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caldrail

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  1. caldrail

    England Expects

    By caldrail,

    ...Once more unto the rain, dear friends, once more...
    ... Those who were not here shall hold their dryness cheap...
    From William Shakespeare's play Henry The Absolutely Soaking Wet Fifth
     
    Britain has a problem. As much as we like to discuss our weather, we seem to have rather a lot of it right now. So much so that hordes of BBC journalist more used to comnfortable studio newsdesks are now presenting news and views live from those areas of Britain unfortunate enough to be anywhere near a large river. I can't help thinking the BBC are trying their best to convince that our license fee is value for money or that the flooding in the Somerset Levels is something we haven't already heard about.
     
    Okay, Britain is a bit under the weather right now, but come on BBC! Cameron has already said there's no limit to the amount of money he will spend drying Britain out, even if his cabinet deny blank cheques are available or that unemployed people like me are going to have to fund relief efforts on the Somerset Levels sooner or later.
     
    Sky News is more concerned with impending Scottish independence and the revelation they can't keep the English chequebook, plus a controversy at the Sochi Winter Olympics. Russia Today talks about riots in Venezuela, Ithe release of Iraqi prisoners agaijst American advice, and of course the stream of Russian victories at Sochi. But Al Jazeerah walks away with the prize for reporting Korean squabbling, Turkish squabbles, squabbles in Kenya, attempted coups in Libya, unrest in Iraq, Belgian euthenasia, the inprisonment of Al Jazeerah journalists in Egypt, and for ignoring Sochi altogether.
     
    I breathe a sigh of relief when the adverts pop up. Then I discover that Africa doesn't have enough water to go around and would I mind paying a meagre sum to supply one person with water that isn't full of urine, faeces, bugs, and little children playing. Sorry. have a television license fee to pay for.
     
    Job Interview Of The Week
    Applying for jobs online is easy most of the time. Choose a vacancy and click on 'Apply'. job done. Sometimes however the unthinkable happens and someone notices that pweople are applying for these jobs.
     
    That hapened to me recently which was very unexpected. Normally I get rejected or forgotten completely. The mistake I made of course was discovering the interview I'd agreed to attend was not in my home town, but miles away, out there, in the wilds of Darkest Wiltshire. So I discussed the problem with the employer and we agreed it was sensible not to proceed.
     
    Unfortunately England Expects That Every Jobseeker Shall Do His Duty, and thus the Job Centre, as soon as they found out, decided I had committed heresy. "We can stop your money if refuse an interview" My claims advisor advised me. I hadn't refused it.All I did was... it was no use. The Job Centre decided I was in the wrong and so I had to phone the employer and ask them very nicely if they wouldn't mind letting me attend the interview after all. They said yes.
     
    First the interview was postponed until the following week. Then I was asked if it was possible to come in later during the afernoon instead, because the company was having a problem with suppliers. Then finally, after my miserable bus journey and a walk through some town on the edge of civilisation, I was within a few hundred yards of the employers premises. Just a few more yards... Almost there... Oh hello. my phone is rininging.... Interview postponed until next week
     
    NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
     
    Right then. My claims Advisor owes me
  2. caldrail

    Big H Says Hi...

    By caldrail,

    Who should I bump into today, but AS. This guy is reliable, a good worker, and a good communicator. Ok, he likes his tea breaks, but at least he does something useful in-between conversations. He used to work for SB in the Hangar, now he works for our new host company, and a lot happier he is too.
     
    Thing is, AS is annoyed at Big H, who sent a text message on his mobile phone to the effect that he was in the Hangar.
     
    Then he sent a text message to tell AS he was working in the office.
     
    Then he sent a message to tell AS saying he was burning his old clock cards.
     
    Then he sent another text message. And another. And Another. And so on. Twenty five messages an hour.
     
    AS took a break, got in his car, drove over to the Hangar, found Big H, and told him to stop it, before returning to work at peace with the world. It appears Big H is keeping the market for mobile phones very healthy indeed. The americans can rest easy however. Big H has been denied entry. Not only does he like keeping people informed about current events in the Hangar, he also has a fondness for matches. Now they tell me.
     
    Public Performance of the Week
     
    As is typical of my car, it decided it didn't want to speak to me anymore and jammed the drivers side door again. This time right in front of the gatehouse and the security cameras. Squeezing in through the passenger side door is definitely the way to make an impression, don't you think? Despite another public performance from yours truly, YouTube still hasn't turned me into a superstar. Life is so unfair...
  3. caldrail

    Whats In A Name?

    By caldrail,

    What is it about Christmas? All of a sudden the town center is full of people ambling about clogging up the pavement. Millions of them. They're everywhere. Where do these people come from? Is there a warehouse somewhere that stores them until the festive season? Are our motorways clogged every year by mass distribution of shoppers?
     
    Someone in town called out to me. I couldn't see who it was given the swarms of shoppers sweeping majestically across the road. She used my real name which is something increasingly rare these days. Omitting the usual taunts and insults, I've been called Gary, Paul, and Alan. UT of course has called me Alfie. At my previous job, there was a jovial woman of afro-carribean origin we shall know as Miss J, who for some unknown reason decided my name was Alfred, a name which stuck and became my nickname there. I asked Miss J why she called me that. She said - "You look like an Alfred". Ask a stupid question.
     
    So as usual, I enter the office to collect paperwork for the days stock check. "Sooooo.... Alfred..." She would say as soon as she spotted me, and then she would ask personal questions right in front of the assembled staff going about their business. Did I detect some interest here? I did indeed, and for the period of my stay there my boss, DS, considered me betrothed. Don't get me wrong, Miss J is a friendly sort, but you know how something raises hairs on the back of your neck? Ok, I've no reason to believe she's a cannibal, nor is she an axe-murderess, nor does she keep giant mutant spiders as pets. So why did DS smile mischievously whenever Miss J wiggled at me?
     
