It is well know scientists can be a tad obsessive about their subject (well OK, borderline autistic) but isn’t this pushing the evolution case a bit too far? Are primary school children ready for concepts like evolution and if not might its introduction at too young an age be counter productive? Darwin was 21 before he got into serious biology and it took him another twenty odd years before he got his head round the idea of evolution. And in his teens he was seriously into God. People can change so might it not be that teaching kids stuff in junior school will lead them to look at other ideas later?
And is there any point teaching something so complex to the unformed mind. We not most of the signatories of the evolution for infants petition are of the militant atheists. So why are they so keen to exploit the ideas of St. Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits. Give me the child to age seven and I will give you the man for life.” It might have worked in Iggy’s day when the Church controlled information but that was then, this is now and the internet is out there for everybody.
And what form will these lessons in evolutionary science take. Can you imagine asking your six year old “And what did you learn in school today?” and hearing the answer (in piping voice, “Well first teechur readed a story and that was nice, then we done some sums then we had playtime that’s my favourite lesson then we done some painting and crayoning and Charlie Boggis drawn a boat and then after dinner we done evolutionary science and that’s boring coz its about worms and frogs and teacher says dinosaurs never et cavemen and everyone knows they did coz they had big teeth…”
We Boggart Bloggers are all for evolution in fact the senior reporters have contributed to it but we still think pushing this kind of information at year three or four can only end in tears. Imagine how children so young will make sense of it.
“Now children, it’s time for our evolutionary science lesson. Last time we talked about how Chimpanzees and humans are descended from a common ancestor. It is very important to remember that. So Emma, where do chimpanzees come from?”
“Up a tree Miss.”
Johnny interrupts, “Mis, Miss, Miss…”
“Yes Johnny, what is it?”
“Dinosaurs eat Chimpanzees miss, I seen it in a cartoon.”
“No Johnny, dinosaurs do not eat chimpanzees, that is silly. Now Johnny as you seem to have a lot to say where do we humans come from?”
“He come from his house Miss, on the school bus this morning.”
“Thank you Emma, you all came from your houses this morning. Now Johnny, where do humans like you come from.”
“I come from my Mum’s front bottom Miss. I did coz I seen it on tele, this lady was on a bed with her feet in the air and she was swearing a lot bleeeep bleeep bleepettybleep and a baby head popped out of her front bottom.”
“Yes, very good Johnny but in evolutionary terms where do humans and Chimpanzees come from?”
“And the doctor said, “It’s a lovely little boy, and the lady’s partner said He ain’t mine you slapper he’s a ginge, there’s no ginger hair in my fambly or yours…”
“That’s enough Johnny. Anybody else, where do humans and chimpanzees start from? Yes Robbie?”
“My Dad said I got started in Benidorm Miss, I heered him telling Uncle Steve. But I never seen no chimpanzees in Benidorm when we was there last year.”
The militant atheist faction among the scientific community live in abject fear of creationism and that fear is responsible for prompting irrational and ill considered initiatives like this. My generation all had to sit through Religious Education in schools and we have made Britain the most irreligious nation in the world. In America laws governing separation of church and state forbid religious education in schools and the nation has become the hub of creationist thinking and Bible literalism. QED, leave things as they are and let children get into complex areas of science when they are ready.
Natural scepticism leads us to question and reject that which we are told is truth beyond questioning. Children are born sceptics. Ensure they are not indoctrinated and they will soon see fundamentalist religious thinking makes no sense at all. Start forcing fundamentalist science on them too soon and it will achieve the same end. I have always believed in evolution but it has never interested me much. I’m here because of it, but it was happening long, long before I was born and with a bit of luck will still be happening long, long after I am dead.
To be fair to some Americans I know, though they are members of creationist churches they will admit that maybe the Book of Genesis is a bit of an oversimplification but in the long run no matter what the origins of the Life, The Universe and Everything, it does not make a scrap of difference to our lives. We just have to muddle along through the chaos as best we can. How is the scientists irrational belief in logic, order and reason any crazier than the religionists belief in the divine?
When considering the views of scientists on education we should never forget science, like religion, can be learned by rote, only experience can impart wisdom.
]]>The post, which concerns the activities of the US Army Psychological Warfare Department (which The Pentagon claims does not exist but they would say that wouldn't they) and their efforts to exploit some crackpot hippie theories for military puroses. The post have moves to our archive now, find it under the title FORWARD PSYCHIC SOLDIERS.
More humour every day at Boggart Blog
]]>Asked by the interviewer how from their dominant position on the internet Google could avoid this Schmidt adopted a really bad Russian accent said, "So Mr Bond you zink vonce again you can thwart my plans to rule ze vorld..."
