I mean, as if it is isn’t enough knowing that humankind can produce people like Robert Mugabe and Glenn Beck some seriously fucked up scientists now claim that your average football hooligan is more evolved than, let’s say, a Mother Theresa:
“Researchers now believe that being aggressive, intolerant and short-tempered could be a sign of a more advanced nature. A more childlike attitude to behaviour such as tolerance and sharing, could, in contrast, be an indication of not being as developed, the new study suggests.”
To which, in the spirit of this research, I can only answer with a, “Fuck off and die, you white-coated morons.”
(Yes, that’s ever so much more civilized than THIS…)
Sometimes, things just irritate the Hell out of me.
This is one of those times…
… and this is what really annoyed me
“It has always been mysterious.It has always been mystifying. And now the OUIJA Board is just for you, girl. With 72 fun questions included, you’ll never run out of things to ask. Who will call/text me next? Will I be a famous actor someday? Who wishes they could trade places with me? Gather your friends around, draw a card, place your fingers on the planchette and ask your question.”
Sometimes, it’s hard to be a Muslim. I mean, look at the state of the world. When the IRA was bombing the shit out of England and knee-capping God knows how many of their own country men, did the international airlines start to strip search priests and nuns? Did the police stop & search anyone wearing a crucifix?
No, they did not – even though the IRA was much better at this whole bombing business than those demented Muslim ‘martyrs’, who would be much better off if they joined some self harm group instead.
Still, because of some imbeciles who set fire to their own shoes and underwear, all Muslims are now treated as potentially rabid dogs. Which ain’t very nice.
From Muslims now to Jews though. So, if it is, at times, hard to be a Muslim, it’s always hard to be a Jew. The writer Dan Simmons once told a story about how he and a few colleages, in 2000, were asked to write a SF story that had to be set in the year 3000.
Now, predicting what will happen in the next ten years or so is tough enough but speculating about stuff a thousand years from now is sheer madness.
Until, as Simmons wrote, he realized that, however vast the oceans of times between now and any possible then, there would always be people who would want to kill all the Jews.
Anyway, you know all of that – and I wouldn’t have brought it up if I hadn’t come upon a news story that, once again, proved that life always lands Muslims and Jews with their peanut butter side on the floor.
Here it is:
“Eating pork is at least as effective as popping a Viagra pill to spice up your romantic life, according to Argentine President Cristina Kirchner, who claims to have tested the theory. “Pork consumption improves sexual activity,” Mrs Kirchner informed a gathering of business people at a meeting at the presidential palace. “This is not a small detail,” she said at the gathering to announce a reduction in the price of pork. “Besides, some nicely grilled pork is much more gratifying than taking Viagra.”
Those of you who are still stunned by the break-up of the Jolie and Pitt marriage should look away now…
… cause I have another heart break story for you, today.
To be sure, the couple involved hasn’t got the same name recognition value as, let’s say, your average Heather Mills & Paul McCartney. They didn’t meet, Jordan & Peter style, live on television.
She has not been involved in knickerless up skirt shots and he was never arrested for beating her up.
Still, it is a sad, sad day for romance, again:
“Experts have told of their surprise after witnessing a rare “divorce” between a pair of swans at a Gloucestershire wildfowl sanctuary. The Bewick’s swans have returned to winter at the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust centre at Slimbridge - but both have brought new partners.”
So far, so Hollywood, you might say. Like Tom Cruise dropping partner number one and replacing her with victim number two immediately.
You can almost hear Brad Pitt’s first wife shrugging and murmuring, ‘Been there, been done, got the T-shirt’ – but the article continues:
“It is only the second time in more than 40 years that a “separation” has been recorded at the centre.”
Now, imagine a far flung, alternative universe, where you could read a newspaper article that started with the line, ‘It is only the second time in more than 40 years that a “separation” has been recorded in Hollywood.’
No, I can’t imagine such a world either, to be honest.
I don’t know what is happening but there’s a lot of talk about aliens today, in various newspapers. One claims that aliens would look just like us, while another states we wouldn’t recognize them (as sentient alien beings) if we met them - and yet another states aliens won’t be able to hear us over all the digital noise we’re making.
Then, there is that old debate about what will happen when we meet an alien species. Will they be nice ET types or the kind that will even give Sigourney Weaver grey hairs – and should we risk trying to contact them?
Or, as this Times article has it:
“Fifty fruitless years of scanning the heavens for signalshas prompted some astronomers to abandon their roles as passive listeners and to start shouting across the cosmos.There are plenty of observers who believe such hopeful hollering to be deeply unwise. Sir Bernard Lovell, the founding director of Jodrell Bank, together with the physicist Freeman Dyson and the intellectual Jared Diamond, believe that the terrestrial hand of courtesy should be extended with extreme caution. Their hesitancy is based on uncertainty about whether any extraterrestrials belong to the Spielberg school of cute’n’cuddly, or the Tim Burton institute for the murderously deranged.“
Well, I’m not convinced of any of the above. I think that there may be a huge number of alien races that already know all they need to know about us.
Call it the ‘universe as a bus’ theory – which goes like this:
Picture the universe as a bus. More specifically, the last bus to leave the centre of town, just when the pubs have closed.