    Strange Goings On In Rushey Platt
    Up until now I always doubted Santa existed. Not any more. Today I spotted one of his minions, a green clad elf in a blue van, driving through Rushey Platt. I gave him a salute, and he returned a big smiley grin. Now I know. The North Pole is a clever ruse to put investigators off the scent. The real location of Santa's HQ is Rushey Platt. Ideally placed in central southern England with easy access to the motorway. I have a horrible feeling I once worked in his grotto without realising. It would explain a few things...
     
    STOP PRESS!!
    Santa has been spotted! Yes, its true, he was seen just now obtaining money from a hole in the wall machine. I knew I was right. That means he must have parked the sleigh somewhere near here.... But not at the car dealer with a Ferrari 360 in the rough part of town. Apparently I can come back when I've got
  4. caldrail
    Hello, I'm Caldrail, she isn't, and you're reading The Albion News Network (brought to you by International Portakabins - "We don't break windows").
     
    Todays headlines - Major logisitics company fail to deliver parcels.... Warehouse manager under investigation for failing to meet deadlines.... Security guard mocked for failing to send Caldrail to the right door.....Office girl sacked for failing....
     
    We'll have more on these stories later, but now, an important message from our sponsors...
     
    Hi... Have you ever wanted a Portakabin? Well, you can. Here at International Portakabins we deliver industrial accomodation to anywhere around the world just when you thought it was all going to end in catastrophic explosions. Our clean cut square jawed heroes will save the day at a price you can afford...
     
    In other news, Brittania is to be removed from british coinage. What?!!! How dare they?!!! A symbol of our defunct empire is to be consigned to the rubbish bin, another cornerstone of our heritage erased in our governments quest to rebuild Britain as a third world banana republic. How else can they get us to sign up for the United States of Europe? In order to become europeans they must first disassemble british patriotism. It must be said that british history isn't taught in schools anymore, and kids are educated to feel embarrased and dismissive of past achievements. Why do they want us to part of Europe? It gets their name in the history books. It'll all end in tears eventually. After all, this move toward a united europe is an unconcious effort to recreate the Roman Empire. Thing is, Europe cannot offer anything we don't already have, so thats another reason why Britain is being pulled apart bit by bit.
     
    Ban politicians. Vote Rushey Platt!
  5. caldrail

    Whoops!

    By caldrail,

    Industrial accidents happen. There's no denying that. I know of a guy who drove his forklift off the bay because he hadn't noticed the lorry had gone. There was a forklifter at one place I used to work who regularly smashed holes in the breezeblock wall because he reversed out without looking. There was another who broke off the sprinkler head and flooded the warehouse with brown sludgy water.
     
    There's a chap who works in our warehouse who thankfully doesn't work for us. He fell out of the back of a container not too long ago and is currently suing his employer for accident compensation. Now he's gone further by driving his forklift forward with the view obscured by a tall load. He ripped out one upright in the racks and can thank his luck there wasn't any heavy pallets in the racking above him. Accidents of course don't happen in this warehouse - thats the official line from our hosts - and as yet we don't have any word from them regarding this accident.
     
    It is worrying because the car manufacturer we share the new shed with have appropriated some floorspace for themselves, stacking stillages right next to where we relabel goods for transport. It doesn't make you feel safe and secure at all....
     
    Car Sale of the Week
    AD has decided to part with his little hatchback and phoned the trade paper when he got home from work. He was getting replies within half and hour, proof that selling your car via the internet can work. Between you and me though, I reckon it was the advert he had me design and print off that did it. The reason I know this to be the case is that AD never gives anyone else credit for anything...
     
    Community Initiative of the Week
    Free gigs? Outside the department store under that false plastic circus tent thing? Times have changed. Getting the local council to agree an open air performance in such a place back when I was a struggling local musician would have been another titanic struggle with officialdom. Actually, I think its a good move, an excellent way for young bands to showcase themselves to a wider audience. Now all the local council have to do is find bands who can actually play...
  6. caldrail

    Sad Obsessives

    By caldrail,

    Earlier this morning I opened my emails. As usual there was the usual collection of unsolicited and unwanted stuff from people I've never heard of and probably don't exist.
     
    Salvador Hale - Male Enhancement
    Hampus Showers - Arissa says I feel tight in her now
    Shan Spivey - Enter her with your throbbing manhood
    Grant Saunders - She loved my large manhood
    Abhijit Lukic - Non stop bedroom action
     
    And so on. Those were the polite titles too. Who sends all this rubbish? Does anyone seriously believe I want to look at *or*-mail like this? There's currently 156 emails unread in my bulk folder and its all stuff like this or worse. Whoever is sending this garbage - Give up. I'm not interested.
     
    There was a guy at the place I used to work for who regularly downloaded porno-images. Another chap had tons of jpegs on his work PC that showed women in various silly poses. Why do people enjoy this stuff? I just don't get it. Its a photograph, an image, and its not even real since its deliberately staged. I just cannot understand what there is to get excited about.
     
    Its an obsession with sex at the end of the day. These are people that boast about their sex lives but don't actually find anything fulfilling in it (if indeed their partners exist and actually bother with them). People who may well sneer at me slobber and grin over a few distasteful jpegs instead. You're way sadder than me, lads. Sorry, you just are.
  7. caldrail

    Truly Amazing

    By caldrail,

    Once I've finished my chores for the day the world is my oyster. A small one if I'm honest, but that's the trouble with living on benefits. So with an afternoon to kill, what should I do? Something creative? Prose, artwork, or music? You have to be in that mood. Play computer games? I just don't feel the inclination. Yes, you guessed it, I decided to watch television. Why, I don't know, I just sort of felt that way.
     
