Hope you all had a good Xmas. Just New Year to get through and then we can all get back to normal.

Sadly it looks like the Freeview box we got for my Mam and Dad won't work in their "sheltered accommodation" because they have a communal aerial and the signal's too weak. I've been advised to try a signal booster but the reports off others who have tried them are mixed to say the least. If all else fails we'll keep it ourselves or investigate the possibility of having their own aerial installed. Bugger !

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Did well for pressies this year - DVDs included Bowling for Columbine and Peter Kay Live in Bolton - both excellent. Eldest and Youngest got together and arranged a "hospitality" day for Dearest and myself at City's ground when we play Leicester in the FA Cup next week. Can't wait - I just hope we win it's been very depressing around the country's best stadium of late.

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Is there any point in New Year's Resolutions do you think ? We make them year after year and abandon them a few weeks (days) later. Has anyone out there successfully kept one for longer than a year ? I keep toying with the idea of......losing weight, more exercise, less drink.....but then again I do every year.

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Had dinner with some old friends last night. It does us good to touch base properly. We go back that far we can't actually remember when we first met. Must be getting really old.

Mama But We're All Crazee Now

I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I would be able to commend Peter Allis for anything. So hats off to the man for refusing his Order of the British Empiah ! Something deep inside me suspects he was hanging on for a knighthood or something though. Y'know him being the World's most right-wing golf commentator an' all. Still I just might be being uncharitable to the misogynistic 19th holer.

It is really good to see the list of the great and the good who have had the presence of mind to tell the class-ridden dickheads who advise and solicit where they can stick their "honours". Yes, I know some were refused because they were holding out for a "better one", but any port in a storm eh ?

Here's a brief selection:-

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Peter Alliss, golfer, OBE, 1992
Francis Bacon, artist, Companion of Honour (CH), 1977; CBE, 1960
JG Ballard, author, CBE, 2003
Nancy Banks-Smith, Guardian journalist, OBE, 1970
Alan Bennett, writer, knighthood, 1996; CBE, 1998
Isaiah Berlin, philosopher, life peerage, 1980
Honor Blackman, actor, CBE, 2002
David Bowie, rock star, CBE, 2000
Francis Boyd, Guardian journalist, CBE 1967; accepted knighthood 1976
Jim Broadbent, actor, OBE, 2002
John Cleese, actor and writer, CBE, 1996
John Cole, broadcaster, CBE, 1993
Hugh Cudlipp, editor, knighthood, 1966; accepted OBE, 1945; knighthood 1973; life peerage 1974
Roald Dahl, author, OBE, 1986
Bernie Ecclestone, formula one tycoon, CBE, 1996
Albert Finney, actor and director, knighthood, 2000; CBE 1980
Michael Frayn, author and playwright, knighthood, 2003; CBE, 1989
Lucian Freud, artist, CBE, 1977; accepted CH 1983 and Order of Merit (OM) 1993
Robert Graves, author, CBE, 1957; CH, 1984
Graham Greene, author, OBE, 1956; accepted CH 1966, OM, 1986
Alfred Hitchcock, director, CBE, 1962; accepted knighthood 1980
David Hockney, artist, knighthood, 1990; accepted CH 1997
Trevor Howard, actor, CBE, 1982
Aldous Huxley, writer, knighthood, 1959
Doris Lessing, author, OBE 1977; damehood 1993; accepted CH, 2000
LS Lowry, artist, OBE, 1955; CBE, 1961; knighthood, 1968; CH, 1972 and 1976
Barry McGuigan, boxer, MBE, 1986; accepted MBE 1994
George Melly, jazz singer, CBE, 2001
Helen Mirren, actor, CBE, 1996 (under Tories); accepted damehood 2003
VS Naipaul, author, CBE 1977; accepted knighthood 1990
Vanessa Redgrave, actor, damehood, 1999; accepted CBE 1967
Polly Toynbee, Guardian journalist, CBE, 2000
Evelyn Waugh, author, CBE, 1959
Rachel Whitehead, artist, MBE, 1997

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Here's the story.

So, c'mon, which of you out there would accept or refuse and what would your reasons be ?

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Eldest and I were down at the City of Manchester Stadium tonight for the crunch game between one of the most under-achieving teams in the Premiership and Leeds United.

Once again we battered a team who threw 10 men behind the ball and we just couldn't break them down. It's happened so many times this season it's starting to get boring. Opposition managers now have at least 3 match videos they can peruse at their leisure where we have failed to unlock packed defences. Tonight we were crying out for Berkovic but he wasn't even on the bench.

And, as for Anelka......World class striker my arse !

I think I need to get him out of my Fantasy Football Team as we are following the same inexorable downward spiral that Keegan's men are.

We Don't Talk Anymore

Whoops. Early reports of a constant flow of info from the lips of the Ace of Spades have now been scotched. That's a shame - I was so looking forward to finding out just how (and where) the taciturn despot had hidden those pesky WMDs for so long.

Meanwhile the "execution - right or wrong" debate is starting to heat up. Should be an interesting year 2004. Saddam's trail, Dubya's attempt to get re-elected and the possible end of Tony's New Labour tenure.

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I gave blood today. When it came to having my thumb pricked to extract a little of my offering for testing, the bloody thing couldn't pierce my skin fully. It managed to pierce my nerve ends though, so each time they tried, I received a build up of pain. Fairly insignificant pain I grant you - but pain nonetheless. Trouble is, you've got to sit there and take it. Which I did through gritted teeth and hoping against hope that the same terminally bored nurse wouldn't be attempting to insert the one in my arm..

Chains

"We got him". Cue whoops and "alrights" from the assembled American hacks. I heard it on the radio so I couldn't see whether there was any high-fiving but I wouldn't be surprised. The BBC have reported this as being "loud cheers" from Iraqis in the press-conference. They weren't cheers - they were whoops. They'll be telling us that they were traditional Iraqi whoops next. When we went to questions from the floor, the majority were from American TV reporters. I'll eat my hat if it wasn't them doing the whooping.

Later, watching on TV, I saw the response of the Iraqis in the audience to the images of the captured Saddam. They weren't whooping. They were hurling verbal abuse at what they saw. I presume this was abuse directed at Hussein but I can't be sure - not being fluent in the language(s) of the region.

The stark "we got him" and the whoops etc were crass. This isn't a video game or a Hollywood blockbuster (although it probably will be soon). A sizeable number of Iraqi citizens as well as untold military have lost their lives in this war and I suspect that the capture of the "Ace of Spades" won't stop that process. Indeed Saddam may become an even greater focal point for the fanatics than before.

The USA coalition have stated that he will be handed over to the Iraqis and brought to court. Hmmmmm dangerous George, very dangerous. I know it has got to look like the people of Iraq get their justice, but I wouldn't have thought that there is a basic judicial system in place to carry out the promise. I would imagine every judge the country has was active under him. The poor unfortunates in front of them were hardly expected to get a fair trail were they ? Just a "legal" rubber stamp for whatever punishment had already been decided by the head of state. On reflection though, that's just what George wants isn't it ? A show trail. The inevitable guilty verdict and the concomitant death sentence might prove just a little too problematic for Tony though. Should be interesting.

The good news though is that Saddam's being "co-operative" and "talkative". I can only imagine then that he's telling them where all the WMDs are and how he masterminded 9/11 at this very moment.

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Yesterday at Old Trafford Kevin Keegan demonstrated just why he has a reputation for being tactically inept. It's because he is. To play the same side and formation as last week at Everton was beyond belief. To persevere with it until 10 minutes from the end was laughable. Unfortunately he feels the need to play his expensive signings and not one of them is delivering the goods. Fowler, McManaman, Anelka, Sinclair and Bosvelt are complete and utter wastes of space. Time to shift 'em out and let some hungry youngsters take their chance.

Yesterday was the poorest derby display from a City team that I can remember. And that includes the 5-0 drubbing back in the 90s. Get a grip Kevin or bugger off.

Why Don't We Do It In The Road ?

Well, tonight I bumped into my MP (alright Dave), in t'Willow and he informed me that he reads my Blog ! OMG - nobody else I know does. When I first started doing this I decided to keep it to myself. I had a few reasons for taking this course of action: first of all I had read a "diary of a week" I had kept in the early 80s. Reading it back to myself after all these years, triggered memories of long-forgotten episodes that are - in retrospect - mundane, but, at the same time, profoundly interesting because they are newspaper-like in the way they pin your immediate thoughts to the events (national, local or personal), of the day.

Hmmmm......reading these entries back after 10 years, as a personal, historical document, they are fascinatng. But, by the same token, they are intensly boring to the casual reader. Boring to the writer as well after a few days. Unless you're a Pepys or a Benn. Viewed after 10 years, though, they are amazing. Viewed after a couple of weeks, they're crap. Unless you resist the need to read your recent Blog entries, the project eventually dies on its arse and you move on to other things.

The question is: how do I continue now that I know someone from *real life* who reads my Blog ? I mean, I'm not a "heart-on-my-sleeve" type. You're not going to find out anything "deep and meaningful" about me. Yes you'll understand when City depress me (quite possibly this weekend during the Manchester Derby). You may even grasp my political, musical and literary preferences, but, as a certain Mr Gordon Sumner once sang: "you'll still know nothin' 'bout me."

