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caldrail

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Blog Entries posted by caldrail

  1. caldrail

    Long Service

    By caldrail,

    British weather is notorious. We have a long standing tradition of beginning conversations on that topic. Today will be no exception. Hurricane Bill (or what was left of it) certainly made an impression. It didn't rain throughout the week but we had some heavy showers and yet more amber triangles on our television screens every hour. Today is sunny and bright, a hazy vista of pale blue sky and silver edged cumulus on the horizon. It's also distinctly cold. Hang on, isn't this August? What happened to Global Warming? I thought we were all going to die of heat stroke?
     
    Seven Year Service
    It's no good, my old guitar has served well but it needs a fettle. So off I went down to the local music store and asked for a seven year service (my description, not theirs). The resident guitar guru asked to see my guitar and promptly rattled off an annoyingly good solo on it, declaring it was fine.
     
    Yes... But the intonation might be off?
     
    He shrugged and told me he couldn't complete the work before October anyway because he's getting married and won't be in the workshop until then. What? You mean to tell me you're having sex and not fixing my guitar?
     
    Researcher of the Week
    Recently I've been bumping into an old mate of mine. I used to play in bands with H during my days as a local wannabee drum hero, and none too suprisingly, he still plays bass guitar even after twenty five years. He does sessions in London now and good for him. However, he also now haunts the library as I do but his intention is to research medals, and every time I see him he's buried in family tree and military websites collating information.
     
    I asked him curiosity how many medals he'd researched. About six hundred, he tells me. All that work and you just know H won't do anything with it.
     
    What is it with people in this town? There's another guy I know who's an expert on the American Civil War, and someone who's given lectures over there on that very subject. Some people might be able to tell you which units fought at the Battle of Anyoldburg, but he can tell you who their commander was, what he had for breakfast that day, and the name of the dog he fed the scraps to. But he won't write a book on the subject.
     
    I know the gentleman concerned is strongly anti-war in his thinking (perhaps that's no bad thing considering) and considers the glorification and entertainment aspects of military study as undesirable. For that reason, he always concentrates on peripheral issues dealing with his favourite conflict and dislikes discussing the actual confrontations themselves, despite being supremely knowledgable about them. All that research and it will die with him. Surely the study of history is to perpetuate knowledge and understanding?
  2. caldrail

    Visitors and Tourists

    By caldrail,

    The plumber was back early this morning. Apparently his previous repair hadn't solved the leaking water that my downstairs neighbour was so concerned about. He had every reason to be so, since it turns out the electrical wiring downstairs is uncomfortably close to the pipes. Anyway, the much harassed plumber rebuilt my bathroom in record time before I popped down to the library. Can't see any smoke coming from downstairs, so perhaps this time the problem is solved?
     
    Playgrounds
    The local paper has made a big deal about the renovation of childrens play areas around the town. I do wonder about that because I don't see kids using those facilities, which seem frequented by drug users more often. As an adult I also realise that using these facilities is going to draw attention to me, partly because it labels me as a mentally deficient person (I'm too old to have fun after all!) but also because solitary adults socialising with kids is a definite no-no these days. Therefore I'll not bother with the playgrounds, and I suspect the kids won't either because it's just too uncool compared to playstations and mobile phones (or even copying more adult behaviour), so the drug users in Swindon can be assured that the Council is looking after their native enviroment.
     
    Tourist Trap of the Week
    Is none other than our very own Swindon. Despite its grey and rainy image, and the fact that some major renovation schemes in the town have been cancelled due to economic downturns and banking cock-ups, Swindon is pressing ahead with plans to make our red brick town a place for tourists to stop by and relax.
     
    I also note that in an editorial column Swindon was defended on the grounds that its critics are using obselete and incorrect opinion. Thanks for the tip. I'll take another wander around the town and see what I find. My guess is that it's pretty much the same as yesterday.
  3. caldrail
    Bill is here. The remnant of Hurricane Bill is currently passing across the coast of Scotland on its way to Norway bringing wet and windy weather to the the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire. Actually it's not too bad. I did get caught in a shower yesterday - an occupational hazard of living in Britain - but that left me slightly damp, not soaked. Compared to what's going on in the big wide world, my encounter with a few raindrops means nothing...
     
    The news is full of the usual tragedy and strife that makes current events such interesting viewing if somewhat shocking and depressing on occaision. Headlines reveal a great deal. Ted Kennedy taking the secret of Chappaquiddick to his grave, a doctor arrested on homicide charges over Michael Jacksons untimely demise, a sharp rise in jobless British households, a five year old child shot dead with an air rifle in Wiltshire, crowds of football hooligans fighting each other at Upton Park in London, a young lady so upset about her exam results that she stabbed her boyfriend to death, another man stabbed after answering a hoax advert, thugs attack a ninety year old woman, and even James May's attempt to create the longest toy train journey ever was disrupted by vandals nicking track sections or short circuiting the bits left behind with coins.
     
    Not so long ago a christian woman was trying to make a hard sell of her religion. I've no doubt she had some ulterior motive to improve her sects headcount at services - perhaps I'm a little cynical? - but at one point she asked me in an attempt to pierce my spiritualist armour "Don't you think human beings are special?"
     
    Personally, I think all too often Human Beings are bad news.
     
    Good News of the Week
    Sometimes you have to wonder at the mentality of television program makers. Take Big Brother for instance. Take a dozen assorted wierdo's and hopeless cases, put them in a socially isolated house, and watch every single thing they do, for entertainment.
     
    Why on earth would any sensible, well adjusted, fulfilled human being waste their time as a fly on the wall to these people? To some extent it's marketing of course, but the problem with that is once the novelty wears off viewers lose interest, and they have done exactly that. So much disinterest in fact that Big Brother is to be axed. Good news at last.
     
  4. caldrail
    My parcel from the States should be due any day now. I'll be glad when it gets here, so I can restore my PC to it's former glory. The hassle of course is making yourself available to sign for the delivery when it finally arrives. Past experience has shown that parcels mysteriously vanish from the doorstep, and on occaision, a naughty delivery driver took the parcel away and signed my name for it. In the meantime, what has the postman brought me today? Lets see... One letter. From the delivery people no less. That has to be about my order. It is!
     
    It seems that HM Customs & Excise want VAT paid on it (that's a sort of purchase tax, if anyone out there doesn't know) and the delivery company want a fee for handling it through customs. There's an option to pay by phone which is quick and convenient, so I'll try that.... It was of course an automated system.
    Key in your thirteen digit delivery code... Now.... Okedokee. That worked.
     
    Your postcode is SN1... Is that correct? Press 1 for Yes, or.... Yes yes yes, it's correct.
     
    Key in your credit card number... Now.... Right then. 1234 5678 9012 3456....
     
    Key in your credit card number... Now.... What? Again? Oh all right then... 1234 5678 9012 3456....
    Key in your credit card number... Now....
     