    Finally I settled on a channel called Quest. They occaisionally show some interesting programmes you wouldn't normally find elsewhere (You might want to guess why) but who could resist a program called A Plane Is Born? Not me. My passion for aeroplanes knows no limits and once aroused, I sat back in my seat, opened a can of drink, and vegetated for all I'm worth.
     
    The program follows a presenter's efforts to learn to fly and build his own aeroplane from a kit. Now that takes me back to those heady days in the nineties when flying was a reality for me. In my younger days I wanted to build my own aeroplane and I even naively designed one, at least as far as I was able to before I learned engineering at college.
     
    I watched the presenter cope with his first flying lessons. Does he know anything else to say except "Amazing!"? Foir me learning to fly was not a new experience. I'd flown in aeroplanes as an air cadet, including hands on control, mostly in De Havilland Chipmunks but also Slingsby Venture motor gliders. At a time when the dominant lads at school thought they were cool riding their very first noisy little moped, I was buzzing overhead in a military trainer.
     
    So for me learning to fly began with dusting off those teenage cobwebs. I learned to fly in a Cessna 150, an aeroplane lacking glamour and excitement, but one that was sturdy and even dependable most of the time. I don't ever remember saying "Amazing!" myself though I did smile in between getting told off for doing something dumb..Make no mistake, flying an aeroplane is a busy activity and not until you accumulate skill and experience does it all become second nature.
     
    I never did get the point of building an aeroplane. Membership of the Popular Flying Association, essential for correct inspection and certification of your project, taught me what I might be letting myself in for. Truth was, I could never afford it and had nowhere to complete my dream aeroplane. So I rented Cessna 150's instead. However, I did get to say "Amazing!". For that, I spent a total of five and a half hours flying a Beagle Pup Series 2, with the larger 150hp engine. Sweet. And after flying mostly bog basic trainers, it was pretty amazing. There you go.
     
    My Worst Ever Flying Nightmare
    It wasn't always amazing. Flying can sometimes throw problems at you that you didn't expect, and however difficult or frustrating it gets, you have no choiuce but to deal with it. Once, it was a nightmare. This happened when I was an air cadet on a gliding course at South Cerney. It was a no-win situation. I was being tested to destruction. That was my first experience ever of a stern military style instructor and I was gradually losing reach of my objective, a long glide back to the field, and worse still, my confidence that I could have done it without that withering disapproval from the right hand seat. That was the last time I flew motor gliders.
     
    My Bestest Ever Flying Experience
    Sometimes, when I didn't have to worry about whether an air traffic controller wanted to kill me, or worry about whether the British weather was plotting to kill me, or whether my flying was going to kill me, I got this feeling of... Well... I'm not sure how to describe it. There's an elation that you're flying, defying gravity, completely in charge of your own destiny, at liberty to travel anywhere you want, and despite the engine and propellor making a right old racket in front of you, you feel completely at ease. Peaceful. Content.
     
    Nothing, not even completing your stamp collection, relaxing after great sex with an attractive woman, or showing the world how a sports car should be driven, nothing else in the entire world makes you feel like that. Amazing.
  8. caldrail
    In Douglas Adams' Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy, Marvin the paranoid android moans and groans about intelligent doors, about how smug they are at completing their task of opening for their human masters. Well, he would groan even more at the doors to a local shopping mall. There's a three second delay between their sensors detecting your presence and deciding whether or not to allow you entry. Small boys pretending to be aeroplanes bounce off them in confusion. Adults trying to slip by get whacked as the door decides to close anyway. Sometimes the doors just stay there inert whilst you look an idiot in front of them.
     
    Doors? Don't talk to me about doors....
     
    Meanwhile, Back At The Brewery...
    The local newspaper dispkay the headline - Royals Visit Brewery.
     
    What an image. Her Majesty stumbling toward the limousine, crown askew, saying "What delightful brew... One is (hic).. quite light-headed.."
     
    Then again, perhaps after generations of governmental experience dating back to the Dark Ages, perhaps the Royals really can organise a booze-up in a brewery? Labour party please take notes...
     
    The Listening Party?
    Talking of the Labour Party, our Prime Minister appears to have had enough of the media reporting gleefully on fuel protests and has slapped a gagging order on them. It seems Gordon Brown has gotten fed up of listening already.
     
    Caldrails Guide To Political Polls
    Labour Party -
    Conservative Party -
    Liberal Democrats -
    Everyone Else -
  9. caldrail

    My Drag Coefficent

    By caldrail,

    What on earth is happening at the library? The day care centre children are quiet, well behaved, not singing tunelessly nor pretending to be aeroplanes. Everyone else is quiet too. AM hasn't whinged all morning. Everyone else is staring slack jawed at their emails.
     
    Well I'm not going to be so stationery. I've recently begun to jog. You know, that keep fit nonsense, although I should point out I jog outside the library, not in. Well I had to really, I'm getting a little tubby and being this aerodynamic isn't something I'm proud of. Its time to reduce my drag coefficient. Also its my age. I've reached that point where instinctively I stare into the mirror and wonder what happened to the great looking guy I used to know.
     
    Don't get me wrong. I'm not depressed about ageing, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. So, in order to do something positive, I'm going to jog. Mind you, given the hospital waiting lists in our time of revamped National Health Service, perhaps I ought to book an appointment now? And start saving up for it. This free national health service isn't cheap you know.
     
    President of the Week
    This of course goes to Robert Mugabe, who is so desperate that he arrested the opposition leader twice for having the temerity to campaign before the second vote for his office takes place. Clearly Mugabe has no intention of giving up power, and no ruse is too low in the quest to have his moustache immortalised as Zimbabwe's leader permanently. But I suppose with inflation at 100,000% he can't afford a shaver. Ooops, my mistake, he simply orders someone to do that for him.
  11. caldrail

    Camp Hell?

    By caldrail,

    Being unemployed is a bit of a wierd situation. You get paid for doing nothing and investigated to make sure you are. Then they get impatient because you're not doing anything.
     
