The world is a tough place and let us not diminish it's impact. That said, sensible folk navigate life's minefield with care. The foolish man runs amok and suffers accordingly. The wise and prudent man treads carefully as if in a burning building.
Saturday, 19 November 2016
Friday, 18 November 2016
Tipton Secondary Modern c1972
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| It was a shit school- but burnt well |
I was rummaging through some old documents the other day when I found this newspaper clipping betwixt the pages of an old book, entitled: 'The Art of the Incendiary'. The news article concerned the tragic conflagration which engulfed my Alma Mater the day after I graduated.
The police came knocking on my door a few days later with all sorts of questions. And of course I had an alibi. On the morn of the fire I was in the company of fellow ex Tipton school pupil, Sally Ault. As I distinctly recall we were involved in extra curricula activities in my unkempt bedroom. Sally's testimony, bless her heart, was unshakable and remarkably consistent.
The evidence against me was circumstantial at best. And just because I'd had my shoulder length blond locks sheared on the afternoon of the incident proved nothing. The Inspector was unrelenting in his questioning and hung in there like a ferret clinging to a rabbit's neck. Confess, confess! Tis true the suspicious youth seen hanging about at the time matched my description exactly, as several witnesses were willing to attest, but I'm a great believer in doppelgangers and parallel universes and such. Wisely the witnesses had an epiphany and recanted. On second thoughts the youth's hair looked more mousy brown than golden hued. This ruled me out in a thrice. No way it could be me as I had just washed my golden locks which bedazzled in the sun and bathed the scene in an ethereal glow as if a cleansing H bomb had gone off in Tipton High Street. Here is a gratuitous tip: never use cheap shampoo or conditioner- false economy and I should know. Have I digressed? Anyway, without witnesses or a confession the poor Inspector was bereft of a conviction. No court in the land would have convicted on the evidence to hand and rightly so. It is better for ten guilty men to go free than one innocent man to be unjustly convicted. Isn't our justice system wonderful? The arsonistically (not a real word) inclined miscreant was never caught and probably lurks unrepentant within our very midst waiting for an opportunity to assuage a hunger which never abates.
Is there a statute of limitation on this sort of thing? I suspect after 44 years it would be very difficult to identify the perpetrator and gain a conviction. Best to let it go then, eh Inspector?
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| Sally on the day of our graduation- I wonder what she is doing now? |
Thursday, 17 November 2016
Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth......
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| There is a precedent for this sort of thing, ya know |
Arse big sore arse. Arse.
'O woe to the
Tiptonites’!
As soon as the ‘Plague
of Ferrets’ becomes manifest I’m buggering off to Australia.
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| Not as far fetched as you might think |
Monday, 14 November 2016
Did the earth move for you?
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| I see no ships |
For all the positives and advantages
of living in this wonderful country there is a downside. New Zealand
sits fair and square on multiple seismic fault lines. At midnight last night a
7.5 magnitude earthquake rocked large swathes of the South and North islands. I
awoke to violent shaking that seemed to go on forever. Vases crashed and the
house groaned. I went out onto the deck (probably not wise) and felt the piles
under the house sway side to side. After, what seemed an eternity, the shaking
stopped. All through the night we experienced major aftershocks. There has been significant damage to parts of
the country and as I write two people have
been killed, this is likely to increase as the emergency services scour remote
areas. My home city has suffered damage especially around the dock area. The Cook strait ferries remain anchored forlornly in the bay unable
to enter port until significant structural repairs are made.
Tsunami warnings have been issued
for much of the east coast on both islands however, at this time it is unlikely
that there will be a significant surge.
Tis wearing on the nerves especially
as aftershocks continue to occur at an alarming rate throughout the day. It
appears that this quake was as large as the one that devastated Napier in 1931
however, lucky for us the epicentre occurred in a sparsely populated region.
Still, the damage is major and likely to run into billions of dollars. As
this follows not long after the
And so life goes on. Hopefully no
more 'biggies' for a while as every tremor adds another
streak of silver to my crown of spun gold............
Friday, 11 November 2016
On the 11th Hour, of the 11th Day, of the 11th Month...
