Ham. Oh yes, the great beast of legend has returned to eat our souls and fill our nostrils with aids! Mwuhahaha!
Is it just me or does practically everything give you cancer? Or heart disease. Or makes your testicles swell up and take on a life of their own, rampaging down the high street armed with a pair of nuclear powered chopsticks, molesting your children, driving down property prices and stealing your personal information to sell to the highest bidder, a man who runs an Icelandic bank who will then run off to spend your savings on hardcore Vietnamese goat porn?
Makes you think doesn’t it. I’m half tempted to fund scientific research of my own that will conclude with “The X-chromosome gives you cancer. All attempts to treat it will give you cancer. Worrying about it will give you cancer. We are ALL screwed now get on with your lives, you gullible, paranoid, fish brained butt monkeys. PS. Further research in this field will give you cancer”.
Now the average person is fairly smart, but when surrounded by so many health warnings, who wouldn’t become a little paranoid? We are already concerned with our own finances, health, our jobs, our kids education, war, famine, artichokes, the bubonic plague etc without it being constantly added to whenever a piece of flawed, biased and just plain stupid research surfaces from the primordial soup. Can you imagine taking a child that is worried about the monster under their bed and saying “That’s nothing! There’s bird flu, old men that want to touch you in the pants, aids, all manner of shit exploding and endless re-runs of Friends to be scared of too!”
Ethically you shouldn’t scare the living piss out of people unless you either have a very good reason or are a total gimp, and I do have to wonder which category these so called “researchers” fit into.
Take war for example. War is a terrible thing, something to be avoided whenever possible, yet now it is televised. We don’t get radio broadcasts and grainy, black and white pictures of troops neck deep in the dark and brown like in the good old days. We no longer have the comfort of a reasonable degree of detachment so we can all get on with our lives in the meanwhile. We hear the names and circumstances involved in every roadside bomb. We see each individual grieving family, the little girls who have lost their daddy, the heaped flowers outside a soldiers home.
We see each and every Asian guy who is less than satisfied with this country, even if their reasons are legitimate, held up as if he was caught drowning kittens in caustic soda. We then hear the details of his benefit history; as if there aren’t white people out there scrounging for all they’re worth too. Sure, it makes me mad that people who hate this country have the brass balls to sit and claim benefits and make up bullshit claims for why they don’t have to work, but there are far fewer of them than there are perfectly able bodied white people who could work but can’t be bothered. Not to mention women who are quite open with the fact that they don’t see why they should work when the government will fund them to sit at home and knock out children like there is no tomorrow.
All these people steal money from people with genuine disability and people who deserve the help of the benefit system, to prop them up so they can rejoin the workforce later and educate their children properly. But the way the media makes it sound is like all people on benefits are scummers.
Is it true that Polish migrant workers can claim disability benefit for their disabled children who do not live here? Yes it is. Is that a fair reason to hate all the Polish migrants? No it isn’t.
The British media has become a huge, bloated old witch stirring up a cauldron full of misery, throwing in statistics to fool us into believing they have anything of value to tell us.
Is this news to anyone? No, probably not, but that is not what concerns me.
What worries me is that one day, in the wake of the BSE scares, Bird Flu, Bovine TB, SARS, Terrorism, Megan Fox and bras that will rise up and sacrifice you to the Blood God, I am seriously concerned that when something serious actually DOES come along, we will all be so sick of bloody hearing it that no-one will believe it and, in the biggest case of “little boy who cried wolf” in human history we really will all be in deep shit.
But nevermind, I’m sure that when we are all scrabbling for the last few tins of food and murdering each other for the last copy of “What Hi-fi” magazine, there will be an idiot there to film it all for the evening news.
And they will probably blame the Coalition Government.
Friday, 21 May 2010
Monday, 17 May 2010
Hung Parliament? We’re not getting everything we want? Right, that’s it. SEND IN THE UNCLEAN!
This is a brief thank you to the group of morons currently camped outside of parliament square in London, in protest at the fact we are not likely to be getting the sort of electoral reform that some of us wanted.
I voted for the Liberal Democrats at the last election and am proud of that fact. I am also proud of the way in which Nick Clegg and his people have conducted themselves after the fact, helping to set up what they would consider the best government we have available at the moment.
I am pleased that when there are issues that are unacceptable there are pressure groups and people who go out onto the streets in protest, waving their banners and placards in safety, given that we live in a country where they are free to do this without being dispersed with tear gas and rubber bullets.