    What is this? Some sort of game? Get to the next level and receive your parcel? Oh I give up, I'll pay them online this afternoon, assuming the delivery company has mastered the World Wide Web.
     
    In case anyone was wondering how expensive life in Britain is these days, it cost me ten pounds to have a small parcel sent three thousand miles across the Atlantic. It's going to cost me twice that to send it thirty miles from Bristol.
     
    Recipe Of The Week
    As a single guy, I have to cook for myself. No, that's not a sexist lament, I do enjoy cooking as long as it doesn't take more than twenty minutes. I've got no time for complex recipes nor for that matter the wallet to afford obscure ingredients, and even cheap stuff from the supermarket costs twice what it did a couple of years ago - government please note. Occaisionally though I come up with a real gem... Try this recipe at home...
     
    Irish Pasta
     
    Cook sliced meat (lamb works nicely) in an oven and place on a plate.
     
    Open a tin of irish stew and empty into a suacepan. Add a touch of brown sauce and pepper sauce. Stir. Heat gently. Pour sauce over meat.
     
    Heat a saucepan of pasta. Twirls or tubes work best (sorry, don't know the italian names), place on top of the plate, and sprinkle coarse pepper if required.
     
    It tastes great, it really does.
     
  5. caldrail
    Every so often I get asked which team I support. The question of course always applies to football, or more specifically, soccer, but the questioner assumes you already know that and that you follow the results with an encyclopedic knowledge of every individual involved in the game. I have to say that sport as a whole fails to move me. Fine if you're actually playing it, when it becomes a contest between teams or individuals concerned, but to cheer from the sidelines always seems a bit like pornography to me. You're supposed to get excited watching someone else do it.
     
    Last night I sat down to watch the evening news. Let's find out what's going on out there.... I hardly needed to read the headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Yes, England beat Australia at Cricket. I already know, I heard the yobboes chanting victory songs all the way up the road. I'd like to think that sort of celebration will keep them busy and out of trouble, but you just know it won't.
     
    So England won the Ashes eh? Well that's a matter of world shaking significance isn't it? Commiseration to the Aussies but if it's any consolation, I shan't be gloating because I just don't care. Partly that's because cricket is a game that bores me completely, but mostly because it's expected that I should be interested, and that gets up my nose.
     
    The second question I get asked every so often is... So what sport are you interested in?...
     
    Well... Walking home yesterday through a well-to-do area I heard a householder open his garage. A few moments later, the raucous sound of a powerful erupted into life. It was of course a Ferrari, a gleaming red 360, and the noise was unmistakeable. He went off for a Sunday drive with the engine appealing to him to floor the throttle. What a sound! I get goosebumps just thinking about it.
     
    The answer to life, universe, and sport is therefore motor racing. And no, I don't follow it. But it sure is fun indulging in a passion once in a while isn't it? When you can afford to of course. For now I shall have to sit on the sidelines, and watch the bright red machine growl away into the distance.
     
    Sheer *or*.
     
    Cat of the Week
    Of course it isn't just cars that people use to display wealth and status. Even domestic pets can be used as designer labels. The recent trend toward purpose bred pets isn't something I think is particularly desirable, but sometimes you get the impression that some supposedly pedigree breeds are no more than a fancy label.
     
    Ever heard of a Belgian Leopard Cat? Well, one household of my acquaintance has, though I think they meant Bengal Leopard Cat, and the slightly disagreeable animal has already destroyed their furniture. I guess sometimes keeping a fancy pet requires a little more wealth than expected.
     
  6. caldrail

    Phut!... Uh Oh....

    By caldrail,

    The big red van slowed to crawl outside my home and drove onto the pavement so as not to obstruct the road. I hope there's no policeman around, because usually they give drivers parking on the pavement a right ticking off, like they did to the television repair man the last time he called. As it happened, the delivery driver handed me the expected parcel and I had to sign electronically on this wierd gizmo of his.
     
    Now, at this point you're probably expecting me to shout yahoo! and jump about in excited anticipation of putting my poor old computer back on par. Sadly, it arrived too late. My computer has died, this time spectacularly. The power supply and the motherboard are both fried.
     
    Again, at this point you're expecting me to get all depressed and philosophical about the trials and woes that life puts in our path. What's the point? I've done that once already. I think I'm starting to get used to this level of adversity. As it happens, it turns out that computer hardware is something like a third cheaper than it was ten years ago. So this time, I only have to sell one family member into slavery.
     
    Just In Time
    It seems my local computer repair shop is moving to premises across town. Oh come on guys, am I really that bad a customer?
     
    Back and Forth
    I've gotten into an email exchange over one of my job applications. The person who received it at some anonymous department somewhere sent it back saying they couldn't process it because the vacancy reference was missing. No it isn't, I replied, it's there, in the message, right in front of you. Ah, the next reply said, I haven't put it in the title, so they can't do anything.
     
    You're right, you can't.
     
    Education of Week
    Finally, and with only days to spare, the College has sent me the details of the electrical awareness course they want me to do before I sign up for another government sponsored training opportunity. So it's get the form stamped at the Job Centre...
     
    "Have you got a letter of entitlement to benefits?" The woman asked. Erm... No... Since you asked. Oh come on, I pass this desk every fortnight and I once lost my temper with you. Surely you remember me? She sighed and vanished for ten minutes to find some evidence that I exist.
  7. caldrail

    Playing Games

    By caldrail,

    What a lovely morning! The sun is shining, the drunks are sleeping it off in police cells, and the library has resumed a quiet mood as we all sit down and log on to pursue our various browsing needs. Logging on first thing in the morning isn't a hassle any more either. AM has vanished... what? Has he actually gone South Africa? Or has he succumbed to old age?... I actually miss his verbal presence even if he was a complete scoundrel.
     
    Not like yesterday of course. IHaving left some time unused I popped back in the aftermnoon to finish off with some research on World War two aircraft - That's another hobby of mine and one dating back to my childhood. Like many others the catalogue of Airfix plastic kits was the gateway to my youthful imagination as I flew these little aeroplanes complete with scale lumps of badly applied glue in my mind. Of course my imaginary war was nothing like close to reality, but I didn't know that then.
     
    Anyway, the booking screen was offline. Oh that's a good start. The lady on the helpdesk apologised over the phone to someone else about the lack of facility whilst I pateiently waited for the same reason. Once her phone call had terminated with a final apology, she enquired what I wanted then apologised to me for the same reason. Nonetheless, she did manage to book me a PC on her administrator system. Middle floor, at the far end, a place of busy teenage interaction that I had avoided up until now.
     
    I would like to thank the young boy sat on my right the other side of the partition. His constant commentary on his progress through the computer game he was playing certainly grabbed my attention. He was only about seven or eight years old, but showed his experience and appreciation of the computer game genre when he said "This game should be boring but I find it strangely appealing".
     
    Personally, I think his parents should buy him a baseball cap and teach him to wear it at a strange angle before he grows up to be a geek. He is, after all, very annoying already. The rest of the teenage crowd was also annoying. One lad performed a monotonous drum solo on his desk, a couple of girls were doing girly things with mobile phones, and one lad was giving the world the benefit of his experience of street survival. I've got another twenty minutes of this.... I'm in Hell....
     
