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Feelin’ Stabby

Posted by Nlogax on March 30, 2012
Posted in: asides, Not Brain Surgery, Not Rocket Science, Thought Bubbles, Twattery. Leave a Comment

2012, so far. 

  • Greece teeters on the brink of real financial meltdown.
  • Syria’s government is trying its darndest to ensure its own peoples’ extinction.
  • The US is scared into silence by the notion that someone even scarier than GWB is aiming for the role of President.
  • Worldwide climatic catastrophe inches closer by the day.
  • The future of the our wonderful NHS is turned inside out by government ‘reform’.
  • Parts of Britain are already drought-ridden and expect a long, hot and dry summer of standpipes.
  • The bloody Olympics.
  • The bloody Diamond Jubilee.

And yet..

 

..yet..

 

Cornish Pasties.  Occasionally nice but usually stodgy flakey pockets of lard containing mystery meat and grey vegetables.  If you buy them hot, you pay VAT.   If, as George Osborne suggests, you eat them cold – then you pay less.  Ok. Sounds like a typical rip-off.  Next topic though.  It’s just greasy snackfood, not life or death.

NO.

“Let’s keep poking at this pasty issue.   Look, we don’t know anything about all this serious stuff determining other peoples’ very day-to-day existences, or our own health and well-being for that matter.  Whatevs.  Anyway, what’s the bloody Euro ever done for me?  And I don’t even know where Syria is.  Isn’t it somewhere north of Ipswich?   As for the NHS, I’m sure it will still be there when I need it. If I need it.  Hey – I just had a coffee and feel great.  It’s not important.  What’s really important is that THOSE BASTARDS ARE TAXING OUR HOT SNACK FOODS!  AND I DON’T WANT TO RUN OUT OF FUEL! THE MEDIA SAID WE HAVE TO PANIC! I’M PANICKING! 

Fuck it, I’m off down the fuel station to fill my unsafe jerry cans full of petrol and pick up a crate of Ginsters..”

This is the level of discourse we’ve reached.  This is the stuff that people seem to worry about.  Newspapers and TV news feed into it.  As it builds, you can hear the collective IQs of those around the country.  The noise is like an old tape player with failing batteries.   What really Should Matter doesn’t, and what really SHOULDN’T matter is at the top of everyone’s minds.

Without wanting to generalise, I want to say it’s down to the Great British Public distracting themselves from the cruel and obvious realities of  the year. But no, they just care more about pasties and filling their tanks than everything else.

 

 

 

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Tender

Posted by Nlogax on March 30, 2012
Posted in: Choons, Thought Bubbles, Video. Leave a Comment

March has been a weird month.  Good, but weird.   I think this song describes my physical state a week or two ago. Amazed that it’s not seen the light of day on YouTube until now.

 

 [Monaco - Tender]

“In my mind I live in California”, sings Hooky. No ta, it’s just nice to visit as much as possible.

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Solar Death March

Posted by Nlogax on February 28, 2012
Posted in: asides, Not Brain Surgery, Not Rocket Science, Nyoos, Thought Bubbles. Leave a Comment

While I’m planning professional and personal trips to different parts of the globe (usually dull), home improvements (inevitably dull) and other stuff in my personal life (also dull unless you’re either me or one other specific person – which you’re not), there really isn’t much to write about.   This is the WordPress equivalent of me driving on fumes.

All that said, I don’t care.  It’s finally spring. With the weather warming , the first thing you now smell when you take a deep breath isn’t the chemical tang of windshield defrosting fluid, but the toxic whiff of cheap Wapping newsprint.  That’s reason enough to get typing.

News International’s News Of The World replacement genre-busting Sunday tabloid sparked into sudden and unwelcome life amid a blaze of ‘Murdoch’s in town!’ publicity not seen since Darth Vader arrived to oversee construction of the Death Star 2.0.  Our saggy-faced anti-hero has been seen at the Sun’s offices in E1W, presumably grunting with Antipodean enthusiasm at rushing out his new paper baby in an attempt to jolly up the staff there who are undoubtedly demoralised and deflated after the past few months of hacking scandals, News of the World closure fallout and the resulting Leveson and police revelations.   Rumours of Murdoch being seen ‘smiling’ have yet to be confirmed by medical experts until they can accurately determine if his excess facial skin always creases that way.

The whole story of its existence makes for grim reading.  And yet somehow it’s still more gripping  a read than an actual copy of the paper.  The Sun on Sunday boasts such columnists as, um, well, Toby Young and Katie Price.  That’s right.  Katie Price.  A woman so devoid of depth she makes a Wet Wipe look like Loch Ness.