No he didn't, I made that up. What he really said was "In our case we see ourselves as a disruptor, and a disruptor because we are using new technology to solve real consumer problems, that in some cases people didn't even realize could be solved."
Solving consumers problems that the consumers don't even know they have maybe. Do we need Google to tell us what stuff we want to buy through their targeted adverts that rely on information gleaned from our eb searches? I think not. If most people find they need something they go down the shops and buy it. What we tend to buy on the inernet is stuff we never knew we needed until someone told us we needed it.
The advertizing industry exists by persuading us to buy stuff we don't need and Google are in the advertising business.
So how is gathering personal information about us in order to learn what kind of ads we are likely to respond to and then refusing to reveal what information they hold about individuals not creepy?
Well Mr. Schmidt?
On and what is the Corporate song? Don't tell me let me guess. Tomorrow Belongs To Me?
If you don't know the song from Cabaret or have forgotten the scene it features in, follow the link.
]]>The two man had a long running business dispute.
Ates's lawyers built their client's defence case on a "too fat to kill" arugment reminiscent of a Jerry Springer show guest who was unhappy that his claim for disability befefits on grounds of being "too fat to wipe" had been turned down. It was not so much Ates' 285 lb weight that his case hinged on but the fact that someone of his age and that heavy could not have made a quick getaway before police arrived to investigate the shots.
Ates had argued he did not have the energy to accurately shoot Duncsak from a perch on the staircase at Duncsak's home in August 2006.
It was a poor defence when we remember that the current World Heavyweight boxing champ weighs 300lb.
The prosecution presented forensic, computer and video evidence placing Ates at the scene of the crime and showed that his gun had beenn used in the murder. Witnesses also said the killer had "bounded up the stars" to Dunscak's apartment. His having driven from Florida to shoot his victim and them drove for 21 hours to his mothers home in Lousiana as well as bounding up the stairs threw sufficient doubt on his claims of immobility and lack of energy to allow the jury to reach a gulity verdict.
Assistant Prosecutor Wayne Mello termed Ates' defense "nonsense" and credited dogged work by investigators that built a circumstantial case around cell phone and credit card records, video evidence and forensics.
This case teaches the would be criminal a lot about how not to win a Boggart Blog stupid criminal of the week award. Use old fashioned coin operated public phones to call home, use cash rather than credit card for small purchases and lose some weight. Being fat does not excuse murder.
More humour every day at Boggart Blog
]]>But even as we turn our guns on the equally inept and uninspiring Tories, Labour are such masochists they cannot resist setting themselves up for another pummelling.
The latest example of Labour’s love of being headbutted and simultaneously kicked in the bollocks is a crazy new law that prevents cigarettes being displayed in shops. The logic here is typical of the irrational thinking of the Politically Correct Thought Police, they think that seeing cigarettes and tobacco products displayed encourages people to smoke or at last to think of smoking as a normal activity.
This is pretty rich coming from the people whose Nanny state ticks us off for describing man / woman action that does not involve whips, locks and chains, marmite or underwear with spikes sewn in it as “normal sex,” that wags a disapproving finger when we talk of “normal” people who have jobs, drink alcohol in moderation, shun all but the prescription variety of drugs and relax with activities that do not involve throwing themselves off buildings, swimming in raw sewage or tattooing themselves with a pin and a bottle of Quink. We cannot describe Gordon Brown as “a mentalist” or even suggest someone who wears their underpants outside their trousers is two prawns short of a cocktail. Instead we must celebrate diversity and respect people’s right to be different.
But woe betide you if you want to be different by having a quick smoke. Unless it is Cannabis of course. The Cannabis question is just too complex for their contorted moralising.
Otherwise Labour’s Politically Correct Thought Police would rather you swam in raw sewage than smoked in the privacy of your own home and just as the Puritans of old would cover the legs of their pianos lest those knobbly wooden stanchions made young men think of a Lady’s slender ankle and thus become inflamed with lust and rape the piano, so seeing a packet of B & H or a bag of Golden Virginia will fill lifelong non smokers with an insatiable craving for tobacco.
The people who make Labour policy then have little contact with reality. Certainly less than the Conservatives who at least are honest enough to admit they are only interested in looking after Number 1 (and getting the moat cleaned at the taxpayers expense, less even than the Liberal Democrats who are so deluded they still think they have a chance of winning next year’s election but at least don’t think seeing a packet of ciggies will make anyone into a smoker.
So non – smokers, does seeing a shelf full of ciggies in your local shop or supermarket make you want to take up the dreaded weed? It doesn’t inspire me to smoke but I’m not normal… or rather to be politically correct, I am normal but having brain damage makes my normal different to everybody else’s. The only message a display of tobacco gives out is: “This shop sells cigarettes, if you want to buy some we can be of service.”