Now, all kinds of perfectly normal people will have perfectly normal reasons to take this bus from various points A to quite respectable points B – and all of them have spotted the disgusting drunk, sitting at the back of the bus.
He’s vomited all over his grubby clothes, he smells like the love child of a Victorian gin house and a sewage plant, and he’s shouting insanely at invisible enemies, while waving his arms in a threatening manner…
… so, none of the other passengers want to go near him, let alone ‘contact’ him.
Yup, you’ve got it.
Humanity is that drunk. The aliens are the normal passengers, who don’t want to have anything to do with us…
I’ve said it quite a few times before but the way so many people live in the West is totally disgusting. We are burning up the earth’s natural resources and stuff our collective faces, while a good proportion of the rest of the world’s population starves.
There is an ironic side to this, of course. Thanks to our revolting eating habits, a large percentage of the West’s popultion is now morbidly obese, which means there are now about as many people dying from overweight related heart diseases, diabetes and cancers in the West as there are people dying during your average famine in Ethiopia.
Talking of morbidly obese, by the way, the following story in the Telegraph had me snigger like a fat man who’s been given the Keys to the Kingdom of McDonald’s:
“A report by Tunbridge Wells Borough Council has found an increasing number of cases where bodies will not fit properly in furnaces at Kent and Sussex Crematorium. At present bodies which are too big to be dealt with have to be transported to larger crematoria which can accommodate them in south London or Sittingbourne. But the council is now considering charging more for cremations involving bigger coffins to help pay for improvements costing up to £1.7million.”
There’s something so right about this, and so elegant too.
I mean, we already have airlines charging fat folks extra to take them close to Heaven – and now these same people have to pay a tax in order to get a taste of what might await them when they end up at the other side of that Biblical equation.
As divine statements go, this one sure beats the crap out of the old ‘And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God’ routine
I’ve always thought that explorations would be so much easier if you could skip the actual exploring.
Why would you have to go to Africa and machete your way through jungles, where poisonous spiders & snakes, hungry lions and disrespectful monkeys dwell, when you can make a simple phone call to Mr Livingstone (I presume?)
Also, why go all the way to Scotland, to some miserable lake, when you can stay at home and hunt for elusive prehistoric monsters in your own comfortable hot tub?
No, it’s no use calling me a lazy so-and-so, because science is firmly supportive of this laid back approach to exploration.
Enter professor Paul Davies, of Arizona University:
“The search for alien life forms should be conducted here on Earthrather than in outer space, scientists have claimed. Professor Paul Davies, a physicist at Arizona University will tell a meeting at the Royal Society that the best way of proving that extra-terrestrial life exists elsewhere in the universe is to use evidence from earth.”
(I’d rather be eaten by lions, or have a threesome with Nessie and an alien…)
“To my mind, the world would be a much better place if Messrs Gilbert and Sullivan had been imprisoned at a very early age. And if Andrew Lloyd Webber — whom I like very much as a chap — had been born deaf.But there is nothing that Gilbert, Lloyd Webber, Rodgers, Rice, Sullivan or Hammerstein could have conceived that could even get close to the remorselessly twee and hateful Mamma Mia!.”
Gods, how I loathe ABBA – let me count the ways…
… or let’s not. Life’s too short to spend more than a percentage of a nanosecond on those Swedish aural pollutants.
Still, as Bad as ABBA is in its original form, as a musical it must be a thousand times worse. That’s what musicals are for: To remind us that there are far worse things than burning in Hell for eternity.
Anyway, so normally I would agree that the world would have been a better place if Gilbert and Sullivan would have been the two first atom bombs to have landed on one metropole or the other, instead of becoming the most famous musical composers in history.
Still, I do admit that, sometimes, they knew what they were talking about – as the following lines prove:
I was reminded of that when I read the following article:
“Eighteen pigs wrapped in protective Kevlar blanketswere blasted in a bid to help scientists understand more about the effects of bomb blasts on victims.The animals were placed less than three yards from an explosive. Before being blown up, tubes were inserted into their blood vessels and bladders, and their spleens were removed. A wire was also put into a major abdominal blood vessel to ensure the vessel became lacerated in the explosion.”
Take one consideration with another, a pig’s lot is not a happy one, indeed.
Well, what I do know is that I don’t want to spend more than a few nano seconds trawling the heavily polluted newspaper sea today.
What with stories like this:
“Police in the UK are planning to use unmanned spy drones,controversially deployed in Afghanistan, for the “routine” monitoring of antisocial motorists, protesters, agricultural thieves and fly-tippers, in a significant expansion of covert state surveillance.”
Or this:
“The parents of two brotherswhose “toxic” upbringing led them to torture two innocent children face prosecution for neglect and child abuse, police revealed last night.”
In other words, it’s much better to stay in bed, keep the curtains firmly closed and pretend nothing of any lurid significance ever happens.
Hell, the only reason I’m here, talking to myself and to anyone reading this, is that my lady left the bed to take a shower.
When she’s done with that I hope I can convince her to return to bed.
In the meantime, my advice to anyone out there would be: Ignore the news, find a serious love-of-your-life and stay in bed.
