Beautiful Titsy PA to the Chief Alien from Outer Space: Oh god I'm coming again.

Chief Alien from Outer Space: Add it to the Issue Log also.

Boy Beautiful

Nice pecs. I like the purple shading on the other musculature.

Nice bit of driftwood. It was just there on the beach and you decided to pick up on it and pose with it. Just because you are so spontaneous with flotsam.

Nice haircut. The sideburns dark and trimmed, the rest roughly ruffled and - well, we can all relate to peroxide and a dab of KY.

Pity about the penis.

Evvy day you are sent messages from well-wishing persons who only want to make your manhood bigger, or at least less small. Reply to them. You are thinking "spam"; I am thinking, you. And your future... get one, honeybuns.