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caldrail

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Blog Entries posted by caldrail

  1. caldrail

    Don't Smell the Flowers

    By caldrail,

    The weather has been great these last two days. Clear skies and balmy sunshine. Not bad for February in England where benign climates are something you spend hundreds of pounds to escape to every summer holiday. Nature is having a sunbathe too, trees are and flowers looking very much like they should in spring. Woodpeckers have colonised one of local parks, making it sound like a construction site as they burrow into trees. Squirrels and rabbits at large, doing squirrelly and rabbity things (surely you don't need that explained?)
     
    But is this good? Apparently not, for the countless tv interviews with experts and initiatives (not to mention new taxes, plus some heavier older ones) from politicians, its clear that the blossoming flowers are in fact a harbinger of doom, a warning of apocalyptic disasters of biblical proportions to come.
     
    Don't smell the flowers
    They're an evil drug
    To make you lose your mind
    Don't Talk To Strangers - Ronnie James Dio
     
    Its all about global warming and its domination of politics today. As if the politicians have any real idea about what to do, they're just listening to every screwball with charts and zealous belief that the world is about to end. Not that they actually understand what the guy has said, its justification for more tax. So if the local florist is doing well, you know the end is nigh.
     
    Farce of the Week
    "Send all parcels by Speedy Logistics" says AD, who claims its cheaper. "Send all parcels by Slick Parcels" say Head Office, because they claim its cheaper. "No, we're cheaper" say Supersonic Transport. "No they're not" say Speedy Logistics, because they deliver economy. "No they don't" say Head Office, who insist on Slick Parcels, who in turn insist on doing things their way and now Supersonic Transport are turning up for Slick's collections... Our tame forklifter is looking very bemused and a little browbeaten by van drivers.
  2. caldrail

    A Bitter Pill

    By caldrail,

    Bad colds or flu can be nasty. It creeps up on you and hits you like a brick wrapped in tinfoil. Coughing, sweating, dizzy, limbs aching, totally unable to sleep. We've all been there so I guess you know what I mean.
     
    Isn't it strange that medicinal products function in direct proportion to their taste? The palatable ones don't do anything for you at all. But those ghastly horrible noxious products that make you sweat with anticipation of its vile taste work like a charm. We have a product in Britain - I don't know what the rest of the world call it - but its advertised as a miracle cure for colds and flu. Of course is isn't, it just makes you feel better for a few hours, but I'm definitely feeling a lot more like your average Caldrail. Now.... Is that because the stuff really is a miracle cure, or is it because I can't bear the thought of another dose?
     
    However, there are some substances you shouldn't really touch. I'm not into drugs. Never was. Never saw the point. If you need a pill to enjoy yourself then you're not doing so. There was one instance in my past though when I encountered such things.
     
    I don't mean the offer of cannabis from some lowlife in a club. Its inevitable that having been involved in rock bands I was going to encounter it. Funny thing is, I was very rarely offered any. Maybe I looked spaced out already so they never bothered?
     
    No. Something more insidious happened. So lets explain the background.
     
    I used to work for a large retail chain, and my responsibilities were to manage the database overnight and download the picking data for the next day onto the scanning guns. It was a lonely sort of job that. The only human contact I had was a cleaner who popped in every two or three days to scatter my papers over the floor, and the good lady who worked in the office along the way. She was a tolerant sort luckily. Not so the workforce. Comprised of the usual layabouts and ner'do'wells, I'd become somewhat unpopular with them because I'd had some of their mates hauled across the coals for misdemeanours. It wasn't pleasant, and to this day I don't think the company really appreciated what a miserable place that was to work.
     
    This wasn't the first time I'd been feeling a bit odd. I'd been phoning and emailing radio stations, getting hyperactive and stressed out, going on long drives around the west country for no apparent reason. Then there was that final night. It wasn't like feeling drunk, I just felt oddly chirpy. Feeling fed up with any grievances I'd had at work, I decided to do something about it. I scrawled 'Goodbye and thanks for all the fish' on the board, and text'd somebody on my mobile that I was on my way. Don't know who it was, but I knew they'd understand. Somebody was cheering me on. From that point forward I was utterly convinced I was on some sort of quest to reach France. I was also convinced I was supposed to take people along and that they'd arranged to meet me in town. So I wandered around for an hour feeling a little disappointed at a no-show. Well, I can't wait, must reach France. So I drove out to the motorway to go east. Then it occured to me the police would be waiting to catch me. So... I'll go by the country road. That'll fox 'em... Huh? Was that a red light?... Wow, this is getting seriously foggy... Hey wait, I was supposed to pick someone up... Turn around.... Must get there quickly to pick them up... Awww I can't be doing with this, I'm going down the motorway...
     
    Eventually my car ground to a halt with some sort of breakdown, lights flashing on the dashboard all over the place... This was a freezing cold november morning and I phoned for recovery. I think the police telephonist got the gist of what I was rambling on about. The return to Rushey Platt was a sobering experience. I froze for an hour waiting for a tow. I froze for another two hours at railway station carpark waiting for a tow back in the right direction.
     
    I lost the job. You might not be entirely suprised at that. So I suppose the idiot who spiked my drinks at work with whatever substance that was felt pleased with his handiwork. It was a miracle I wasn't picked up for driving under the influence - I daresay that would have pleased him more. How would he have felt if I'd crashed? Killed? Disabled? Or would he have been satisified with death and injury on the roads if an innocent person or two had been unlucky enough?
  3. caldrail

    Robinson Caldrail

    By caldrail,

    A somewhat battered and bruised Robinson Caldrail crawls slowly up the beach of Washout Island, surrounded by the detritus that shipwrecks usually leave riding the surf. Alone and castaway, this is not the first time I've been marooned on this particular island. Right now I'm too devastated by what happened at the height of the storm. Captain AD, determined to brave the foul weather aboard his unseaworthy vessel, ordered me thrown over the side to stay afloat. I wasn't suprised. I'd considered abandoning ship already but the Admiralty at Head Office had asked me to man the pump for now.
     
    What will happen to the SS Portapalace without my navigation and rigging skills? Who can say? The ship is out there somewhere, heaving in gales and heavy seas. Will it sail toward safe anchorage in the Lands of Success or a watery grave in Davey Jones Receivership?
     
    Come the morning, I shall search whatever has survived the storm and found itself discarded on this beach along with me. The old cave will be there of course, and hopefully the sources of food and water remain constant if none too plentiful. Its not all temperate paradise however. The natives are far from friendly... But once my castaway lifestyle is in order, I shall ready myself to flag down a passing ship to rescue me from this lonely exile.
     