What displeases me is the conduct of the idiots that have been out to buy tents from the favela section in Millets and set up on the lawn outside parliament. Why? Because I believe they are doing much more harm than good and because of the slapdash attitude they have taken to the whole affair.
“We will only leave if we are evicted by force or if our demands are met”. Followed by a laundry list of demands including electoral reform, ending the war in Afghanistan, making Ed Balls change his name to something that doesn’t make me giggle and free machines that go PING! for every hospital in the land.
Now if you want to organise a protest that will garner support from the general public, there are a few simple rules which you should follow.
Firstly, it has to have a permit if it is within one mile of parliament square. Was it too much to ask that you organise the damn thing properly? Now the police are immediately involved and as soon as any of you does anything at all that could be considered nuisance behaviour, it will be shut down and you will be moved on and it will be your own fault. Believe me, they are waiting for this to happen and their response will be well organised and rapid, as if they had been expecting this to happen. Funny that…
Secondly, keep it clean! Nobody will sympathise with you if you dump all your rubbish everywhere making the place look like Glastonbury bloody festival. Nobody takes any notice of stupid people in tents, up to their necks in their own detritus. Remember Swampy? He was a media darling for quite some time when the council wanted to build a motorway across Bambi’s forehead, but nobody really took him seriously. He was a novelty, little more. To get something like electoral reform we need to be taken seriously, not as some bunch of bleeding heart Muppets littering Parliament Square with McDonald’s wrappers.
Lastly, if you want something done, even in the dim hopes of a successful protest, you need to have a clear message for the powers that be. Chants of “What do we want?!?” “Your agreement to implement points one to eighteen, with particular attention to annexes one to fourteen in section two and an end to the war in Afghanistan with reference to the issues raised in the appendices section part four, paragraph two” will not work. You need a clear and concise message or you look like a bunch of whining, far left wing idiots. Ordinarily that would not bother me, but this time you are representing an issue that is of great importance to a great many people and your behaviour is acting in detriment to this cause.
The Lib Dems are in a position to make things better, even if not to make them the way that a lot of us want. But you must remember that those that are against electoral reform are going to hold you up as an example of the kind of people that want this reform. We need to be seen as serious, dedicated and intelligent people in order to be given the time of day and setting up a shanty town next door to the seats of power is not the way to do it.
Please either clean up your act, re-organise this properly or simply get the fuck out of London, because you are damaging the cause and making us all look stupid.
Thanks, disgruntled in Cornwall.
I voted for the Liberal Democrats at the last election and am proud of that fact. I am also proud of the way in which Nick Clegg and his people have conducted themselves after the fact, helping to set up what they would consider the best government we have available at the moment.
I am pleased that when there are issues that are unacceptable there are pressure groups and people who go out onto the streets in protest, waving their banners and placards in safety, given that we live in a country where they are free to do this without being dispersed with tear gas and rubber bullets.
What displeases me is the conduct of the idiots that have been out to buy tents from the favela section in Millets and set up on the lawn outside parliament. Why? Because I believe they are doing much more harm than good and because of the slapdash attitude they have taken to the whole affair.
“We will only leave if we are evicted by force or if our demands are met”. Followed by a laundry list of demands including electoral reform, ending the war in Afghanistan, making Ed Balls change his name to something that doesn’t make me giggle and free machines that go PING! for every hospital in the land.
Now if you want to organise a protest that will garner support from the general public, there are a few simple rules which you should follow.
Firstly, it has to have a permit if it is within one mile of parliament square. Was it too much to ask that you organise the damn thing properly? Now the police are immediately involved and as soon as any of you does anything at all that could be considered nuisance behaviour, it will be shut down and you will be moved on and it will be your own fault. Believe me, they are waiting for this to happen and their response will be well organised and rapid, as if they had been expecting this to happen. Funny that…
Secondly, keep it clean! Nobody will sympathise with you if you dump all your rubbish everywhere making the place look like Glastonbury bloody festival. Nobody takes any notice of stupid people in tents, up to their necks in their own detritus. Remember Swampy? He was a media darling for quite some time when the council wanted to build a motorway across Bambi’s forehead, but nobody really took him seriously. He was a novelty, little more. To get something like electoral reform we need to be taken seriously, not as some bunch of bleeding heart Muppets littering Parliament Square with McDonald’s wrappers.