Do the pumps outside a petrol station turn drivers into speed freaks and Clarkson worshipping petrol heads? Does a pie shop make people obese? Are these great seducers too much for our weak minds to cope with or can we in fact think for ourselves more competently than the Nanny State can ever think for us?
Now we get to what is really annoying about Labour and their Politically Correct attitudes. It is their belief we are all dribbling simpletons. Thus they make the facile leap of logic to believing that if cigarettes are out of sight and thus are kept out of mind everyone will stop smoking. It is impossible to quantify how wrong this is and in how many ways it is wrong. One thing comes to mind though that demolishes the whole argument.
The Fag Drag.
We are not talking about a motorcade for gay and transvestite drivers here. Now that supermarkets regularly run beer and spirits as loss leaders few people feel the need to do a booze cruise but the Fag Drag is becoming more popular. I don’t know if the term is generally used, it has probably been banned in other parts of the country by the Thought Police but here, and you can call us old fashioned if you like possums, a faggot is a meatball known for inducing euphonious farting and a fag is a small stick of tobacco wrapped in paper. So The Fag Drag means going to a place where taxes are lower and dragging a load of ciggies and rolling tobacco back. These can be sold on at a reasonable profit and a hatchback can carry enough to make the trip worthwhile.
My son and other acquaintances who frequent pubs more shady than those I go into nowadays guess at least half the tobacco sold in town has never seen the cigarette shelf of a local shop.
There is a passage in the Terry Pratchett novel Making Money which describes perfectly why government attempts to micromanage human existence are ultimately doomed due to the resourcefulness of human beings at evading any attempts to restrict their ability to think for themselves. Making money also explains the financial crisis perfectly and there are more laughs than in a dry, academic tome.
To be able to predict the outcome of Labour’s war on tobacco we only have to look at the prohibition era in the United States when the outlawing of alcohol made organised crime that nation’s biggest industry.
]]>We are not suggesting that diminutive actor Tom Cruise is in any way freaky of course, how could we possibly know whether or not he liked to dress as an alien, suspend his slender, attractive wife by her wrists from a hook in he ceiling and lash her with a wet noodle. This is a responsible news blog, not one of those vile celebrity scandal sheets. Neither would we disparage The Church Of Scientology by suggesting they are an evil, mind – bending cult. They hate people referring to them like that so we won’t, OK.
What struck us as most odd about Nicole Kidman’s interview with GQ was that it ran under the headline, “Kidman still not playing by the rules.”
How can a celebrity doing a sex-laden confessional interview with a glossy magazine when she has a new book, film or product to promote ever possibly be described as “not playing by the rules.”
I mean how?
]]>Fortunately we have the new Guido Fawkes, the not very anonymous blogger whose Order-order blog has put details a few very big scandals into the public domain. Nice the see Guido getting a big write up in The Guardian (Guido knows the power of gossip) yesterday, even though he does not demur from being described as an extreme right winger. Now that the mainstream press, Guardian included, have abandoned honest, objective journalism in favour of partisan drivel in support of certain agendas Guido is a shining beacon and an inspiration for all us bloggers.
]]>•$300,000 for a GPS-equipped helicopter to hunt for radioactive rabbit droppings at the Hanford nuclear reservation in Washington state.
•$30 million for a spring training baseball complex for the Arizona Diamondbacks and Colorado Rockies.
•$11 million for Microsoft to built a bridge connecting its two headquarter campuses in Redmond, Wash., which are separated by a highway.
•$430,000 to repair a bridge in Iowa County, Wis., that carries 10 or fewer cars per day.
•$800,000 for the John Murtha Airport in Johnstown, Pa., serving about 20 passengers per day, to built a backup runway.
•$219,000 for Syracuse University to study the sex lives of freshmen women.
•$2.3 million for the U.S. Forest Service to rear large numbers of arthropods, including the Asian longhorned beetle, the nun moth and the woolly adelgid.
•$3.4 million for a 13-foot tunnel for turtles and other wildlife attempting to cross U.S. 27 in Lake Jackson, Fla.
•$1.15 million to install a guardrail for a persistently dry lake bed in Guymon, Okla.
•$9.38 million to renovate a century-old train depot in Lancaster County, Pa., that has not been used for three decades.
•$2.5 million in stimulus checks sent to the deceased.
I can see the sense in the money sent to dead people (last item) given the boom in zombie movies this year there are a lot of jobs being created for zombies out there.