    Just one thing though. Not keen on the Man Friday thing, ok?
     
    Translation of the Week
    Yep - I've been made redundant - again.
  4. caldrail

    Casting Votes

    By caldrail,

    The news is full of our local elections. It seems the media has smelled blood, and have joyfully reported the embarrasement of our prime minister. The headlines are coming thick and fast as Labour returns its worst result for forty years. Gordon Brown of course says his party needs to listen and then they can move forward. Listen by all means GB, but people are starting to vote with their... erm... vote.
     
    In Zimbabwe Mugabe has lost the vote, but not the war. After twenty eight years in power, he retained enough votes to call for a rerun of the election. And I suspect he'll keep on until everyone votes him back in whether they have a gun pointed at them or not.
     
    Thankfully, Ken Livingstone is not so determined to continue as Lord Mayor of London and it seems Boris Johnson, the colourful character for whom no public cock-up is too embarrasing, will walk away with the title. Its about time. At least BJ knows he's a comedian.
     
    Traffic Diversion Of the Week
    On saturday night traffic on the M4 motorway (the main highway west from London to Wales) will be diverted through Swindon town center. Well... I know the local authorities want more visitors to our fair town, but doesn't diverting traffic seem a bit desperate? So tonight Swindon town center will be full of irate and confused drivers trying to negotiate our road junctions in a vain bid to find the right exit back to the motorway. At least the Man Who Headbutts Cars will be busy....
     
    Celebrity Update of the Week
    Melinda Messenger, our very own local blonde bombshell, is to split with hubby Wayne Roberts. Wow. Where else can you get news like this, hard hitting stories about people that matter?... Huh?... What do you mean you've never heard of her?.... She's a celebrity for crying out loud, and for those who genuinely want to show sympathy for her, her entire range of paper towels is now available by mail order...
  5. caldrail

    Pans Labyrinth

    By caldrail,

    There's a recent spanish film caled Pans Labyrinth. For those who haven't seen it, its about a young girl in spain in 1944, at the end of the civil war, struggling to cope with reality and immersing herself in fantasy. At the end of the film, its impossible to know whether she was deluded or really the princess in exile. Its a film that doesn't baulk at showing violence and human nastiness, and one with some haunting visuals. The quality of the film is excellent.
     
    You know, I sometimes wonder if there's a little of the Pans Labyrinth in each of us. We all interpret the world around us, and some have what seems to me some very strange perceptions of how the world is.
     
    One for instance is that as I'm an unemployed person then I must be wothless and useless. I gave my CV (resume) to one company, listing all the achievemnets and higher profile jobs I've undertaken in the last five years, showing a consistent level of competence and responsibility.
     
    So I get a phone call from that one company asking me if I'd like to consider a part-time job labouring in unsocial hours.
     
    Have I imagined the last five years?
     
    Veteran Car of the Week
    Goes to an Alvis convertible sports car of fifties vintage. Good condition, still used as someones daily drive, and looking fantastic in maroon paint with that well-used patina. I'm sure the reality of driving a car like that would be a nightmare, so whoever owns it must regard it as a labour of love. But its great to see an old girl still going strong!
  6. caldrail
    The weather has taken a turn for the worse and its temporarily goodbye to long hot spring days. Yep. British weather has reasserted itself and its raining. Just in time for the traditional downpour on a Bank Holiday Weekend.
     
    Dream of the Week
    Nearly decided that getting a job was the front runner for that prize, but no, it was last nights dream about tornado's. Don't remember the details, but someone pointed out the window and there they were, four or five funnels under a thick black cloud, one heading our way. Of course we hid and I have to say, for a dream about a weather phenomenon I've never experienced, the special effects were pretty impressive. Luckily the building withstood the tornado as it passed over and I was spared a visit to Oz.
     
    TV Comedy of the Week
    Has to go to The Mighty Boosh. I'd not seen it before but came across a repeat on freeview tv. For those that don't know, its a surreal comedy about a young mystic and his pet familar, a talking gorilla, and the two local musicians he rents rooms to. Its bizzarre stuff but genuinely amusing at times, and I hate to say it, very observant of life in Britain. Might be a bit challenging for non-brits though. The gauntlet has been thrown down...
  7. caldrail
    Its the turn of the french to hold the presidency of the EU right now. What are they suggesting? They want each member state to stump up 10,000 men, plus tanks, planes, and ships, for a european defence force. This is interesting because a european defence force was part of the Treaty of Lisbon, which the french people didn't want, nor did the dutch, and neither - somewhat more pointedly - did the irish. But it seems we're going to get a Treaty of Lisbon even if we didn't want one at all - Which is what I said would happen.
     
    Unfortunately, the british are close to being overextended on security issues already, so where are the extra 10,000 men to come from? We used to have National Service in this country, and with rising violence there are calls for a return to just that. Its ironic that in order to solve knife crime we're going to give them bayonets.
     
    But who foots the bills? The government is up their eyeballs in debt already, taxes are the highest they've been since the invention of money, and our armed services are seriously underequipped. One solution is obvious, and in some ways, an unpalatable choice, because I'm sure the europeans would far rather get their hands on our highly professional force than a crowd of bolshy youths with a typically british bad attitude. They suffer that every summer already.
     
    Imagine all those braggarts currently wandering around drunk proclaiming their manhood and denigrating other peoples, suddenly having to prove themselves for real, especially since the french have been using foreigners as expendable troops since 1831. The chances are that Europe will eventually get our professional troops, leaving Britains defence in the hands of 'hoodies'. I wonder if the government are as confident about european unity than they were when Ireland said No?
     
    Power To The People
    Gordon Brown has set 'no limits' to nuclear power in Britain. The plan is to expand current sites to avoid contentious siting issues. Welcome to Englands Green and Luminescent Land. Thats if you can see it under all those wind turbines.
     
    Cancellation of the Week
    Wiithout a doubt, the biggest cancellation is due to the British July Monsoon Period and that means the Royal International Air Tattoo at Fairford, just down the road from Rushey Platt. For the first time in 38 years the the event has been washed out. The roads around Fairford are notorious for traffic jams during this normally well-attended event and perhaps this is the reason why Swindon was deserted this weekend, as the police deal with the chaos of turning visitors around. Or is it because someones decided to recruit 10,000 extra troops from Swindon layabouts? That would cancel a weekend or two...
  8. caldrail
    Noisy pensioners...
     
    Noisy youths...
     