When I started this Blog, the intention was to see if I could keep it up for at least a year. A year - at the time - seemed impossible. But I stuck at it and, eventually, I started to look upon my postings as therapy. A release. A valve. It's been a hard year, the first year we, as a family, have had to address serious medical issues affecting nearest and dearest for example, but I think I just might be doing this a year from now.

Incidentally, my MP is too busy to Blog - after listening to his "typical day" scenario I reckon he is. He could *comment* though; couldn't he ?

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Today, the very wonderfull postman brought the latest bargains from Amazon. Stevie Wonder's "Innervisions", Bob Dylan's masterful "Blood on the Tracks and Simon and Garfunkel's unbelievable "Bookends" are all now on *repeat* on my HiFi.

A Hazy Shade of Winter

Today I have a Neil Simon, 1967-68 preppy, NY in the fall/winter kind of feeling. Wrap up well and don't forget your college scarf. Not that I have any experience of the place in that season or any other. It was alien territory usually viewed from the cheap seats in the local flea pit. Delis, diners, downtown, dimes and DAs, America - then - still seemed glamourous, vital and class-free. Simon and Garfunkel's "Bookends" album is currently reminding me of how I used to feel.

George and his pals however are, once again making the country look anything but. Russia, France and Germany banned from bidding for Iraqi re-building contracts because they represent a security risk to the USAs interests. Just what this threat is isn't explained. Furthermore, there will be no restriction on successful companies sub-contracting the work out to the countries in question. So French contractors = security risk. French sub-contractors = no problem.

Capitol Hill doesn't do itself any favours does it ?

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Grey, December days that should be full of snow have arrived bringing only rain. The Xmas rush continues unabated and life's little annoyances still rankle.

Being a "Thoroughly Modern Millie" I acquired some presents via t'internet. They arrived today as promised, via a "courier" in a white van.

"Sign 'ere mate" said the jolly courier chap after he had presented me with a boxed item that had clearly been hit with something - a hammer possibly, who knows ?

"Errrr....'scuse me but this box is damaged."

"Oh yeah...hmmmm. If yer quick an' yer phone 'em before twelve, they'll send yer a replacement." He proffered the pen once again indicating that I should 'sign 'ere'.

A thousand thoughts go through your mind at such moments.

"Why can't things run smoothly, why does everything have to be accompanied by extraneous hassle ?"

"Why can't he just take it back and deliver an undamaged one?"

"Why does this bloke - a courier for God's sake - seem to think that the damage has got nothing whatsoever to do with him and his couriering abilities ?"

"Oh balls to it, where do I sign........."

After drilling deep into the menu system that fronts Argos' telephone help line, I am told that a replacement will be delivered next Monday sometime between 8am and 6pm. How's that for a window ?

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So, will Ms Carr become a Hindley for the 21st century ? Well obviously a lot depends on the outcome of the current trial, but I must say that this mug shot of the accused could possibly acquire the notoriety of the one of the moors murderer that we know so well.

Sometime in 1965 at the tender age of 11 I stupidly got into a car with a man and a blonde woman after they had stopped and asked me for directions. I couldn't explain properly - or so they said - so they asked if I'd show them. Adults you see, in those days you were taught to be polite to them and, well the polite thing to do was to comply with their request.

The minute we moved off I realised to idiocy of what I was doing and I become very scared. Neither of them spoke to me as we drove along. It was only afterwards I remembered that they supposedly hadn't known where to go. Fortunately for me we came to a level-crossing and a train was coming. We stopped and I quickly opened the door and ran and ran and ran.

Was it Brady and Hindley ? Well it could've been. Two of their victims came from areas not far from where I lived. It still gives me nightmares.

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Nice to see France taking its secularism seriously. Pity we've got a leader who thinks he's got a friend who lives in the sky.

West End Girls

Last night saw the blue three quarters of the Occupied dynasty attending the annual City supporter's Xmas shenanigans. The guests included ex-captain and manager Tony Book along with Colin "The King" Bell. Ale was quaffed, stories told and jokes cracked. After an hour and a half of q and a, we adjourned for a buffet. Not being particularly hungry and needing to escape the crowded main room, we nipped into the tap room to replenish our glasses.

There was a darts match on. It was like an audition for some Mike Leigh production. Gobby women from Miles Platting - still under the impression that leggings are the ideal camouflage for wobbling thighs - screaming "'S'GAME ON IN 'ERE" every time you attempted to order. Playing darts you see requires copious amounts of zen-like concentration which can only be achieved via complete silence. Well it does when it's played by the professionals. When it's played by amateurs in the pub on a Monday night the concentration levels aren't quite up there. The women simply walked up to the oche and threw without any consideration whatsoever. Each time they did though "GAME ON" reverberated round the room.

After the match they settled down with their Bacardi Breezers and industrial quantities of fags as they cackled and guffawed at each other's every utterance. At 10:30 they all ordered taxis and shot off back to their local for "last orders". I've no doubt I'm being unfair in my assessment and I know that appearances can be deceptive but, well.....how can I put this ? Slappers. That's the word I've been looking for. Manchester's finest. Loud, brash, threatening. Lovely.

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Three day's holiday coming up now. No doubt they will be full of Christmas shopping in inner cities bursting with teeming masses all hell-bent on earnest purchasing. Occupied Towers will be tinselled to death with tat scattered about the place like forgotten toys. Tempers will be frayed and torn and general knackeredness will abound. Eeeeeh Christmas eh ? Don't you just love it ?

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So, the first toll-gates since Dick Turpin lurked on the highways of the kingdom have opened in the Midlands. I feel a bit ambivalent about this really as I am a selfish bugger when it comes to the public/private transport debate. I know that we should be discouraging rampant car use but, how many of you would prefer to travel in the comfort of your own space - with your own music playing - rather than being crammed into a bus or tube, surrounded by surly, stinking, sweaty humanity ?

I suppose the question is "will toll roads reduce congestion ?" Errr no I don't think so. I will predict that within a few years time, the road will be just as snarled up as the M6 is now. Unless, of course, they crank the price up to discourage too many users. Then again that would surely defeat the object. We'll see.

Mind you, even if it was gridlocked, I'd still be sat in my car in the middle of it all because, like I said, I'm a selfish git who won't pay through the nose to sit on a train, putting up with drunks, nutters and delightful females like the Miles Platting Molls above.

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We've bought my Mam and Dad a set top box for Xmas - finally dragging them into the 21st century. I was prevaricating between Freeview or a DAB radio. The radio would have allowed them to tune into SAGA radio - which, I figured was more like Radio 2 used to be before "the most successful makeover of a Radio station ever". R2 you see was my parents' musical home. Sinatra, Ellington, Matt Monroe, Nat King Cole etc. Big bands and jazz used to ooze from that station at all hours of the day. Now it's banished to some late night slot and the rest of the schedule bashes out everything from the mindless pap pop of Sophie Ellis Bextor to the grunge of Nirvana or the blues-rock of Led Zeppelin. Certainly not natural fare for a 75 and 70 year old. When I looked into Saga Radio further though, it turns out that they cater mainly for the 50 plus market, stopping just short of entertaining septuagenarians. Jerry Lee Lewis, Bobby Vee and Little Richard all being just a *little* too modern for Mater and Pater. What a drag it is getting old.

So, in the end it was a digibox. A Goodmans model for £70 from Argos. Last night I was sat there trawling through the channels and I thought "how many of these will they actually watch ?"

Well obviously the usual suspects BBC1 and 2, ITV, C4 and Five. Maybe BBC3 and 4 as well as ITV2. After that we start to struggle. UK History will probably get a look in, a couple of the news channels and a few of tha radio stations. I can't see either of them getting into Bid-Up TV and the rest of the shopping and holiday channels.

Still, at least they'll now be equipped to survive the great analogue switch off later in the decade.

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Dearest's Birthday tomorrow. She doesn't know it yet but I've booked a three night break in Nice next spring. Raise a glass to Dearest, Easyjet and t'internet.

Downtown

Last night saw Dearest, myself, Av and S in Manchester city centre enjoying the food and drink at the annual European Market. Much German sausage, cabbage and potato was consumed. Washed down with Gluhwein and strong German Lager. The smell of Dutch cheeses, Spanish hams and paella, English roast pork, French crepes, garlic and hot, roasted chestnuts was everywhere.

We started the evening in St Ann's Square where the theme was definately German. For me, St Ann's is the finest square in Manchester. The eighteenth century St Ann's church is a delight - even for dedicated atheists such as I. Refreshed with bratwurst, gluhwein and sweet buscuits we sauntered round the stalls selling traditional German tat and jewellry before heading towards Albert Square.

On the way past St Ann's church we stumbled across a very empty English - supposedly Dickensian - market selling Boddington's bitter and not much else. Ignoring it we carried on to the Town Hall. The huge inflatable Santa once again has pride of place on top of the Town Hall and he looks down over the revellers who throng the market in Albert Sqaure.