The roundup of radio active rabbits is more puzzling though. When the special helicopter locates them and the rabbit wranglers round them up what are the government going to do with them.
I know in WW2 the Germans had a plan to release exploding rabbits behind enemy lines but radio active ones would glow in the dark and give themselves away.
Perhaps the rabbits are linked to the grant to study the sex lives of female students at Syracuse University. Do you think the radioactivity might make the rabbits rampant?
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]]>In the early days of Boggart Blog we would feature this occasional series whenever we encountered a news story about a really stupid criminal. Somehow the idea was abandoned, perhaps because every intelligent criminal is unique in heir cleverness but all stupid criminals are stupid in the same way. That sort of thing tends to kill the joke. Or maybe it became necessary to have a higher education qualification to start a career in crime.
The first award in this fresh cycle goes to Laqad Yacoub (40) of Manchester who had been claiming disability benefits for several years citing back and leg problems as the reason he could not work.
The suspicions of Benefits Agency staff were aroused when somebody bearing the same name as and a very close physical resemblance to professional cripple Yacoub, whose severe disability benefit was awarded because he had difficulty walking even a short distance, was billed to appear in a music gig at Manchester Town Hall.
Investigators who attended the show discovered Yacoub had been moonlighting as a breakdancer for years.
More humour every day at Boggart Blog
]]>Having said that one cannot help feeling that by running to the sensationalist tabloids with his findings Prof. Nutt was playing the celebrity game and trying to get himself on tele before government ministers stymied the findings of his reasearch.
What next? A TV show called Britain's Got Science?
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I know we say this quite frequently but where would this blog be without those whacky folks who feed us material by doing pointless research. The latest finding, announced by the appropriately named Professor Nutt, shows that drugs like ecstasy and cannabis are no more dangerous than legal drugs like alcohol.
Now you may think we are unfair to Prof. Nutt as his research is very sensible but we think only someone who is totally bonkers in the head would risk his career by revealing that while a government of Labour control freaks is in power.
As a service to readers who may be confused by conflicting advice from Prof Nutt and the Governments advice that all things which might possibly put us at risk of enjoying ourselves are socially unacceptable, Boggart Blog has devised a survey to help you make up your own mind .
Look at each of these pairings of songs and decide which is more likely to make you want to throw yourself under a train (they are all real records BTW)
(1)
Eberneezer Good by the Shamen
Little Old Wine Drinker Me by Dean Martin
(2)
Tequila Sunrise by The Eagles
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles
(3)
Demon Alcohol by Ozzy Osbourne
Cocaine by Eric Clapton
(4)
Whiskey In The Jar by Thin Lizzie
Golden Brown by The Stranglers
(5)
Marijuana Cigarette by Cat Mother And The All Night Newsboys
Drink Up Thy Cider by Adge Cutler And The Wurzels
(6)
One Bourbon, one scotch, one beer by John Lee Hooker
Mr. Brownstone by Guns n Roses
(7)
Tequila by The Champs
The Needle And The Damage Done by Neil Young
(8)
Heroin by Velvet Underground
Margarita Time by Status Quo
(9)
Mother’s Little Helper by The Rolling Stones
Beer by Psychostick
(10)
Too Drunk To Fuck by The Dead Kennedys
Cold Turkey by John Lennon
Now tot up your answers. If it is mostly drug related songs that make you feel suicidal you are probably better off sticking to a couple of beers or glasses of wine or a few shots. If on the other hand the songs about drink make life seem no longer worth living you will probably be happier in the crack house than the pub.
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The bizarre death was the result of the young singer being attacked by a wily Coyote as she took a walk alone through woodland.
Eye witness reports say the creature killed Taylor by blowing her up with a stick of Acme dynamite while hunting a small bird.
BEEP BEEP.
More humour every day at Boggart Blog
]]>METHANE DAMAGES THE PLANET MORE THAN THOUGHT.
Well of course it does. I know some people have shit for brains but brains can't fart.
]]>So as this story is not going to concern hot celebrity head action what is it about? you might well ask.
We hear on the rumourmill that raunchyish chick lit writer Kathy Lette (50) was booked to give out polos at a horsey event, sorry, I mean give out prizes at a polo match.
Because certain young Royals were taking part feminist Ms Lette was given advice on what would constitute appropriate behaviour. Not much point giving an Australiam advice on good manners some less kind than us may be thinking, but there we go.
Sure enough, the Princling won man of the match or divot of the day (a divot is a posh clod BTW.) Surprise surprise.
As Prince William stepped up to receive the prize Lette, little Aussie minx that she is, said "I'm told I have to kiss you, d'you want the tongue?"
"Later maybe," the Prince shot back. Which proves he isn't writing his own scripts these days.