    Virtual Fun of the Week
    Okay, I admit it, I occaisionally play computer games. Yesterday was Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, a sort of surreal simulation of gangs in 90's LA. Despite the ammoral game content (Stealing cars, shooting policemen, spraying graffiti everywhere, and racking up crime statistics the Kray Brothers could only dream of - and yes, you can also pull prostitutes if you... I'll stop there) it really is good fun.
     
    However, I decided to pop in to the Ten Green Bottles bar up the road from my virtual home, and made for the pool table, a game within a game. Over the course of the contest, I won twenty six thousand dollars from some street hoodlum. Did LA gangsters really have that sort of cash in their pockets of an evening? Or is this computer game not quite true to life?
  8. caldrail

    Strange Goings On

    By caldrail,

    Over the last few days there's been a flatbed lorry parked partially on the pavement during the day whilst it's crew of workmen barricade the pavement off and dig shallow trenches. Nothing unusual there. If there's one one thing to say about Swindon, it has holes in it. Given how unreliable the electricity supply was becoming it's no wonder they dug a few more. But hang on a moment... What is going on?
     
    Now the trench has been filled in the workmen left two upright grey metal poles standing in the pavement. For the moment, there's nothing fixed to them, but seeing as they're located at the end of the new trench I can assume that something electrical will be placed there.
     
    The two poles form a wonderful obstacle for drunks meandering up and down the street. Do they get electrocuted too? Oh I wish...
     
    Bump In The Night
    In the early hours of this morning I was woken by a loud noise. It wasn't likely to be the offices across the road. They're all boarded now. I couldn't see anything untoward out the back of the house, and wondered in some late night reveller had collided with the poles down the road. However, as I left the house to visit the library this morning I spotted a pile of scrap wooden boards and old carpets dumped in next doors front yard. If that had been my yard, blood would be boiling. For now, I can only sympathise.
  9. caldrail

    Repainting Submarines

    By caldrail,

    During an interview in 1966, John Lennon expressed his opinion that Christianity was dying and that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Not in South America it seems because they banned airplay of their albums until 1971. Nor was the American 'Bible Belt' particularly impressed. Their records still sell even today and whilst their popularity as a band may have faded compared to that of Jesus, we still have a legacy of music to enjoy.
     
    It's interesting to study the way their image was presented. On the one hand, they were that loveable bunch of 'mopheads' having harmless fun, on the other sex symbols, and I once saw an early video clip showing Ringo Starr in soft focus with a cigarette hanging out his mouth. Hilarious.
     
    Not just music either, because the Beatles also made feature films. In 1968 they made Yellow Submarine, an animated cartoon story, in which the characters voices were not those of the band (who only make an appearance right at the end as a cameo). I've always had a soft spot for Yellow Submarine. Not sure why, because it's not the psychedelic cartoon style, nor for that matter the subliminal message about the recreational use of drugs.
     
    There's already a computer game in the works (if not already released, but I'm not interested and computer games are always released two years late due to one reason or another) that will allow the player to relive the Beatles as a virtual band experience. This seems to be a growing genre in it's own right.
     
    Some musicians have complained that such games are alternatives to learning real instruments and working music as a career for real, something I find a little odd, because no-one is going to be famous stood playing air guitar in front of their monitor screens. I must admit, I do find that genre uncomfortable, but in my case it's because it reinforces a fantasy in a vulnerable minority who might believe that they too can be famous and don't realise how disappointing the 'real world' can be.
     
    Now I hear that Disney is to remake the film using modern animation techniques. The first version was awful but got away with it because of sheer optimism. Will this one recapture the same madcap mood? It will certainly capture some dollars.
     
    Tantrum of the Week
    This accolade goes to the Spanish gentleman who was unsatisfied with the snacks he was served with. Despite the bar staff telling him to calm down, he proceeded to smash bottles, glasses, chairs, or anything else that came to hand. Now there's a gentleman who needs to chill. I would recommend watching Yellow Submarine. Relax, enjoy the cartoon. Chill.
     
    But he'll probably only complain it's not the Disney version and destroy his television...
  10. caldrail

    Turning A Ship Around

    By caldrail,

    I wonder? What wonderful communications has the postman brought me today? Let's see....
     
    Two rejection letters from employers (I barely read them now), a glossy pamphlet offering two pizzas for the price of one (I always thought they were a tad expensive), and a couple of the local community newsletters that keep me in touch with the latest developments in and around my home.
     
    Big news today then is Queens Park, a little refuge of tranquility just around the corner from where I live. Not so tranquil any more it seems. The Council had decided not to bother locking it up at night to save money, and inevitably the sudden increase in anti-social behaviour has made them rethink that false economy. The vandals and druggies are going to look for somewhere else to reduce to urban ruin then.
     
    I heard one last night getting upset about something. Was that the alcohol talking? A few days ago I caught the tail end of a television program about alcohol and violence in Britain. It focused on one troublesome area and all looked hauntingly familiar. The talking heads interviewed expressly condemned cheap alcohol as the cause of violence, pointing at the phenomenon of pub 'Happy Hours' and bargain deals of various potent brews available in pubs and clubs.
     
    Funny thing is, I think they missed the point. It isn't alcohol to blame at all, but the people who drink it. Okay, a bloke tanked up on several pints probably isn't going to be particularly rational, but then, they knew full well they were going to get drunk (and violent) before they set out of an evening. Now whereas the availability of alcohol is making things worse - I can't disagree there - is a sober society really going to abolish these violent tendencies?
     
    Urban Learning and Leisure
    In another U-turn the council have decided to leave the Old Town library open after all. There's been quite an outcry from those who use the small and and unassuming premises. Perhaps if they leave it open, the vandals and druggies will have somewhere to go? Perhaps not.
     
    The Shape of U-Turns To Come
    There's another change in Council policy looming, this one over car park charges. Recently they doubled prices and inevitably aggrieved citizens and visitors are complaining about paying up more. The cost of parking a car in Swindon hasn't been cheap for some time because the Council wanted to persuade drivers to park on the edge of town and get a bus to complete their journey (I don't know about you, but don't you think that rather defeat the object of owning a motor car in the first place?) but two of those Park & Ride schemes are closing soon, through lack interest. Surely not?
  11. caldrail

    Farmland and Farm Animals

    By caldrail,

    The old guy sat at the bar watched me order a pint of cider before wishing me a good afternoon by way of friendly greeting. The pub had looked inviting, and after returning from my trek up to Bincknoll Castle (a medieval site a few miles southwest of Swindon) the prospect of a cold pint was too good to ignore. With framed photographs of Lancaster bombers on the walls I knew this was a proper English country pub.
     