    In reality of course you sign a Job-Seekers Agreement. It's a contract. You have to fulfill certain obligations before they can pay you benefits. That way people don't enjoy being unemployed and subliminally get the message that looking for work is a good idea. Now someone has touted the idea of 'boot camps' for the jobless.
     
    So, as I step off the coach at Camp Hell there's a black guy in a slouch hat, hand on hips, sizing up our merry band of misfits in the blistering heat of Wiltshire, England.
     
    "Awright..." He growls, "Welcome to Camp Hell. In the next six weeks aah will teach you to fill application forms, to post letters, to knock on doors. Aah kid you not people, in six weeks you will become fully qualified job seekers. There is no room for failures in mah job queue..."
     
    Yeah right.
     
    "What was that? Did aah hear you squeak? Gimmee twenty, Job-Seeker!" He yells, pointing at the mud.
     
    But its muddy
  12. caldrail
    Time to get on with my search for gainful employment. I think I'll phone Jobseekers Direct - its a happy friendly service to help idiots like me get a job by finding vacancies on their extensive database. After the usual identity checks the woman asked me what areas of employment I was interested in.
     
    Warehouse, distribution, logisitics.
     
    "We've got one vacancy for a warehouse supervisor.."
     
    North Swindon? Yes I've applied for that.
     
    "Well thats all we've got. Have you done any stock control?"
     
    Just a little bit. Go on, give me the details... She started to give an email address to send my CV. Then something twigged. That name! He's one of those managers who pushed me out the door at a previous job! Lets not bother with that one.
     
    "I see" She said slowly, "Ok, we'll try part time too."
     
    Eh? No, hang on...
     
    "There's a stockroom vacancy. You need to call in at Smartypants Ltd at the Designer Outlet to collect an application form. Do you know where that is?"
     
    Sigh. I can find it. Fine, thank you, thats all I need. Good grief, working for a retailer in a shopping mall... Don't they do long hours there?.... This does not bode well. Too late now. I've got to visit the sports center today so I'll drop in on Smartypants on the way home. Just in case it rains.
     
    It did. Heavy showers were predicted and sure enough the rain came pelting down. Sensibly I stayed under cover. An old woman didn't and wandered out into the car park, swivelling 180 degrees on the spot when she realised she was getting wet. It really was quite funny to watch. So was the hatchback driver going the wrong round the car park and failing to negotiate the corners at very low speed. Then a taxi driver drew up by the exit, decided he wasn't in the right position, then manoevered back and forth until he was satisfied his original position was correct after all. It must be the rain that does that to people. Anyway, I arrived at the Designer Outlet and wandered around until I found Smartypants Ltd, a retailer of clothes for the discerning young professional male. Which was pretty much what I didn't look like. But I stopped at the tills and enquired about getting an application form.
     
    "CALLING MANAGER TO FRONT DESK... MANAGER TO FRONT DESK PLEASE... He'll just be a minute Sir"
     
    Righto. I lean nonchanlantly against the desk and the manager comes around the corner ahead, a tall and very discernably smart young professional male. I hate bosses like that. They're always clicking their fingers at people and casually threatening termination of their employment if they don't run around like little servants. They never show any real leadership. Most of them never show any ability. As he approaches we both size each other up like gunfighters at the OK Corral. There's barely an introduction before he hands me a career application pack.
     
    It was a truly extraordinary document, a glossy colour brochure selling management careers, displaying teams of happy smiling management trainees whose prospects are now going to skyrocket to the point they can afford mortgages. I glanced through it with disbelief at the shear waste of quality cardboard. Noticing this, and assuming it was because I was unable to locate the actual forms neatly hidden in a pocket at the back, he very kindly pulled them out to show me.
     
    Thanks mate. You got a plastic bag for this? Its raining outside...
     
    "Oh yeah" He said, proceeding to rummage around behind the counter. Thank you kindly. Time to go.
     
    Initiative of the Week
    There's been a fair few stabbings in Britain of late, especially London, something we're not entirely used to and threatening to make our streets more dangerous than Los Angeles. So not suprisingly there's about to be some new measures to combat knife crime, and not a moment too soon, seeing as some people in Swindon have been using samurai swords to settle differences. Come to think of it, Swindon was also the place where one guy wandered into a police station with a Bren light machine gun some years ago. At least I had the sense to surrender mine to the police in the privacy of my own home...
  13. caldrail
    I read this mornings local paper with a smirk. It appears that a local club (the Lava Lounge) hasn't got a music license so under british law it cannot provide music for its customers without incurring a large fine - and they already have to pay more than
  14. caldrail

    Planet Alleyway

    By caldrail,

    And now on Channel UNRV, we go deep into the rainforest as Caldrail Attenborough presents Planet Alleyway...
     
    (Cue theme music and titles)
     
    Hello. I'm Caldrail Attenborough, and this is a typical back alleyway in the depths of the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire. In the next hour we'll looking at the rich variety of wildlife that exists in this remote corner of England, and hopefully, we'll discover some of the more exotic and reclusive creatures that live in Planet Alleyway.
     
    We enter the alleyway at the mouth of a gravel stream bed. The poor drainage means this canyon floods with every rainy season, and the eroded sandy bottom has some treachorous puddles. If you look carefullly under this hedge... yes... the discarded bin bags of the Great Lazy Ape. A nocturnal species who leave the spoil from their nesting sites in the brick terraced houses, probably those on the horizon just over there. Now we'll move upstream, onto the Asphalt Plain....
     
    This wilderness of asphalt is used by creatures inhabiting the brick terraces, and used on their migrations to watering holes every evening. Its a barren featurless waste, and we're going to have to be careful, because this region is home to the rare but carnivorous Garage Gorilla. Yes, there's one, patiently waiting his next meal in his inspection pit. I think we'll move on now, as he's spotted us and he looks a little angry at his privacy being disturbed....
     
