I've run out of titles.

I see that remarksman thinks I've offended those crippled supermen Tom Smith peoples the world with. But I have lots of troubliing dreams without annoying the mentally unusual. Besides, I didn't do down any spazs, as he says I did.

Something good about working in a charity shop: I get a discount on anything I dredge up from their stores. Don Bradman's Book today. A couple of others too. I notice the woman, the student girl, who works there is, as they say around these parts, "well fit". Average face, tremendous body.

I wonder what happened to Jeff Well, from over Rigorous Intuition blog way. He wrote a very good post called "The Strength of Venezuelan Steel", excellent it were. I don't think he'd write it now. He's obsessed with the idea that controlled demolition is irrelevant, as if the truth can ever be irrelevant. Just a distraction. Chaff, as that bloke who supposedly drove David Kelly to his death might say. Doesn't matter if it's true or not, it take's up too much time, or so Wells would have us believe. I don't know what changed his mind. He was once a died in the wool CDer (controlled demolitioner, of course).

Trouble is there's no one way to pursue the truth. If there was, though, it probably wouldn't be by ignoring and suppressing it in the interests of respectability. Communism tried that. Claimed to be the scientific way to run an economy. The one absolute truth. That's why people who disagreed with it had to be put in mental institutions, because they couldn't disagree and be both honest and sane.

The Catholic and the Communist are alike in assuming that an opponent cannot be both honest and intelligent.
-- Orwell

I know it says intelligent, but it's close enough. Maybe they would just reeducate someone they thought to be stupid or ignorant, but someone who's intelligent and opposed to them is a danger to their position in the public eye and in their own world view. Must, therefore, be mental.

It's the same with capitalists now, although in the capitalist system it tends to be the oppressor class with their psychobabble based hypochondria who get the psychiatric treatment and the dissidents just get ignored. Laughed at, too. Look at George Galloway. I'm no big fan of his, but he's a proper dissident. There was a half-hearted effort by the intelligence services to wash his hands in Iraqi blood, of which they have a plentiful supply, but even that was mostly for the stand-ups.

"The Sun", 23 April, 2003:
*Sun can’t bribe George to come out of his £1/4m villa on the Algarve*
Traitor George Galloway refused to talk to the Sun at his Portugal hideaway yesterday - even after we offered him a tempting wad of 50,000 Iraqi dinars.

Spiritualism tried the same kind of trick, called itself the scientific religion. Claimed to be the first religion based entirely on reason and empirically proven fact. Problem: only room for one scientific religion per planet, and this planet was spoken for by close-minded empiricism. Spiritualism never stood a chance, poor little mite, no matter how many tricks the demons played.

Mind you, science hasn't done that much better. Like most priesthoods, especially those based on the initiatory principles of the mystery religions (universities taking the role of the Eleusinian caverns) they have become obsessed solely with form, not with content. Their lack of knowledge is greater than their knowledge, and whole fields of study they prefer to ignore. Mainly those with no major profit centres. Artemesinin cures leaukemia, it turns out, as well as malaria. You won't be hearing that on the cover of the New Scientist any time soon.

Geographers in Afric-Maps
With Savage-Pictures fill their gaps
And o'er inhabitable Downs
Place Elephants for want of Towns.
-- Swift

Of course, mapmakers are a bit more knowledgable these days, but scientists still write wordier versions of "there be dragons here" on there terra ingognitas. Not conducive to exploration. dont' want to get gobbled up by the dragons. Don't want to get lynched by the mapmakers' guild when you get back.

Now I've run out of content too.

Another week, I forget how many

Stephen: Not at all, come in, sit down. Coffee?
Hugh: Thank you.
Stephen: How do you like it?
Hugh: Decaffeinated, jug method, low mineral content filtered spring water, not quite brought to the boil with semi-skimmed milk and one Nutrasweet. Unstirred.
Stephen: Right. (Intercom) Mark?
Voice (Intercom distort): Yes.
Stephen: Do we still have that chemistry set in the office?
Voice (Intercom distort): 'Fraid not.
Stephen: Right, one coffee then please.

Lewis Chester wrote a book called "The Money", about Howard Hughes' legacy. He also wrotes books about the 1968 presidential campaign, the zinoviev letter, aristotle onassis.