We had a great time for a good 3 hours. Dearest and Av stocked up on shallots, garlic Spanish sausage and fairies while S and I wandered round the various stalls dedicated to drink. Over the few years that the markets have been going, more stalls and huts have been attracted and people flock to it after work or shopping. I'd be tempted to give full marks to the council except for one glaring ommission. Toilets. Yup, you couldn't make it up. All that liquid being consumed and a not a toilet to be had. Oh there is one but it shuts in the evening. Consequently the local pubs - especially the Square Albert and the God-awful Slug and Lettuce bear the brunt.

Av and Dearest return from the Slug and Lettuce Ladies

Later we taxied back to ours and listened to Rory Gallagher, Free, Neil Young and John Mayall.

Starless and Bible-Black

Quiet and still. Quiet and still. That’s how I’ve felt the past few days. Not my natural state but sometimes a man needs to “hang loose” and ruminate. I think its probably Advent weaving its malevolent tendrils round every aspect of my waking (and sleeping) existence.

And what a lot of sleep there has been. Another mammoth 12 hour-er last night. 7:00pm to 7:00am with only a couple of brief surfacings that I can remember. I’m sure I should be ill. I’m not though. I just feel unbelievably detached. Don’t know why – I mean I’ve not (knowingly) taken any mind-altering substances for more decades than I care to remember. Stimulus – that’s what’s required. Stimulus.

I don’t suffer from SAD like Peter or Lyle, in fact there is a lot about Winter that I enjoy, but never-ending overcast days in mid-December, combined with unseasonably high temperatures, conspire to bring me down. Mix in the nightmare of Christmas and we have a recipe for absolute misery.

I took Dearest shopping on Saturday. Rancid Carols were constantly blaring out from inadequate speakers and shredding every nerve-end. Parents screaming at “Kylie” and “Kyle” and “Britney” and “Jordan”. People everywhere. After an hour I could have cheerfully killed myself.

Thankfully I resisted the temptation.

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Now City are getting stuffed by Spurs of all teams ! There's something rotten in the state of Denmark my dears - and I think it wears the mark of Anelka. We haven't won for 5 games. We haven't scored for around 8 hours of play now. Something's not right. We've not had a run like this since the days of division 2.

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So, Tony wants a book for Christmas. Personally I think I'd give him a copy of "Fame is the Spur" by that old Manchester Guardian journalist Howard Spring. It tells the tale of one Hamer Shawcross. Born in the slums of Ancoats, his left-wing views are slowly crushed as he rises the ladder of political success. Along the way all his principles are compromised as he leaves the people he grew up with far behind.

Mind you, he'd probably just think: "ripping good yarn", and allow the connection to pass him by completely.

Any Ideas ?

Every Mother's Son

Why are we wasting OUR money incarcerating this nutter ? How does it benefit us ? The man has a point for crying out loud - we do have antiquated ideas about nudity. Most of them gleaned from scriptures claiming to be the word of God.

I've no doubt that sheriff Pillock Pollock is riddled with the Calvinist work ethic and steeped in Prestbyterianism.

I'm sure there are more pressing problems of criminality that need Sheriff Pollock's prediliction for the slammer rather than a harmless eccentric like Mr Gough.

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I would have either died, or lied through my hind teeth rather than accept the requirements of this contract to change from a City to United supporter before I'd accept a stem-cell transplant off this "full of fun" fucker.

The BBC in their wisdom, have posted this story in their "fun and games" section. They must be joking.

Unlike all these latter day jumpers on the bandwagon of football supporter-ship - such as Michael something-of-the-night Howard or Tony Newcastle-Rah-Rah-Rah Blair, the club you support is branded on your very DNA. You can't change. You're stuck with it "'till I die". If it wasn't like this NOBODY would be supporting City or Rochdale or Oldham Athletic or Bury or York City or Doncaster Rovers......the list goes on and on and on and on and.......

You don't arse about with people's football allegiances.

Anyway, why do Manchester United need more fans ? They've already got half the world and most of them have bought the entire contents of the Megastore, more "signed" photographs of Becks than you could shake a stick at and enjoy nothing more than an "relaxing game of MAN U beating the opposition" with a prawn sandwich or two. Terribly exciting.

In fact I'd have made a point of dying just to screw the fucker up even more than he already obviously is.

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Off out with Dearest and a couple of friends of ours this evening to a rather nice Italian about quarter of a mile way in Daisy Nook country park. The last time we went was the night before Dearest's Op. Full circle ? Not quite, but we're getting there.

With God on our Side 2 - This Time It's serious

Well. There you go then. You want proof God doesn't exist ? I'll give you proof.

If he did exist he would have ensured the safe passage of Manchester City into the next round of the EUFA Cup.

Just when you need a metaphysical prop..........

With God on our Side

I feel the need to rant and rave about what I believe to be the biggest threat to civilsation at the dawn of the 21st century. A threat that seems, inexplicably to me, to be growing stronger every day. Organised, polarised religion. Christian and Muslim.

When I was young and fresh-faced I, like many others of my generation, could look forward to a future free of the prejudices and superstitions of the past. Anyone of my age should remember the hope with which we looked to the coming years. The 60s was the decade when new ideas were poised to take over the world. Blind faith in Politicians, Royalty and the Church would no longer suffice. Question everything. Challenge everything. Everything justifies itself or consigns itself to history. A Brave New World beckons.

The nonsense that is religion was obviously on its way out anyway. Attendances at places of worship were (in Europe at least) falling dramatically. Modern society was secular. Sure we still had the ridiculous amalgamation of Church and State in places like England, but surely it was only a matter of time......

Now, it seems to me, rationality is on the back foot. Everywhere I look I see the pious (nearly always men) pontificating and demanding a return to the middle ages. I see Imams on one side and born again zealots on the other and I despair.

We have the ridiculous spectacle of two the most powerful men in the rational, Western world claiming belief in a supernatural being who sees everything and - it appears to me at least - is *hell* bent on stifling the natural exuberance of the human spirit wherever it expresses itself. Well according to his "representatives" on Earth anyway.

In the Third World, the literal interpretation of man-made scriptures has resulted in a shift back in time with the adoption of Sharia law, and the attempts (as yet thwarted - as far as we know), of the righteous to stone to death adulterers and the like.

In the West The Vatican's attempts to stop the use of condoms to prevent the spread of AIDS is another example of the stupidity of faith. Once again men who have declared themselves *chaste* dictate to the rest of the world: they are correct and everyone else won't go to heaven if they disobey. Because of this mumbo jumbo, a global pandemic that has, so far, claimed the lives of 20 million - all of them sinners....apparently is allowed to continue unfettered.

Yesterday a Muslim woman in France was rightly dismissed from a jury because she was wearing a hijab. I would have done the same to a priest. Accept the decision: you are advertising your prejudice. Today we have the spectacle of an anchorwoman on al-jazeera - on the face of it an educated woman - deciding that she needs to cover up her head in order to "defeat the devil"!!

I'm sorry, sticking a scarf on your head to ostentatiously display your belief marks you out as pretty stupid in my book. Now if you want to wear one fine. But don't ask rational human beings to treat you the same as they would everybody else. You're not the same - end of. Likewise with ostentatious, holier-than-thou Christians. I will not treat you normally, I think there is something missing in your emotional and intellectual make up, so don't expect me to. Incidentally don't come knocking on my door to try and change my mind either.

On the other side of the great divide, we have Christians supposedly waiting for the second coming. I'll tell you this, given their hope and faith and belief, everytime someone proclaims himself the Son of God, he tends to get put away, or - as in the case of David Suresh: killed. I don't hear any of the "believers" complaining. I mean c'mon ! He might be for real mightn't he ? Just imagine how foolish you would feel if you incarcerated or killed the one man you've been praying for all these years. Hmmmm mind you.....it does sound familiar.

Everywhere I look in these supposedly enlightened times I see a growing number of zealots on both sides demanding religious ideals be incorporated into everyday life. I see politicians, musicians, professors and sportsmen proclaiming their "faith". Meanwhile I see the poor, the needy, the sick and the fanatic all being promised their reward in heaven just like they always were.

Same as it ever was. Same as it ever was.

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One of those days at work when all your suspicions about the type of person who wants to *get on* are amplified. Two guys have recently been appointed way up the food chain from the likes of me. Today they decided to come and have a look at our little outpost of the empire. Christ knows why. Morale booster perhaps ? Yeah maybe for the opposition ;-)

So they eventually turn up. They got lost on the M60 ? Cutting edge ? Yeah whatever you say.

They immediately closet themselves in the boss's office and don't move for an hour. After they've finished, do they come out and mingle with the workers. Pressing flesh and all that ? Do they fuck. But hey ! Don't forget they're high-flyers. Going places. Well this week they are anyway. No doubt I'll meet at least one on his way back down. I have on many occasions before.

I'm Only Sleeping

Yesterday I arrived home from my place of daily toil, ate my evening meal, hoovered and washed the pots. I decided to lie on the bed and read the latest Rebus I have acquired. This would be 6:30.

Apart from a brief minute or so when I rose to disrobe - as it were, my eyes didn't open again until 7:30 this morning.