Lastly, if you want something done, even in the dim hopes of a successful protest, you need to have a clear message for the powers that be. Chants of “What do we want?!?” “Your agreement to implement points one to eighteen, with particular attention to annexes one to fourteen in section two and an end to the war in Afghanistan with reference to the issues raised in the appendices section part four, paragraph two” will not work. You need a clear and concise message or you look like a bunch of whining, far left wing idiots. Ordinarily that would not bother me, but this time you are representing an issue that is of great importance to a great many people and your behaviour is acting in detriment to this cause.
The Lib Dems are in a position to make things better, even if not to make them the way that a lot of us want. But you must remember that those that are against electoral reform are going to hold you up as an example of the kind of people that want this reform. We need to be seen as serious, dedicated and intelligent people in order to be given the time of day and setting up a shanty town next door to the seats of power is not the way to do it.
Please either clean up your act, re-organise this properly or simply get the fuck out of London, because you are damaging the cause and making us all look stupid.
Thanks, disgruntled in Cornwall.
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Come on then! Come on! I'll bite yer ankles ya giant bastard!
Since the first utterances, those first vestigial syllables that came a tumbling out of the mouth of what can just about be called a human being, sat somewhere on the plains, poking their own faeces with a stick, words have had power.
There are words which vent frustration, words that show rage, ones for the expression of love and adoration for another, words that comfort and words that will endure long after those who spoke them are gone.
Then there are words which fill you with an intense mixture of feelings as their foul and pestilential tang disrupts your humours until you want to burst your eardrums with a screwdriver so as to never have to hear them again. And among these, there are two which irk me most of all.
DANNY DYER.
Don't know him? Well it doesn't matter, because you've met him. Yes, you really have. Remember at school the huge kid, the one that had bigger knuckles than brains? Used to beat the living hell out of kids that would have stood no chance had they come armed with a chainsaw? Right, now remember the weedly, smirking little prick that stood behind that kid,goading his trollish master onto further acts of violence and torment? Hid behind him because he was far too chicken shit to ever actually take anyone on himself but loved to hang out with the hard kids and thought he was the dogs back wheels?
That's him, at least it is to all intents and purposes. I cannot fucking stand Danny Dyer, he is a total and utter pussy yet likes to hang around with some thoroughly hard blokes like Jason Statham and Vinnie Jones and bask in the reflective glory of how tough his mates are.
He hosts that show, you know, worlds hardest Ice Cream van drivers etc? Standing there posturing like a fucking peacock, swaggering around like the hardest man in the world, until the tough guy that is the basis for the show inevitably beats the everlasting crap out of him and shows him to be the pansy that he truly is.
Now why do I have a problem with Danny Dyer? Because I hate bullies.
I have been bullied myself and have stood up for people in my life whenever I have been able to and that has a lot to do with why I am the slightly sociopathic, ranting nutjob I am. But I got over it, grew up, got some perspective and learned to take care of myself, no thanks to wankers like Danny Dyer.
His response when asked by a reader of his low-level wankmag column how to deal with a very upsetting breakup from a girl he had been truly in love with?
"You could do A, B, C, or you could just cut her face so no-one else would ever want her".
Charming, you little shithead. And now you are trying to claim you were "miss-quoted". How exactly? Cup her face was it? You didn't want to pie and mash her boat race? Oh right, I forgot, like all bullies you squeal like a little piggy when you are confronted over your actions because you don't even have the balls to back it up.
Mr Dyer, I honestly hope that the next person you annoy takes you to task for the things you do and say. You think there is anything funny about domestic violence? Guess again. I know you will claim that you didn't mean it, or it was out of context or whatever, but you know the truth. You know exactly the kind of man you are and one day, when you open your mouth too far, someone will be waiting for you and your hard mates won't be around to protect you.
Now that is a TV program i would definately tune in for.
There are words which vent frustration, words that show rage, ones for the expression of love and adoration for another, words that comfort and words that will endure long after those who spoke them are gone.
Then there are words which fill you with an intense mixture of feelings as their foul and pestilential tang disrupts your humours until you want to burst your eardrums with a screwdriver so as to never have to hear them again. And among these, there are two which irk me most of all.
DANNY DYER.
Don't know him? Well it doesn't matter, because you've met him. Yes, you really have. Remember at school the huge kid, the one that had bigger knuckles than brains? Used to beat the living hell out of kids that would have stood no chance had they come armed with a chainsaw? Right, now remember the weedly, smirking little prick that stood behind that kid,goading his trollish master onto further acts of violence and torment? Hid behind him because he was far too chicken shit to ever actually take anyone on himself but loved to hang out with the hard kids and thought he was the dogs back wheels?