    He was a talkative chap. Pretty much a typical country bar-fly I suppose, but I was too tired to worry about it. At any rate, he got curious about my rucksack, and enquired how heavy it was. In a mischievous mood I handed it to him, and grinned mightily when the unexpected weight nearly hauled him off his seat.
     
    Wartime Naughtiness
    I was pretty much oblivious to anything going on around me once I sat down to enjoy my pint, but that didn't stop the old man from describing who he was, how poor he was, and why his father was such a rogue. It transpires that during the Second World War his father stole a number of chickens for personal consumption and ended up having to assure a policeman he had nothing to do with it, hoping the constable wouldn't notice the kitchen filled with feathers.
     
    There was also one incident when he stopped by a farm and asked the owner if he could have some apples. The farmer, in a very generous move, said he could take any apples on the ground. The old man's father promptly reversed his truck into the tree and scooped the jackpot.
     
    Sheep of the Week
    A couple of nights ago there was a news report about a country school in southeast England. Apparently, this school operates a very small 'farm' for the benefit of the kids education, and purchased a number of lambs for that purpose. The decision has been made that in order to retain some income and to illustrate to children where food actually comes from, one sheep must go to market.
     
    So it's goodbye to Marcus the Sheep. Not without some controversy. Some parents are horrified that their little darlings will get upset at a favourite pet ending up on someones plate. Personally I don't have a problem. Kids should learn to cope with making difficult decisions and emotional loss. A part of me wonders if a lesson in hunger might not teach them about the realities of farm animals too. This is part of a wider misconception we humans have. People see themselves as 'special' and above nature, when the reality is that we're just as much biological entities as any other creature, and not guaranteed survival, whatever the Bible might say. Since I'm part of the food chain too, I shall wander down the supermarket, pick up some lamb chops (sale price naturally) and thank Marcus for his contribution to my continued health. Sorry kids, but animals eat each other sometimes.
  12. caldrail
    There's been yet another warning about contracting cancer in your lifetime. The list of various causes is growing steadily. If you smoke, sunbathe, drink beer, eat cheese, processed ham, open a fridge, or expose yourself to plastic bags you stand a risk of suffering from this malady. Personally, I think you stand a greater risk of this great disease if you see a doctor.
     
    One chap I used to know from work made a very simple choice. He wasn't interested in the various treatments available for cancer with all their requirements for close observation and undesirable side effects, Instead, he told me he wanted to live out what life he had. Spending the last few years of his existence in and out of hospital beds and a slow decline despite the attentions and privations of modern medecine didn't appeal to him. I can understand his viewpoint.
     
    Is he right to do that? Well, personally I believe he has the right to decide that for himself. Some might then draw parallels with the current trend toward legally assisted suicide, but I wouldn't go that far. There's a callousness you sometimes see in human beings and I wouldn't like to see a future where people are persuaded or cajoled into ending their lives to suit others.
     
    Philosophy of the Week
    The news that two hundred and four British soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan is saddening. The personal loss and grief of friends and family is obvious, and a part of me dislikes the posturings of politicians who go to great lengths to praise them. We know they're risking their lives out there.
     
    These men and women though are risking their lives partly by choice, in that they volunteered for service, and partly to serve their countries interests as defined by the Government. Whether the decision to send soldiers there is right or wrong, and these things are always a matter of opinion and perspective, war is a part of human nature and the need to defend your freedom ever-present.
     
    It reminds me though of a news item some years back. An American soldier refused point blank to go to Iraq because he didn't agree with thew war. I genuinely admire that man for standing up for his beliefs. However, I also see that he swore an oath to serve his countries interests. He has therefore broken that oath and so off to jail he must go. Such is the price of self-determination within an ordered and regulated world.
     
    Martin Luther King once said that a man who is not prepared to die for something does not deserve to live. Harsh words indeed. But how right was he? In the literal sense, death is that final encounter with the Grim Reaper. Perhaps in a more philosophical sense, death is the end of that rewarding experience we casually term as 'A Life'. How many of us bend under pressure for an easy existence? In my experience, freedom is a very fragile thing and whilst we make a great deal of the ending of slavery in the civilisied world since the nineteenth century, the truth is that human beings often like to enslave others by other means. Religion, politics, working enviroment, fashion, lifestyle.... There's always someone telling you how you should live your life.
     
    To what extent should you be individualistic? It seems attractive to pursue self-expression, but how many people are prepared to live with the consequences of setting themselves apart from their peers who survive in comfortable conformity?
  13. caldrail

    Walking With Aliens

    By caldrail,

    Sometimes at night I look up at the stars, and like everyone else, I wonder if there's anyone out there. Sentient creatures, aliens, living out their lives and who knows? - Maybe plotting galactic domination as we speak? To a rational mind that's mostly paranoia and a reflection of the Cold War values that spawned the popularity of alien invasion myth, though I dio note that stories of alien inansions are nothing new. HG Wells classic War of the Worlds postulated the events in his late victorian world of a battle against tripodal aliens whose healthcare was sadly lacking.
     
    So it seems then that alien invasions aren't entirely the idea of Hollywood moguls or Pentagon generals, but a facet of human psychology. In medieval times, people talked of 'Dog-Heads', strange intelligent creatures from an unknown place far away who lurked in shadows and got up to all sorts of machinations.... Sounds familiar doesn't it?
     
    There are those of a certain mindset who claim that an alien race reaching our planet couldn't possibly be aggressive, because the need to co-operate to achieve that level of science would mean only a peaceful society could do that (distances between star systems are enormous and difficult to comprehend, not to mention difficult to to deal with). That's an optimistic view of course, from people who want to meet aliens and discuss science, philosophy, and the arts on an equal footing with intelligent creatures not of this Earth. I have a sneaking feeling these people are also quite lonely, because the average Earthling hasn't a clue about their favourite subjects and leaves the room when to guzzle beer whenever it comes up in conversation.
     
    Would aliens be peaceful or aggressive? The truth is, we can't know that. An alien species would have behaviour described by the sort of creature they evolved from, changed by their history and circumstance. Survival of the fittest would be as true on an alien world as our own so a dominant species wouldn't dominate without some ability to do so. How would they see us? As potential friends? Spiritual brothers? Curiosities? Resources? Enemies? Fodder? Experimental subjects? Or pests? We just can't second-guess how an alien mind would regard our self-important little species.
     
    Now that the British have followed America with freedom of information legislation, the files of governmental activity have revealed the extent to which the British public has encountered UFO's. Some of it is quite incredible and some clearly the imaginings of people who aren't sure what it is they've seen and are trying to find rational explanations in ignorance. It is, in fact, a very medieval way of thinking in some cases. But then, since we are essentially a pack animal and respond to outsiders in very instinctual ways, is it no suprise that all these conspiracy theories about aliens amongst us exist in what is supposed to be an educated world? Lets face it, in my area, people who have spent twelve years of their childhood lives (or more) at school still behave like boisterous chimpanzees.
     