    Noisy kids...
     
    Could it get any worse? Well yes, actually. Now we have noisy strikers. Council workers are on strike for two days to get bigger pay rises than oil tanker drivers, and so the libraries are shut. They're all lined up outside council premises with printed placards (I wonder how much that cost?) declaring their strike action and calling for public support. They haven't got mine at all.
     
    So its off to the local internet cafe and spend a few quid. The cheapest is a place out in one of Swindons immigrant areas, so the moslem chants and sermons are played out loud. I guess its because its not my culture and not something I'm used to, but that wailing (the sort you get from minarets in foreign countries) is so irritating.
     
    There's a older woman who's just come in. She pushes and thumps things down with all the grace of an inebriated elephant. She's not satisfied with the position of the computor screen, and so attempts to rip it off its mountings. Three times. Take it easy girl...
     
    talking about taking it easy, the proprietor is having an argument with an african girl. Its quite a ding-dong, the pair of them pointing, gesturing, and spitting out random syllables at frantic speed. I'd like to give you a blow by blow account but I haven't a clue what its all about.... Neither does she apparently...
     
    Speed Camera News of the Week
    Swindon Council is considering withdrawing from the Wiltshire Speed Camera Partnership. Why? Because they object to fines going to the Treasury as profit. At last! Somebody with enough commonsense to see the whole thing was a rip-off by a government so deep in debt they tax anything that moves.
  9. caldrail
    I'm watching the news this morning and one of the featured stories is about knife crime. One more young man of 19 has been stabbed to death in London recently. The family have organised a protest march to demand action from politicians. The brother of the latest victim is interviewed in the studio. Now I've no doubt whatsoever that this family have suffered a grievous loss, yet there was something artificial about that interview. It's hard to put your finger on it. The modern media are very slick - this particular channel has won an award for news reporting - but the answers the brother gave was somehow a little too obvious.
     
    Naturally he called for harsher sentencing. Thats an instinctive feeling from those who have lost loved ones so I do understand and sympathise. Thing is, the young man claims that these harsher sentences will make knife-wielders think twice, that it would provide a deterrent to such behaviour if thugs realise they will be punished for using knifes in this way.
     
    He's wrong. They won't. The deterrent only works if the thug thinks about the consequences of his actions. Thugs are not known for thinking, and young men commit these stabbings in the heat of the moment or because they believe they won't get caught regardless of the potential punishment. Realising that their peers are armed they seek protection. Since the 'herd' is helpless against a sharp blade they begin to carry knives too. Therefore the real definition of superiority amongst them becomes the willingness to use them instead of just threatening to. Knife culture is the bare bones of a 'warrior' culture in our midst and is therefore based on personal bravado. These people seek self-respect, a sense of self-worth, from the carrying of weapons and the willingness to use them. Further, they want the dread and fear that most people naturally feel if confronted. Young men are naturally competitive. It's part of our animal behviour in that young males jostle for dominance, to settle disputes, for mating rights, all sorts of instinctive reasons. It's the feeling that 'I'm dangerous now everyone respects me' that needs to be addressed. With every generation you need to recreate civilisation. Without that it becomes a primeval jungle in our own back yard.
     
    Inevitably film and tv will carry some blame with copy-cat behaviour cited as a cause for the killings. That isn't quite correct. Young people adopt the manners and actions of the screen in the absence of real examples. Without a firm constructive social background young men will turn to their own instincts and make connections from their own primal instincts to the portrayal of heroic violence that would otherwise merely entertain.
     
    So what solution is there? There needs to be a path for these young men to find self-worth in a more positive way, to work off their competitive instincts without resorting to uncontrolled violence. We also need to convince these young men that carrying knives is not a symbol of manhood. Street credibility needs to be exchanged for social responsibility. I wonder if the protest march is going to aim for that, or is it a veiled demand for revenge? A desire for justice? The government have already stated that action on knife-crime will be taken. Which path will they take? Is there a real desire by our politicans to solve these issues or will they adopt a short-term initiative to survive the bad press? The labour government came to power announcing they were going to tackle the root issues of crime. Ok, here's your chance.
     
    Embarrasement of the Week
    Our new border control agency has been set up to prevent illegal immigration and has issued dire warnings to employers that hiring such people will incur heavy penalties. Suprise, suprise, the border agency have discovered that they employed an ilegal immigrant as a cleaner. Whoops. Flog yourselves gentlemen. Nice and hard. No slacking at the back.
  10. caldrail

    Apologies for Autumn

    By caldrail,

    Autumn is here all of a sudden. The weathergirl apologised last night and told us so. Very nice of her, but to be honest I was expecting it. The air is a little colder than a few weeks ago, the leaves a bit yellow, a and sure enough, its starting to get windy.
     
    Not quite as windy as the hurricanes that hit Taiwan recently, nor those of any other areas such as southeast america, but I remember a time when we didn't get this high winds as a matter of course every year.
     
    I suppose I could blame global warming, but then, if trees are still shedding leaves in autumn its a sign we're still going to get cold in winter. Which means I shall have to pay my heating bill. It arrives with a thud on the floor and its very polite, telling us how sorry they are for charging me two or three times as much as before, and that they're always willing to listen to customers who get into debt.
     
    That makes me feel so much better.
     
    Inspection of the Week
    Goes to a surveyors office who want to inspect my flat for 'energy efficiency'. They apologised to me for the inconvenience over the phone but could they break down the door in the next five minutes please? Somehow, I think this government initiative is taking the mick just a little, since its fairly obvious they want the data to establish another tax.
     
    I wonder how energy efficient an unemployed person can be?
  11. caldrail

    Boo The Black Hats

    By caldrail,

    I saw a mention earlier that there's been a call to ban 'cartoon' villains.
     
    Pardon? Which idiot thought that one up? No doubt they're concerned that our little offspring will be irrevocably harmed by exposure to images of bad guys and grow up as adult Dick Dastardly's.
     
    Children are not blank slates. However primitive and limited their experience of the world might be, they are born with a character of their own. Nature does this as a survival strategy. By including a diverse set of primal behaviour instincts, then a portion of the human herd will thrive in whatever enviroment they find themselves. So if killing, stealing, or helping old ladies across the road works best, then those instincts allow the herd to cope with policemen, irate householders, and modern traffic. Of course it also allows you to exploit any enviroment effectively and is one of the primary influences of evolution.
     