That's him, at least it is to all intents and purposes. I cannot fucking stand Danny Dyer, he is a total and utter pussy yet likes to hang around with some thoroughly hard blokes like Jason Statham and Vinnie Jones and bask in the reflective glory of how tough his mates are.
He hosts that show, you know, worlds hardest Ice Cream van drivers etc? Standing there posturing like a fucking peacock, swaggering around like the hardest man in the world, until the tough guy that is the basis for the show inevitably beats the everlasting crap out of him and shows him to be the pansy that he truly is.
Now why do I have a problem with Danny Dyer? Because I hate bullies.
I have been bullied myself and have stood up for people in my life whenever I have been able to and that has a lot to do with why I am the slightly sociopathic, ranting nutjob I am. But I got over it, grew up, got some perspective and learned to take care of myself, no thanks to wankers like Danny Dyer.
His response when asked by a reader of his low-level wankmag column how to deal with a very upsetting breakup from a girl he had been truly in love with?
"You could do A, B, C, or you could just cut her face so no-one else would ever want her".
Charming, you little shithead. And now you are trying to claim you were "miss-quoted". How exactly? Cup her face was it? You didn't want to pie and mash her boat race? Oh right, I forgot, like all bullies you squeal like a little piggy when you are confronted over your actions because you don't even have the balls to back it up.
Mr Dyer, I honestly hope that the next person you annoy takes you to task for the things you do and say. You think there is anything funny about domestic violence? Guess again. I know you will claim that you didn't mean it, or it was out of context or whatever, but you know the truth. You know exactly the kind of man you are and one day, when you open your mouth too far, someone will be waiting for you and your hard mates won't be around to protect you.
Now that is a TV program i would definately tune in for.
Thursday, 6 May 2010
A rant in all its pure, simplistic beauty.
Ding dong the iPod's dead! Hooray! Stupid bloody shiny piece of monkey rectum gave up the ghost this morning in response to absolutely nothing whatsoever.
Now the loss of an iPod is one thing, but thanks to how bloody ridiculous and stupid Apples software is, all of the music I have paid for from iTunes cannot be copied directly onto my wifes Creative Zen! I have to now buy a load of blank cd's to copy it onto disc, then back onto the computer so I can play music I have already paid for!
Now I wouldn't mind, but I do not illegally download music, so I have to pay AGAIN a small sum to play music I HAVE ALREADY PAID FOR!
That and iTunes has completely and totally fucked up all of the locations of the music files on my computer, and deleted music from iTunes that I downloaded which I now cannot get back without paying for it again!
Thank you Apple, I sincerely hope you do not fall down the stairs onto a skateboard full of rusty nails that give you tetinus, before rolling down the road with you still stuck to it and rolling in front of a truck which knocks you into the air, where you are sucked into the rapidly twirling blades of a jet engine which shreds you and fires your vaporised remains over a forty square mile radius.
Thank you.
P.s. FUCK YOU APPLE!
PRICKS!
Now the loss of an iPod is one thing, but thanks to how bloody ridiculous and stupid Apples software is, all of the music I have paid for from iTunes cannot be copied directly onto my wifes Creative Zen! I have to now buy a load of blank cd's to copy it onto disc, then back onto the computer so I can play music I have already paid for!
Now I wouldn't mind, but I do not illegally download music, so I have to pay AGAIN a small sum to play music I HAVE ALREADY PAID FOR!
That and iTunes has completely and totally fucked up all of the locations of the music files on my computer, and deleted music from iTunes that I downloaded which I now cannot get back without paying for it again!
Thank you Apple, I sincerely hope you do not fall down the stairs onto a skateboard full of rusty nails that give you tetinus, before rolling down the road with you still stuck to it and rolling in front of a truck which knocks you into the air, where you are sucked into the rapidly twirling blades of a jet engine which shreds you and fires your vaporised remains over a forty square mile radius.
Thank you.
P.s. FUCK YOU APPLE!
PRICKS!
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
DONT USE THE TOASTER! IT MIGHT GIVE YOU HERPES!
Well the mad scientists over at Twatville University have done it again, gifting the world with their unique scientific insight and saving us all from ourselves. Now, what exactly were we doing wrong this time? Giving ourselves cancer again. Oh, silly, silly us. And what were we doing this time? Filling our Y-fronts with depleted uranium? Microwaving our testes? No, something much more stupid than that.
We were putting the light on when we get up in the night to go for a leak.
I know, I know. Dumb isn’t it?
Apparently, putting a light on while it is night time buggers up your circadian rhythm and yadda yadda yadda, increases your chances of contracting cancer.