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And to make up for the disappointment of a sexy headline with a daft story and as it is almost halloween why not look in at our fiction site and enjoy some supernatural erotica, Season Of The Witch a story that has the alternate title Lesbian Witches Go Mad In Lancashire
R1CH.T
Must be an economist, he obviously didn't think that one through
]]>RELATED POSTS:
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Every time he comes on stage or television that head is going like a Rampant Rabbit, nodding, shaking, bouncing, rocking and annoying the crap ot of everyone.
He's either powered by duracell bateries or he has Parkinson's disease and a serous amphetamine habit.
More humour every day at Boggart Blog
]]>15 year old Daniel Walton was sent home from school because he refused to stand up when the Headmaster entered the classroom, and then he demonstrated his mastery of the profane when ordered out of the class.
Daniels father, unemployed Mr. Layabout Toerag supported his son's actions, telling Daniel that people needed to earn his respect.
But what would earn Messrs Toerags' respect?
Mr Harrison, the Headteacher, has obviously stayed on at school to complete his A Levels and then gone on to university to gain at the very least a Teaching degree. (Don't take offence to that you B.Eds, I'm using this as a quantity thing not quality.)
If he chose to study for a none education degree then he must have taken a further degree to qualify as a teacher.
He has then worked his way up from being the new kid in the staff room to being a head teacher, presumably of a successful school, well you wouldn't expect Mr. Layabout Toerag to send his son to anything less would you?
I should think that Mr. Harrison has never spent any time unemployed or claiming state benefits. We can rest assured that he can read and write and express himself clearly both verbally and in writing and I sincerely doubt that Toerag junior can do that, nor his father.
In all probability Mr. Harrison makes himself available to teachers, parents and children who would seek his advice and guidance.
He probably organises events for charity, as most schools do and could take the credit for raising money for good causes.
There are lots of other things about Mr. Harrison that we can't surmise just from the fact that he is a headteacher. Perhaps he has a Masters degree or a Ph.D., many of the Headteachers I know have taken further degrees over the years.
Perhaps he was an Oxford Blue, or maybe an Olympian.
He might be a gifted musician, he could have been a talented footballer, perhaps he is a keen mountaineer and has scaled all the major European peaks, or maybe just a willing walker who has bagged all the Monroes.
He could have run a marathon in the fastest time for his age group or dressed as Daffy Duck.
Perhaps he has completed a Channel swim or rode a roller coaster for 24 hours non stop.
He could be a published poet, a member of his local council, a Samaritan. He could take in stray dogs for the RSPCA or dole out food in a city centre soup kitchen or give up his weekends to be a special constable.
Maybe he is a good husband and respected parent.
The point is the man is obviously successful, whatever it may be he has achieved things in his life, which is probably more than you can say for Mr. Layabout Toerag.
Yet Mr. Layabout Toerag thinks Mr. Harrison still needs to do something to earn Junior Toerag's respect.
Well Mr. Harrison I should imagine this is the only thing that will earn the Toerags' respect.
Shave your head, get a tattoo of the Engerland flag above your left nipple.
Scratch LOVE and HATE on the knuckles of your hands and then ink it in with good old indelible Quink.
Leave your wife, go down the pub and get absolutely bladdered, then pick up a baseball bat and go round to see Mr. T and son and beat seven bells of shit out of them.
I'm sure Mr. Layabout Toerag will then think you are a right diamond geezer and Junior Toerag will grovel at your feet forever more.
]]>Well I suppose for those poor teachers unable to inspire their pupils even to anarchy it would be a good get-out.
"Miss Penrose, what is going on here? You are timetabled to be teaching tectonic plates and terminal morraine, not terminal boredom!"
"Ah, Headteacher, I took the opportunity to have an impromptu lesson in sleeping."
"Oh, very good Miss Penrose, using your initiative and seizing the moment, splendid, have you thought about applying for the vacant Deputy Headship?"
The power that is in this particular case feels that children need to be taught about the health benefits of sleeping.
But surely that is something that should be aimed at the parents.
On many occasions parents have come into school to say that little Jordan is a bit tired today because he was up until half past three at his Nana's. Little Jordan pokes his sleepy head out from behind Mum and appears to be Muskie from Deputy Dawg, so big are the shadows around his eyes. Indeed if you didn't know better you might mistake him for one of the living dead from a horror movie.
However little Jordan doesn't need to go to Nana's to stay up until half past three, as he has a computer gaming console and a plasma tv in his bedroom which he uses until approximately 2 am every morning while his Mum is out on the lash.
In the playground you will hear him reciting sketches from The Mighty Boosh or Max and Paddy or whatever else is on Satellite re-run comedy.