    So why are cartoon villains so bad for us? They were after all dreamt up by adult humans, and are intended as a parody of real baddies in order to laugh at their inept villainy and enjoy their miserable or painful fate. many cartoons actually have a moralistic underlay, despite the penchant for extraordinary violence. So is it the violence thats wrong? I used to enjoy thiose Roadrunner and Tom & Jerry cartoons in my younger days. You never see those any more do you? Well, strangely enough, I haven't grown up to be a violent villain who regularly receives explosives in the post courtesy of Acme Inc.
     
    The problem then lies not with cartoons or the imagery they present, but our own guidance of our children and the failure of society to instill moral behaviour in our young.
     
    My belongings are vibrating and bouncing to the throb of the stereo downstairs, so if you'll excuse me, I'll just go down there and knock his block off. You may laugh and say the cartoons did affect me. I would argue I'm simply angry and following my aggressive instinct is nothing more than everyday human behaviour.
     
    Or should we ban the evening news too, for fear that a terrorist will shown to our kids?
     
    Question of the Week
    Well the surveyor visited my home to decide how energy efficient it is. He asked me whether it gets cold. I looked at him straight and answered that it did, every winter, regularly as clockwork.
     
    I don't think he understood the joke.
  12. caldrail

    Banging On About Metal

    By caldrail,

    Warning! Heavy metal music is bad for you!
     

     
    I've heard this all before. I can't remember how many times I've been warned about volume. There was a time when.. (Warning - Imminent Reminiscence).... I was at a practice in a garage rock band when a council official turned up to measure the sound after complaints about us. He asked us to play (that was our first gig man!) and with alarm told us we were too loud. A bit predictable, but then he said our volime was the same as Concorde taking off. I pointed out we'd been practising for six months already and therefore shouldn't be able to hear his advice to quieten down. Actually, we weren't that loud, but in later years Red Jasper were unable to book gigs in Bristol because we were too loud and awful.
     
    So it isn't volume thats dangerous. According to the news item I got the pic from, its headbanging that makes you prone to neck and brain injury. Well I've never been much into that particular dance mode, so obviously I'm not prone to injury (apart from bruised and blistered fingers from a hard gig behind the drum kit - those were the days) and if I were honest, I really don't remember many people headbanging at our gigs either, so obviously metal music is not to blame for hospital traction.
     
    Whats left? Oh yes.... the insidious spread of satanism and reversed messages on LP's. I mean, did anyone actually take that seriously? Its like a boys club where you make strange gestures to be part of the crowd, rather than any belief that Ozzy is the Prince of Darkness (now contested on World of Warcraft adverts) and that wearing black leather makes you a devel worshipper. Its a rebellion thing. We only do it to upset our christian elders and no-one really believes it.
     
    So in what way is Heavy Metal music dangerous? It isn't. I would argue that nightclubs and their moronic metronomes harbouring a culture of drug taking is visibly worse for your health. After all, metal fans go a gig to enjoy their music. Nightclubbers need pills to enjoy theirs.
     
    CD of the Week
    I picked up a live recording of Ronnie James Dio on his Holy Diver tour. Good stuff. I remember what an impact the original album made in the eighties. Fresh, energetic, and a thoroughly good listen. I'm going to have to stop, it's not good for me you know....
  13. caldrail

    Cold Start

    By caldrail,

    Way back when I was working in warehousing I often used to see people spending time in the toilets, usually sat in their cubicles smoking or reading newspapers behind closed doors, at least when they weren't pulling the toilet apart with their bare hands for something to do. It's something of a british tradition and one I used to sneer at.
     
    Problem is, things are a little chilly in England right now. We've had sub-zero temperatures for a week now and last night it tried to snow. Some people may chuckle, but the England grinds to a halt whenever it snows, we really have no idea how to cope with the stuff.
     
    It sems my neighbours decided to go elsewhere for their new year too, which means they switched off their heating. If that wasn't bad enough the radiator in my living room has decided not to work anymore.... So... Cold...
     
    The irony is that my bathroom, ordinarily the coldest and draughtiest place in the house, now happens to be the warmest. It's been a while but I've rediscovered the joys of the 'workplace university'.
     
    It Gets Worse Still
    New Years day began for me at something like eleven o'clock in the morning. Bleary eyed I stirred under my multiple duvets and grimaced at the thought of the chill atmosphere. Still, I must endure, so I relunctantly fell out of bed and reached for the light. It didn't work.
     
    The electricity was off. And of course, since my gas boiler is electrically fired, so was the heating..... Even.... Colder....
     
    Naturally I phoned the electricity company and explained my plight. The lady on the other end of the phone was very polite and in the course of diagnosing my problem asked me if the neighbours had similar problems.
     
    I don't know, I've just gotten out of bed.
     
    "Oh?" She chuckled, "I wish I could stay in bed".
     
    Funny enough, I was thinking the same.
     
  14. caldrail
    Yesterday I made my way into town and to do so, I need to cross a busy road junction. There's a pedestrian crossing there so it isn't an onerous task.
     
    I approach the traffic light and looking to my right (We brits very sensibly drive on the left) a car was slowing down to turn left into the College car park just before the crossing. The van behind had nowhere to go. So taking the opportunity I strode across the road, with the traffic lights changing from red to flashing amber (Thats 'You can proceed if the crossing is clear')
     
    I heard a loud yell behind me. I think the unintelligible bellow said something like "Get out of the way!" seeing as the van swerved behind me and shot off down the road almost mounting the pavement in its eagerness to get past. Without doubt, it was a dubious manoever. Even if he had a clear signal, it was a pedestrian crossing and he had no legal right to force me out of the way.
     
    It was a close call. I was nearly an ex-Caldrail. If the man behind the wheel keeps on behaving like that, he'll be an ex-driver before long.
     
    Investment of the Week
    Goes to North Korea, whose starving population must be filled with joy at the prospect of seeing their nation launch a missile with a 4,200 mile range. Thats going to make their lives better isn't it?
  15. caldrail
    Somewhere, out there, in the wilderness of the Swindon job market, is an El Dorado of a career just waiting for me. The Lost Warehouse. I'm still searching the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire for it, machete in hand, coiled whip hanging from my belt. Occaisionally though I come across strange tribes and alien cultures in this urban jungle, and the following job description has come to me attention...
     