    Now we move into the Alley Hinterland. The asphalt is giving way to a mud and grass canyon between the demolition site fence and the neglected back walls. The fence has traces of another species found here, the Grafitti Mouse, a shy and retiring creature that leaves these colourful territorial markers on any vertical surface it can find. These gaudy symbols tell all the young males who is in the area as they struggle for mating rights in their own imagination...
     
    Well, as you can see, I've penetrated the deepest region of the alleyway. Here, the detritus of alley life is at its thickest under the jungle canopy of nearby tree growth. The mud and grass is mixed with rubble, rusty metal, and if you look just, a pile of ash from a large fire, lit here by one of the alleyways most dangerous of species, the Firestarter Fox. They're only occaisional visitors to the alleyway, and are highly sought by authorities in this region....
     
    Now we descend the far side of the Alleyway, and the ground next to wall is thick with mud. Oh yes, look there... Now I have to talk in a whisper, because I don't want to startle the pack of schoolkids just around the corner... Wonderful aren't they? These are all young males, in beautiful hoody plumage, and yes, there! Two are preparing to light a cigarette! A natural ritual so rarely seen in the wild these days. We'll leave them in peace... Too late! A nearby Single Mum spots and chases the Schoolkids away, using her screaming voice to intimidate them. She's tending to her young, and protects them fiercely...
     
    Now we're at the far end of the Alleyway, a rugged landscape of discarded fridges and domestic furniture. We're going to have to move over now because two bull Bozo's are wandering toward us. These magnificent and obese creatures are easily angered, and have been known to bare their bottoms in threat displays, something I think we'll try to avoid at this close range.
     
    This has been just some of the bizarre wildlife that exists in this remote region of Swindon. Join me next week, when we travel to The Park, and investigate the grassy serengetti of our public spaces....
     
    (Fade to black, credits)
     
    Fire of the Week
    The local Firestarter Fox was on form. His impressive blaze blocked off the alley entirely, burning both the demolition site fence and the private gate opposite. Had to call the Fire Brigade on that one in the early hours of the morning. Might have to phone them to save Jeremy Clarkson too. Having conferred sainthood on a Swindon Councillor for switching off speed cameras, the enraged roman catholic church is preparing to burn him at the stake. Apparently the Eleventh Commandment of Tony Blairs Cool Religion is Thou Shalt Not Speed. As if we could afford the petrol to do so.
  15. caldrail
    Back in the sixties Gene Roddenberry sold an idea to a film studio for a tv series about 'A wagon train to the stars'. It was one of those simple and cheap concepts that studios loved at that time, and they weren't expecting anything more intellectually challenging than Lost In Space. Instead of Bonanza with ray guns, they got spikey ears, emotionless women, and a plot you actually needed to think about. That was quite a shock for the time.
     
    Now of course the original Star Trek is a much loved classic, however excrutiating Captain Kirks love life was or the persistent discovery of american civilisation on every second planet they visited. It still gets shown on tv today. Star Trek Next Generation had a real act to follow, and they all but trumped it. Deep Space Nine was slightly more of a star trek space opera, but by Voyager, things were getting a little tired, with every episode showing Captain Janeway staring in wonder at yet another example of Life as we never thought possible.
     
    Which brings me to an important point. This concept of life everywhere in incredibly diverse and unexpected forms is fiction. There's no reason to believe its possible other than optimism. After all, life on Earth evolved through a series of fortuitous circumstances that appear extremely rare in the universe.We have a stable sun, our planet is orbiting at just the right distance, with a moon that prevents our world becoming tidally locked, with an iron core that provides a protective magnetic field around us, and so forth. A typical class M planet then. There's a lot of those in Star Trek.
     
    Is Star Trek possible? A world government as the core of a federation of alien worlds, harmonious, progressive, advancing. And totally impossible, for no other reason than nature designed mankind to squabble. Sometimes you meet people you just can't get on with. The same unfortunately would be true of alien technological societies, which in Star Trek are all conveniently humanoid and roughly comparable in capability (apart from the Q, but these all powerful tricksters are little more than embodiements - is that the right word? - of mythological concepts, thus showing that our imaginations haven't really changed since the middle ages).
     
    In technological terms we only have a short window to achieve this progress, assuming that there is a way of travelling the vast distances between stars without the restriction of physical laws. We are consuming our planets resources and at some point, it really will become impossible to go anywhere else.
     
    On the other hand, Star Trek is all about optimism for the future, so having reduced trekkies around the world to uncontrollable rage or utter despair at the likely failure of their religion, lets all hope it can happen. Or better still, actually try to make it so, rather than squabbling and spending all our efforts in knocking each other down. Somehow, I think we'll still be fighting outside starport cantinas and dropping litter on distant worlds come what may.
     
    Star Trek Moment of the Week
    Wandering about the local beauty spots I passed a pair of single mums pushing their little infant-transporters (which I presume contained their offspring - I dread to look) and they casually gave their opinion of me to each other as I passed.
     
    "He's on a different planet"
     
    "Yeah"
     
    Cool. DS (Remember her?) once described me as Mr Spock, but now I'm actually walking the surface of another world. I could have told them that. I've been calling Swindon an alien world since I started this blog. However, lets not get angry. Remember the Prime Directive of Non-Interference? Go in peace, alien mothers. Please.
  16. caldrail

    Peace and Quiet

    By caldrail,

    Its all gone very quiet. Now the main library is hut while they move premises, I walk down to the sports centre and use their facilities. Strangely, it all seems very empty. The creche isn't huddled in a group by the window chanting nursery ryhmnes tunelessly. Kids aren't re-enacting the Battle of Britain.
     
    I know whats wrong. Its AM. Its been so long since I've seen him have a good whinge or stop the world because he can't send his emails. Good grief - don't tell me he's actually done what he said he was going to and leave our shores for South Africa?
     