A book called "Nazi Gold". Sayer and Botting. American troops in the Military Government of the American Zone of Germany involved in the white slave trade, smuggling drugs and radiological material (including uranium and heavy water into Soviet Germany), theft of quantities of buried Nazi loot, mostly in the form of sacks of foreign exchange but also gold. And, of course, platinum, radium, works of art, blocks of uranium, tanks of heavy water, anything that could be looted from the local houses. MI6 by Stephen Dorrill, at least I think that was the book, MI6 using E-boats to smuggle men into Soviet territory, using men to smuggle fags and Swiss gold watches into Communist countries.

Hugh, above as below, is the eponymous "House" in the American television series of that name. I've never seena n episode of that, but I heard enough to think it's unlikely that accent's fooling anyone. I heard some Americans in real life today, assuming they weren't just putting on the voices. In town for Europe's biggest antiques fair.

Stephen So, Mr Lully, you'd like a loan?
Hugh That's pretty much the size of it.
Stephen You mention in your letter that you're starting up a business and that you're interested in taking advantage of our new "Gredo" start-up package.
Hugh That's correct.
Stephen Yes, now first things first. What exactly is the product you're hoping to market.
Hugh Ah, yes. Brought some samples along as a matter of fact. Hugh gets out two small sachets. Haven't actually settled on brand names yet. But there's basically two products. The blue sachet is cocaine and the red is heroin.
Stephen I'm sorry?
Hugh My own market research and some work undertaken by the packaging and graphics team has revealed that cocaine is thought of as a fresher, brighter product, hence the blue, and heroin is warmer and more passionate, therefore red. You disagree? I'd value your input.
Stephen You're planning to distribute and sell drugs?
Hugh On the button. The market's there, I'm ready to go, and let's face it - Europe's open for business.
Stephen Ye-e-es.
Hugh Problem?
Stephen Possibly. Possibly.
Hugh I know what you're going to say. It's a market that up until now has been hedged about with a lot of rules and regulations, and let me tell you this. When I first began to look at this market, I thought to myself, "hey, I'd be better off manufacturing red tape". Hahaha!
Stephen Red tape, yes.
Hugh But thank God, times are changing. Whole new markets are opening up, and I'm ready to play them.
Stephen Right.
Hugh The demand is there, no question.
Stephen Uh huh.
Hugh The most exciting thing for me is that it's such a young market.
Stephen Really?
Hugh Immensely young. Consumer profiling indicates the twelve to fifteen-year-old segment. And if we can instil in them product loyalty, that's got to be good news.
Stephen Aha. But ... but ...
Hugh I know what you're going to say. "Do they have the income?" right? Well, what I always say is, "if the product's right, they'll find the income." Their mother's handbags, car stereos, old age pensioners, wherever.
Stephen Mmm. I meant, well ... I hesitate to use a word like this. I know it's old-fashioned. But do you think it's strictly moral?
Hugh I beg your pardon?
Stephen Is it moral?
Hugh Moral?
Stephen Yes.
Hugh I'm not sure if I've actually got any precise figures on that ...
Stephen Yes, I actually mean ... is it moral to do this at all? You know ... children and so on.
Hugh Well. Let me turn the question round and ask you this. Would you rather we stood by and watched the Germans, the Dutch, the South Americans take our market share? Where's your precious morality then?
Stephen Well ...
Hugh Up a gum tree without a paddle, that's where it is. The question is this. Either you believe in market forces or you don't.
Stephen Well actually, I'm afraid to say I don't.
Hugh You don't?
Stephen No. I used to of course, when I was a child, but like everyone else, I discovered as I grew older that it was all made up.
Hugh Made up?
Stephen Yes. I can still remember the exact moment. It was Christmas Eve. I can't have been more than about thirty years old. I couldn't sleep, so I crept downstairs and heard my parents laughing about market forces, and saying that they'd have to break it to me sooner or later. Bit of a blow, I can tell you. And then two years after that, I discovered there was no such thing as Father Christmas either.
Hugh You're kidding?
Stephen Oh sorry, did you ... ?
Hugh Yes I did. Tscch.
Stephen Oh dear.
Hugh Growing up, eh?