They found this, because when they woke up group A Laboratory mice without a light and group B Laboratory mice with a light, Group B suffered more cancers.
Now look, I understand that it is important to find those things in the environment that make us sick and learn how to deal with them, but how in the hell can this research be justified as being of any use to mankind? Were the tumour riddled bodies of previously healthy people found huddled on the bathroom floor at three in the morning with the lights on? Heck no, and to me this smacks of a group of pseudo-scientist pillocks trying to justify their departments existence by producing anything that alludes to a possible reduction in the C-WORD. No, not that C-word…
I agree with the use of laboratory rodents to find cures and treatments for serious human ailments to save us at the expense of a small, short lived animal. What I cannot abide is giving an animal cancer and producing absolutely no useful information from it. That is disgusting, vulgar and no better than throwing a big bag of mice into an open fire. Are people going to get a 0.01% increase in the risk of contracting cancer from turning on a light while they pee? Perhaps. Would 100% of married women, considering our aiming expertise during the day, be much happier knowing that their husbands were not peeing in the dark? Hell yeah!
Now let me make this clear. Mice are nervous creatures, and the poor little things suffer from cancer, especially if they are stressed. If you increase the amount of stress (say by waking them up with a bright light as opposed to not) you will increase the chances of giving the poor little buggers cancer, so this “Science”, tells us absolutely nothing.
But how about this. In the full knowledge and acceptance that I am sacrificing the lives of hundreds of cancer ridden mice to do it, I propose that I repeat this experiment only with one important difference. The first group are woken up gently with a Wagner track playing, the second are woken up with Coldplay blaring out loudly with a giant, neon-lit picture of Chris Martin dangling in front of their tiny faces. It’s no more scientific, but the results would do the world a damn sight more good.
We were putting the light on when we get up in the night to go for a leak.
I know, I know. Dumb isn’t it?
Apparently, putting a light on while it is night time buggers up your circadian rhythm and yadda yadda yadda, increases your chances of contracting cancer.
They found this, because when they woke up group A Laboratory mice without a light and group B Laboratory mice with a light, Group B suffered more cancers.
Now look, I understand that it is important to find those things in the environment that make us sick and learn how to deal with them, but how in the hell can this research be justified as being of any use to mankind? Were the tumour riddled bodies of previously healthy people found huddled on the bathroom floor at three in the morning with the lights on? Heck no, and to me this smacks of a group of pseudo-scientist pillocks trying to justify their departments existence by producing anything that alludes to a possible reduction in the C-WORD. No, not that C-word…
I agree with the use of laboratory rodents to find cures and treatments for serious human ailments to save us at the expense of a small, short lived animal. What I cannot abide is giving an animal cancer and producing absolutely no useful information from it. That is disgusting, vulgar and no better than throwing a big bag of mice into an open fire. Are people going to get a 0.01% increase in the risk of contracting cancer from turning on a light while they pee? Perhaps. Would 100% of married women, considering our aiming expertise during the day, be much happier knowing that their husbands were not peeing in the dark? Hell yeah!
Now let me make this clear. Mice are nervous creatures, and the poor little things suffer from cancer, especially if they are stressed. If you increase the amount of stress (say by waking them up with a bright light as opposed to not) you will increase the chances of giving the poor little buggers cancer, so this “Science”, tells us absolutely nothing.
But how about this. In the full knowledge and acceptance that I am sacrificing the lives of hundreds of cancer ridden mice to do it, I propose that I repeat this experiment only with one important difference. The first group are woken up gently with a Wagner track playing, the second are woken up with Coldplay blaring out loudly with a giant, neon-lit picture of Chris Martin dangling in front of their tiny faces. It’s no more scientific, but the results would do the world a damn sight more good.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
Hey kids it’s pocket money time! Now you promise you wont spend this money on crack, right?
Right well, here we go with todays mind buggeringly pathetic headline from Yahoo! News, “£10 a week to stop pregnant women smoking”.
*Sounds of muffled yelling, as of someone screaming expletives into a cushion*.
Ok I’m back. Cue the slow clapping Mr Government think tank! I can see you really did your homework on this one! Did you interview a few pregnant smokers? If so, how did that go?
“Quit smoking while pregnant, it could lead to a dangerously low birth-weight!”
“You mean I’ll have to push less and the baby will be smaller, so labour will be less painful?”
