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This blog has become phenomenally unpopular. So few people read my musings that I’d imagine a notice nailed to a fence post somewhere in the wilds of Dartmoor would attract more attention from occasional passers by. No matter, I shall continue this saltatory rant for a good while longer, so if any disorientated virtual rambler does stumble upon this backwater, at least they’ll have plenty to read. Of course, unlike a stranded hiker, they’ll also have the option of looking at the entire internet instead, including porn, so I don’t expect them to stick around and read much, just take a look at this picture of an arse with a tap on it and fuck off to your images of stuffed orifices and self loathing you onanists.

This week I’ve been wondering about the Fort Hood shooter (BBC News). I remember that on the 3rd of November five British soldiers were killed by a rogue Afghan policeman in Southern Afghanistan(BBC News). In a statement in response to the killings Hamid Karzai’s Presidential spokesman Humayun Hamidzada said it was an isolated attack:

"These are incidents that can happen anywhere. The crazy man who has done this has also attacked the Afghan police," he told the AP. "You can't use this isolated incident to say that there is a problem with the police force of Afghanistan. In the U.S., people shoot up people in a shopping mall. There are crazy people everywhere."

(Quote from AP)

The next day a crazy person decided to shoot up an American army base in Texas. I wonder if Nidal Malik Hasan had read the words of Mr Hamidzada before he set out to kill those 13 people. I’m not for a moment suggesting that it was his motivation. I wouldn’t like to speculate; just that it is a coincidence.

If this was a conspiracy theorist blog then, firstly, I would probably get more hits, from mental people. Secondly I would speculate that it was the CIA – of course - they could easily have brainwashed Hasan during his training as a psychiatrist. They usually brainwash people during ‘sleep experiments’ they run as fronts for evil brainwashing schemes. Then of course it was just a formality to have Hamidzada say what he did. Karzai’s brother swapped his notes, we all know Karzai’s brother is a CIA lackey after all. Then . . .

Well as I said this isn’t a conspiracy theorist blog, so ignore all that.

In 2005 a 35-mile rift opened up in the desert in Ethiopia in a matter of days. This was caused by the rifting of the African and Arabian plates. The African and Arabian plates have been moving apart at 1 inch per year for the last 30 million years. 30 million inches is 500 miles. 500 miles is the distance the Proclaimers would walk to fall down at your door, but as the Proclaimers will tell you, they’re willing to walk an additional 500 miles just to be the man who walked 1000 miles to fall down at your door. Well the boastful Proclaimers might be nippy when compared to plate tectonics, but they shouldn’t get complacent, because in another 30 million years, that’s half the time between now and the dinosaurs, the African and Arabian plates will have caught their long dead, fallen down, asses and will have rifted 1,000 miles just to form a new ocean. Eat on that you speccy Scottish singing gits.

Check it out.

Have you been following the news about the government’s chief drug advisor Professor Nutts? I’ll just give you a quick run down to get you up to speed:

Nutts was stiffing for his government bread-wren giving dem the view from the street on drugs, but when he served it up theyz all, this shit is whack. Nutt was like, that is diss, these kids are asking for a beatdown. So Nutt starts frontin saying the government are swag, but Johnson, the Secretary of the House, shanked Nutt up – oh my days – saying Nuttz shouldn’t be frontin and should stay in the laboratory with his drugs an get mashed up and leave the politics to the proper gangsta mother fuckers. Now Nuttz has no job (like my baby father) and cos he’s all into drugs and shit he’s properly well fucked up.

I find it rather absurd that they hired this guy to provide them with an opinion then fired him for expressing his opinion, but I suppose that’s the rule of the street and that’s not really what I’m interested in. What I like in a news story about cannabis is the library footage that the BBC news uses. Is it just me, or do they have rather a lot of it. Man skinning up a fat one, man sparking up a joint, man taking a long drag on big spliff, arty shot of wispy smoke. The BBC’s footage of cannabis use isn’t like other crime footage – grainy CCTV of hoodies being anti social (rejecting party invites) or hooligans throwing plastic chairs – it’s much clearer, like they’ve arranged to have someone take cannabis for the purpose of filming them, which surely makes them complicit.

I’d like to know how they go about arranging these shoots, do they have a go-to man that they ring up and meet at the Esso garage, but instead of buying drugs, they pay him to get stoned while they film him. Does he get royalties? Is there some ex-dealer out there who gets a cheque in the post every time there is a story in the papers about cannabis? I hope there is, and I hope he spends the money on drugs every time. It would be particularly ironic if he was trying to go clean but he can’t because he keeps getting paid to get stoned again and again. If only the controversy about cannabis would end, it’s destroying lives.