    Somehow I suspect that intelligent peace loving aliens wouldn't be seen dead trying to discuss intellectual matters with the average human. More to the point, I suspect those peace loving aliens are looking up at the night sky on some distant world and wondering if there's intelligent life out there, just like us. Keep looking guys, we're all too busy arguing about where to put the fence and whether you're going to invade us.
     
    Dog Heads of the Week
    It has become the stuff of urban legend that the American authorities have 'covered up' UFO activity and that the infamous Project Blue Book was nothing more than a feint to distract the public from the 'real' investigation. All this talk of 'Greys' and 'Men In Black' is exactly the sort Dog-Headed nonsense we were dealing with seven hundred years ago. I can safely dismiss those urban legends because I have discovered the truth. I can't tell you of course because the government will assassinate me if I divulge that. Wow, this conspiracy stuff is easy....
  14. caldrail
    On a normal working day, our local high street is busy. Two lanes of cars jostling for position between parked vehicles and the intermittent movement of buses. Pedestrians bringing the whole thing to a temporary halt on crossings, shoppers carrying heaps of plastic bags, queuing at ATM's, or simply standing around at bus stops for the next smoke belching leviathan to appear.
     
    On a Sunday, the same street is empty. A few moslems walking to their local mosque but otherwise you wouldn't know the street was used. What's worse is the number of shops and businesses closed for business. I can see at least two more, whitewashed windows and 'To Let' signs proliferating.
     
    There's two trains of thought on this issue. On the one hand the governmnt keep telling us that the recovery is going to happen next year, whilst other financial experts tell us it's going be worse than we think. I don't have to think aout about - I can see how well business is doing in Swindon. On the plus side the recent announcement of the railway electrification program means that Swindons economy will receive a boost. I suppose that's a good thing, but will that provide any lasting effect? After ll, as I've discovered myself recently, shrinking incomes and rising prices mean that fewer people can afford train tickets. Unless, of course, you want to ride the 'gravy-train'.
     
    You would think that the news coverage of recent scandals would deter such fraud and deceit, but no, it gets worse, as we discover one Minister of Parliament secured a home for her daughter at public expense. I suspect though that her fortunes have just suffered a downturn too.
     
    On the Plus Side of the Week
    The future of Coate Water has been in doubt. It's a reservoir built to service the canals of the eighteenth century and now serves as a local beauty spot and nature reserve. Developers however anted to build a university campus next door and homes on the farmland between the lake and the M4 motorway.
     
    I viewed that prospect with dread. Coate Water has a peaceful air about it due to it's position on the edge of town, but once enveloped by housing estates you can imagine the wrack and ruin that will befall it. Thankfully the enquiry over Coate Waters future has decided that the housing development will not go ahead. Phew. There is of course Swindons much debated eastern development still to go ahead and that will get us through the dowbnturn with jobs for builders and so forth.
     
    There is something I don't get though. It's all very well claiming that building new houses will get us through the bad times (a common government mantra) but how does that benefit me? What I know about building houses can be written on the head of a six inch nail, and affording one of those new shoebox properties isn't possible. Does having hundreds of new houses automatically generate new jobs for their occiupants? Seems a bit unlikely.
     
    And when the builders have finished, what then? Do they go through a downturn too? Or shall we expect another attempt to develope the area around Coate Water at a later date?
  15. caldrail

    Dealing With Repairs

    By caldrail,

    There was a time when music store assistants smiled when I entered their shop. That was back in the eighties of course, when money was easily had and quickly spent, and a time when we were more prosperous even if we didn't know or felt it so. Whereas once all I seemed to do was buy things, all I seem to do now is repair things, or rather pay someone else to.
     
    Last night I got the call from the music store to tell me my latest repair job was ready for collection. That particular box of tricks is getting old in terms of consumer electronics, so much so that the gentleman who repaired it for me had to get the part made to order because they don't have any left. The pleasant suprise is that the process only took a week. Perhaps in a time of economic downturn and short order books, the company tasked to recreate the broken part was only too glad to find something for an employee to do for ten minutes. Would that repair have happened so quickly in the eighties? With order books so full of large quantity runs for important clients?
     
    I too have been making some repairs. My PC is working reliably now - albeit a little slower. The parts that were causing the failures have been identified and removed. I find that repair work can be quite satisfying. There really is a genuine warm glow when the machine bursts into life after the daunting and detailed work to rebuild it has been completed successfully. I wonder if surgeons feel the same about their patients? I imagine so. There is an obvious parallel. Sometimes I think about those old cars they find in barns, held together by rust and bird droppings. Or those old World War Two aeroplanes they sometimes find in woods or muddy holes. There are people who can take those corroded piles of tangled metal and turn them back into working machines every bit as shiney and perfect as the day they left the factory gate. The patience and craftmanship of that kind of repair is simply stunning.
     
    What drives us to do that? In many cases, it isn't necessary to have those machines work again. We have better and more reliable cars now, and World War Two aeroplanes can be a little intimidating and dangerous to operate. Perhaps part of it is the history, that indefinable connection with ghosts of the previous operators? Or is it the machine themselves? Do they really have some kind of presence by virtue of the manufacture and usage they once had?
     
    When I collect my box of tricks today I shall wonder why it's so important to me. Partly familiarity I guess. I know the quirks and details of its operation. Like an old friend, it became a partner of my music creation. Ah.... Now there is the answer. It's the act of creation that is so deeply embedded in our subconcious and the reason we labour so hard sometimes to restore inanimate machinery to working order.
     
    Well thank you music store person. I'm happy my box of tricks is working again like its maker intended. It must be so satisfying to see contented customers and I can see why you smile... What?.... Oh yes.... I nearly forgot, how much do I owe you?... Really?.... Ahhhh.....
     
    Good Deal of the Week
    I popped into the local computer repair shop and asked the people behind the counter what the exact name of the malfunctioning part was that I held up to their discerning gaze. They recognised it instantly, gave some useful info, and told me not to bother replacing it. Those things are old technology, rare, and expensive they said.
     
    Checking on the internet I was forced to agree. Replacing the part wasn't going to be cheap. As chance would have it I found an American dealer who was quite happy to export the necessary item to our shores for a price that seemed a bargain. A little suspicious at first, I checked the manufacturer and specifications, and all seemed in order. With exchange rates the way they are, I ordered the part for around half the cost of something similar in Britain.
     
    Will the part arrive on time? Will the part arrive intact? Will I curse and sweat trying to make it fit? Will it make my PC run at full speed again? I must admit, if I manage a better repair than the qualified technicians down the road, then I really will have something to smile about.
     
     
     
  16. caldrail

    Foiled Again

    By caldrail,

    The plan was to head for the hills and spend the day wearing myself out on the ridges of the Marlborough Downs. On the way I took it into my head to investigate a corner of the local countryside I'd never strayed into before. The grass was incredibly thick. The blades were almost six feet long, though not standing upright, growing sideways in thick layers of the stuff. I've never seen anything like that in England before.
     