“Oh, well that’s not really what we were going for there. Umm, Ah ha! Smoking can impede the development of a childs lungs, leaving them gasping for air in an incubator for the first weeks of their lives and affect their general health by leaving them at risk to infection with an immune system unable to cope! It may also give them asthma which could seriously affect their life until the day they die!”
“Yeah but I like don’t smoke that many anyway, and I used to smoke loads more and pregnancy is well stressful innit, and I’ve got asthma already anyway (puts down fag to take huge lungful of inhaler) so the baby will probably get that anyway. It’s called like genetic predisposition or somefin innit”.
“What? Oh go on, please? Please quit smoking? Pretty please? I’ll give you a tenner…”
That’s right, some prick thinks it’s a good idea to wheel out the money catapult again! Sure, the NHS already provides stop smoking services for free and Nicorette gum and inhalators on prescription. Which are free to pregnant women anyway, but try to drown the problem with cash? Well that’s a splendid idea! Just like the £30 a month we give to AS and A-level students just to turn up to a course they opted to take in the first place! Why didn’t I think of this? Because I’m not a raving great DILDO that’s why!
Has it come to this? Are we using petty bribery to try and solve a social and medical issue? We’re spending a massive amount of money on guilt tripping everyone into trying to bag their farts to lessen their carbon footprint, (at the same time offering £2000 scrappage bonuses when people trade in their old car for a new one, sending plenty of re-usable second hand cars to the scrap heap, to be replaced with a new one, the production of which far outstrips the damage done by driving the aforementioned banger until it was actually ready to be scrapped. Thus neatly costing us all millions and buggering up the planet at the same time….) why not spend some of this on better education? I know our mid-wife would have hit the fucking ROOF if either of us had smoked while ‘er indoors was up the spout!
Or how about something simpler. How about “Smoking during pregnancy does this this this this and this to the unborn child. This can lead to this this this this and this. Smoking is bad for your baby. Quit smoking, or we will hold you personally and legally responsible for any repercussions your child suffers as a result. You have been warned”.
Basically an “official” and legally binding way to say “You hurta your child, we breaka your face!”
Well that’s another rant, I’ve been the Vampiric Chicken, and now I hear the dulcet tones of children jumping up and down on the roof of my car. I’m going to go bribe them with tins of Ambrosia Devon Custard (Devon knows how they make it so creamy). If that doesn’t work, I’m going to fucking shoot them.
*Sounds of muffled yelling, as of someone screaming expletives into a cushion*.
Ok I’m back. Cue the slow clapping Mr Government think tank! I can see you really did your homework on this one! Did you interview a few pregnant smokers? If so, how did that go?
“Quit smoking while pregnant, it could lead to a dangerously low birth-weight!”
“You mean I’ll have to push less and the baby will be smaller, so labour will be less painful?”
“Oh, well that’s not really what we were going for there. Umm, Ah ha! Smoking can impede the development of a childs lungs, leaving them gasping for air in an incubator for the first weeks of their lives and affect their general health by leaving them at risk to infection with an immune system unable to cope! It may also give them asthma which could seriously affect their life until the day they die!”
“Yeah but I like don’t smoke that many anyway, and I used to smoke loads more and pregnancy is well stressful innit, and I’ve got asthma already anyway (puts down fag to take huge lungful of inhaler) so the baby will probably get that anyway. It’s called like genetic predisposition or somefin innit”.
“What? Oh go on, please? Please quit smoking? Pretty please? I’ll give you a tenner…”
That’s right, some prick thinks it’s a good idea to wheel out the money catapult again! Sure, the NHS already provides stop smoking services for free and Nicorette gum and inhalators on prescription. Which are free to pregnant women anyway, but try to drown the problem with cash? Well that’s a splendid idea! Just like the £30 a month we give to AS and A-level students just to turn up to a course they opted to take in the first place! Why didn’t I think of this? Because I’m not a raving great DILDO that’s why!
Has it come to this? Are we using petty bribery to try and solve a social and medical issue? We’re spending a massive amount of money on guilt tripping everyone into trying to bag their farts to lessen their carbon footprint, (at the same time offering £2000 scrappage bonuses when people trade in their old car for a new one, sending plenty of re-usable second hand cars to the scrap heap, to be replaced with a new one, the production of which far outstrips the damage done by driving the aforementioned banger until it was actually ready to be scrapped. Thus neatly costing us all millions and buggering up the planet at the same time….) why not spend some of this on better education? I know our mid-wife would have hit the fucking ROOF if either of us had smoked while ‘er indoors was up the spout!