    Large Utility Company looking for a Technical Architect with a strong background in Data Warehousing and Business Intelligence. Responsibilities will include - Application Landscape definition and maintenance. Application Roadmaps (for sustainability and strategic direction). Product evaluation and selection. Assurance of projects and programmes against the Architecture and any appropriate Patterns or Solutions. Providing recommendations based on evaluation at various levels of the organisation up to Board level The Technical Architect will be required to resolve or oversee the resolution of very highly complex, high business impact, technological, commercial and social problems. Identify the business impact of architecture implementation including the anticipated business benefits and costs and the risks and consequences of failure. Take account of the organisations business plans and IS Strategy and Policy in developing and implementing Standards and Patterns to ensure compliance. Identify Infrastructure and Security Implications in projects. Pursue up-to-date knowledge of business relevant emerging technology trends and developments in the areas of Application Architecture, through direct supplier contacts and attendance at conferences and seminars as well as reading relevant research and get involved in the investigation of specific technologies, products, methods and techniques as required to assess their potential benefit to the business and their role in the evolution of the IS Applications Strategy Experience needed The Technical Architect will need extensive experience of Data Warehouse and Business Intelligence. Experience of Applications, Connectivity, and Data Architecture across a broad range of platforms and products. Experience of development methodologies and large programmes or portfolios of development initiatives.
     
    Can you imagine the boss of a company like that?
     
    "Ahh, Mr Caldrail, finally made it work this morning? What was it this time, the rope bridge over the river went down?"
     
    No no. I have implemented amorphous time selection in the work place with a view to targeted arrivals and business sensitive initiation of labour assignments, with constructive initiation and resolution of working patterns that take adavantage of working time regulations and company policy that comply with management forecasts, leading to succesful resolution of current strategies and production schedules.
     
    "I'm wet."
     
    Doctor of the Week
    Doctors have been getting into the papers recently. There was one guy who said the risk of falling off a horse was worse than dying in a car accident. He got pilloried for that wisdom of course, but now there's another attention seeking doctor who says that there should be a chocolate tax to dissuade us from expanding our waistlines.
     
    Oh great. Now apologies to women are going to cost more. Sheesh.
  16. caldrail

    Market Demand

    By caldrail,

    The doorbell rang last night. Wow, thats a forgotten pleasure. Most people announce their presence by shouting in the street. So I drop my dry sandwich and rush downstairs in a fit of uncool eagerness.
     
    A hopeful adolescent stood in the hallway, looking a bit uncertain at my raffish squalor.
     
    "Is that your Mazda out back?" He asked. Oh no... Don't tell me it's been vandalised again....
     
    Yes it is, I responded.
     
    "You thinking of selling it?" He enquired nervously. I stared for a second with raised eyebrows. Full marks for chutzpah, but a hot sportscar (albeit a castrated one) at his age? I realise how much he'll suffer. Putting the car back together will cost him far more than he realises, the car is far more demanding to drive than he realises, and the police will be demanding him to stop every five yards.
     
    No, I answered with considerable finality. He left, disconsolate, his dreams of impressing his mates and pulling the girls broken. Poor lad. Never mind, he'll find a cheap hatchback somewhere and find his freedom. Just like I did at his age.
     
    Sandwich of the Week
    Returning upstairs, I grit my teeth to consume the dry sandwich. Bread isn't too expensive I suppose, but so often it's been stored in freezers before sale and it dries out when thawed. Worse still is the cheese. The packaged slices I used to buy have doubled in price since the recent supermarket inflation, so I've no choice but buy these new 'singles' packs. At 50p for ten, you can't argue.
     
    Or so I thought. When you finally extricate them from their clever cancerous plastic wrapper, you get a quivering plastic cheese substitute that doesn't taste of anything at all. I demand cheap cheese! Real dairy produce, stuff that smells of cheese, tastes like cheese, and doesn't vibrate on its own accord.
     
    All I need now is a dog called Grommet.
  17. caldrail
    It's Bank Holiday Weekend in Britain again. Those of us not busy demolishing our properties with ideas for home improvement will be heading for the coast, a mass migration of people desperate for fun and sun away from their daily grind. The government have issued a warning to those intending to travel that they can expect long delays on trunk routes.
     
    We know. Everyone knows the motorways get jammed up with cars every Bank Holiday Weekend. But then, since the government have made our lives duller by taking money out of our pockets to spend on schemes to identify who we all are, of course we're going to gamble on getting to the coast for a couple of days. Incidentially, I notice that in Swindon, public houses are closing in droves. Before long, the phrase "I'm off down the pub" will have a very different meaning.
     
    There is an ironic quality to this. In an attempt to shut the kids up and keep them occupied, parents risk being trapped in a parked vehicle for several hours listening to that perennial favourite "Are we there yet?"
     
    You have to wonder though whether the government warnings are going to be noticed. They've not exactly shone as custodians of Britains finances, they've made themselves look mean and stingy over the rights of Ghurka veterans to settle in Britain, and seem more concerned with scrounging money for *or* videos whilst Gordon Brown is away on speech duty.
     
    We do seem to be getting a lot of warnings right now anyway. Enviromentalists are warning us the climate is heading for apocalypse. The moslem activists are warning us of rivers of blood. The Russians are warning us that they rather liked the Cold War and can they have another one please? Beyond that, the World Health Organisation have notified us that we are now at Pandemic Phase Five ("Get Ready To Panic") over Swine Flu. The strange thing is though, although such a state of alertness over this apparently virulent disease means that areas should be quarantined to prevent its spread, they say there's no point.
     
    So strictly speaking, if the government wanted to stop motorway madness this Bank Holiday, all they need to do is quarantine the towns. It seems they almost have. By making it unaffordable to buy new cars, by making it undesirable to own older ones, by making it impossible to park a car anywhere, by making lots of new road junctions that bypass every single stop, the government are well on the way to achieving their aim of quiet, stationary Bank Holidays. But what's the point of Stationary Britain?
     
    Bank Holiday of the Week
    How shall I spend my weekend? Well... I won't be driving anywhere. I won't be doing any DIY. Instead, I'll be relaxing, taking it easy, and keeping quiet about it in case someone thinks I should be looking for a job instead. Of course I want a job really. How else could I legitimately claim time off to escape the mad rush this weekend?
  18. caldrail
    This morning was wet. Not heavy rain, but that persistent drizzle that dampens everything. Quite a change from the cloudless sky I saw last night. Most of us star gaze once in a while, and that's exactly what I did from the back window of my home. Sadly, the atmospheric conditions and the glow of street lighting meant you could only see the brighter stars. The night sky is sometimes so much more vivid in the countryside. But there was the Big Dipper, probably the only constellation I recognise.
     
