Deck the Locks

Magic Garden. Aren’t they clever, the little flowers? I’m currently trying to persuade them to do the same with politicians. Turn them into, say, maggots, since they -the politicians, that is- are already half way there. I do have but one reservation: the real maggots may not welcome this addition to their tribe. After all even the lowest form of live has standards, what! Perhaps we should stick to turds. That’d be a cinch.
Have a very merry winter festival, or whatever it is you celebrate.

Goodbyes and Hellos

Solstice 2018. A sad Solstice. One of the pillars of my sanity and major luminary of my skyline, William Blum, died on December 9th, aged 85, after a long and fruitful career in the field of calling a spade a spade and tossing spanners into  The Man’s propaganda machine. His wonderful Anti-Empire Reports opened many an eye to the facts of political life in the 20th and 21st centuries and strengthened my conviction that no, I’m not mad, bad and dangerous to know and that no, I’m not alone. We all miss him something chronic and I feel, once more, like a serial orphan.
Still, the old sun has reached its peak and the young one is pushing its way upwards and onwards. Very, very soon the dreaded seasonal lunacy will be over and before we know it the first buds will be popping their tiny heads out and the snow drops will raise their small voices to say Hey, we’re alive again. Whoopee!
Have a wonderful Solstice, comadres and compadres. And carry on best you can. Life is short and often sucks but it’s all we have, really. That and love.
Here go a few links to the one and only William “Billy the Kid” Blum, a guy who shot from the hip and hardly ever missed, in case you are curious about what the fuss is all about.
His site:
His last Anti-Empire Report:
And his legacy (we hope):

Pious Bollocks. No. 3,703 Don’t Speak Ill of the Dead

Obituary. Old news, small news and a somewhat late celebration But it’s the thought that counts. I’m looking forward to the next hagiographiotic* obituary we’ll be assaulted with. Why, it might even be that of Henry Kissinger (one lives in hope) and we’ll be told what a nice man he was and how he brought lasting peace and prosperity to the Chilean people and so forth.
*Yes. A hybrid of hagiographic and idiotic. Lovely language, English, innit?
(One of the many articles reminding us we’re not mad, bad or dangerous to know…:-) )

Options & Variations

Evolution II. Change is not always everybody’s’ cup of tea. As Douglas Adams pointed out, somewhere in the HHGTTG, some people think that it was a very bad idea to come down from the trees; and some even go as far as claiming that crawling out of the sea and developing legs was a seriously bad move. Still, evolution happens, whether we like it or not. Although, sometimes, listening to Theresa May babble her incomprehensible rubbish, or Donald the Orange Duck foam at the mouth about…well, anything, really, I have an urge to join the reactionary camp and cry “Let’s go back to the Primeval Soup, for Bumba’s sake!” Sometimes I also have this itch to run out into the street shouting “Cry havoc and let slip the perritos de la guerra!”All things considered, I much prefer that last urge, even though the body will not allow the putting it into practice, by any stretch of the imagination. Again, small mercies…

Further Travels in Hypereality

Travellers. Aka Now Voyager 2.0 I don’t know what’s with me and tadpoles. And wee fishes. Nor do I care. I like them and as I never tire of saying, I’d rather have a tadpole in 10 Downing Street that the monster that skulks around there at the moment. And it could be worse. It could be the BojoBozo Creature, Bumba forfend! Grateful for small mercies? (Some bloody mercies…:-( )

Question Mark. For Ash 6.0  I know the anniversary proper is not for another couple of weeks yet but, as I also say, ad nauseam, I must concede, opportunity is as opportunity does. Who knows what state I’ll be in come the day? So, carpe doodle, deep sigh, big Oh Well… and on with life. Here’s looking at your subatomic particles, kiddo. We still miss you.

Mysterious Bonds

Egypt2S. aka Bonding with ‘Bots. Owing to her links with shady creatures of dubious reputation sporting animal heads and such like irregularities, she’s not exactly Miss Popularity around the Delta. But the feral robots love her. No, I don’t know why, either. Feral robots are peculiar at best and highly volatile if pestered with trivial inquisitions.

Empires of Tears

Angry Alien. It’s not nice to send your children to be slaughtered in some distant land to defend your avaricious dreams of empire, then wrap them in the flag and commemorate their loss with great displays of ersatz sentiment and buckets of crocodile tears. And almost immediately after send a new batch of cannon fodder to fight your next imbecile imperialist gamble!
Something new:
Not a fan of Kipling by any stretch of the imagination but in this case he got it so right:
If any question why we died,
Tell them, because our fathers lied.
Something old:
Malditas sean las guerras y los canallas que las apoyan.
Julio Anguita