I should've been full of life, brimming with barely restrained energy. As it was I felt like shit. Alert but shit-like. Tonight Dearest had to drag me from my slumber at 8:00pm.

Either I'm working too hard or life's simply boring the pants off me.

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Okay, breathe easy "justice-fans". Australia has "done a deal with the USA regarding two of its citizens currently held in Guantanamo Bay. They will not face the death penalty but could still face a military tribunal. Sources also reckon that this agreement could form a blueprint for the Britons incarcerated there.

So Tony and the intensely unlikable Australian PM (John Howard) get to save face, and their citizens at least have a glimmer of hope that they may see their loved ones again.

Strange ain't it ? The Brit and Aussie contingent just might be guilty as sin but they're from countries allied to Dubya so they won't fry.

Hard to see the same leniency afforded to detainees from less than friendly nations - even though the poor sods could be as pure as the driven snow. Freedom. Justice. Fairness. God Bless America.

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Came in from the pub the other night to discover Bert Jansch in concert on BBC4 TV . 60 he is. Another cool young dude (as was) nearing pension age. He was joined by Johnny Marr and Bernard Butler - both excellent musicians ex of The Smiths and Suede respectively.

I used to be in awe at his guitar playing. He was one of those clever bastards who could fuse folk, jazz, blues, madrigals and even make a contrapuntal counterpoint, delicately picked, sound like a piece 'o' piss. Nowadays it does seem a little less complex, though I've no doubt that's due to my years of studying the instrument. On top of that his voice, which was never his strong point, sounds rough as buggery.

He was often referred to by the likes of Hendrix, Jimmy Page and Neil Young as an influence.

Straight after Mr Jansch we were treated to the fore-mentioned Mr Young in a BBC concert from 1971. Heart of Gold, Old Man and A Man Needs a Maid were some of the gems on offer.

It's worth the price of a digibox alone that BBC 4.

Woke Up This Morning......

"I ask T-Model if I can hear him play. 'Let's go,' he says and we get into his big blue 1979 Lincoln Continental and drive across the railroad tracks to a corner house in a part of Water Valley I have never seen before. An old man with one eye and no teeth is in a wheelchair on a rotting front porch, trying to attach a prosthetic leg to his stump. 'Hey Pete!' yells T-Model. 'Y'all got any elec-quickery up in there? We fixin' to play a little music.'

'Hey bluesman, you come on. We got electric,' says Pete and then his leg falls off with a clatter. 'I ain't never gonna get used to this damn fool leg.' "

I read this last Sunday in t'Observer Music Monthly. It's like something from a "what you need to play the blues" primer isn't it ? "elec-quickery", "one-eye", "no teeth", "rotting front porches".

Bear in mind that this isn't the 1920s or 30s. No we're talking about the 21st century in the richest country in the world. Read the full article - no wonder they got the blues.

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Right, off to the Supermarket to get my share of BOGOFs and other offers.

I Could Die in your Arms Tonight

Here's a snippet from *those in the know* off the BBC website.:-

"What are the implications for the UK now it seems to be in the firing line?

Britain is already deeply committed, materially and politically, to the American approach to the "war on terror". The Istanbul attacks are likely to increase this. The signs on the US president's state visit to Britain are that the US-UK special relationship is stronger than ever.

The UK was always a likely target for terrorist attacks because of its closeness to the US. Security in Britain is already massively heightened. Terrorism specialists say that these security precautions are excellent. It is though part of the nature of terrorism that security is never 100%."

(My emphasis)

This fine country of ours has spent the past decade "outsourcing" and sub-contracting every aspect of business that wasn't considered as *core*.

This, obviously, included Security. As an active Trade Unionist, I was involved in a bitter and hard fought dispute with the company I work for, to stop the "outsourcing" of the security function. After 3 or 4 years long struggle: we lost.

Nowadays, I bet there's not a sizable employer in the country who still directly employs their own security, fire or health staff. Practically every man jack of 'em will have shipped these functions out to some *facilities* company. All of them provided by a profit-motivated organisation whose main motivation is....well.....errr.....profit.

So they employ CHEAP labour. Labour that couldn't give a shit. Seriously. Labour that "goes through the motions". Labour that is paid barely above the Minimum Wage and, generally is contracted for 6 months at a time, thus saving the employers a fortune in sickness pay, holiday pay and, when the time comes, redundancy pay.

I work for a major company that is involved in the Military sector - a company that, literally, employs many 1,000s of people all over the world. A company that *outsourced* its Security about 10 years ago. I've lost count of the number of different firms who have since taken over the role. I've certainly lost count of the number of different personnel who have inhabited the entrances and exits to the factory.

I've also, most definitely, lost count of how many times I've been able to simply walk in the place WITHOUT showing any ID; or the number of times I've been stopped in my car for a cursory glance in my boot [trunk] - (I could have had WMDs on my back seat - they were "only instructed to check boots"). Unless, of course, there was an Audit of the Security *function*, or a visit by a *VIP*. On those occasions the security could only be described as *excellent*. If any subversives decided to bomb the place when there were no VIPs or audits, us "common folk" would've been well and truly bolloxed. Still. What do we know eh ?

I know this, Industry in the UK - whether public or private - couldn't give a shit if their outsourced, sub-contracted security staff were blown to Kingdom Come. Well.......they "weren't directly employed" were they ? So "where's our responsibility" ? "Surely it's up to the firm that directly employed them to compensate the remaining relatives" ? "So, you see, legally it's not our problem. Although I am sure we can furnish some desultory sum to the "appeal fund" that Gwendoline in Accounts has set up".

So: security in Britain ? "Massively heightened" ? MY ARSE !

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Dearest and I had a night in tonight with a bottle or two of "Mighty Murray Red". We watched a DVD of the Coen Brother's excellent "O Brother Where Art Thou".

A "so-called" "Good Time Movie" that dwelt upon the hardships of America's darkest days - the Depression.

We enjoyed it - but what *really* made it was the Old Timey music, the Blues and the Bluegrass and the rest.

I AM a man of constant sorrow.

Get Up Stand Up

Labour Beats BNP in Oldham By-Election

By PA News Reporter

Labour has beaten a challenge from the British National Party in a local government by-election in Oldham.

The far-right party has targeted the Greater Manchester town following racial tensions in the summer of 2001, but has failed to win a seat on the council.

Last night, Labour's Jim Mahon secured the seat of Failsworthh East by a large margin over the BNP candidate.

A Labour spokesman said: "This is a fantastic result for Labour. The people of Failsworth East have rejected the racist message of the BNP and the opportunistic policies of the Liberal Democrats.

"This will see Labour continuing the good work they started when they took control of the council in May this year."

On a 35% turnout, Labour took 2,045 votes, against the BNPs 539, the Conservatives 296 and the Liberal Democrats 128.

My faith in the folk of my home town has been restored. You can (apart from the 539) be proud of what you did today.

The only question I need to ask is this: why was this LOCAL by-election reported first on a website in Scotland ????

Will the Real Slim Shady Please Stand Up

It wasn't that long ago - was it, when superstar white rapper Eminem was being accused of writing and singing shouting homophobic lyrics ? The natural assumption was that the gangsta-wannabe was indeed homophobic - along with the vast majority of the rest of rap-land. The accusations grew. Time passed. No denials from the hard man's "people" or from M & M .....eerrrr....Eminem himself.

Gay groups started picketing his performances. Prominent homosexuals started mouthing-off and, eventually, the whole thing gained a momentum that finally necessitated a response from the self-styled King of white-boy rap.

The response took the form of - frankly - mealy-mouthed references to irony, post-modernism and the fact that Enema Eminem was merely "acting a part". The whole thing culminated in a controversial duet with the fading *pop* star Sir Elton John.

Very little was said about the misogynistic nature of his lyrics at the time, until some Hip Hop magazine was handed a copy of something he recorded back in 1988. Immediately the "news management" machine steps in. Denials are made. "Youth and inexperience" are paraded as reasons (and excuses) for this lapse. We learn that *Em* had just been dumped by his black girlfriend and that's why he decided to sit down and write a song that, in the words of the BBC is "about his unhappy experience with a black girlfriend and warns about dating black women." Hmmmmmmm ?

What's the difference here ? Why does one accusation elicit a swift response whilst the other is allowed to languish ? Well the female in question is black and we can't have the World's foremost rapper accused of racism can we ? How would that look amongst his Gangsta mates ? Homophobia ? Hey that's fine. Misogyny ? That sells in rap-land. Looks good. Macho Motherfucka that's what you are Marshall. Macho Motherfucka.

Racism ?? Hell no ! That won't sell shit in this market. Get the media manipulation boys in quick.........no.........wait.........oh thank fuck for that ! Jacko's just knocked us off the front page.

---

Well the "breaking news" at the moment is the fact that George and his pals have "hinted" that the British Guantanamo Bay detainees *may* be released for British trial. That's OK then. Just let the rest rot. At least Tony's off the hook.