I read a few pages from a leftover copy on a train last Sunday afternoon just to get a flavour of what it’s all about. As many have already reported, it’s a copy of The Sun and, interestingly, it’s sold on a Sunday.   Press commentators have also complained that it seemed ‘rushed’ but I really didn’t buy that.   From this perspective The Sun on Sunday is as consistently bad as The Sun on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

The only thing more depressing than The Sun on Sunday is the rumoured circulation figure.  3 million Britons bought it.   That’s an awful lot of people to educate.  Where to begin?

 

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Bonus Round

Posted by Nlogax on January 30, 2012
Posted in: Thought Bubbles, Twattery. Leave a Comment

Another outcry about bonuses and banking. The nation’s collective voice rings out loud and clear. “Don’t pay Stephen Hester any sort of bonus, it’s not FAIR during this time of austerity”.

Pitchfork Mob

Yarrr!

I’m not a banker. I’m not on some gigantic salary. I don’t collect a bonus that matches the GDP of a small third-world country. But then again, I’m not running a gigantic bank. I don’t know anything ABOUT running a gigantic bank. I’m not responsible for ~140,000 employees around the world. I don’t sit at the helm of an organisation which is part-owned by a government, riding incredibly rough financial seas and keeping said company afloat in a financial storm that threatens to overturn us all into a 1930s-era depression.

People who do know about these things, who do know what they’re doing, who manage such large corporations should be paid appropriately. Do we really believe that a bonus of £1m is so onerous considering the responsibilities of the role? Bonuses of four times that amount for traders working several levels underneath Hester..different story. Yet, managing a corporation with the size and scope of RBS – that should merit a relatively sizable paycheque. It just makes sense.

My faith in the wisdom of Britain’s ‘single public voice’ has never been lower. It is nothing less than disingenuous to directly relate the salary of a CEO of one of the country’s largest financial institutions (charged with saving the company and bringing it out of semi-public ownership) to the hardships of millions of struggling Britons. The current situation isn’t Hester’s fault, and very few people could do Hester’s job. Labour MP Chuka Umunna commented that at £1.2m, Hester’s annual salary was 46 times that of the average UK worker. I’m loathed to believe that 46 people employed on that average salary could do Hester’s job. Could you? Maybe it’s what the public actually wants? Hey, good luck with that.

Let’s not forget, this bonus is in the form of deferred shares, payable in 2014 and subject to share price. This is the most basic example of a performance bonus. For Hester and for the taxpaying public who “own” 83% of the company to benefit, he needs to ensure RBS does well and eventually rights itself from the situation he and his colleagues were hired to fix. To do that he doesn’t need the distraction of a furore about his bonus.

As a nation fed by headlines and shouty, 48pt type on various news sites and papers, we immediately voice reactive opinions in unison. It doesn’t necessarily follow that we know what we’re talking about. Sometimes we go for the jugular simply because the red mist prevents us from bothering to actually look at the details. We’re rapidly moving to a situation where an unpleasant ill-informed cacophony of media-enhanced pitchforks and flaming torches are forcing changes like this. Where does it end?

*Thank you to a very helpful contributor on picking up some of the points that I may have otherwise missed.

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Random photos of 2011

Posted by Nlogax on January 4, 2012
Posted in: Photo, Travels, Updates. Leave a Comment

Some pictoral randomness that didn’t appear in other albums from last year..

2011 Random Photos
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Morning Sun

Posted by Nlogax on December 30, 2011
Posted in: Photo, Travels. Leave a Comment

One morning on the Suffolk coast.

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Updated: Missing friend and colleague

Posted by Nlogax on December 29, 2011
Posted in: Updates. Leave a Comment

My friend and colleague Phil Lawrence has gone missing.

Halifax Courier article

Phil lives in Hebden Bridge, but was last believed to be heading to Scarborough on or around the evening of December 22nd when last contact was received from him.

I know blog entries like these are quiet, hidden things in the grand scheme of everything else, but please do read this and pass it on in case someone has information.

Details plus contact information for West Yorkshire Police – here

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Best of 2011 – Spotify playlist

Posted by Nlogax on December 27, 2011
Posted in: Choons, Sound, Updates. Leave a Comment

A list of what’s floated my musical boat this year.  Useful if you’re on Spotify, useless if you’re not.

Best of 2011

 

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Hitch in time

Posted by Nlogax on December 16, 2011
Posted in: asides, Thought Bubbles. Leave a Comment

This morning I was saddened to hear about the death of Christopher Hitchens.   He died of pneumonia stemming from the oesophageal cancer with which he’d been diagnosed back in June of 2010.