I had a dream

I can't remember anything that happened in this dream. The dream was more of a state of knowledge than of a particular series of events. I woke up from this dream in the middle of the night, I think Star Trek was on the BBC, and I made a note of something I had to remember, which is something I often do. "Aviddarr", it says. I seem to remember that it was a name, or more precisely part of a name. A surname, perhaps. Unfortunately I can't remeber anything else about it, except that I was under the impression that it was of great importance.

I see the Office of Fair Trading have done their usual business loving trick: they've decided to take the banks to court over bank charges, an illegal practice the banks indulge in to their massive profit. Many people have got their money back from the banks through the courts but the OFT has decided that all such claims should be immediately suspended for the duration of the as-yet only theoretically upcoming courtcase. It's a deal they've done, the news said. I see what the banks got from this deal, I don't see what the OFT got in return. That's the point of doing a deal, isn't it? Both sides getting some of what they want? All that's happened here is that the banks have been given permission to continue their illegal doings with impunity and the people have been forbidden from challenging them until the end of the court case the OFT are supposedly going to bring eventually. Thanks a lot OFT. The worst case scenario for the banks, therefore, is that they have a couple of years or so, for these cases are incredibly slow even once they get going, of doing what they like and having their way with the public. More likely the OFT will fuck up the court case, the first court case on this issue that will set a precedent, and no-one will be able to reclaim their money from the thieving banks again.

More interesting is the BBC News' presentation of this. I didn't note down the exact words, but it was along the lines of "Have the banks been providing a good service or have we been expecting too much". In other words, are they right or are we wrong? No, of course, and no. We are right and they are wrong. Thieves. Law breakers and outlaws.

I don't supoprt the ragged trousered philanthropist. Whoever's in charge these days seems to want to bring in a government by philanthropy, rich people coulntarily giving their money up for schools and so on (see City Academies) out of the goodness of their hearts and to have their name on the front of the school. Of course with City Academies most of the cost is met by the taxpayer, but my point stands, I think. Philanthropy, in the unlikely event that you can find any (meaning rich people using their money for normally, these days, governmental purposes like providing schools and medical care), has never worked. It's rare, you don't get to be rich by being charitable, but that's not really relevant. Philanthropy was thought in the nineteenth century to be a very good idea but it was abandoned by society at large specifically becaus eit didn't work. It's not on anyway, the education and health of the poor relying on the ill-gotten gains of the rich being doled out to them by their self-proclaimed betters, but there's simply never enough money available to achieve the purposes it's supposedly meant for unless it's coerced byt he government.

Aviddarr. If you know what that means, or what the rest of the name might have been that my brain was trying to tell me about, make sure to get in touch.

Raust lo dop

In my notes yesterday I had written "raust lo dop", or so I thought. It's really "racist to dog". Just a story I heard at the A4E office. About a man being done for being racist to a dog. Shouting at it, get out of my garden you black bastard. Had to pay it £30 compensation. He'd seen the charge sheet and everything. Like the old man in the wheelchair who got done for saying "bloody foreigners" to a couple of bloody foreigners. Girls.

QIM - anti-feminism and his mystical Rosicrucian loving spazs.

Job Search Day

Here is a remarkable blog post. Glenn Sacks, who I'm ambivalent about. Jail for masturbating. Jail for masturbating in jail, in fact. Indecent exposure, they say, victimising the female guard who was spying on him through a camera connection.


Half day at the New Deal Office today, due to staff training.


It's interesting the things you hear in a New Deal office. And the things you see. Today I was overhearing a nice little story about why one of the attendees was late, something to do with a riot at the KFC, when he pulled the front of his hoodie up at the neck to form a face-protecting balaclava, which attaches to the hood section making the wearer look like either a terrorist, a bank robber or a member of the SAS. I also heard the word "scutterpig", not something I hear everyday. Don't use it on Radio 4, they don't.

I think I've pointed out how little I like the sound of human voices. Like a grater on my nerves, it is. I have trouble deciphering them, which doesn't help. There is someone sitting next to me in the library who talks far too much, with one of his little friends. He's the one who seems to be wearing perfume. He's always arseing about at the library, talking very loudly in an annoying voice with one of his band of homosexual followers. At least, I assume they're homosexual. They're extraordinarily camp, anyway. The sleeveless T-shirts and wristbands, the single earing (a well known gay code of dress before being adopted by effeminate youngsters), the bristly pseudo-military haircuts. The lisp. The perfume. They're whinging about the iniquities of someone called "Dane", who I believe I met at the New Deal office. They're arguing about going to see the Transformers movie. Ooh, must be straight, then. They could just be camp, mind. They were talking about a Kit, which could be a man or the car from camp 80s TV programme "Night Rider", but I think is probably the Kit who is an occasional volunteer at the charity shop.