Or is he ? What the Hell is our legal system going to charge them with ? Looking foreign and being in the wrong place at the wrong time ? Not believing in the same friend-who-lives-in-the-sky as George ? Being called Ali, Osama, Mohammed or Saddam ? To be honest, none of those charges would surprise me. I reckon they'll have a better chance of sticking than trumped up charges of terrorism anyday. Time will tell.

As if Capitalism wasn't suffering enough from the onslaught of fundamentalist Islamic movements, some of those "Good Ol' Boys" who live or die by their ability to trade currency on Wall Street have, allegedly, been following in the footsteps of their mates in Enron, J P Morgan, Merrill Lynch and the rest.

I'm not a fan of Jacko but.....well........he is going to keep this off the front pages for a few weeks at least isn't he ? Especially the News International rags. Makes you think don't it ?

Hands Across the Water

The talk of the blogosphere (as well as everywhere else today) is Dubya's impending touchdown. It really is amazing how one man can engender so much *pro* and *anti* in the good people of these Sceptered Isles.

What is it about him ? Well unfortunately I can't pontificate on what it is that some folk like so much about him - although I guess religious fervour, along with his "deeply held beliefs" about abortion and the death penalty could, perhaps, excite the like-minded. Who am I to say ?

For I am an anti ! Through and through. Even if I admired his "stand against terror" and the rest of his "how-will-this-play-on-Fox" policies, I couldn't bear to watch his smug, monkey-furrowed smirk when he thinks he's uttered something of major import. This is something he is doing with increasing regularity. He does it when he talks about God letting him know what to do about the problems of the World. He does it when he's attempting to explain away his belief in free trade whilst imposing tariffs on steel imports. He does while he waxes lyrical on the subject of democracy - after rigging an election (with the help of his brother) to enter the White House.

That same monkey-smirk plays about his lips as he explains that the inhabitants of Guantanamo Bay are "bad people" and, therefore, not entitled to due process. Again when he talks of countries abiding by International law while ignoring it when it comes Israel - and, for that matter - Iraq. It's the grin of the buffoon. The bar room philosopher: the ill-educated. It's a shocking thing to realise as it belongs to the most powerful man on the planet.

One of the 24hour news channels re-ran an interview Dubya did with that hamster of broadcast news: Trevor MacDonald. Even the mildest (by British standards) of questioning resulted in George accusing him of being "one of them clever reporters who like to put words in my mouth".

Well. Someone's got to do it George. Someone's got to do it.

---

I've been wondering how I should react if the BNP come knocking on my door during the current hustings here in my home town.

I toyed with the idea of opening a discussion on their macro-economic policies vis-a-vis the local manufacturing and service industries. Then I considered touching on the apparent paradox of their candidate - a "committed Christian" - only being "committed" to folk of a certain hue - or indeed sexuality. Everytime one of their leaflets dropped through my door I was coming up with cutting question after cutting question.

But, deep down inside you just *know* that they won't turn up.

So when they do it comes as a complete shock.

BNP: "Mr Occupied Country ? I'm campaigning on behalf of a Right-Wing Fascist bastard who spouts nothing but the Politics of jealousy and hatred would........."

Occupied Country: (Surprised) "Not a cat in hell's chance !!". (loud slamming of door).

Bet they wouldn't have knocked if it said "Patel" on the electoral register.

---

Dearest is "a lady who lunches". Now she has managed the walk to the pub and back she has acquired a retinue of lunchees who are all quite happy to eat, then drink the afternoon away. A pleasant nap ensues before I - man the hunter - returns from the jungle we call the IT sector.

What a difference a week or two makes.

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This evening's Blog was brought to you by:-

Beth Orton - She Cries Your Name
Creedence Clearwater Revival - Proud Mary
Billie Holiday - Stormy Weather
George Winston - The Peanuts Theme
Tomita - Arabesque No 1
Radiohead - Subterranean Homesick Alien
The Eagles - James Dean
Beck - Sissyneck
Father Ted - My Lovely Horse
The Bonzo Dog Band - Rawlinson End
The Beatles - Run for your Life
Eric Clapton - Give Me Strength
Frank Zappa - Blessed Relief
Dan Ar Bras - The Island
Frank Zappa - Village of the Sun
Mary Chapin Carpenter - The End of my Pirate Days
Wynton Marsalis - Carnival of Venic
Keb Mo - Muddy Water
Elton John - Love Song
The Beatles - Long, Long, Long
John Mayall - Room to Move
The Beatles - Martha My Dear
Human League - The Things that Deams Are Made Of
Joni Mitchell - Help Me
Segovia - Tarrega Etude in A Major
Norah Jones - The Nearness of You

A Day in the Life

Boring weekend really. The usual Friday night in, Saturday night out and Sunday afternoon out – culminating in Sunday evening dozing in front of the fire.

Highlight of the weekend was Dearest accusing a barmaid of “dangling her ancient breasts” at me. Actually she didn’t accuse her to her face – she made the accusation to the landlord. I must say the rest of us were highly amused. I think Dearest needs to restrict her alcohol intake a little, especially on Saturday nights. She later informed the landlord that his shoes were crap. I must admit they are crap shoes (a sort of patent leather grey/black combination), but you just don’t go round commenting on peoples’ shoes do you ? Needless to say Sunday morning dawned a little late for Dearest and when it arrived it was filled with a pounding head.

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Apart from that not a lot has been happening round Occupied Towers. The Scots bagged a good win against the arrogant Dutch at Hampden and Wales surprised everyone by holding the Russians to a goalless draw.

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Saturday afternoon saw a flurry of political activity in the neighbourhood. First up came the Tories. This was their first time out during the campaign. I think they know they’re on a loser and have decided on a token presence. Mind you – given the age and apparent infirmity of the activists delivering leaflets – I’m surprised they’ve managed even that.

Labour would appear to be the favourites. An efficient enough campaign team who have managed quite a few leaflet drops over the past few weeks, behind a young candidate who runs a local website and has been quite active in the community over the years.

The LibDems have blotted their copybook locally. First of all they took control of the council a few years back and immediately put a block a regeneration project designed to improve the town centre. On top of that the last LibDem councillor cancelled all his surgeries and disappeared for two years or so. They have parachuted someone from elsewhere in the borough. An ex councillor who was kicked out of another ward.

At around 2:00pm on Saturday afternoon a 10 or 11 year old came up my path and posted a copy of the BNPs newspaper through my door. What chance has he got of growing up without prejudice ? None – I would have thought.

So it should be interesting come Thursday. We really need a decent turnout to make sure the BNP can’t boast a significant share of the vote. Hopefully (although I can’t see it happening) they will come last and that will be the end of their activities in the area.

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I can feel the unmistakable symptoms of a cold creeping up on me. Tickly cough, nostrils filling up and having to work with my coat on “’cos it’s nippy” all point to hot toddys and early nights with a good book. The question is: which “good book” shall it be ? I have those I acquired from my charity shop visits last week, plus a few more Rebus novels that the higher-than-a-ten mob passed on to me yesterday. Decisions decisions……….

The Continuing Story of Buffalo Bill

Hmmmmm Peter over at Naked Blog is of the opinion that The Beatles never did anything after Sgt Pepper

Now maybe he was being a bit "Birchillian": I don't know, but really - nothing after Pepper ? An album that I personally rank among their worst. An album that contains a lot of filler dressed in the psychedelia of the day to make it sound cutting edge. The really innovative Beatles' albums were Rubber Soul and Revolver. Pepper, in retrospect, has suffered.

But what of the post-Pepper era ? I am the Walrus, Lady Madonna, Hey Jude, Get Back and Let it Be for starters. Any one of them would knock Lovely Rita, Good Morning, Good Morning or Fixin' a Hole into a cocked hat. The cool-as-fuck White Album, and the exquisite Abbey Road also followed Billy Shears and friends.

Let it Be (the album) was a disappointment I'll grant you, but any disappointment that contains the title track and Across the Universe ain 't that much of a disappointment really.

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Dearest finally went out on a shopping trip today. I drove her up to Oldham so she could amble around the shopping mall and re-acquaint herself with the nightmare that is the general public and Xmas in close proximity. Tat, of the highest order, was draped hither and thither. Sparkling this and glowing that. The entire place was dressed up like Bet Lynch on the pull.

An hour later and we're both knackered. Dearest's purchases consist of one pack of face wipes. I had perused the charity shops and snapped up novels by Sebastian Faulks, Ben Elton, Val McDiarmid and Tony Parsons. All in pristine condition and all for less than £6:50. I can only assume the theatre directors, TV executives and stars of Coronation St who inhabit the renovated weaver's cottages of Saddleworth donate their paperbacks to charitable causes.

I reckon Roy Cropper donates the most - he's a deep one that Roy Copper. Oh yes.

In France They Kiss on Main Street - L'Amour Mama, Not Cheap Display

Before we go any further I must direct you to this. Be patient, it does take some time to load, but IMHO this is one of the things the Internet does best. Pure and simple, pointless yet brilliant, bad but good and somehow - without being able to pinpoint exactly why - subversive.

In the same vein, have a look at the badgers.

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I've had a bout of can't-be-arsedness today. The Aerospace industry's slowest intellects have bored me rigid. I needed mental flights of fancy, someone on the same wavelength to spark off. But all I got was the pure logic of the literal mind.