Of course it could just be that there are a couple of technicians in the BBC film library with blood shot eyes eating take away pizza and giggling hysterically while they watch themselves get high on the six O’clock news.

I’m particularly enjoying the manoeuvrings of the Roman Catholic Church this week. If you haven’t heard, The Pope, Benedict XVI, a man that looks like Baron Von Greenback in a white toupee, has issued a papal decree that opens the way for Anglicans to jump ship and join his gang of papists (Link Guardian). The manoeuvre will reportedly gain the Pope an additional half a million souls which will make Jesus very happy/sad depending on who you believe is right and the quality of the souls in question.

The reason that all these believers want to change their beliefs is that Rowan Williams has been recklessly ordaining women and gays. I like to imagine this as the Pope and The Arch Bishop, let’s call him Archy, playing a game of chess. Archy brings his Gay Bishop into play, threatening to reveal the Pope’s Queens, but Archy has left himself exposed and in the next move Benedict is able to capture half a million of Archy’s pawns. Half a million intolerant, misogynistic, Daily Express reading, pawns, but half a million pawns none the less. Archy sits impassively contemplating the Pope’s coup, his only show of emotion is to slightly raise one of his enormous, ornate, owl feather, eyebrows.

It might seem like a great move by the Pope, but if you put it in a historical context its small potatoes. This is a game that was started nearly five hundred years ago by the famously tyrannical, misogynist, Henry VIII in an opportunistic move that not only allowed him to bonk yet another unfortunate woman, but also allowed him to pinch all of the Papist land and money within his kingdom. A move that quadrupled the value of the land that the king controlled, as well as netting him a million quid in gold and silver (you can times that by about 300 to get close to a modern value). That is a pretty sweet opening gambit. Rome replied with Mary I, her special move was to set fire to Protestants, but she dropped the ball when she failed to conceive (could this be the source of the Catholic aversion to contraception?). Rome’s next plan involved a full scale naval invasion, but that particular armada sunk and so the story continued.

This latest twist means we can add sodomy and misogyny to the list of players in this five hundred year long saga; they’ll take their place alongside adultery, beheadings, burning at the stake, war, sectarianism, money, politics and power. What a heart warming story of compassion. Jesus must be so very proud.

the picture is too wide for this blog, so I posted it here.

I have just made a profile for Nick Griffin on Interracialromance.com

Nick Griffin

Headline: Orthodox Opinions - Pah!

Describe Yourself:

I'm an author, journalist, political campaigner, public speaker, member of the European Parliament. In 1998 I was convicted of distributing material likely to incite racial hatred, but what I really want to distribute is interracial romance.

I really shouldn't be left alone.

Oh you missed it, watch the highlights:

From Cassetteboy.

Nick had nothing to contribute to the world. He was unemployed and cronically lazy, he had not earned a days wages in almost a decade. After Nick lost his job he’d tried to stay positive, at first he had spent every day looking in the paper and at the job boards at the job centre, but his efforts were fruitless and pretty soon it started to wear. He still looked at the job boards, but blankly, the jobs meant nothing to him. Then he stopped going all together.

Nick had never had much of a stomach for a fight. He resigned himself to redundancy. The days and weeks started to merge. Without an income Nick had to lower his expectations, a walk in the park is a simple pleasure to most people, but when the park is the only place open to you life starts to feel like a prison. Nick’s prospects closed in on him. Sadness built up inside of him, clogging the arteries that fed his spirt. Soon Nick couldn’t even contribute a smile. His personality was in recession. People he’d known for a long time started to avoid him. He no longer liked himself, he wasn’t interesting, he wasn’t funny, his mind was full of torment. He started to get angry, then he stopped sleeping.

He lay awake at night thinking. How had he come to this. How, why, who was responsible for the malaise that enveloped his every waking moment. It hadn’t always been like this. Hate, malignant hatred, infected his thinking. The faces he saw while he was stalking the park during the day came back to him at night. The mums pushing prams, the children on their way home from school. They had a place in this world, something to contribute. Nick had no place, no friends, no community. Allot of the people in the park were Asian. The city in which Nick lived had a vibrant Asian community. Nick started to think that the Asians had taken away his community, taken away his job, taken away his friends and he hated them for it.

And that’s where racists come from.

Dear Chris Wilkins and Sian Vickers

I understand that you are the husband and wife creative team responsible for Gio Compario the fictional opera singer currently featuring in adverts for the price comparison website Go Compare. You pricks, why would you do such a thing?