    Careful AM - those zulus are tough hombres....
     
    Oh... No, I was wrong. There he is, buyng stuff at Sainsbury's supermarket. He seems very downtrodden these days. I wonder if one of those librarians finally had enough of him?
     
    Poodle of the Week
    Goes to that gentle natured animal that approached me wagging its tail and almost smiling in its canine warmth. You know, dogs have personalities too, and this little one was just fun. It looked up, wagged its tail even faster, I gave it a pet and I guess we were both happy. The owner apologised for the dogs intrusion into my world and I answered that I wasn't bothered, then I noticed the expression on the owners face change.
     
    The next thing I noticed was a warm wetness on my trouser leg. Fido was here.
  17. caldrail

    Getting Out Of Bed

    By caldrail,

    The doorbell rang early in the morning, or at least, it was early for me. In true jobless fashion I muttered a few curses and rolled over back to sleep. About an hour or two later I got up, and got ready for a hike in the local area. Down the stairs, pack on my back, out the door, down the alleyway and....
     
    I stopped short when I spotted the door to my car left wide open. The soft top had been cut with knife in three places, not as random vandalism, but with every intention of obtaining access to the vehicle. It was evident the thief had gone through every possible cubbyhole.
     
    In actual fact, I wasn't hugely upset by it. The real damage had already been done to my car some time ago. Thats why it was off the road permanently and contained nothing worth stealing. Given what happened with the police the last time, I wondered if it was really worth notifying them this time, but I suppose whoever did this might do the same to someone else, so I guess it was time to take a deep breath and phone them. They arranged to send a forensic investigator. She drove in from Marlborough and looked askance at my somewhat grimy corpse of a car. She sniffed around, shone a torch into dark corners, then told me it was hopeless. The car was wet after the soft-top was cut open, never mind the doors being left open in the rain, and she explained that her powders would only make a mess in the conditions, and that there little likeliehood of obtaining prints from cloth or textured plastic.
     
    Is it just me, or have I been cruelly misled by crime thrillers? Had there been a dead body involved, would the car have been hauled away and exposed to every possible scientific test to obtain evidence of the guilty party? Maybe, maybe not, but I guess a dead car doesn't qualify as time well spent. It turns out this time I'm not alone. On her way down into the car park, a garage mechanic stopped her to point out the six other cars that had been broken into equally carelessly recently. My neighbour stepped out of his back gate and sympathetically enquired if I'd lost anything. It was him knocking on my door earlier, and his car - unbeknown to me - had been broken into the week before.
     
    A lot of people are having their cars damaged in this area. Irs probably a solitary kid, too high on the excitment of becoming a crook to figure out which cars are actually worth breaking into. I ought to thank my neighbour for trying to let me know it had happened. Perhaps I should have gotten out of bed for all the difference it would have made. I can't help wondering if the police feel the same way.
     
    First Impressions of the Week
    He was a well built guy, in black casual clothes, with a subtle display of gold chains around his neck. I had no reason to talk to him other than I wanted a drink and he was standing in the way of the bar. This guy seemed sociable enough and I cracked some lame joke about nightclub bouncers.
     
    "I know bad people" He said. Oh? Really? Is this some sort of gangsta thing? He realised quite quickly I wasn't terrified. Normally with people who know bad people you have a bullet hole inserted somewhere on your person by now, so I figured I wasn't in any danger of that.
     
    "See this? know what this means?" He shoved a black and gold ring in my face. "Dis is da Freemasons. You know what the Freemasons are?"
     
    Yeah... Yeah I do.... But I totally missed the point of his gesture. He wandered away with his mobile phone. So I guess either he's a fake gangsta trying it on, or there's a contract out on my life. I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed.
  18. caldrail

    Live at the New Library

    By caldrail,

    Good afternoon readers, this is Caldrail, live at the grand opening of Swindons new library. I'm going to take you now inside this wonderful edifice and...
     
    "Are you with the children?"
     
    Huh? What? Do I look five years old? I've got grey hair for crying out loud.
     
    "Sorry Sir, library opens at two..."
     
    Two o'clock. Humph. Right. Well its back to the studio for news of Caldrails latest phone call with the police.
     
    Phone Call of the Week
    A message left by a policeman who said they'd got a result from the report of damage to my car. Woohoo. So I phoned them back this morning and the result is.... Well they haven't actually found anything, the crime is listed as unsolved, but they've managed to convince another policeman to look for a villain, believed young and irritating.
     
    New Library of the Week
    Hello again. yes its caldrail live at Swindons New Library. The place is heaving with people, most of whom look bemused, and if I can... just... squeeze through the crowd of camera toting journalists... Yeah same to you mate.... a computer, one of many located in and around the building. We understand this is a state of the art system, so lets log in and try my e-mail's....
     
    Aha. My emails are blocked courtesy of Swindon Borough Council. Internet security so tight you can't communicate. Well its back to the studio whilst we get this little glitch sorted....
  19. caldrail

    Broken Glass

    By caldrail,

    This morning I was walking up a street around the corner from where I live. Strewn with yellow and brown leaves, damp after last nights rainfall. It was also covered with broken glass in one place beside a car.
     
    Yes, the mystery car thief has struck again. Its hard to understand what he gains from this. Its entirely opportunistic, his targets are at random, and judging by the stuff left lying around the car I passed today, he simply isn't interested in what he finds. So is after anything specific? Apparently not. I actually start to wonder if he's doing it just to be anti-social, though it has to be said he did search my car fairly thoroughly.
     
    After all the vandalism thats been going on, the garage across the yard have left their external lights on all weekend, leaving me to sleep through a dull orange glow from my bedroom window. It must be said, the volume of people hurling taunts and insults in the small hours has decrased noticeably - along with an increased police presence I'd suspect.
     
    If only that were all. The alleyway beside the block of houses where I live has become a favourite dumping ground for someone. Mattresses and binbags regularly appear, and of course, so do broken bottles.
     