This lethargic disappointment was carried home and, after a rather nice chili, (the first that Dearest has concocted since her mutilation) I sat, transfixed, like a rabbit in a spotlight, staring at the TV in the corner.

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There was a "documentary" on C4 about a couple from Blackburn who sold up and shipped out to the Dordogne, where they had acquired a 64 acre hazel nut farm; part of which they were going to develop into a camp site to supplement the £15,000 pa they hoped to earn from selling their nuts to the local nut co-operative.

Nowt wrong wi' that I can hear you cry (albeit in slightly different accents). Yes I agree. These two were professionals who had made the decision to "downsize" in order to give their kids and themselves a happier lifestyle. Paul was an IT consultant, who, more or less, lived most of his life in motels as he traveled round the country, talking techno-bollox-speak to gullible corporations with too much IT budget. Angela was a full time college lecturer. There was going to be a major upheaval in all their lives. I mean, hazel nut farming ? How many hazel nut farmers do you know ? They weren't going to get much advice on hazel nut husbandry round here were they ? (Cue comments from 1,000s of hazel nut farmers.)

So you would think that they would prepare themselves for every eventuality. Get themselves ready for anything that Gaul could throw at them ? Well, so did I.

Unfortunately, the high-flying IT consultant who spent his evenings bored out of his skull in hotel bedrooms all over the UK, hadn't bothered to attempt to acquire even the most basic understanding of the French language. Fortunately his wife - although arriving with the same 'O' level French as I - threw herself into mastering the local patois.

Verbal communication has never, in my opinion, been a pre-requisite of the IT consultant. Even in its written form it often makes as much sense as he hieroglyphics of ancient Egypt. Sadly most of us do not possess a Rosetta Stone to decipher the mass of TLAs (Three Letter Acronyms) that litter the convoluted text of these throwbacks to an earlier age. An age of "power dressing", "working breakfasts", "voting for Maggie ? of course I am" and "Up Yours Delors".

But, FFS, come on Paul. When in Rome and all that !

Merde !

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We're having a local by-election in the ward I live in. Next Thursday it is. We have the usual *Big Three* but, strangely - for a by-election - no independents. What we do have however, is a BNP candidate. A "man of the people". Who - according to his campaign literature was "born and bread" in the area. His leaflets rage about Muslim this and Islam that; Asians here and Asians there. After you've read one you would think that every street corner had a Mosque, Asylum-Seekers "pay-out" centre where they collect their BMWs and the keys to their opulent housing and the obligatry "East-European" Mafia member.

Now I've seen all this before. At one time, as an active member of the Labour Party I've confronted it face-to-face. But I'll tell you this:-

I've NEVER come across an active BNP, NF or any other Far-Right party member who was a verger at a local Church ! Who constantly harps on about his "Christian-ness".

Now - as regular readers are aware - I can't take anyone who has a "friend who live in the sky" seriously; be they Christian, Muslim, Jedi or any other. But I have to say that this sounds like a "Crusade".

Unless, of course, whichever "Church" he claims to be a verger of, disowns, de-frocks (oooh eeerrrr missus) and distances itself from the ill-educated tosser.

Hopefully, before next week's election, we will find out . Watch this space !

Why Does it Always Rain on Me

Well if I thought City's display on Thursday was crap, I don't know how I can describe the bottle-less show yesterday at the City of Manchester Stadium.

One thing's for sure, we'll never become a 'top 4' club if we can't start achieving some consistency and string a significant run of victories together. We were second to every ball, we lacked fight, we lacked invention. We were bloody awful.

I guess the only consolation I can cling to is that it could be worse: I could be a Leeds fan.

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Somehow I can't believe that 1 out of every 3 CDs sold is a pirate copy. But that fact was quoted when trying to justify the raison d'être behind the new copyright laws. If it is the case then I guess I can understand the need for some change, but what worries me is the wholesale effect the changes will have. It's ok the lawmakers saying that they are not after the ordinary music-lover who makes up compilation CDs - or copies CDs to play in the car, but the fact remains that the ordinary user is going to be criminalised every time they do such a thing.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: start investing in some decent A & R, get out there, see what's available that's genuinely talented and innovative and take a flaming risk! That way you may entice the bored-shitless-with-boy-bands-pop-idol-and-fame-academy-wannabees consumer back into your stores and shelling out for your product.

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Well the weekend has resembled the weekends of yore with parties, pubs and pleasure back at the forefront.

Friday night Dearest stayed at home while myself, Eldest, Youngest and his Darlin' plus assorted others went round to an old work colleague's house for a surprise birthday party. Much drink and reminiscence. Everyone was amazed at my *enemy of lawlessness* escapade on Thursday night. The thing they had the most trouble with though was the fact that I caught the miscreant in the first place. I must admit, the longer I have had to consider this the more it amazes me too. All I can say is: I was like the wind. From a standing start to - oooh at least 50mph in 6 seconds - meant that the poor little bugger didn't stand a chance.

Others have commented that it was only because City had been poor and I was, consequently, in a foul mood that I chased him in the first place.

Personally I will admit to an intense dislike of pricks who find loud bangs entertaining. This is the natural outcome of having to listen to the damn things for the last 2 months or so.

Incidentally I spotted the defiler of the Queen's Mail sauntering down a street not far from the scene of crime two days later. Obviously his parents were determined to punish him for his deeds. They couldn't even be bothered to ground him for a few days.

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So, Mr Howard thinks he's onto a winner with his still new-born shadow cabinet. He's especially excited about his *council of elders* who will - we are told - advise the leadership and also, from time to time, speak from the Party's front bench.

So we have a league of gentlemen who will be *advising* the Bela Lugosi Jnr of the Conservative Party. Yer 'avin' a larf aincha ? What advice are you going to give regarding the Euro ? "Ditch it for Christ's sake" demand Ian and William. "Embrace it and all that it represents", cries Ken - cigar aglow and hush puppies scuffed to dishevillment's doorstep. "Errrrrrrrmmmmm.....well....I'm not sure", proffers John helpfully.

Disaster waiting to happen. The first major policy decision that needs to be taken where the council disagree with MH, and the press will be all over it. Politics is an often childish, backstabbing, grudge-bearing profession. More and more it attracts "career-politicians" who wouldn't recognise honest employment if it cavorted naked in front of them wearing a dayglo sign proclaiming "honest employment". They'll be there, in the wings, observing, calculating, getting ready to back the horse they think is going to romp it. MH ain't the one. MH is the stop gap. I know that, you know that, everyone knows that.

I'm sorry, my blue-rinsed friends but you've just had a fabulous opportunity to regroup, decide on where you want to be in 10 year's time and appoint (and, indeed, anoint) the perfect leader to get you there but...........

Well, you thought you needed to *show a united front*, thinking that the electorate would be hooked. So you rushed it and got what you laughingly think of as a *unity* candidate. You'll not get away with that. The Labour Party didn't in the 80s and neither will you.

You see you have a fundamental problem and the funny thing is; each and every one of you know what it is.

Europe.

Michael knows, Ken knows, Iain knows, William knows and even John knows. So does the rest of the voting public. You need your Civil War. Just go and do it and, when you return - pro or anti - you might, just might, start providing us with a much-needed, viable opposition again.

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This, quite frankly, is irresponsible. I couldn't give a toss whether you think gorillas are sweet, loving, darlings or not. Two publicity-hungry wastes of time risking the wellbeing of their 2 month old daughter. This from a family who advocate close contact between keepers and animals. A policy that would appear to have cost 5 keepers their lives at Aspinall's 2 zoo-parks over the past decade or two. His father was the racist, millionaire eccentric John Aspinall. A man who believed that the deaths of his keepers "just had to be accepted".

I've no doubt that gorillas are wonderful, family-orientated animals but, FFS, don't endanger your new-born to prove it.

What is and What Should Never Be

Well last night turned out a little differently than expected. After the abjectly poor display from Manchester City, Dearest and myself ambled slowly to t'Willow to meet up with the quiz team and stragglers from the match.

"We can post my sick note on the way" said Dearest. There's a post box on the way to the pub.

So, off we go. Sick Note posted we carry on round the bend to the pub. As we are waiting for the Pelican crossing I suddenly remember that I've not brought any money.

Dearest carries on into the pub and I head back home.

As I round the bend back to where the post-box is I spot three kids lighting a firework and *posting it*. I shouted something derogatory as I legged it towards them. One of them - luckily the smallest - chose the wrong direction and I was able to grab him. His "mates" legged it.

So I had him but, what the hell was I going to do with him ? Resisting the strong urge to beat seven colours of shit out of him I decided that I was going to get the police. But How could I get the police while keeping hold of the squirming little bastard ?

So, a couple of minutes later I've bundled him into the pub, sat him down, got a few of the quiz team to guard him and I phoned the police. I ended up, of course being put through to some central call-centre. They took my details and, in that vaguely "I-know-I'm-telling-a-lie-but-just-go-along-with-it-for-both-our-sakes" way that they have, assured that someone would "be there soon".