Regards

Mjohnson

I couldn’t find an address for Chris and Sian so they may never receive my carefully worded critique of their work, which is a real shame. If anyone reading this knows either of these guys can you just send them the link, you may also want to question the type of company you keep.

I've already put this link in my Delicious links, but I also want to make a note of it here. It's a link to a post by the documentary maker Adam Curtis, the man who responsible for The Power of Nightmares series. He writes an excellent blog for the BBC, where recently, he has been researching the history of modern Afghanistan. This is the third post he has written on Afghanistan, they're all worth reading, but to me this is the most extraordinary. His story centers around the Kajaki dam, an American aid project begun in the 50s, but he doesn't just tell the story of the dam he tells the story of the ideas, the political theories, the cultural shifts, behind the policies. By doing this he is able to link sewing machines in Kandahar with forced relocation programmes in Vietnam.

The other thing I like about Adam's blog is the way he uses the medium. The internet, text, pictures, video, links to other sites to tell his story. He's not the first to do this, but he does do it very well.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/adamcurtis/2009/10/kabul_city_number_one_part_3.html

I made this film - won't let me embed it though. You just can't get the staff!

Watch it by following this link.

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch?e=20091004143640386

My girlfriend wants to see Fat Freddy’s Drop at Hammersmith Apollo. Having never heard of them, I’m not that keen, but since I don’t want her to have fun without me, and I don’t permit her to be outside of the house in the presence of other men without me or her eunuch, I have to buy another ticket. It turns out they’re 29 quid, so I’ve come up with a scheme – Begging Letter:

Dear Fat Freddie

My girlfriend and I hope to attend you concert at the Hammersmith Apollo in November 2009, unfortunately an urgent need for driving lessons has put considerable strain on our finances. Please consider sending us some Fat Freebie tickets so that I can continue to learn to drive and come to your concert.

I know what you’re thinking, there are plenty of people in urgent need of driving lessons you can’t possibly be expected to give them all free tickets. That is why I have formulated a fable fat enough to tug on your clogged heart strings, you see, I once had a Ferret, a Fat Ferret, called Freddie. Un-Fortunately Freddie the fat ferret finished ferreting forever when the foam in my futon caught fire, it fried furry Freddie. The fashionably late firemen fought the flames, but their fight was futile, the furnace’s fumes had found forlorn Freddie and fumigated him and his fecund fleas fatally. Freddie’s funeral was in February, on a Friday, the first. I fainted from the formaldehyde fumes.

As you can see I’ve not had it easy and as I did name my fictional ferret after you (he loved his folk music) please give me free tickets.

Best Wishes

Mjohnson

I’ve just eaten a whole English pound’s worth of Iceland’s Chicken-Tikka Lasagne for lunch and it’s opened my eyes to a whole new world of food. Does this development mark the dawn of an exciting new food movement; Chav Fusion?

The idea of replacing the Bolognese sauce in a lasagne with a Chicken-Tikka curry is game changing. British cuisine hasn’t seen a development like this since a hungry maverick wanted a fry-up for lunch and invented the all day breakfast. The real genius of the form is that it challenges the convention that a lasagne contains a bolognaise sauce and opens the way for a whole new world of meat-sauce based, cooked, pasta sandwiches – all topped off with cheddar cheese. Chilli, Coq au van, sweet and sour prawns, these dishes always had the potential to be baked between pasta sheets with Béchamel sauce, we just didn’t see it.

I wonder whether this creative masterstroke was the work of an individual or a focus group: “Our findings are that a typical customer’s favourite meal is either lasagne, or Chicken-Tikka curry, if only there was some way we could combine the two. . . ” Whoever it was that made the leap they deserve a peerage - we have precedent - they made the guy that invented the sandwich an Earl. Can I dare to dream that it was the recently disgraced Kerry Katona, perhaps in some bizarre, Beadles About style, industrial, kitchen accident: ‘I’ll just have a sneaky little line behind this mechanical meat separator’ . . . whoops. . !

No matter how sceptical you are about the combination you have to admit that whoever it was that opened the Pandora’s freezer box of possibilities has at least contributed to the sum of human culinary knowledge. I often wonder how, as a species, we ended up with such elaborate cooking rituals. Who was the first person to use extract of calf stomach to curdle milk to make cheese, cheese which is mouldy milk, milk the stuff that comes from cow’s tits.

When examined there are plenty of foods which are just weird, I’ll admit, this is one of them, but ninety 99p for a meal is good value and, at that price, the fact that it’s still repeating on me after an hour probably counts as a bonus.

Update: it has apparently now made my breath smell like Pedigree Chum.