His final piece in Vanity Fair only this month (‘Trial of the Will’) described his excursion – call it a dress rehearsal if you will – to the brink of death.  Little were we to know that days later, he would actually expire.

It’d be wrong to utter ‘RIP Christopher Hitchens’.  As far as he was concerned, resting in peace doesn’t happen. You just die and that’s it.  However, Hitchens will be deeply missed.  Missed for his frightening intelligence, for his acerbic use of the English language (the most acerbic I’ve ever encountered),  his honesty, his clarity of thought and for his utter contrariness – something I’ve wholeheartedly embraced in recent years.

It’s been said by some that proof that God exists can be found in Peter Hitchens’ continued existence while his brother succumbed to the ravages of cancer .  In my eyes, quite the opposite is true.

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Rat Face

Posted by Nlogax on November 23, 2011
Posted in: asides, Thought Bubbles, Twattery. Leave a Comment

A meaningless aside to the usual guff about music or Lego or whatever else I usually drone on about.

Driving home this evening, I was listening to The Media Show on Radio 4.   Jules Stenson, erstwhile showbiz and features editor of erstwhile rag News of the World was taking part in a discussion with Peter Preston and host Steven Hewlett, looking at the week’s events in the Leveson Inquiry.

Not really knowing of Stenson or his history, I first thought I was listening to Paul McMullan whom previous plyed his trade as another ex features editor at the News of the World before taking up careers in both pub hostelry and as ‘Stereotypical rat-faced Murdoch hack’ on various news outlets.  The voice was a similar whiny, over-defensive one.  However, this voice used words with more than one syllable. This wasn’t McMullan.  It was Jules Stenson.

A summary of Stenson’s defence of the printed press and the status quo in terms of media regulation was this; newspapers do good things as well as bad things, and they’re not all bad – therefore let’s just drop all of this Leveson crap, newspapers are overregulated as is and we should just all get on with our jobs.

That’s right.  Let’s ignore all those things the media do which drive people to anything from bankruptcy, stupid decisions, despair, self-harm and suicide.  Right?

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A Tale of Two Cameras

Posted by Nlogax on October 27, 2011
Posted in: gallery, Geekgasm, Photo, Thought Bubbles, Updates. Leave a Comment

Ok, slightly misleading. A tale of ONE camera and why it’s going into semi-retirement.

When I first bought a Canon EOS 20D very early in 2005, it was $1200 worth of shiny, heavy stuff. It’s been everywhere with me, weighing down travel bags and camera cases. I’ve only got three EF lenses including the one from the original kit, but that’s all I’ve needed. The 20D is a gorgeous thing, but its prime has come and gone. The newer, shinier upstart has arrived.

The 60D is effectively the fourth generation of the same camera. It does HD video in a fashion that makes me drool with excitement. It also has a huge articulating screen. I know I’m going to get very attached to this camera very quickly.

I’ll bring out the 20D on occasions, and I’ll miss using it on a regular basis. It’ll be hard to feel wholly nostalgic for a postage stamp-sized LCD and a lack of HD video, but that’s not quite what I mean.

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AllEOS20D 040
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AllEOS20D 182
IMG_3024
AllEOS20D 349

AllEOS20D 260
AllEOS20D 130

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Sofa Dig

Posted by Nlogax on October 4, 2011
Posted in: asides, Thought Bubbles, Twattery. Leave a Comment

There are bits of my life that I like to keep very close to me. I hate to lose track of them. If I lose track of them then I’m obviously losing my grip on everything else.

Yesterday, I lost my wallet.

That sounds ridiculously small fry in the great tome of personal admissions of ‘fail‘. Yet losing keys, wallets, asthma inhalers, small pets..it’s not what I do. So when I found myself late in the evening dialling various banks and credit card companies, it was the sour taste of final defeat. Thirty minutes later I’d arranged replacements for every piece of plastic I carry.

Then came the final obstacle. With a mere half tank of fuel in the car, not a bean of proper cash on me and no way of getting to an open bank until Friday, I remembered the 500 miles of work driving between now and the end of the week. That’s when the panic set in – and that’s when I remembered the HUGE jug of loose change I’ve been topping up since the dawn of time.

That jug saved me. First thing this morning I poured the entire contents into a bag, dragged the bag (it was HEAVY) to a nearby supermarket and then decanted the contents into a Coinstar machine. Suddenly – and happily – I was £55 better off (after 8.9% ‘commission’). Saved by a supermarket change machine. The ignominy of it all. I’ve just turned 38 years old and yet the basics of existence continue to elude me.

Final mark: C- .. can do MUCH better than this.

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