Or how about something simpler. How about “Smoking during pregnancy does this this this this and this to the unborn child. This can lead to this this this this and this. Smoking is bad for your baby. Quit smoking, or we will hold you personally and legally responsible for any repercussions your child suffers as a result. You have been warned”.
Basically an “official” and legally binding way to say “You hurta your child, we breaka your face!”
Well that’s another rant, I’ve been the Vampiric Chicken, and now I hear the dulcet tones of children jumping up and down on the roof of my car. I’m going to go bribe them with tins of Ambrosia Devon Custard (Devon knows how they make it so creamy). If that doesn’t work, I’m going to fucking shoot them.
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Vampiric Chicken Vikings, ATTAAAAAACK!
Right ok, lunch nice and hot, Volbeat on the iPod and an annoying notion in my mind.
Right. Go!
Norrie May-Welby. Not a name you are likely to be familiar with, but a name that had me shaking my head at the over whelming pointlessness this morning at the headline “Briton becomes world’s first OFFICIALLY genderless person”. What the hell does that mean?
Let me start by saying this is in no way a personal or homophobic attack, but it’s just the stupid implications of this “news” that have got my back up. The Australian authorities declared themselves unable to determine the actual gender of Norrie’s body. Now, Norrie was born a man, but had a sex change back in the eighties at some point. Since then, she didn’t feel that female was appropriate either, so had surgery to make herself basically gender neutral. Fair enough, whatever it takes to make you happy, right? Well yeah, it’s important to feel happy in your own body, after all, it is the only thing that truly belongs to you and no-one else, but here’s the thing. The term gender has bugger all to do with biology. No, don’t start to disagree just yet, look it up from a reputable source and you will find that I am correct. Your SEX is a biological fact. Quite simply, you either have Y-chromosomes or you do not. If you do, you are male. If you do not, you are female. (This is a simplification, it is not always xx or xy, you can have xyy, xxy, even xxxy, look up super-males, bloody interesting if you are into genetics).
The thing is, gender is the thoughts, feelings, behaviours, stereotypes and emotional attributes that a given culture associates with each of the two sexes, and these are not always the same cross culturally. The Amazonian warriors for example. Typically, they have a male gender role as we would see it, but are still female. But I digress. Where the hell does “officially” come into it? Is this an attempt to make life easier for Norrie? Maybe. But what the hell is the point? Ok, be whatever you want to be, but is this something Norrie can put on their passport? What the hell do we call him/her now? Is it to become un-pc to call her her? Or him? What about IT? Is that fair, or even in any way helpful? No, but sadly, that is what is likely to happen.
Or does this go back to something basic, stupid and really damned annoying. People don’t like to use the word sex. Think about it, are you ever asked for your SEX on a form anymore? Nope, it’s always GENDER these days, which is not right, whatever some weasely little tit with a clip board might tell you. Sexes. There are two of them. Male and Female. There are also two basic genders. Essentially, Masculine, feminine, and degrees thereof. Hey, don’t get me wrong, there should be allowances made for the fact that it is perfectly possible for there to be hermaphrodites. But do you know how many TRUE hermaphrodites there have ever been? And by true, I mean having both male AND female organs (not just a vagina and vestigial penis or vice versa, but one functioning ovary, one testicle etc). Have a guess? Put it this way, you can count them on one hand. Last I researched it at University, there had only ever been one. And no, someone with ambiguous sexual organs, under-developed genitals or growth deficiencies DOES NOT count. I cannot see any way in which this daft judgement call is going to help Norrie, rather it is likely to make things harder as people are going to have no clue how do deal with her.
Stupidly, no-one has mentioned a psychological evaluation to determine her gender, they have based this “OFFICIAL” declaration entirely upon a medical examination. Well, that’s like a bit like trying to discover someone’s religious beliefs by giving them a fucking MRI scan.
Let us take this to a ridiculous conclusion, shall we? I like beer, large edged weapons, breaking things, growing my hair long and have a penchant for comely wenches. Right, that’s it. I’m going to the court of human rights to be “OFFICIALLY” declared a Viking. Or maybe a Klingon. Oh damn you and your irrefutable facts, you’re encroaching on my personal feelings if you let facts and scientific principles get in the way of my “OFFICIAL” Viking/Klingon status. Hey, we even have our own language.
So that’s my first inane and pointless rant. Stop giggling like bloody five year olds every time you hear the word “sex” and use it properly, and stop misusing words like “OFFICIAL”, it’s stupid, and it’s pointless and it isn’t going to help anybody. I only hope that years down the line when Norrie is stood at an airport check-in unsure of which box to tick on the “Gender” (GRRRRRRRRRRRR) section, and the security staff are unwilling to force the other 6 Billion odd people in the world to choose between these and a little box stating “other”, he/she/they/whatever doesn’t come to seriously regret this announcement.