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| On Flander's Field |
Both poems
exude courage, but not of the same kind. Brooke should be read in a genteel
drawing room amidst applause from modest, silly young women, in bustles. Owen
is best read alone in a darkened garret by old men who have seen too much of
life. Tis best to be alone if you are going to shed a single, silent tear. If 'The Soldier' is uplifting in a
superficial emotional kind of way, 'Dulce
et Decorum Est' cools martial
ardour. The first poem is uplifting to the soldier going to war, the second
should never be heard, but whispered to Statesmen who contemplate war.
It is
salutary to note that both these brave young men lost their lives in this
terrible, modern defining, conflict. I often wonder how Brooke's poetry would
have evolved if he hadn't died in 1915? Imponderables can make men mad-
sensible men are content with this reality (not really).
Read and
weep, but in the right company
The Soldier
IF I
should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by the suns of home.
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by the suns of home.
And think, this heart, all
evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
Rupert
Brooke
Dulce
et Decorum Est
Bent
double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas!
GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime ...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under I green sea, I saw him drowning.
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime ...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under I green sea, I saw him drowning.
In
all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If
in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
Wilfred Owen
Thursday, 10 November 2016
Here Be Giants
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| Nothing to see here..... |
Large
Men in Black Suits
Enter the
CIA, stage left. Nefarious government agencies want access, or have already
gained access, to giant DNA in order to manufacture ‘super soldiers’ or ‘Uber
Men’. People who investigate too closely have been threatened and/or have
accidently plunged down disused mine shafts.The narrator, Steve Quayle, reckons
he has spent the last 40 years of his life investigating this most disturbing
and perplexing phenomenon and believes people should be told and prepared
before it is too late. How we, the people, can be fully prepared to fight off a
division of 20 foot, super soldiers, he doesn’t say. I have a problem getting
out of bed in the morning and the thought of confronting a giant in combat gear is
likely to encourage me to stay in bed a little longer. Don’t we have Batman,
Wolverine and the Hulk to save us from hybrid giant mutants? I’m starting to digress.
Blood
and Fluids
Predictably,
Mr Mugumbo, sorry Quayle, offers no corroborative evidence whatsoever. Not a
jot. No images or independent testimony. Nowt. However, he did intersperse his
video with the usual stock scenes of scientific endeavour; coloured fluids
flowing through tubes and blood being squirted into tubes. At the end he
finishes with a barely relevant quote from arguably the greatest intellect who
has ever lived, Sir Isaac Newton. And here it is:
"About the time of the end, a body of
men will be raised up who we turn their attention to the Prophecies, and insist
upon their literal interpretation, in the midst of much clamour and
opposition"
Newton,
for all his scientific rationalism and sagacity was a bible literalist, an
alchemist and a firm believer in magic. All this is understandable considering
the scientific and religious milieu of his time. You can read more about
Newton's preoccupation with the esoteric, here.
What
happened to the scientific revolution and adherence to good evidence?
Unsupported
hints, drama and unwarranted speculation. Mr Quayle places great store in the
rumours of cannibalism in the Solomon Islands during the Second World War. He
asserts, with no justification whatsoever, that both American and Japanese
troops (Japanese snipers perhaps?) were eaten by giants during the island
campaign. Even if cannibalism did occur at this time, is it not more likely
that the acts were performed by the Solomon Islanders themselves? This appears
to be a more plausible explanation considering the native's proclivity for
consuming human flesh, especially brains. Occam's razor anyone?
Who
needs evidence when you have giants?
Nowhere
during the video is there any concrete evidence proposed for the existence of
giants currently roaming the earth. Innuendo and hearsay- nothing that would
stand up in a court of law.
There
is no God
For
amusement, but not edification, I visited a site which is considered 'Pro-giant'.
Dutifully I entered the poll concerning a belief in giants. Ninety % of
respondents believed in said monsters. Not particularly surprising/inspiring considering
the declared nature of the site. Then again, 12 million of the American public
believe that their country is being ruled by lizard people and 41 million are
of the opinion that Barak Obama is the Antichrist, go figure?
Story
needs zombies (and hot gypos)
This
video has almost got it all: government conspiracy at the highest level; hidden
mythical creatures ready to pounce; biblical prophecy akimbo; tubes and cannibalism. All it needs, for completion, is a few hot
gypsies jelly wrestling. On second thoughts I might just be
adding my own preference with regard to the jelly wresting (don't
knock it until you've tried it).