Now I've some experience of the police promising me they would "be there soon". Most noticeably the last time we were burgled and I waited from 10:30pm to 6:00am for a PC to arrive. So let's just say I wasn't holding my breath. But what started to worry me then was - if I kept the kid in the pub for a length of time - would I be guilty of kidnap ? Mr Bland-But-Reassuring on the other end of the line told me "not to worry".

But you do don't you ? I begin to harbour thoughts of the tables turning and me ending up in the dock trying to defend myself against some wiley prosecutor; interested only in furthering his/her career rather than truth and justice.

What seemed like an age later the phone rang it was the police they were outside. I went out and explained what had happened. They came in the pub and took the kid away. I couldn't help feeling sorry for him (and his parents), but it had to be done.

He'll probably just get a warning anyway.

Unless, of course, it's not his first offence.

Still, at least he wasn't a Liverpudlian so ol' thin-skin won't be able to accuse me of anti-Liverpudlian bias will he ? Every cloud.......

Blue Moon

Can't stop. Must dash. City v Groclin EUFA Cup tonight at the City of Manchester Stadium (COMS). 8:00pm ko.

Come on you Blues !!

Burn Baby Burn

Looks like someone took offence at my reference to firework abuse in the Liverpool area yesterday. From what I can gather, whoever it was doesn't like my reference to "scouse scallies" - not that I can see any reference to "scouse scallies" myself. What I did refer to was "a shaven-headed scrote and his mates squandering their hard-robbed drug money". Now let me be unequivocal about this:- shaven headed scrotes exist everywhere. I wasn't having a go at Liverpool alone - it's just that that's what was reported on the radio. The same thing probably happens in the Manchester area and elsewhere, it simply hasn't been brought to my notice....yet. Anyway, given the fact that Merseyside's Chief Constable felt the need to present the home secretary with a dossier detailing the fearsome rise in firework abuse, perhaps they'd care to examine the reality rather than automatically jump to the conclusion that I was having a go at "scouse scallies".

Try growing a thicker skin and, while you're at it, you may care to peruse the following:-

Car Explodes in Firework Attack

Attacks Linked to Firework Gang

Firework Attack on Police Station

And finally - in the interest of balance.......

The Rest of the Country are Dickheads Too

Right that's got that out of my system. Sorry for the rant but "My Country City Right or Wrong" just makes me so fucking angry.

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Many years ago when it was Dearest's Birthday, I had the bright idea of making a compilation tape of all tunes she had enthused about that were lurking among my CDs, albums and cassettes. She'd often complained that she never knew where to find the particular ditties she wanted to hear and "couldn't be arsed" trawling through a sizable collection of the things just to find the few she wanted to listen to.

A few weeks of surreptitious investigation later, I had established just what was required and had the finished article all done and dusted. Wittily titled "Elaine's Birthday Tape" it had a "designed-and-printed-on-the-computer* sleeve listing the tracks and artists. It was - as it proclaimed - a "TLC Production".

That was in 1993. Over ten years later and I'm still at it, although the *tape* has evolved into the *CD* now. Trouble is it gets harder to find anything new to put on it that Dearest will adore. This year's is becoming particularly difficult to nail. I've got about three weeks left. God bless Kazaa.

Next year she wants a "50th Birthday" Box Set !!!

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Well Arsenal left it late tonight to keep their Champion's League hopes alive. Why can't Ashley Cole score in the league ? He's on my Fantasy Footie team and always seems to cost me points at the end of the day. It's either letting goals in, getting booked or not starting the game. End result ? Minus points ! Trouble is I can't afford anyone decent to replace him.

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I've added a link to a blog by a funeral director from the north of England. Really very good considering he's a Blackburn Rovers supporter.

True Colours

Nice to see the Tories in the headlines for all the wrong reasons again. How sad for one of Michael Howard's old friends to suffer the indignity of having her assets frozen. (Oooh Errr missus !) No doubt apologists will be harping on about this being a left-wing witch hunt and attempting to point out all Shirley's achievements (such as selling three Westminster Cemetaries to her friends in property development for the princely sum of 15p. The council found itself having to buy them back three years later for the slighly more significant sum of £4.2m.)

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Does anybody think that the latest Government measures to restrict firework use will stop the moronic element ? Maybe. Who knows. I guess the proof will be in the pudding. Even so the legislation will only outlaw devices that are louder than a jet engine taking off ! I'd keep those ear plugs handy if I were you.

There was a discussion on 5LIve last weekend regarding the menace of modern fireworks and it was pointed out (by Charlie Whelan if my memory serves me well) that a pilot friend of his lived in fear of having to land at Liverpool's John Lennon airport at this time of year. Apparently certain estates in the flight path have become notorious for powerful rockets being fired at the descending aircraft. That, in my view, is enough to ban them for good. Apart from the obvious terrorist implications, I - and my family - were flying back from Madrid to Liverpool this time last year and if I'd have known that some shaven-headed scrote and his mates had been squandering their hard-robbed drug money on potential WMDs that were intended to bring down an airliner, "y'know, fer-a-laugh-like", then I think I would have wanted to - and should be allowed to - hunt them down and set them on fire. Or is it just that soceity has failed them ?

C'mon, hark back to your childhoods: knock-a-door-run-away and nicking apples off trees was considered the height of naughtiness when I was a lad on the council estate where I grew up. I can't conceive of anyone thinking of bringing down an airliner full of innocents. Can you ?

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Speaking of aircraft, I noticed that during the recent orgy of Concord-love, you couldn't move for misty-eyed reminiscences of the plane's heyday. Its stunning, aeronautical beauty. Its ability to whisk those rich enough across the Atlantic in less time than it takes to drive from London to Manchester.

Strangely nobody referred to the one abiding memory I have of a trip from Paris to......well.....Paris. Nobody mentioned the shenanigins and prevarication over what caused the tragedy and whether the aircraft were still safe.

Given the fact that they are now *retired*, I think we got our answer.

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Shit day at work today. I'm getting tired of the avalanche of nonsense dropping into my inbox from the arse-licking sycophants movers and shakers that, somehow are able to run businesses but are unable to speak English. If anyone else *empowers* me, talks of *leveraging* business opportunities (?) or waxes lyrical about *synergies* again, I swear I'll *push them up the value tree*. Which, apparently, is what they want to do to me.

Tomorrow they are introducing yet another system to handle fault calls and logs. This will the fifth they have introduced since they dumped the one that had worked perfectly well for ten years or more. One that had more functionality than all its successors put together. Oooops....was that me talking business-bollocks-speak just then ? "Functionality" ? Time for bed I think.

Ramble On

I've been a bit knackered of late. What with the cooking, cleaning, shopping.....working, I just don't seem to have time to myself at all. Still every cloud has a silver lining and in my case the silver lining has come in the form of "Learning How to Shop".

Now I can already hear the half-stifled guffaws from male and female alike. "Learn how to shop ? He's 'aving a laugh ain't 'e ?"

Well no, I'm not. Like many other men (and more than a few women), I detest shopping. Honestly I would sincerely prefer to chew my own kneecaps off than willfully embark on a shopping expedition. Even when it's for stuff for myself. Stuff that I enjoy such as CDs, guitars and beer. The actual act of getting off my arse and going to shop for it fills me with dread.

Not any longer though. Having been forced into the role of *man the hunter* I am becoming as adept at purchase as Imelda Marcos in a shoe shop. On top of that, after a mere three weeks trolley pushing I can sense every bargain in the store, from BOGOFs to 50% EXTRA FREE !! I buy that many of the things it wouldn't surprise me if one week, after tilling up, they turned round and told me that they owe me money such is the shrewdness of my purchasing. God knows just how good at this I'll be before Dearest gets fully back on her feet.

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Youngest organised a last-minute Hallowe'en fancy dress party at his house last Friday. Dearest and myself didn't dress up (too little notice really). We just went as the old(ish) relatives who sit in the corner getting inebriated, talking about "the good ol' days" and leaving at a still respectable hour.

Considering the time-scale there were some excellent costumes there. The Ginger Princess had evidently put much effort into her witch's outfit. Youngest's Darlin's Bride of Frankenstein was really good. But pride of place had to go to Youngest who came as.........Danger Mouse ! Complete with eye-patch, nose, ears and all-white cat-suit-type concoction. If only his Darlin' had gone as Penfold it would have been perfect.

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A great win for City against Gordon Strachan's Southampton on Saturday. I just hope the rumours of a bust up between Keegan and Anelka are untrue.

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So modern music - as peddled on such shows as Pop Idol - has got that bad that Parliament has had to step in to save it. Sadly, although it seems like the MPs are fighting for "talent over image" they are, in fact, merely championing the right of slightly fatter people to be as mediocre as the rest on national TV and Radio.

As we're discussing the music industry, Janis Ian has posted an article detailing the benefits of providing freely downloadable music on the web. She convincingly argues that, far from harming artists, it could open up a whole new market for them. She uses her own experiences to back this up. I know it's only one example but I'm still convinced that lack of CD sales has got more to do with the homogenisation of the industry and the product on offer than with internet downloading. It's just Fat Cats frightened of getting thinner believe me.

I am indebted to Fred over at Master of the House for the link.