    To quote Blondie, they 'like the sound of breaking glass'.
     
    Breakage of the Week
    We all do it. In a moment of detached clumsiness we all drop things. Only this time, I didn't just drop it. The plate slid out of my hands like it was propelled by strange forces, scattering piled crockery and utensils waiting to be dried on my kitchen top before sliding to the floor and disassembling itself into random molecules. Then the dislodged stuff followed, and despite my heroic efforts to catch things, most ended up following the plate like inanimate lemmings.
     
    I definitely heard the sound of breaking glass. Don't like it.
  21. caldrail
    It all seems doom and gloom right now doesn't it? Gaza is being demolished, Russia is sulking over gas supply, high street stores are closing, businesses laying off workers, predictions of three million unemployed by next year. Even my blog is draped in despair these days. Well, I won't have it. So, in order to lighten the mood, for the first time in blog history I will now... *click* ... Huh?.... Who turned out the lights? Oh no, my PC is dying. All I've got left is a small blue dot on my monitor fading away to nothingness... yes, it's another electricity cut. The second in a week.
     
    Now somewhere in this house is a torch. Ok, I know I left my dinnerplate on the floor, so I don't want to step on that.... Something just fell on the carpet... Ah, my headphones. Negotiate the living room obstacles... Ouch. That was the coffee table.... At last, I've found the door. Now along the hallway, find the bedroom door and... *bump*... Found it. Somewhere in this stygian mess I call my bedroom is a torch... Aha! Got it!. Now downstairs and try the trip switches to avail. Back uopstairs and find my mobile phone... There it is... Now find a telephone number for the electricity company... I feel like James Bond, searching through paperwork in a filing cabinet by torchlight.... Number... Where's the number?.... Got it.
     
    "This number will be charged at your normal rate" Says a female computer. No kidding. And I thought phones were free. Come to think of it, why are automated reply services always female?
     
    "Please wait to speak to an operator." She said. I waited, and within ten seconds a human operator answered "Hello?"
     
    Hi. I've got a power outage.
     
    "I see sir. What registration is your car?"
     
    Pardon? Car registration? What do you need my car registration for?
     
    "You've called Fixit Rescue Service Sir."
     
    Groan. Wrong number. Sorry.... Try again Caldrail....
     
    Heart Warming Interlude
    An eight year old boy with an artifical leg has just been given custom made gloves to enable him to play football as a goalkeeper. Custom made by an international supplier of sportswear no less. It's a heartwarming story but unless the lad is given some thermal undies, I suspect he'll freeze to death waiting for his mates to kick the ball his way.
     
    Back to Rushey Platt
    Tell you what, lets try this number before my torch goes dead.... Hooray.... Mr Electricity was very polite and concerned that I wasn't going to freeze in the next hour whilst the repairman sped to my rescue. Is he kidding? I've been freezing to death for a week now.
     
    Diplomacy of the Week
    President Sarkozy, the secret identity of superhero Captain France, is telling us that a deal to end Israel's gaza offensive is not far away as he persuades Syria to pressure Hamas to stop goading Israel. Obviously he's got more rockets than Hamas.
  22. caldrail

    The Mood Is Black

    By caldrail,

    Right. Time to sit down in my cubicle at the Library and while away an hour on the internet. It's quiet, nobodies showing off their bestial personal habits, and no mobuile phones... Uh-oh. I spoke too soon. The young black lady on the PC to me right whipped her phone out with practised ease. She spoke clearly, confidently, quietly, and for some strange reason, there was a very appealing tone to her voice. I found myself listening in. Oh no. I've turned into a sad eavesdropper. Oh well..
     
    Now it seems that her friend has a relation who is getting into trouble with the police. That seems to be a rite of manhood with young black males all over world. It makes me wonder if their girlfriends get turned on by the bad boy image... "You've been arrested how many times?... Wow...."
     
    I don't get it. With all the modern equality and equal opportunities, not to mention a black President of the US, how can young black males claim to be repressed? They say White Attitudes. What White Attitudes? I used to hang around with a group of young blacks and found them affable company, even if they did try to live up to the L.A. image. None worked for a living of course, and it doesn't take much speculation to figure out how they paid for their designer clothes. I remember meeting a twenty-something black woman a year or two ago. Somehow or other we got talking and I have to confess, she was nice. Sadly my 'White Trash' label didn't impress her mother, who happened to be in the bar too, and the young lady promptly vanished from sight.
     
    It seems to me that racism, even in its mildest forms, persists because the blacks want it to. Its common ground for them, a focus of their community, an excuse, a cause to cling to, justifying every attempt they make to get something for nothing. Now there will be some people who'll accuse me of hypocrisy given my short-lived betrothal to Miss J. For those who haven't read my blog before (shame on you), Miss J was a black lady chosen by DS, a former boss of mine, a blonde airhead with the attention span of a goldfish and the marital instincts of a piranha. Given the circumstances, Miss J's skin tone was the least of my worries.
     
    So now we have a 44th Precedent of the United States. I would like to think he'll make a difference in more subtle ways than international politics. Somehow, I doubt things will change very much after the euphoria dies down. To many young blacks, it's business as usual.
     
    News Item of the Week
    Right, I've mentioned Barack Obama, I've done my duty. Now lets find the most interesting news item that doesn't have 'Inauguration' on it. Lets see...
     