It all seems a far cry from the days when teachers tried to stop you going to sleep in class. Even day dreaming was a no-no.
There you'd be, Pride and Prejudice dutifully open in front of you, your eyes slightly glazed as the teacher selected random children to read a paragraph before passing the baton to the next child.
The drone of the lifeless voices was pleasantly soporific and the old eye lids would begin to close.
Then you'd become aware that the voice had stopped and silence reigned, to be eventually broken by some light sniggering.
Your eyes would open wide to the realisation that everyone in the class was looking at you. Realisation would dawn that it was now your turn and so you would hastily turn your attention to smoothing the open pages of the book and commencing
"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a for..."
It was at this point that several things happened simoultaneously. The whole class would erupt into laughter, your desk patner would start pointing to the page number you were meant to be on, you would realise that whilst you had been pleasantly drifting away the pages of the book had flipped back to the beginning, and the teacher would bellow that you needed to see her at break time to write out 500 times "I must pay more attention in class."
A more violent approach to the classtime snoozer was the well aimed piece of chalk, or for those who slept more soundly, the board duster. These cunning weapons could be deployed at a moment's notice, always being to hand in the old fashioned classroom. At the first gentle snore these improvised weapons of rude awakening could be deployed to devastating effect. Try doing that with an interactive whiteboard.
Peripatetic teachers might choose the ruler rapped on the desk, or better still the knuckles or the back of the neck, whilst the much mocked ear-tweak was a dead cert to wake the inert.
And for those that had just awoken from a sneaky forty winks there was always the proffered chalk and the invitation to step up and show us on the board how to do this particular equation, declension or conjugation. You may have thought you could get away with a quick snooze but back in the days when teachers notoriously had eyes in the back of their head nothing went unnoticed.
You were allowed to sleep in school though. When you first entered Infants. In that first year when every one else apart from your classmates were giants, when the walls were decorated with friezes featuring the letters of the alphabet and accompanying pictures of things that began with that letter but you could already read and write, when Friday afternoon was dressing up time and PE was performed in your vest and knickers, when school seemed like a confusing maze and you knew where to hang your coat by the picture over your coat peg, then you could sleep in school.
After lunch every day you trooped along to the hall, took one of the gym mats, which were probably two foot by three foot at best, placed them on the floor in neat rows and lay down to nap.
The teacher would walk quietly amongst you, shushing any giggling or otherwise inappropriate behaviour, trying to soothe you all to a refreshing slumber.
And then just as you had finally settled down and were drifting off she'd get out a bloody big bell and set about ringing it for all she was worth, scaring the livng daylights out of everyone.
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The civil disobedience will probably consist of the usual uncivil shanting, placard waving and stone throwing and the old bikes will be used to make "artworks" that will block roads and annot fossil fuel lobbyists by imprisoning them in their five star hotels while the conference is on. Perhaps the militant environMENTALISTS have not thought that one through as well as they might.
It is the trees that intrigue us though. The militant environmentalists want us to take "unwanted trees" to Copenhagen. Why? Is it a way of paying back the Danes for all those lovely SPAM they sent us?
(Cue song) Anybosy who has ever enjoyed a hearty meal of SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, egg, beans and SPAM woild approve of that.
It is not so however. The reason you should take your unwanted trees to Copenhagen is to protest against climate change. yeah well, um ... but? Take unwanted tress to Denmark to protest about climate change, what's all that about?
With airport security and travel safety being what it is these days I dread to think of the kerfuffle that would ensue if I turned up at the Airport with the thirty year old willow tree that blocks the midday sun from my garden in early and late summer. Anyone trying to get a 500 year old Oak Tree through the customs could start an international incident.
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I said I would not write about nasty Nick Griffin on Quesdtion time. I did not watch the show, I did not read the news coverage. And I have not blogged my thoughts on the topic. But when Ronseal Man Peter Hain opened his mouth to tell us all what we should and shouldn't think, that I had to blog aout - over at THE DAILY STIRRER - Sick Of Nick, Sicker Of Pete
Small nations refuse to kiss supreme leader's ring
and don't forget all the other Greenteeth Multi Media pages...
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The unnamed driver , determined that he would obey, obey, obey the diktat of his Sat Nav steered his six foot wide van off road onto a public bridleway and ploughed on a considerable distance down the lane even though it is clearly only wide enough for walkers, cyclists and horses. We wonder if he would have stopped had his van not become wedged under overhanging branches.
Follow this link to see pictures of the ASDA van lost in the woods and read the full story.