Thriller

When it was still the 1970s, there was no such thing as "Trick or Treat" here in the sceptered Isle known as Britain. At the most you would have been pestered by a few kids knocking on your door and singing (at least round these parts) "We Come a-Cob-a-Coaling".

Nowadays everything has changed. Suddenly the whole capitalistic jamboree that Halloween has now become, is threatening to take over the autumn. I can see in the near future, a joint, one week *celebration* that takes in both Halloween AND Guy Fawkes Night. This will necessitate at least 7 weeks of selling, purchasing and the letting off of loud, barely legal, fireworks.

Amazing really; the celebration of Pagan ritual, allied with the celebration of a thwarted Catholic coup in a - supposedly - secular country that still - automatically - elevates Bishops to the House of Lords.

Do you know who I blame for all this ? Well, I will tell you: Stephen frigging Speilberg that's who. If that bastard hadn't made such a big thing out of the "Trick or Treat" scene in ET, the whole edifice of Halloween might - just might - have never gained a foothold here in the European hinterland.

Naturally, unscrupulous bastards Big Business has picked up on this and is over the moon at being able to sell, to a gullible public, tat of the highest order.

The entire thing is a mere 20 years old !! WTF ?

All Tomorrow's Parties

'Ey. Guess what I did today ? Something I've never done before in my entire life (well not *this* way anyway). Furthermore, it was quick and easy and I took to it like a duck to water. There was no 'first time nerves', no will-it-really-work ? or 'owt like that. Just dead easy instructions and in one minute it was all done and dusted.

I think voting via t'internet is the way forward. 'Cos that's what |'ve just done.

The envelope from the Electral Reform Soceity arrived a couple of days ago. I knew that my firm had, reluctantly, agreed to having a works council - with elected representatives from the employees sitting alongside the back-stabbing, in-fighting 'my-career-at-all-costs' tossers who run the company. I had also noted that this was now a legal requirement and that this fact could, quite possibly, have had more to do with management's *enthusiam* for the idea than a glut of altruistic socialism suddenly affecting the CEO and his immediate underlings. Nonetheless, making the most of what we had, I duly opened it with a view to marking my cross and returning the ballot paper via the pre-paid envelope provided.

Imagine my surprise when, at the top of the ballot paper, I spot the phrase "You may vote by Internet or Post". All made possible by these kind people. Easy-peasy !

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Well, the first phase of my predictions re: IDS came true - although I must admit the PR-self-styled "quiet man" polled a respectable 75 votes to 90. Michael Howard is increasingly looking like the one the rank-and-file want to lead them into the promised land. I do hope they put their misguided faith in the man who will be probably best remebered for his hilarious interview with Jeremy Paxman. He's about as electable as Pol Pot.

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The Argos website has got "snow" and Santa Claus on the home page. It's not Novemeber yet. Snow and Santa Claus ? WTF ?

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Tonight's breaking news is that Dearest has decided to attend tomorrow evening's weekly quiz at the local !! I'll have to drive her there but she will walk back - thus fulfilling the day's requirement for exercise. That walk will probably take about half-an-hour where usually it takes less than five minutes but, who cares ? Dearest is on her way back ! Yes !!!!

This is the Modern World

Here I am, sat in my 'music and PC' room listening to the online commentary of the QPR v Man City game. It never ceases to amaze me just what the internet can achieve. 5 years ago - or less - this was just a pipedream for most people. Oh sure it was possible, but, even over the most up-to-date modem, streaming audio was, at best, patchy.

I've now been directed to a website that acts as a portal to TV stations all over the world. Allied to this is a website that tells me what Premiership, Nationwide and Cup games are being broadcast live on various satellite channels all over the world. Marry the two together and we have freely available live football wherever and whenever.

Now I know that sport in general and football in particular are not everybody's cup of tea, but you can't but help but be impressed by the leaps in technology.

PS City won 3-0 and United have been taken to extra time by Leeds who have just equalised to make the score 2-2. Mind you, as I type United have just gone in front.

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My Mam came round today and manufactured a good, old fashioned pea and ham soup, made with a ham shank, split peas, marrowfat peas and other veg, How many people *make* soup anymore ? How many people have the time ? Sad really, but I guess it's just like a lot of other areas of life - time is the one thing that no one seems to be able to afford these days.

Incidentally, young Jess (10 years of age) was at ours today as well watching my Mam make the soup. When she realised there was part of a pig - including the bone in it she was appalled. Now, Jess isn't a veggie - in fact she loves a lot of different types of meat - but, like a lot of kids these days, she has practically no experience of equating the animal to the beefburger, bacon, sausage, meat pie etc etc.

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Well, unsurprisingly, IDS has been presented with enough signatures to force a vote of confidence in the beleaguered Tory leader,

I can't make my mind up about this. Is the next Tory PM waiting in the wings ? Or hasn't he been elected - or even born - yet ? Ken Clarke was obviously the man, but the stupid buggers voted him down - twice ! Michael Portillo is another once-leader-in-waiting. Or maybe even Michael Howard ? Why would anyone with truly serious ambitions to become PM risk showing his hand now ? Why attempt to lead a Party that still has to come to terms with Europe ? A Party that is increasingly looking like the Labour party of the 1980s.

I predict an IDS defeat tomorrow, followed by the MPs presenting a nonentity (David Davies) or a has been (Michael Howard) maybe versus a Europhile (Ken Clarke) or a ex-hard-man-now-re-modeled-as-cuddly (Michael Portillo).

Happily the Blue-rinse brigade have the final say, and I can't see them voting for anyone remotely attractive to the rest of the electorate.

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Earlier, the BBC website was reporting that Willie Windsor had agreed to meet Paul Burrell. Mind you, that story now seems to have disappeared. Even so, if true, what the hell has the Royal Family to gain from a get together like this ?

He can't stop the revelations that have already emerged from Burrell's book, but he can stop the allegedly juicer tit bits that Burrell still is privy to. There is - for example - the little matter of the male rape of a servant by........well, exactly, by who ?

Eeeeeeh, now that *IS* something I would like to know ;-}

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I see Dubya isn't going to be intimidated by suicide bombers in Iraq. Well you wouldn't would you ? It's not exactly you they are blowing up is it ? I still remember you disappearing for hours on Sept 9th 2001. But then you've always been a coward haven't you George ?

Just remind me again who's idea it was to invade Iraq ?

BTW I've added another Iraqi link on the right. Boots on the Gound is a newly started blog by a young USA Infantryman. It's good to hear both sides from where it matters - especially wiith so much bias and spin from the various news media. Let's all drink to the Blogosphere.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Another Sunday. Not as frenetic as last week as there was only Dearest and myself. Eldest stayed over at his Darlin's. So, a lie in that was helped along by the putting back of the clocks and a leisurely breakfast after which we read the papers. Dearest's brother called later and, after he'd gone, Youngest arrived for a visit. Youngest ended up staying for tea - Beef, potato and onion Karai curry with basmati rice and naan.

After washing the pots I sorted out some washing and then turned thoughts to tomorrows evening meal. I decide on braised steak with mushrooms and onions with spuds and veg. I've got the steak, mushies and onions in the casserole dish in the fridge. Tomorrow I'll nip home at dinner and put it in the oven. About 2.5 hours before we're due to eat, I'll phone Dearest and she'll turn the oven on. All I have to do then is peel and boil the Maris Pipers when I get home from work. Piece 'o' piss as they say round these parts.

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I'm in the process of selecting around 50 of my digital snaps I acquired on the Med cruise to have printed up at Boots. A few weeks later I'm quite chuffed with some but not others. The saddest ones of all I think, are all taken of Gaudi's magnificent cathedral in Barcelona. Because it still is very much a 'work in progress', the place is littered with cranes, site huts, dumper trucks and all the rest of the detrius of a building site. Add to this the massing hordes (myself included), and it gets really hard to get a decent photograph.

In the end I blended four different images and added some motion blur. After increasing the saturation and contrast, I'm quite pleased with the result.

Dearest is downstairs cheering herself up with "Silent Witness". She loves it - it's about a forensic scientist who is constantly solving gruesome murders that are apparently beyond the ken of the local police. Me ? I think it's a dreary and depressing way to spend a Sunday evening but, one man's meat and all that eh ?

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I see the wraiths that serve *our* monarchy are utilising every trick in the book to paint Paul Burrell as a villain of the highest order. I guess if anyone would have known what was likely to be thrown at him, then Burrell would. It astonishes me that anyone, anywhere could still believe that the Royal Family has an ounce of credibility left. All this bollocks about the Queen somehow being *above and beyond* all the scandal is palpable nonsense. She's the bloody Queen fer Christ's sake ! She knows everything.

If there's anyone out there with legal training, can you please shed some light on this dilemma I have:-

If somebody dies in a car crash and a few years later a letter - supposedly written by the victim of that crash - comes to light stating that the victim believed someone was planning to interfere with a motor vehicle in order to kill or significantly maim them, wouldn't that be classed as 'new evidence' ? New evidence that, in normal circumstances would have, at least, created some interest from the boys in blue ? Or am I missing something ?

It stinks, that's what it does. It stinks.