    After ten minutes of wading through that lot, I was knackered. It was like wading through syrup. Worst of all, I felt a twinge from an old injury. That had happened when I was out hiking once before. Descending a plank-reinforced stairway in a local wood, I slipped and stretched my right leg pretty badly. I'd been unable to walk for five minutes and at the time I was wondering how I was going to get out that predicament. Even today, there's an area of my leg that remains numb although the muscle works well enough.
     
    With the weight of my pack very much in mind I decided a long climb onto the Downs was asking a bit much. Discretion is the better part of valour, so it was back home. It took longer than ten minutes.
     
    Foiled Again
    Since the dawn of time (I love that phrase) we humans have observed astronomical phenomena and wondered at its mysterious magic. There are times when the night sky is such a seductive canvas upon which nature has prepared a masterpiee for us. I've always had an interest in cosmology and for me being able to see these things happen is something I long for. However, time and again I hear of these things after the event. Or, more usually, the weather is lousy and observation is pointless. Some years back we had a full eclipse of the sun, a very rare event in Britain, and the whole thing was masked by cloud.
     
    Last night it was the return of the Perseids, fragments of a comets tail burning up as it enters Earths atmosphere. And as expected the skies of southern England were obscured by grey clag. Foiled again.
     
  17. caldrail

    Unsafe Seas

    By caldrail,

    As shocking as it is, it seems that piracy is becoming more commonplace again. Never mind the brazen Somali's and their multi-million dollar ransom demands, now we have ships boarded in the English Channel, one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world and right on our own doorstep.
     
    Noticeably during the Cold War piracy wasn't an issue, what with naval vessels everywhere and so forth. The reduction of military ships since has made itself felt, and pirates now believe they are safe to conduct these operations without risk of being blown out of the water.
    The humourous comparisons with pirates of swashbuckling days is way off. Pirates back then were larcenous killers and many of the same personality types will be the ones in inflatable boats carrying AK47's. It isn't much different is it?
     
    Bye For Now
    Well it's time to log off. I'm heading for the hills with my backpack full of those essential survival items you'll never need until you don't bring them. The weather is cloudy, dry, and without the hot sun making life unbearable, it should be a good walk.
  18. caldrail

    The Good Fight

    By caldrail,

    The plumbers turned up at the door last night. "We need to check for a leak in your bathroom." One boldly announced, "'Cos we cut a hole in the downstairs ceiling and the waters coming from upstairs."
     
    I had visions of a domestic disaster looming as these people disassembled my home in the hunt for a few drops of water. Two of them bounded upstairs and proceeding to dismantle the bathroom as expected. One brought his young duaghter along. Thankfully she was well behaved and was more concerned with making silly noises with her crisp packet than help daddy destroy my home.
     
    The two men ripped open pipes, meddled with taps, threw aside a length of mottled copper tubing, and heriocally found the leak. They fitted a brand new shining stainless steel hose thingy and lo and behold, the job was done. They announced they had succeeded, beaming with pride and delight.
     
    I was happy too. Well done lads. Yeah yeah that noise funny.... Seesh....
     
    Haven of Evil
    It seems Britain isn't doing enough to bring war criminals to justice leaving MP's in a very derisive mood over our governments plans to extend such actions. Part of me worries about this though. War crime is pretty much in the eye of the beholder. As much as I would prefer to see warfare conducted in a more gentlemanly or chivalrous manner, it simply isn't going to happen like that. Human beings are both crafty and nasty, and if they see an advantage one of them will take it, whatever the human cost, to achieve their objective.
     
    There are those who believe all soldiers are war criminals by definition. I'm not one of them, and I do take pride that Britains armed forces conduct their gritty business in the generally competent and professional manner that they do. But of course, inevitably there comes a point where an individuals actions cross the line from necessity to something much worse.
     
    There are those for instance who point at 'Bomber' Harris and claim his campaign to bomb Germany was a war crime. He himself declared that it was a plan others had criticised but give it a chance because it's never been tried before. He was therefore attempting to find an advantage in the war against Nazi Germany, a regime that had bombed civilian targets from the start. I don't believe for one moment he derived pleasure from that decision - it was a time when Britain faced potential extinction, so it was either that or give up. There wasn't any real or practical alternative at that time, and of course the decision to drop two atomic bombs on Japan is a terrifying concept but one designed to save the countless lives of American servicemen in a lengthy invasion of the Japanese homeland.
     
    They say history is written by the victors. That's true, but it's also reviewed by hindsight. Now whilst there may well be 'war criminals' as defined by the United Nations at large in Britain, is this hullabaloo a genuine call for justice or merely a convenient cause to lambast an ailing government?
  19. caldrail

    More Monday Blues

    By caldrail,

    Monday morning... Usually the Monday Blues are associated with dragging yourself out of bed to go to work, but since I'm unemployed, you'd think that wouldn't apply to me. Oh but it does. For today is my Signing On Day, my fortnightly ritual aimed at convincing the authorities that I've something toward getting a job thus entitling me to receive my meagre handout from the government. Typically for a Monday the good weather has vanished with the weekend. It's damp and grey out there. What a miserable day. Oh well, never mind, time to haul my begging bowl down the road.
     
    Having gotten out of bed and made it to the office on time, the lady behind the desk asked me which job I was interested in, showing me a list of potential vacancies on her swivelling monitor screen. There were two jobs on offer. The first was in another town. To be honest, a four hour walk to walk every morning isn't really what I had in mind as a rewarding career opportunity.
     
    So.... Lets think about this.... Which job offer should I consider? How about the other one? It was one of those office jobs you see advertised that ask for people with extensive in some obscure part of Microsoft Office. No doubt they're looking for people with that mature, professional outlook you see in television adverts, and want to exclude non-droids like me.
     
    "Do you have that experience?" The lady behind the desk asked me.
     
    Err... No.... But what the hey, a vacancy is a job I haven't done yet. At least I think that was the saying... Yep, I'll apply for that.
     
    "What's the point of applying?" She asked, somewhat confused by my strange prediliction for not making excuses for not finding work, "You don't have the experience they're asking for. There's no point applying for a job you're not qualified for."
     
    Well you see, it doesn't matter. If by some miracle I get the job, brilliant. If not, I include a letter and CV asking them if they do have a job I'm qualified for. She then started printing off bits of paper. We chatted about 'long term job search goals' and so forth before she asked me if I wanted to apply for that job she'd pointed out. I sort of shrugged. Oh go on then.
     
    "I thought you wanted to apply for that job?" She asked as if emotionally hurt by my lack of enthusiasm.
     
    Well you've put me off now!
     
    Gripe of the Week
    The disappointing news for British foreign policy is that the war in Afghanistan might take another forty years to win, according to one senior officer. I have a similar problem with my plumbing.
     
    Tradesmen are a different species. They have their own language, their own rules and regulations, and have absolutely no sense of time whatsoever. You might have guessed why by now.
     