    I find it hard to take in what those tiny points of light actually are. Each a massive nuclear furnace that dwarfs the earth, and the nearest a whopping twenty five triillion miles away. At a steady pace, it would take me something like nine hundred and sixty million years to walk there. Even if I drive in a Ferrari flat out, it would still take sixteen million years. A transatlantic jumbo jet takes four million years. The fastest car ever, Thrust SSC, won't be there any sooner than two million years from now. An Saturn V moon rocket at full throttle will still need more than eighty thousand years to cover that distance.
     
    You know what? Douglas Adams was right. Space really is mind-boggingly big. This means of course that if space aliens really are visiting earth on a regular basis as is often claimed, they're certainly paying less fuel tax than we are.
     
    Big Car of the Week
    Is it my imagination or are 4x4's getting bigger? One enormous black vehicle turned a corner in front of me today. I can see why americans class them as trucks, this one surely required a heavy goods vehicle license to be legally driven. Vehicles like that might be okay on the american highway, but in the British west countrys somewhat restricted lanes, it looked ridiculous. Still, you can't argue with sales. Bigger is better in many peoples minds. If it carries on like this, we'll need to drop a mountain-sized meteorite off the coast of Mexico to render them extinct.
     
  19. caldrail

    As If By Magic

    By caldrail,

    What does a photograph mean? On the face of it, probably not much, as it is after all a static recording of light received by a chemical or electronic process at that given moment. Sometimes it can convey information, or perhaps preserve a happy memory. You could say a photograph has whatever significance you place upon it.
     
    Some people have a gift for photography. They manage to capture more than a smple recording of light. They capture movement, frozen for that instant, or a scene that invokes a mood. My own efforts at taking photos aren't really intended for public consumption which is probably just as well considering how dull they usually are. Perhaps it's just as well that I don't indulge in the worst excesses of the amateur photographer - the family album.
     
    In actual fact, I've been very lucky in the past. So far I've only been caught twice with a family album to look through. Once by a young lady who was desperate to keep me there until she plucked up the courage to... Well.. You know.... The second time by the mother of a friend of mine who was, I think, feeling a bit lonely and just needed someone to talk to. Other than that I've gotten away with it.
     
    Yesterday I got ambushed with some wedding photos of our relations out in New Zealand. The photo of the newly weds was pushed under my nose with particular care. I knew the groom. I'd met him as a troubled teenager and once gave him a swift ride in a sports car around Swindon in an effort to stop him freaking out at what was an extraordinarily dull family meet. He even tried to get me to do the same in New Zealand in a hire car and that after he'd narrowly escaped prosecution for wrapping his own vehicle around a tree on a rain soaked curve.
     
    The woman he was marrying was a very pretty young blonde, who I've never met, and I haven't a clue who she is. But at that stage of the proceedings, I realised what this close encounter of the family album kind was about. My mother is at it again. Scheming.... Plotting....
     
    If you haven't guessed already, she wants to play happy families. She tries this on a regular basis. It isn't that I wouldn't become a family man if the right circumstances came about, but it's the circumstances happening in front of me I don't like. The emotional manipulation annoys me most of all. Why can't she just ask me? Why can't she just accept things are they way they are? The answer is that she prefers to pull strings. It makes her feel clever.
     
    A part of me thinks that she wants me married off not for my benefit, but so she can play the grannie to her own friends. The other part of me thinks it's all about making me conform to her very own fantasy of what I should be. Somewhere in all of this I'm just a means to an end.
     
    Nice try, but wedding photos aren't as effective as magic wands.
     
    Magic Books
    Talking of magic wands, I see Gordon Brown is writing a book about the global financial crisis and what lessons we can learn from it. Maybe it's just me, but I thought we'd already cottoned on how to solve that. Not that I'm particularly bothered. I won't be reading it. His brand of magic is a little bit of a con-trick in my experience. In any case, when the news reporter asked when his book was coming out, he answered that he didn't know. I sense an global publishing crisis on the horizon.
  20. caldrail

    Pointing At Stars

    By caldrail,

    Not a nice day. Maybe it isn't raining quite to the extent certain parts of Australia have suffered recently but the wind is blustery and the air damp with rainness. No, not a nice day. As if that suprises me. For a start this is Britain, and we are known internationally for our trademarked lousy climate. On the other hand, it's also a time of astronomical significance and therefore the skies are cloudy so we cannot observe the celestial wonders above.
     
    BBC have even started Stargazing Live in which an astronomer and a comedian provide the running commentary to real on-the-spot stargazing. A part of me wonders if Dara O'Brean is only their to make Brian Cox sound interesting, but perhaps I criticise too much. After all, they're getting paid for pointing at the night sky. I just get cold and wet.
     
    Since they're professional presenters the skies cleared for them, as the BBC seem to be able to book good weather in advance, but for me the arrival of a meteor storm went unnoticed as I looked out onto a typically dismal winter night. Somewhere above lumps of dirt are plummetting into the atmosphere at thousands upon thousands of miles an hour and making nice pyrotechnic displays as they burn up from the friction of it. And once again, British weather has obscured it. Never mind. Let's be optimistic. I still have a few years left before I die of old age. Maybe I'll get to see a shower or two before my tired old body gives up the wait?
     
    Better yet, this is a period of alignment, in which the planets form an orderly queue and cause global devastation by concatenated gravitic influence. Or not, as the case may be. I'm not worried. there's plenty of flu going around, so any space alien invasion is bound to fail. You'd think super intelligent creatures from other worlds would learn that Earth people cannot be defeated. We have the perfect defence. Get your coughs and sniffles now, while stocks last.
     
    Moan of the Week
    Today is 20% day. For those foreigners who've never encountered the Great British Taxation System, Value Added tax has risen to 20% to pay off the politicians ezpenses. It's a surcharge for all transactions on goods and services, so if I buy a bag of jelly beans, not only does it cost sixty pence, it also costs me another twelve that the government rake off. That I suppose is the advantage that Doctor Who has. His jelly beans are supplied by the BBC, whose budget I also have to pay an unholy sum for every year.
  21. caldrail
    Something's wrong. I know something is wrong. Part of me thinks this might be paranoia, yet I cannot escape the evidence of the light through the bedroom curtains. It looks distinctly un-sunny. Oh no!
     
    My worst fears were confirmed as I glanced bleary eyed out the back window. A grey, overcast day, with a sombre mood. How strange! Normally it rains on a Bank Holiday Monday but all we got was blistering sunshine. What it must have been like trapped in a traffic jam with a family of bored kids whilst slowly melting in your five-star safety rating oven on wheels is anyones guess. Sounds like my idea of hell.
     