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Some people have accused me of being a closet Conservative because Boggart Blog does not lay into the Tories as hard as we do Labour. Now other bloggers might find being called a Tory offensive but Boggart Bloggers are thick skinned. A little insight into the satirist’s art might help though. While a party is in power they must, of necessity do lots of things, deal with problems, put forward policies and respond to events. This gives us lots to write about. The opposition on the other hand can just stay under cover and keep sniping occasionally. Thus the party of government will be the butt of most jokes. If anyone still thinks I’m a closet Tory just click on Thatcher in my tags. You will soon be set straight.
As an election looms however the opposition parties cannot simply sit back and watch government fail, they must try to look like a government in waiting. And so we are sharpening the knives and reaching for the scatterguns and grape shot for the Conservatives, Lib Dems and UKIP. It’s hard to get laughs out of the BNP and any attempt usually attracts comments saying we should not make them look funny and ridiculous but should rant about how evil they are. Ironically the Anti Nazi League are likely to win the BNP more votes than the party’s policies.
At the moment it is not just the BNP and their much hyped (thanks to the left wing protests) spot on Question Time that the “progressive left” champions of free speech and civil liberties are working themselves about but the boy David’s decision to let his party’s guys in the European Parliament sit with the Eurosceptics.
There is no real reason why the Conservatives should not sit with the right wing Eurosceptics and every reason why they should. They are after all Britain’s party of Euroscepticism.
Unfortunately a couple of these Euro-eurosceptics have been involved with some things the left do not find acceptable, extreme nationalist groups in small east European former Soviet nations for instance. One Latvian guy is on record as saying The Holocaust was really no big deal and The Jews would really have something to whine about if they had suffered under Hitler as much as Latvia had suffered under Russian oppression. No matter how much we disagree with him the man is as entitled to his opinion as any of us and the left should understand that Latvians, Lithuanians, Poles, Hungarians etc. might just conceivably have a different perspective on the events of 1939 – 45 to us in the western democracies.
That is the problem with all supra national social democracy projects, try to blend different cultures, religious denominations and ethnicities together and you are bound to end up with a mess. It’s like putting a ginger cake mix and a chocolate cake mix in the same mixer and making one cake. When the EU was smaller the Germanic/Latin/Celtic mix was fine. Now it’s a mess.
The politically correct left, increasingly unabashed about revealing their authoritarian tendencies tell us if only we would open our minds to new ideas we would understand how delicious chocolate ginger cake is so if we don’t start eating and saying yummy yum they will declare chocolate ginger cake denial a crime against humanity and send us all off to gulags.
Now conservatives don’t give a crap about me or anyone else who is not stinking rich. Which is OK by me as I don’t give a crap about them. The progressive left however are obsessed with trying to impose their world view on everybody and simply cannot comprehend why Latvians, Lithuanians and Hungarians are so keen on nationalistic ideas.
It is the flicking the V aspect of the Conservative decision I approve of, I would never support a Conservative candidate. For anyone strongly committed to an anti-Europe stance UKIP should be the part of choice. An assortment of mavericks, nutters, eccentrics, oddballs and cranks must always inspire more public trust than career politicians.
A final point, no matter how nasty and nationalistic the Tories new best Eurobuddies are the European Socialist Group to which Labour belongs contains many equally nasty characters who were members of communist regimes in their own nations during the Soviet era. On top of that the socialist group is dominated by predominantly Catholic Social Democrats. And the leader of the Catholic Church is Pope Benedict who was, was he not, a member of the Hitler Youth in his youth.
Is this leftwing outrage then just a case of the pot calling the kettle a utensil of colour?
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By the time Ian was procreating men were allowed into the delivery room and 10 years later when I got round to it myself it was absolutely de-riguer to have ones partner present not only at the birth but at all the shenanigans leading up to it, general info from the district nurses about what would happen over the ensuing seven months of pregnancy and on into the early years of the babies life, hospital appointments, scans, ante-natal classes, maternity-home visits, the whole shoot and shebang.
When we compared notes, my contempories and I, there were some hilarious stories about men turning green, mistaking the umbilical cord for the penis -never quite worked that one out myself unless there are some men wandering about whose penises comprise two tubes twisted around one another and covered in transluscent skin, god I couldn't touch pasta spirals with tomato sauce for years after the birth of BBC - throwing up, getting high on the gas and air and falling asleep in the corner as they got bored with the waitng and moaning, and thus missing the whole thing anyway.
Now, of course, there are vast herds of friends, relatives and probably passing drunks just looking for somewhere to spend a warm hour or so, all armed with their mobile phones to photograph or video the event and forward it to their totally uninterested friends, well if they were interested they'd be there wouldn't they? or post up on YouTube.