    Parade on Pennsylvania Drive.... No.
    Bullet proof glass viewing compartment.... No
    Obama means 'He With Us' in Persian... No.
    Bible used has segregational connections... No
    Most people ever in a political meeting... No
    Newspapers describe crowd as 'Biblical'... No
    Steven Spielberg says he couldn't afford to film a scene with a crowd like this... No.
    Reaction of Iranians... No
    Kenyans hold celebration party.... No
     
    Oh I give up. Yes, it's Obama. But under protest, because the media aren't interested in anything else right now. Hang on... Whats this? RAF C130 scrambles to take pregnant woman from Stornaway Island to mainland hospital... Aha! Action, human interest, and a happy ending, all in one go. They almost got lost in the rush to cover Obama there. Well done lads.
  23. caldrail
    Yesterday I ran out of space on my job search card so it's down to the job center to ask for another. As expected there was a mass of bemused dole claimants milling around while harassed security guards do their best to sound important. Ok, here we go...
     
    I brush past the lines of ex-car manufacturers and single mothers to confront a guard. Can I have one of these please?
     
    "Wots that then?"
     
    Its a job search record. I need a new one.
     
    "Why do you need a new one?"
     
    Ok. take a close look at exhibit A. One secondhand job search booklet, all filled in... you see? I ran out of space. Now I need a new one.
     
    "Uhhhh... Right.... Wait there mate."
     
    He strolled off to find out from someone else what I was talking about. He returned fully informed, smiles all round, confident that his efficient security guard image was still secure.
     
    On the way out I was stopped by some guy with a notepad. My celebrity instincts immediately gave me that tingly feeling. He introduced himself as a journalist from the local rag, and asked would I mind being interviewed?
     
    Try to look calm and disinterested Caldrail. Stay cool. It's only a local newspaper...
     
    Security Guard of the Week
    Definitely goes to the fat guy wandering around the library. If ever a man was unaware of his own insignificance, its him. The reason being he gives anyone who asks him a question a full ten minute lecture on what to do, where to do it, how it should be done, who to do it with.
     
    I get the impression he doesn't get out much at nights.
  24. caldrail

    Keen or What?

    By caldrail,

    The opening of the library is my daily ritual these days. I come in and browse the selection of paperback novels. Ye gods there's some rubbish getting printed these days. A lot of it is genre based. Half a dozen tales about the Roman period are there, and the details on the back are sounding very similar... Johnius Smithio the detective... On the trail of the man who killed the other one... blah blah blah. I've heard all this before. Doesn't sound like a likely scenario anyway.
     
    Ooh look, a novel about Egypt. Johna Smithra the detective... On the trail of the man who killed the other one... blah blah blah. Sounds familiar. Didn't know the ancient egyptians had a police force...
     
    Lets see.. Whats this? A novel about mysterious goings in a modern greek monastery. John Smith the detective, on the trail of - Lets not bother eh?
     
    Or this one? A novel about mysterious parchments, mysterious hooded men, and a trail that leads to the legendary Sword of Excalibur... John Smith the detective.... On the trail of the man who.... Sigh.
     
    Is it just me or are novels getting just a bit less novel than I remember them?
     
    Keeness of the Week
    The security guard finally overcame his lethargy and opened the doors. The coffee bar downstairs was first to open. One young man rushed forwards. Wow. He must be thirsty. Then, before the guard pushes back the doors to the stairway, the young man reappears from the other side and bounds up the steps.
     
    Well done. You managed to get in around twenty three seconds sooner than the rest of us. Very impressed. Especially since the guard happened to open the door a minute early and you can't access the internet until nearly 09:31. I amble my way upstairs. Choose a PC, and log myself in. He rushes past behind me, keen to find a PC he can log onto....
  25. caldrail

    Absolutely Buzzing

    By caldrail,

    The noise level has gone up considerably. Roadworks have started at the bottom of the hill and crossing the road is now something like traversing No Mans Land in 1917.
     
    Libraries are supposed to be quiet aren't they? Not Swindon. Our library is buzzing with lively action. At first, the library was silent as you'd expect, then a conversation broke out behind me. One of those "Allo mate, where ya been? Seen the footie? Hows the missus?" type of exchanges at the top of their voices. So loud in fact the gentleman opposite me strode over and enquired whether they knew they were loud or not. He then went back and had a conversation with his mate next to him.
     
    Luke Floorwalker is busy practising his moves. Jedi Knights start young these days I guess, and he's certainly taking on the universe. His mum tells him to stop. Thank you. So instead he tries to see how rapidly he can revolve on his seat.
     
    Once those two had gone another mother and child turned up. She doesn't know anything at all about computers and of course dragged her son along because he knows everything. I should know, I heard his lecture on Computers For Dummies.
     
    The other side of a pillar a father and daughter turn up. This time the situation is reversed. He's an IT expert (or at least makes a pretence at being one) and she sat there while father guided every single move of her mouse. Poor girl was bored out of her mind. She'll grow up with a phobia about logging on.
     
    AM is busy with his emails on the next PC. Now he's normall the worst offender of all, but even he's starting to lose his patience as two woman discuss some subject or other of huge domestic importance. Of course, while all this noise takes place, the level of conversation builds and before long, the library sounds like an early evening in a busy pub. Except they don't serve alcohol. Shame.
     
    Insect Infestation of the Week
    One peculiarity of my home is that I get flies out the front. Open the window for four seconds and you see a miniature dogfight as squadrons of flies circle each other over the carpets of England. Eventually these dumb creatures realise they're not in Kansas any more and migrate toward the kitchen so I have urge them to continue on into the bathroom, where I can open the rear window and persuade them to complete the last stage of their migration.
     
    Except... This one. This fly is determined to annoy me. It refuses to follow the squadron and persists in exploring the flat. Right, I've had enough. I reach for the bug-spray and go into armageddon mode. I thought this stuff was supposed to kill flies? It seems unpeturbed by the noxious chemical that's surely doing me no good at all.
     
    Eventually my superior brain size prevails and I trap the insect in the bathroom. He's in there... Plotting his victorious conquest of my home.... Good grief, he's head butting the door! Has this fly got something against me? Sorry, Mr Bluebottle, but an Englishmans home is his castle and I shake the bug-spray can for another offensive. He won't be buzzing for much longer...
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