    How To Enjoy The Royal Wedding
    Of course the reason that our sunny weather is evaporating and normal dreary dampness restored is because of the Royal Wedding. What national event in Britain could possibly take place without a deluge?
     
    Just now I looked at a news item that tells the world where to enjoy the Royal Wedding. The list of places was predictable and uninspired, being restricted to public parks, medieval castles, or stood with all the other punters along the route. Failing that of course there's always YouTube. The royal family have booked a page to delight us all with talking corgi's and stumbles.
     
    I think we need to show more imagination as a country. Surely there's more exciting and interesting places to watch the wedding from? Certainly not afghan prisons, as the timely escape of Al Qaida inmates shows. Certainly not Ireland, with dissident terrorists plotting to reduce the wedding to the status of a war crime.
     
    I know. Let's not watch it at all and go instead for a holiday in some remote exotic locale? After all, with everyone converging on London for the practice of the Queens Funeral, surely there's some good deals going down at travel agents?
     
    Departing Live
    As if the Royal Wedding wasn't bad enough, I see there's plans to show a man dying live on television. Please forgive me for being a bit of a party pooper here, but I really do have better things to watch.
  22. caldrail
    Do my eyes deceive me? Is Hollywood really planning to make a big screen blockbuster movie about the alien invasion we all helped to fend off in the eighties? Yes, Space Invaders, the most pixellated enemy of mankind, is about to change tactics and emerge upon our cinemas near you.
     
    Am I supposed to be excited? If this is an attempt by Hollywood to create a new film rather than just another sequel, it's failed utterly. I mean, how many times has Earth been invaded by aliens? We've been fending off all manner of alien threats since Plan B From Outer Space. Mostly they make a mess when they get here so a film about hitting them with little coloured squares whilst still approaching would be different, if only puppetmaster Gerry Anderson hadn't already fended off alien invaders as they flew toward earth in his series UFO.
     
    Well, my spies have delved into the secret offices of Space Invaders - The Movie to bring you this slightly not real spoiler...
     
    RADAR MAN - Sir? There's something on radar
     
    GENERAL - That can't be son. I haven't been informed
     
    RADAR MAN - Look sir. There. Lots of (pause) blips.
     
    GENERAL - My god.
     
    RADAR MAN - What are they sir?
     
    GENERAL - Pixels, son, lots of pixels. Call the Pentagon
     
    RADAR MAN - Yes sir (pause) President on the line sir
     
    PRESIDENTS VOICE - What is it General?
     
    GENERAL - Pixels, Mister President. Arriving in force. I can see three (pause) No, four lines of them.
     
    PRESIDENTS VOICE - You know what to do, General.
     
    GENERAL - Yes SIr. Those pixels don't stand a chance (puts down phone) Okay, son, open fire.
     
    RADAR MAN - But Sir, we can't lock our weapons onto them. They keep scrolling.
     
    GENERAL - Oh my god.
     
    And Now For Plan B
    Not to be outdone by the American film industry, Russia is planning to send the Olympic flame into space. Deputy Prime Minister Zhukov says "Previously the cosmic peaks of sports records were always just a metaphor but now we have the real opportunity to send the symbol of peace, friendship, unity and excellence beyond earth's frontiers."
     
    Well I'm sure the enemy alien pixels will realise we just want a sporting competition and not all out war after all. Plus, if they hurry, they might receive tickets to the games. Who needs a square jawed hero with white teeth and a very, very big gun when you can shoot flames into space instead?
  23. caldrail

    Fifty? Who Cares?

    By caldrail,

    Take a deep breath Caldrail. Today you are fifty years of age. Funny thing is I don't feel like I'm fifty, apart from the usual disintegration of the male body in middle age. They say you're as young as you feel and coincidentially I keep getting people telling me that I'm still young. It seems the average person has a very poor understanding of human biology.
     
    Fifty is one of those milestones in your life. Quite why the number fifty is significant is a matter of curiosity to me. There's no legal or cultural change at that age. I don't look any different. I don't feel any different. All I did was wake up this morning, study the crags in the bathroom mirror, and plodded off about my business as usual. Heaven forbid that I should take the day off from my jobsearch. Since they don't respect my title in any way whatsoever, I seriously doubt my birthday will impress them.
     
    That brings me to an interesting point. By now a typical reader might be speculating the orgy of festivites I'll be facing tonight. It's expected that I endure some large party to celebrate my fiftieth. I suppose in better circumstances I would. It is after all expected. There's almost a competitive element involved in which I must stage some spectacular celebration or be considered a loser, fit only be spurned and scorned.
     
    Let's be honest - it isn't going to happen. Fifty? Not this year. Does that make me miserable and upset? No. It doesn't. During the last weekend I attended a group discussion on how an individual can make a positive contribution to society. One young chap spoke up, a sufferer of Aspergers Syndrome, and he said that his life was being dragged down by those around him until he made a concious decision that happiness was his to command. That might seem a tiny or irrelevant thing to say but it wasn't. The fact that my fiftieth won't be marked by some massive party in which six hundred drunkards will fight to the death, several thousand chickens slaughtered in a mindless buffet, or teams of hot hatches racing around the local area in a daring attempt to win the honour of being crowned champion, is neither here nor there - though I suspect the police will be relieved.
     
    Okay, my world is not as wondeful as it might be. But who cares? Awww what the heck. I am going to take the day off. Don't care. It's my birthday and I'll enjoy it if I want to.
     
    Ding!
    What's that? Someones ringing my doorbell? Probably someone's got the wrong door, which is usually what happens, but you never know. It might be a birthday present sent to me by some kind person that needs signing for. Nope. It wasn't. Instead I was greeted by two plain clothes policemen. You mean... No... Surely not?... My stolen Eunos Cabriolet has been found?
     
    My hopes were cruelly dashed. Cast your mind back if you will but long time readers might remember that the Job Centre once began the rigmarole required to get me a shotgun license. All I ever did was make a sarcastic remark when I was in a bad mood and asked by a claims advisor if there was anything I needed. I never expected anyone to take that request seriously.
     
    One might have hoped they'd wish happy birthday but there you go. Anyhow, the policeman politely explained that someone had reported an attempt to obtain a firearm and they needed to eliminate me from their enquiries. Luckily they didn't seem to be armed. Aren't our policemen wonderful? That's what you get for having an argument with a jumped up arrogant busybody at the Job Centre I guess. No problem. I merely explained the circumstance and that the event had happened ages ago. The policemen left happy knowing I wasn't about to commit crime or violent rampage. I went back inside grieving for my poor lost Eunos, youth, and any sign of birthday present deliveries.
     