It seems difficult to understand why finding a job would be so hard. Even in a meritocratic society where everything is based on certificates and experience and the shiny clothing you wear. There was a Panorama a bit back where a couple of undercover reporters just walked in off the street and were straight away hired as professional fishmongers and butchers, in which they had previously had minimal expertise. That's never happened to me. Of course, they're RP speaking and with the weight of the BBC behind them acting like MI6 providing fake references and all that sort of thing. FW Demara had no problems, though. He became a monk, although he was sacked, he tried again and ended up stealing the monastic car. He became a teacher, although he had no relevant qualifications, and became a Naval surgeon although he had neither qualifications, nor experience and was, in fact, a deserter from the armed forces of his own country.

Oscar the death cat, I notice, appears on both Football365 and on the rigint message board.

Back to A4E tomorrow (again)

Someone on the RI message board seems overly paranoid about me. Thinks I'm trying to "bait" him into something. I'm not. I'm just talking about books. Bax, too. Bax anti-feminism and socialism. Weininger anti-feminism and weird Nazism, along with existential specualations about the nature of consciousness. And, as I say, Dingwall.

I saw a film a bit ago, I've seen it before, called "The Transporter". Sounds a bit like "The Trainspotter", which might be a more interesting movie. I've seen another film called "The Big Hit". Very similar, they are, except that The Big Hit claims to be a spoof. If it hadn't been made before the Trainspotter I might think it was a spoof of that very movie. All the same, right down the the captive Chinese girl in the boot of a car. The one in the Big Hit might be Japanese, I'm not sure how to tell.

But Falling Down and They Live are better films.

Another Tuesday

I think my little seat in the library is quite a usual one. Man wearing perfume, or some smelly chemical stuff tha annoys my nose. A couple of Polish people talking loudly. Very impolite, these Polish people. I was quite happy when the local Polish population was limited to the Polish War Graves. Much like those Polish people in the most recent of Harry Enfield's programmes they look down their oddly-shaped foreign noses at you.

As I've said, my berth at the charity shop has shown me that it's tremendously over-staffed. Well, that was even more the case today. The area manager swanned in with her entourage, like the hearthtroop or some medieval tyrant. She brought along another volunteer, some woman who didn't seem to be there for any reason and a young relative. The second manager turned up for a few minutes, too, although she's meant to be off for the next few weeks "sick". She stayed around just long enough to slag off her fellow manager. As I've said, I don't understand all this back-stabbing.

Mind you, don't think they extra staff (all female, of course) got any extra work done. Between them they did more or less nothing, certainly less got done that it does when they aren't there. Similarly, don't think any of them felt the need to do any kind of carrying. You think I was superman and they were all as fragile as Matty Upson, the balsa-wood centre-half. Up and down all day long, I was. I wouldn't have though a box of batteries would have been so heavy.

Martin Short wrote a book about the Mafia criminal conspiracy (Maheu and Susurluk included) and one about the Masons. He's not the only one to write books on different subjects which interest me. Eric Dingwall: writer on psychic issues and anti-feminist issues. Anyone familiar with spiritualism in the twentieth century will rcognise the name, but his "American Woman" is considerably less well-known. Of course, there are reasons to be concerned about Dingwall, although I can't remember what they are. As I could only remember about TWA800 that a naval vessel was fleeing the scene soon after and that someone aboard was the target (as with Lockerbie) (I seem to recall that I didn't even note down the name of the target in my little note book, it's just something I've picked up somewhere an squirreled away in my subconscious, so I don't know who it was (contactee, drug dealer, intelligence agent, could've been anyone, anyone have a passenger manifest?)). So, I'm paranoid about Dingwall and I don't know why, but my brain doesn't normally steer my wrong. Even so, The American Woman is a good book. Best book on feminism there is, perhaps barring the works of E Belfort Bax.

Something to be thinking about.