And I imagine that never in their wildest misgivings did those avant garde obstetricians of the sixties and seventies think that at some point in the future one of those imminent fathers would not be there, awestruck, holding his partner's hand and breathing with her, but caressing the midwofe's neck and telling her she was cute, before making a lunge for her breasts.
He was, of course, evicted from the delivery room and I should imagine it will be a long time before he is allowed back into the marital bed.
To the best of my knowledge no satisfactory reason has yet been given for this. We suspect though with all this kerfuffle about Nick Griffin on television, Latvian holocaust deniers being Dave Cameron’s new best mates and Gordon Brown calling for anyone who utters neo-fascist statements like “well, I don’t think Labour are doing a very good job actually to be interred in a new high tech oubliette, the proscription of Heimlich is because of fears that he might have once been a member of The Hitler Youth.
More humour everry day at Boggart Blog
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Well that story obviously made the news, but how much mileage was there in it really? Why didn't someone just tell him to say "A KitKat actually" and it all would have been over and done with.
But no, and so the press badgered until Downing Street eventually issud a statement saying Gordon liked any chocolate biscuit.
Well that's not the answer to the question is it?
When you're down and troubled and you need some love and care, and nothing, oh nothing is going right, well you may very well settle for any kind of biscuit but what would be the biscuit you wanted most?
The biscuit whose name you would call out and hope it would be there? (Sorry James Taylor, got a bit carried away there.)
That's your favourite biscuit isn't it, not anything with chocolate on it, for heaven's sake.
So it may be a Chocolate digestive, or it may be a Breakaway, nudge nudge, wink wink, know what I mean? It's highly doubtful it would be a Tesco basic chocolate finger is it?
So who devised that non-answer in the first place?
Maybe it was Colin Montgomery, wanting to keep all the KitKats for himself, but even though he is a fellow Scot I don't think he is a Government adviser.
There again could be the Sport, Leisure and Chocolate Biscuit Czar for all I know, so many people appointed to spurious posts in this government, it's hard to keep track.
But back to the point, some bright spark came up with 'any chocolate biscuit'.
Now even if it was not known at No. 10 what Gordon's favourite biscuit was, no HobNob crumbs on the sofa, no raisins escaped from whatever those biscuits are that have raisins in them, something beginning with A?, no ginger nut sludge in the bottom of the coffee cup, surely someone could have come up with something, an Abbey Crunch, Custard Cream, Bourneville, Party Ring for heaven's sake.
Or better still they could have asked Sarah. Even if Gordy is so wrapped up in doing his job, and realising his vision for the future, whatever that may be, surely Sarah would know which biscuit was the one that got eaten first, allegedly the KitKat, from the selection and which one she needn't even bother putting on his plate. After all, he is her hero and hero-worship should really include knowing all the trivia around the object of one's affections.
But no, they put out this pathetic statement, that doesn't really answer the question and invites yet more ridicule.
And then yesterday, when it really should have been over and done with I read somewhere that Mumsnet have received a couple of packets of chocolate chip cookies from No.10.
So apart from re-igniting the furore, what does that tell us?
Gordon's favourite biscuit is a choclate chip cookie?
So it's not so much any chocolate biscuit as any biscuit vaguely associated with chocolate in any shape or form.
So once again, by their actions, whoever advised Gordon that this would be a good idea has undermined his position. How can you trust a man to run the country when he can't even decide what kind of biscuit he likes best appears to be the message they want to send out.
Beware Gordon, your enemies are everywhere and personally I'd be wary of flunkies bearing biscuits if I were you. Might even be time to employ a Biscuit Tasting Czar, know what I mean, nudge, nudge.
Just in case you're wondering mine's a ginger nut dunked in a good cup of coffee, with that "man you know you got a friend."
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Since the spring the screaming red tops have carried an incessant stream of front page stories concerning Katie's lurid private life, even managing to make the front page the day Wacko Jacko's death was reported.
She has been photographed flashing her tits at the photographers; lying all but naked on her back with an oiled cage fighter in between her legs; pissed as a fart on her hotel balcony, in various nightclubs, on the beach and in a jacuzzi.
She has left her husband and then released an alternate cascade of invective and declarations of her love for him.
From what I can gather she has effectively abandoned her children to her ex's care whilst she has had a rollicking good time slappin' around the Med. (But I could be wrong this is only the impression I picked up from brief glances at the frontpages, could be she has stayed chastely at home, crying herself to sleep everynight as she sits curled on her sofa in her wincy pyjamas, a cup of horlicks to hand and the baby alarm by her side so she can dash to comfort her poor deserted children at the merest sign of unrest.)
Celebrity Mum of the year?
Should be a shoo-in.
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