    By The Way
    Ye gods this is a warm day. Glad I took the day off. Maybe I did get a birthday gift after all? Always look the bright side.
  24. caldrail

    Sweating Heavily

    By caldrail,

    Sex, violence, and financial wobbles - In no particular order. That's pretty much the news every night and yesterday was no different. With Greece failing to please the rest of the world share prices have tumbled. What? Again? People have been dealing in shares since big curly wigs were a fashion statement. You would think by now we'd have learned that shares were a risky investment. Much like cheating at cricket for instance.
     
    However, the wobbles of the Eurozone are not the last word in financial disasters according to certain experts. I'm not sure the greeks agree, but the government is determined to persuade us that their gameplan to recover from the last recession continues without hindrance.
     
    Talking about hindrance, I notice that anti-capitalist protestors are busy. Blockading St Pauls Cathedral and embarrasing senior churchmen. Now they're now setting up camp outside the next G20 conference. Whilst it gives them something to do it doesn't keep them off the streets, does it? Yet the idiocy of it is incredible. I agree these bureaucrats aren't always as public spirited as they like to claim, but who generates the wealth for these protestors dole payments?
     
    Time then for me to help the ailing economy and buy something from the shops. There was a time when buying things was hardly a consideration. These days I must weigh up the value of the goods I want and decide if the proce is affordable. Ohh to heck with it. I'll buy it anyway.
     
    On the way down to the local high street I noticed cars were queuing up at a road junction. As I turned the corner I saw why. A police car had blocked the road whilst they bundled three youths into the back. I imagine that has caused a wobble in the local drug supply. Do the anti-capitalist protestors realise how much money some of these drug dealers make from trading pills and powder? More to the point, I wonder how many of them do business with our back street alchemists?
     
    Sorry Madam
    Sometimes however you're not allowed to purchase the goods you want. Take the case of a 92 year old lady who was refused a bottle of whisky because she couldn't prove she was over 18. That certainly proves you're as young as you feel.
     
    Spit And Polish
    Today I decided to clean the cooker. For me that's like wandering into the jungles of New Guinea and asking the natives what they fancy for lunch. Nonetheless the cooker must be cleaned.
     
    It must be said the effectiveness of modern cleaning materials is much better than I remember. With a few squirts of Kooker-Kleen and a vigourous wipe with a rag, the forlorn apparatus is once again white and shiney even if I'm not.
     
    And I did it all myself, unlike Snow White, who needed an entire horde of cartoon animals to finish her household chores for her. But then she wasn't covered in grime afterward. I'm not entirely domesticated you know.
  25. caldrail

    A Matter Of Time

    By caldrail,

    According to the BBC, ten million of you watched the Dr Who special marking the 50th year of time travelling mayhem and alien invasions of Earth. I strongly suspect far fewer of you are going to be reading this, but who knows, perhaps one day this blog will survive the ravages of time and become an indispensible guide to how life in Swindon really was before Professor Cox was proved right.
     
    I do note however one aspect of Day Of The Doctor that most people might not have noticed. The good Doctor turns out to have been an utter cad. He sent Rose Tyler into exile in another dimension so he could snog Elizabeth 1st. Perhaps worse than that, children have learned that our foremost warrior queen married a nine hundred year old alien with really bad fashion sense. No wonder she kept that secret.
     
    Dr Cox
    A little while ago I spotted a news item on Yahoo in which Professor Brian Cox was quoted as saying that time travel was possible. I disagree with him vehemently and posted a somewhat sarky comment to that effect. You see, he says that einsteinian time dilation due to excessive speed allows a traveller to go into the future. I say it doesn't, because the traveller hasn't left his own present and cannot move independently of his own local time, thus he isn't time travelling at all. Physics is really easy when you don't listen to physics lecturers.
     
    Lo and behold within days a lecture by Professor Cox was aired on television in which he discussed whether time travel was possible. Actually he spent most of the lecture dazzling his audience with the inner mysteries of light cones, and only at the very end suggested a possible time travel paradigm. He said that if you could warp space so that the end met the beginning, then hurtling through space at near-light speed would get you into the past.
     
    He is of course wrong. If he was right, all it wouldl do is get you ten penalty points on your license and a three month ban on driving time machines. Not only are there speed cameras everywhere,to catch you flashing past at 186,000 miles per second, your arrival at your destination will very likely be in the history books and therefore you're guilty as charged. According to the history books I've read, no-one from the future ever turned up.
     
    He did confess that the energy required to warp space like that would be enormous but tried to inspire the television audience to try anyway. Clearly he hasn't dealt with energy companies. If he had, he would know that no-one in Britain could afford to power their time machine.
     
    Survival Without Central Heating Update
    Cold... So cold...
     
    Time Machine Of The Week
    So you want to follow the good professors advice and build a time machine? Well, you don't need to build a weird victorian chair with rotating umbrella, a 60's police box, or a huge underground complex in the American desert. Just follow my simple instructions and you can travel through time.
     
    Step 1 - Sit comfortably.
     
    Step 2 - Wait. Twiddle thumbs if necessary.
     
    Step 3 - Done. Finished. You have just travelled through time according to Professor Cox. Admittedly you won't be able to snog Elizabeth 1st, battle Daleks, or act the idiot with a sonic screwdriver, but there you go.
     
    You see, in order to travel into the past or future then the past or future has exist in order to visit it. That means that Time must be dimensional, which unfortunately for Professor Cox means the past is already defined, and since the future is merely a part of the Time dimension we haven't reached yet, it too is pre-determined , which means there's nothing you can do. The bank will foreclose on your mortgage, Schrodingers Cat will die of starvation, and the number 10 bus will squash your dog. There's nothing you can do because Time is already defined.
     
    As for me, I say time travel cannot possibly happen because there isn't any Time, only Now. A single existentent moment that changes on a quantum level incredibly fast like a stop-frame movie with a frame rate of billions upon trillions upon quadrillions of frames a second, varying locally according to such einsteinian things like speed and gravity. All the atoms that made Julius Caesar still exist, albeit seperated and changed. A vibrating universe that has no past or future, merely a present that experiences Change. Time is therefore not a seperate existence, dimension, or place you can visit, just our experience of Change.
     
    Sadly I can't compete with Professor Cox when it comes to inviting celebrity audiences to a television physics lecture, but I've taken your advice Brian. I've made a start. Trouble is, my time machine cannot possibly work.
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