Therefore,
in conclusion, this video panders to humankind's atavistic needs and satisfies
the vulnerable and emotional susceptibilities of the usual suspects: the terminally hard
of thinking, ill-educated morass of blinkered idiots and fools. Gullible folk
without a critical thought in their head, who are willing to accept the most preposterous
assertions without hard data.
Frankly,
I live in hope and despair for mankind in equal proportion.
And
another thing. Why isn’t jelly wrestling an Olympic sport, yet?
Sunday, 6 November 2016
Gravity II
A concerned
reader writes: "Dear Flaxen, I confess I'm
a little worried about your mental state. Your writings lately seem
even more bizarre than usual and what is this pre-occupation with Japanese
snipers all about? Surely there hasn't been any Japanese snipers hereabouts for over 70
years."
FS: "Thank you
for your heartfelt concern. I assure you I am quite sane. My psychiatrist,
Prof. Mugumbo, reckons I'm toward the extreme end of the 'normality' spectrum,
so there are no grounds for your concern. I'm not expected to descend into the
black pit of insanity any time soon.
As for the obsession
with Japanese snipers: Aren't we all just a
little afraid of Japanese snipers? Isn't there a Japanese sniper nestling deep in
all of our psyches, dwelling in dark hardly fathomable places within?"
Just to
show how sensible and sane I've become I've decided to write a very, very,
sensible post about gravity.
I wrote a
piece over a year ago about the mysterious force of gravity. You can check it
out here. Newton
in the 17th century was able to describe this mysterious force very well but had no idea
what it actually was and how it could operate at a distance. Gravity is the
weakest of all the physical forces and is dependant on mass. Simply said, the greater
the mass, the greater the force. A force which decreases between two objects according
to the inverse square law.
The great
insight of Einstein was to realise that gravity is not a force as such but the
consequence of mass distorting space/time. Space is an actual physical entity
which can be warped and bent by mass. The greater the mass, the greater the
distortion. In this regard gravity represents an artefact of matter-how weird is
that?
Einstein
predicted that mass should initiate gravitational waves propagated at the speed
of light and ever since physicists have been trying unsuccessfully, until now,
to detect these elusive phantoms of the universe. The problem is that gravitational
waves, or ripples in the fabric of space time, are hard to detect. Only
catastrophic stellar events are expected to produce waves within our modest
capability of detection. Thus, massive twin black holes orbiting each other, or
other prodigious events, are required to produce ripples in space-time large
enough to be picked up on earth.
Enter the LIGO
(Laser Interferometer Gravity Observatory) programme in the US . This
ambitious programme was designed to detect gossamer, ephemeral, gravity waves.
In principle the concept is simple. Shoot light down a 4 km vacuum tunnel and
bounce the light off mirrors thus increasing the distance the light has to
travel. Before the journey the light is split into two rays and off they set in
different directions through the labyrinth. Ultimately the separated light
beams are reunited at a detector. If the beams arrive back at the detector at
exactly the same time, then paradoxically, there is nothing to detect as the
merging light rays cancel each other out. I don't have space to introduce the
concept of electromagnetic wave interference here. However, there are some
great resources on the web and a quick Google search will satisfy your
curiosity for intellectual enlightenment.
According
to LIGO researchers, they managed to detect the union of two black holes 1.3 billion
years ago. The gravitational waves engendered meandered at the sedate pedestrian
speed of 186,000 miles per second and became manifest at earth to impinge on
LIGO's light rays as they pulsed through their 4km plus sprint. This
incredibly faint ghost of the event was picked up by LIGO's detectors in
September last year. You bet someone(s) is going to reap a Nobel prize for this
and deservedly so for detecting a change a thousand times smaller than
the width of a proton. The tiny ripple in space time interferes
with the light beams and when they are reunited they are no longer in perfect phase.
This phase interference can be detected and measured. In fact there are two
detectors, one in Louisiana , the other in Washington . For a result
to be considered significant, simultaneous detection of the gravitational wave is
required by both instruments.
So what
does this mean for the future direction of cosmological research? To date, all
that we know about the universe is down to the detection of electromagnetic
radiation of varying wavelengths. The ability to detect gravitational waves
opens up a whole new vista of research and will allow clever physicists to
explore the nature and fabric of the universe in ways novel and diverse. I will endeavour to inform as the story develops.
Isn't science just fucking wonderful?
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| Ripples in space and time |
Ya see? If I was stark raving bonkers mad I wouldn't be able to pen such a serious blog article, now would I? soapy tit wank.
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