    I had a text message on my mobile this morning, sent very early this morning, from a tradesman who wants to get into my home to check for water leaks again. I phoned him back and the cheerful character arranged to be let in this afternoon. I'm still waitining... ...No I'm not. I've given up. It's evening now and so I'll pop down to the library to finish off my daily doings before they close for the night. It's only a five minute walk there, up the stairs, check for a free computer and log on. A quick cracking of the knuckles, and lets begin typing....
     
    Oh hang on, somebody's ringing my phone...
     
  20. caldrail

    A Very Human Failing

    By caldrail,

    The news last night had a breaking story of a mid air collision between a light aeroplane and a helicopter over the Hudson River, resulting in the tragic deaths of nine people. How? With the entire sky to fly through, how is it that two aircraft can collide like that? The truth is that it's all too easy.
     
    In the earliest days of commercial flying, just after the First World War, a new regulation to pass on the right was brought in to prevent head on collisions when following linear features like railway lines. Even today, with extensive navigation aids and radar services available even to the common private pilot should he request it, people still bump into each other and the skies are not a forgiving enviroment.
     
    One way to look at this problem is to see the need for human beings to travel in certain directions when going from place to place in an aeroplane, machines that can't realistically take off and land anywhere thus always move from airport to airport, plus the human need to follow landmarks to find their way around. There is some truth to that. However, the answer is much simpler and much more basic....
     
    You're on a Collision Course!
    I was flying east on my way home to Thruxton airfield. The approach, as was my usual practice, was to fly at fifteen hundred feet both for convenience and to comply with airspace restrictions. Cloud cover was total and it obscured the blue sky above me at something like three thousand feet - a fairly ordinary occurence for British skies.
     
    I'd already contacted the airfield so they knew I was inbound. Then they made an urgent call to me... "Charlie Uniform, Boscombe Radar tell us there's an aeroplane ahead of you and on a converging course. Do you have visual?"
     
    No, I didn't. Aircraft are tiny little specks at a distance and looking over the instrument panel I could see nothing out there. I acknowledged the warning, and turned five degrees to the right as a precaution. A few moments there he was, a small single seater about a quarter of a mile away down on my left. It must have looked very different to the radar operator at Boscombe.
     
    Have You Seen This?
    Back in the days when I was learning to fly I was heading north after a visit to Shoreham on the south coast. My flying instructor, who was a veteran of World War Two (He'd flown with Bomber Command throughout the war), calmly asked me if I'd seen this?
     
    Hmm? What? With a rush of engine and propellor noise a civilian owned Bulldog trainer pulled up sharply to my right. No, I hadn't seen it. I suspect my instructor hadn't either, but it was me at the controls. Lesson learned.
     
    Where Did He Come From?
    Part of the pleasure I derived from flying aeroplanes was taking friends and workmates along for the ride. Most had never flown in light aircraft before. Time and again they were suprised by the experience, and most genuinely enjoyed it. On one particular flight I decided to demonstrate a few things along the way. It made things interesting for them but also for me too, allowing me to practise skills that would otherwise wither.
     
    Okay, I said, now I'm going to stall the aeroplane.
     
    "What?" Asked my passenger with some concern, "You're going to stop the engine?"
     
    No not the engine... I'm going to stop the aeroplane from flying. He stared at me in disbelief. After a reassuring chuckle I looked around for any aircraft in the area and satisfied the sky was empty, I throttled back, lifted the nose a little, and waited for the aeroplane to slow down.
     
    The controls were getting lighter... The noise of flying had all but vanished.... There's the stall warner, warbling in a hesitant shrill tone..... And there we go! The aeroplanes nose fell forward (assisted by me it must be said - safety first) and the little Cessna began to start flying again.
     
    Then I saw the Piper Arrow travelling away to my right. Ye gods that was close! Where did he come from? Strictly speaking I'd had the right of way, so to pass that close to me was poor airmanship, but then it occured to me that for whatever reason, he hadn't seen me any more than I'd noticed him.
     
  21. caldrail

    Old Aeroplanes

    By caldrail,

    Despite the threat of heavy rain it looks like this years RIAT airshow at nearby Fairford will go ahead. It's a huge and popular event. Ticket admittance only this year just in case they need to reimburse everyone. I don't much like fariford as a flying display. The prospect of seeing lots of aircraft you can see every day of the week doesn't appeal, especially since you have to pay a heavy ticket entry and face aggravation on the roads getting in and out. But to anyone whio is going there, I hope the show is a good one.
     
    Musing About Museums
    I wrote this back in 2004, but given the the theme of this post I thought it was worth repeating...
     
    Yesterday I got the opportunity to visit the RAF Museum at Hendon. It was an interesting visit. To wander around and see these aeroplanes preserved is a curious thing when you realise that most of them were once considered state-of-the-art military hardware even if only for a short while, and that young men were asked to risk their lives operating these machines.
     
    Although the museum has to be congratulated for doing a great job in presenting their displays, I could not help but feel saddened by it. Why? The answer of course is that I visited a mausoleum. A graveyard. These aircraft were built to fly. Now they're stuffed and put behind glass like dead animals.
     
    Something important has been lost. The exhaust stains, paint rubbed away from edges, the sound of mechanics at work, the banter of competitive aviators, the reluctant wheeze of an aero engine starting up , the smell of hot oil, burnt metal, fuel , cordite, leather, grease, sweat, and that sudden growl and rumble of a flypast.
     
    There are places that preserve some of these things, like Shuttleworth, Duxford, or the Confederate Air Force (whatever they call it these days) by operating these old warbirds. Thats great... although I think the demands of showbusiness have sanitised it somewhat. But none of these preserve an essential quality. That elusive atmosphere of men about to go to war.
     
    That Spitfire Sound
    Many years ago I was out walking my dog along the old railway line. It was a pleasant day out in the countryside and the view across the valley was always a refreshing change from urban life. Then I heard an aeroplane behind me. A low, rich droning sound that immediately sparked some recognition. That's a Merlin engine! I was right. The restored spitfire flew directly ioverhead travelling west.
     
    It's funny how engine noise has a character. The moving parts and exhaust stack form a symphony all of their own. For small engines the sound is often nasty and high pitched. But those old aero engines are something else. It's an interesting fact that of the all the complaints about aircraft noise generated by those townies silly enough to move house next to an operating airfield, it's the World War Two vintage planes that get the least. Twenty eight litres of Rolls Royce Merlin has a satisfying rumble overlaid by a sandy propellor noise that really does stir something inside you.
     
    Well, at least it stirs something in me. That's what I want from an air display. To see and hear something I can't get anywhere else. For a few hours, I want to be in a past age and witness something fantastic - old aeroplanes flying again.
  22. caldrail

    Out of Pocket

    By caldrail,

    Can you trust statistics? Anyone who watches the tv news or reads the papers every morning is bombarded with facts and figures, most of which are selected to prove a point. As a schoolkid I once had a maths leasson that illustrated how the display of statistics can affect your perception of the result.
     
    The latest statistics about crime are in the news. Murders are down by 17% to a twenty year low, despite the shock horror stories about knife wielding kids stabbing crowds of teachers to death. What is on the rise, according to the figures quoted, are burglaries, shoplifting, and pickpocketing.
     