P.S. Interested in any of this sciency stuff? Take a look at the Batista Family, it’ll blow your mind.
Right. Go!
Norrie May-Welby. Not a name you are likely to be familiar with, but a name that had me shaking my head at the over whelming pointlessness this morning at the headline “Briton becomes world’s first OFFICIALLY genderless person”. What the hell does that mean?
Let me start by saying this is in no way a personal or homophobic attack, but it’s just the stupid implications of this “news” that have got my back up. The Australian authorities declared themselves unable to determine the actual gender of Norrie’s body. Now, Norrie was born a man, but had a sex change back in the eighties at some point. Since then, she didn’t feel that female was appropriate either, so had surgery to make herself basically gender neutral. Fair enough, whatever it takes to make you happy, right? Well yeah, it’s important to feel happy in your own body, after all, it is the only thing that truly belongs to you and no-one else, but here’s the thing. The term gender has bugger all to do with biology. No, don’t start to disagree just yet, look it up from a reputable source and you will find that I am correct. Your SEX is a biological fact. Quite simply, you either have Y-chromosomes or you do not. If you do, you are male. If you do not, you are female. (This is a simplification, it is not always xx or xy, you can have xyy, xxy, even xxxy, look up super-males, bloody interesting if you are into genetics).
The thing is, gender is the thoughts, feelings, behaviours, stereotypes and emotional attributes that a given culture associates with each of the two sexes, and these are not always the same cross culturally. The Amazonian warriors for example. Typically, they have a male gender role as we would see it, but are still female. But I digress. Where the hell does “officially” come into it? Is this an attempt to make life easier for Norrie? Maybe. But what the hell is the point? Ok, be whatever you want to be, but is this something Norrie can put on their passport? What the hell do we call him/her now? Is it to become un-pc to call her her? Or him? What about IT? Is that fair, or even in any way helpful? No, but sadly, that is what is likely to happen.
Or does this go back to something basic, stupid and really damned annoying. People don’t like to use the word sex. Think about it, are you ever asked for your SEX on a form anymore? Nope, it’s always GENDER these days, which is not right, whatever some weasely little tit with a clip board might tell you. Sexes. There are two of them. Male and Female. There are also two basic genders. Essentially, Masculine, feminine, and degrees thereof. Hey, don’t get me wrong, there should be allowances made for the fact that it is perfectly possible for there to be hermaphrodites. But do you know how many TRUE hermaphrodites there have ever been? And by true, I mean having both male AND female organs (not just a vagina and vestigial penis or vice versa, but one functioning ovary, one testicle etc). Have a guess? Put it this way, you can count them on one hand. Last I researched it at University, there had only ever been one. And no, someone with ambiguous sexual organs, under-developed genitals or growth deficiencies DOES NOT count. I cannot see any way in which this daft judgement call is going to help Norrie, rather it is likely to make things harder as people are going to have no clue how do deal with her.
Stupidly, no-one has mentioned a psychological evaluation to determine her gender, they have based this “OFFICIAL” declaration entirely upon a medical examination. Well, that’s like a bit like trying to discover someone’s religious beliefs by giving them a fucking MRI scan.
Let us take this to a ridiculous conclusion, shall we? I like beer, large edged weapons, breaking things, growing my hair long and have a penchant for comely wenches. Right, that’s it. I’m going to the court of human rights to be “OFFICIALLY” declared a Viking. Or maybe a Klingon. Oh damn you and your irrefutable facts, you’re encroaching on my personal feelings if you let facts and scientific principles get in the way of my “OFFICIAL” Viking/Klingon status. Hey, we even have our own language.
So that’s my first inane and pointless rant. Stop giggling like bloody five year olds every time you hear the word “sex” and use it properly, and stop misusing words like “OFFICIAL”, it’s stupid, and it’s pointless and it isn’t going to help anybody. I only hope that years down the line when Norrie is stood at an airport check-in unsure of which box to tick on the “Gender” (GRRRRRRRRRRRR) section, and the security staff are unwilling to force the other 6 Billion odd people in the world to choose between these and a little box stating “other”, he/she/they/whatever doesn’t come to seriously regret this announcement.
P.S. Interested in any of this sciency stuff? Take a look at the Batista Family, it’ll blow your mind.
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