    There's an internet cafe not far from where I live. I don't go there too often, there are cheaper ways to log on, but last night the need to access the internet cropped up and the library was shut. The owner pointed me to a screen beside the aisle and during my hour of surfing the world wide web, one of the other customers nipped out fairly sharpish. Didn't think too much of it at the time. I did later when I discovered a five pound note had left the confines of my pocket. I'm beginning to trust statistics a whole lot more.
     
    Software of the Week
    My latest experiment in the world of computing is a utility I picked up from the internet. It's a freeware text editor specially designed for story writers, and whilst the interface is a little dry and unwelcoming, it does the job well enough. What I discovered by chance though is that it can access a speech engine, so I can have my work read back to me by a virtual Steven Hawking.
     
    Unfortunately for some reason "Microsoft Sam" doesn't record any sound on my system so I'll have to spare you a recording of the first two paragraphs of my epic science fiction tale... Hope you're not too disappointed...
     
  23. caldrail

    Tough Times

    By caldrail,

    For the third day in a row, the weather is gloriously sunny. A little bit chilly first thing, but you'd expect that, and without doubt it's going to get somewhat warmer later this afternoon. Time then to enjoy a hike into the English countryside? I think so, especially after my last signing-on at the Job Centre. I could do with a break.
     
    I suppose from time to time they get suspicious. They're used to people who claim for no other reason thatn to avoid doing anything else. Unfortunately, I do make a moderate and consistent effort to find work, which means the otherwise pleasant woman across the desk has gotten a little curious about my jobseeker record. This last time she was replaced by another woman, a matronly dragon of a claims advisor, who took the record books I had with me and promptly 'lost' them. She then interrogated me about my efforts and clearly had no intention of believing a single word I said to her.
     
    That sort of thing, for me at least, is deeply annoying and de-motivating. What's the point of filling in these books (as they require me to do) and then discard them in such a casual manner? For one thing, it destroys trust, and creates an adversarial atmosphere. This wasn't the first time they've done this sort of thing and from this moment on, I'm writing out a copy of my job search record before I go in. They still won't believe me, but all the same, at least I won't have to put up with that sort of humiliation and pressure.
     
    Science in Farming
    I was chatting to guy the other day who lives out in the countryside. He's lost interest in farming seeing as cereal production is so variable and that dairy farming can't compete in today's market. His father is of course a little upset about that because understandably farming is still very much a family concern for many. Out of curiosity, I asked him about driving tractors, seeing I've never been near one. He tells me it's all science now. Tractors are guided by GPS and all you do is input the co-ordinates of the field you want to drive up and down over. Still, just in case the farmer hasn't quite caught up with the twenty-first century, the makers considerately provide markings to show the driver which way round the throttle is fitted. Rabbit and tortoise.
     
  24. caldrail
    Today is another gloriously sunny day. Clear blue skies, which oddly enough we don't see too often in summer. Sunday mornings tend to be quiet. All the yobboes from last night have found somewhere to sleep off last nights slanging match. Judging from the intermittent sirens out in the street, one or two had help finding it. Aside from that, the steady stream of moslems and sikhs walking to their places of worship add an exotic air to what is, after all, rainy old Swindon.
     
    Silliness
    I see the Spice Girls are threatening to regroup for another attempt at extracting cash from misguided fans. Rumours have spread of a show at the World Cup but that's been dismissed as 'silly' by band member Melanie. She says they're getting together for other reasons. Money? Perhaps? Or do they actually like each other after all?
     
    Scientific Research of the Week
    Sometimes the announcements of researchers beggar belief. Get this one... 'Optimism' hampers weight loss - Being too optimistic may hamper attempts to lose weight.
     
    It seems that people who are happy and fat tend to respond less well to slimming programmes, according to psychologists. Well there you are. Proof that science is useful. If you want to lose weight, be miserable.
     
    I also notice that naval patrols off the Horn of Africa are quelling the recent outbreak of piracy. That's going to make some Somali's miserable. Looks like they're going to get thinner too.
     
    Spider Update of he Week
    Now that it's autumn, the early mornings are a bit chilly. Cars coated with dew. Not suprisingly, so are spider webs, and at this time of year their efforts are clearly visible. Some are extraordinary, spanning huge gaps, but little sign of critters awaiting their doom. Maybe they have bigger prey in mind?
  25. caldrail

    Get Out Of Our Way

    By caldrail,

    Some years ago I wrote a piece on another site condemning the European Union as a dictatorship in the making. Not necessarily because it is at the moment, so to speak, but because its construction lays the groundwork for those those wishing to rule without accountability.
     
    I had said that Ireland would be forced to ratify the Treaty of Lisbon regardless of their previous vote - as the recent pressure on them demonstrates. There was also an interesting letter in the local paper this morning from a gentleman who clearly (and understandably) supports the UK Independence Party, in which he focuses attention on clauses in the Treaty of Lisbon that effectively remove any right to withdraw from its membership or rulings after a certain date. Thats a disquietening thought.
     
    I was pleased to seee however that German judges have ruled against the European Union, saying in effect that national member states have the right to decide their own affairs and that the European Union does not legally impose its own constitution over them. Sadly, the reality is that the power brokers in Europe want their dictatorship and will continue to build their political ideal at our expense.
     
    I don't remember who said it, but an observant man once declared that "All that is required for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing". Here though is the problem. What can a good man do? If he attempts anything proactive, he runs the risk of breaking the law, or perhaps even worse, imposing his own views on people who don't agree with him. Europe has had some glaring examples of such political folly within living memory, and whether we agree with the European Union or not, it is happening here, only this time it's being set up behind closed doors so good men don't notice.
     
    More Town of the Week
    It seems our neighbouring town is getting tired of the media attention. The headline in the local paper this morning is Please Leave Us Alone. Of course the civic leaders are complaining about the invasive presence of media crews every time fallen servicemen are repatriated, but I also notice that not only our media-hungry Prime Minister is praising the town and it's people - David Cameron, his opposition rival, has done so too.
     
    Last Night Outside My Home
    I couldn't help it. The monotonous self imposed diet of mine has finally reached levels of culinary boredom I wouldn't wish on a prison inmate. I'd had enough. So, without wishing to spend much cash, I popped across the road to the kebab shop and paid for a box of chips (that's fries for anyone who who hasn't experienced english cuisine). Small change, and a welcome relief from bread and water.
     
    I was about to cross the road when two cars trundled down the hill, otherwise empty of traffic at that late hour, at slow speed. The car behind carried two young ladies, and the driver blasted her horn at the car blocking her way. I see. It's after dark, the horn is being used abusively, and she's driving too close to the car in front.
     
    She stayed two feet behind the other car all the way down the hill. Why didn't she simply overtake? It was safe to do so even at legal road speeds. No, that wasn't good enough. She wanted the car in front to move out of her way. What an attitude!
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