The Red Planet (Mars) DNA Programming and the Great Martian Quest

OK not great pics of the Blood Moon but I was quite pleased 

bearing in mind my dodgy telescope and camera

Have you noticed an interesting trend towards Mars based stuff, even as I type this those clever chaps at NASA are telling the world of the discovery of water still appearing on the surface of Mars in recent times. And it is worth considering that recently there has also been growing talk of trips to Mars. And even the private sector has talked of such things in the future, telling folk to book now for a window seat.

But is there more to all this than meets the eye is it possible that us humans are just part of a cunning plan by Martians. You see long before man was running about and pointing telescopes into space it was said that Mars would have probably had an Earth like atmosphere and environment. If life on the planet developed in the same way as it has on Earth then it is possible that millions of years ago Mars might have had highly intelligent life, long before Earth was even capable of supporting any life as such, even at cellular level

It is also possible that this intelligent life was aware for what ever reason that their own planet was doomed for many millions of years as far as any form of reasonably sized critter was concerned. So what they did was seeded Earth with the DNA of their own species knowing that one day an intelligent creature would eventually evolve that would be programmed to return to Mars and re-inhabit it.  So rather that Man going boldly into space it might be man is genetically programmed to return to Mars because that is our original home. A bit like we all like to go to the sea and watch it for hours, when the reality is its just water splashing about. But its sort of in our DNA we came from the sea, the point is did the critters that evolve in the sea start as a genetic engineering project by Martians.

Look at what happened last night at 3:00 am here in Britain, we were all out looking at the Moon . . .  A Red Moon. Now we are all told it was red because the Earth obscures the sun and the resulting effect is a Red Moon, but maybe not.

Mars is called The Red Planet maybe this Red Glow is some sort of strange beam from the Planet Mars enhancing mans desire to go to Mars, even the background glow of the universe is called The Red Shift.  You see it is all adding up, just how many films have been made about Aliens from Mars, OK sometimes they make films with aliens from other planets but they are few in number in comparison.

  

I think in a few thousand years the remains of Mankind will be looking towards Earth from Mars and laughing hysterically about us, finally knowing we were merely a stepping stone in the great Martian plan to return to their own planet to recolonize it. Mankind will no longer be Mankind by then, they will be 100% Martians and there is nothing we can do to stop it.

Except maybe. . . . . . . . . . No I’m sure you don’t really want to know. 

I bet that Professor Brian Cox is a Martian.              

A Fairytale involving Fate, Wizards, Wisdom, Perilous Journeys and the voice of the enchanted Fleezleboo

Once upon a Time (yes its fairytale time again) there was a famous wizards conference, held every couple of years in the Great Kingdom of Eek, in the Province of Illuminations near the famous cursed lake known to all as The Black Pool in the town of Rowlingside. A popular location for conferences among wizards, witches and various other groups ever since that Harry Potter was seen scurrying about near Rowlingside fish and chip shop, before he became all religious and vanished forever into the Holy Wood.

Now as is always the way in fairy tales the journey (to the conference) is very perilous and wizards sometimes do not make it, due to attacks from the dark witches, monsters and various evil spirits. It has even been know for wizards not to go, but this is frowned upon, as it is seen as a rite of passage to prove the worth of the wizard and his skills at wizardry and cunning guile.  And it means they generally all have a great tale to tell during evenings at the bar.

There is no easy route as each has its own hazards, from the terrible Angry Mountains of Fear to The Plains of Madness.  However our tale is of two wizards, the wise Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table and the foolish Professor Hamish Pikefish Flounder who decided they would travel together.  They had decided to travel through The Valley of Mystical Mists, a strange world that when the sun shines can be an easy passage for a wizard travelling to conference. But once the mists appear them it is said it is best not to move and that you need to take cover, and under no circumstances listen to the voices of the enchanted Fleezleboo. The voice of the Fleezleboo is very convincing and will tell wizards many things in order to trick them into fatal errors of judgement, which is why it is best to be a wise wizard rather than a foolish wizard.

Our two wizards travel fast and easily make it most of the way through the valley during daylight, but as sunset arrives so does the strange Mysterious Mists. Spotting a large Oak tree to spend the night in they climb high into its canopy, knowing that high up in the branches of the ancient oak they are safe. And so it is that they sleep peacefully until morning when they conjure up bacon, sausage and eggs and Scotch pancakes with maple syrup and smoked kippers. Happily eating their breakfast until the mist clears and they can complete their journey.

As they chat and ponder the vast sea of mist below them from their vantage point in the oak tree a serene voice from below calls to them. . . . It’s safe now you can come down and go to conference. . .  Well the wise Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table is not going to be fooled by the voice of the Fleezleboo and shouts down we are not fools we know that if we do we will be bitten by a huge centipede turning us into Zombies and then earwigs will bore into our brains and eat them and then the Toe-dy Beast will nibble our toes and finally our bodies will be eaten by slugs.

Then the voice says. . . .  No No it is me, Miss Granger from those films, I am guest speaker it is quite safe. . . .  Well the foolish Professor Hamish Pikefish Flounder says . . . . OOOO I always wanted to meet her . . . and leaps to the ground. Well I think you can guess what happens. . . . He is bitten by a huge centipede turning him a Zombie and then earwigs bore into his brain and eat it, and then the Toe-dy Beast nibbles his toes and finally his bodies is eaten by slugs.  Well the wise Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table shakes his head and says he was a foolish wizard to believe such a lie.

He waits patiently in the tree watching the mist slowly burn off in the sun until it is almost gone, when the faint voice of the Fleezleboo says look out for that dragon I would get out of that oak tree if I was you, but  Professor Arnoldium Trestle-Table is very wise and laughs. Then the very next second a huge Dragon swoops out of the sky and eats him.

Which just goes to show the hand of fate does not look upon the wise or foolish any differently and you just can’t tell what is going turn up out of the blue. . . . .  But it is very unlikely to be Miss Granger.     

A short list of What I did not do today, and things that did not happen

Over the many years I have been writing my blog I have told you of the many things I have done, as well as write the odd fable, fairytale and poem. But tonight I plan to do something entirely new. You see tonight I will not be writing about what I did but will write about what I did not do today; amazingly there are a lot of things I did not do today far more that I realized, so this is just a small list merely scratching the surface so to speak

I did not actually scratch the surface (despite the old saying which implied I did)

I have not watched a small snail travel across a large stone

I did not sneak up on the international space station and shout BOO at the astronauts

I never waved a pointy stick at a group of little old ladies who were chasing swans

I never ate a large snake

I did not run about shouting QUACK

And I never stood on my head on the ridge tiles of a very tall building

I did not wear a very very bright pink leopard print cowboy hat (AH DAMN actually I did do that today sorry)

I did not draw any pictures

I never spoke to a strange Zombie like creature who juggled mice and laughed in a hysterical manner

I never climbed a large mountain in a wet suit and slippers

I did not mutter under my breath at a load of cyclists on the road (AH DAMN sorry I did that today)

I was not caught leaping over the moon in a superman outfit

I never bought a superman outfit

I did nothing what so ever that had any link to anyone remotely resembling superman

I did not pretend to be a chicken and try to rob a bank

I never fixed a broken pen (OK I tried but it was futile)

I never did anything futile (AH DAMN AGAIN)

I did not see a submarine or a seagull

I did not sing old sea shanties at passers by

I did not deliberately avoid the cracks in the pavement (well not today)

And I did not sell any snow to penguins who might have been hanging about

I did not hang about

I did not write anything that might be considered remotely sensible by either that very nice Steven Spielberg or Mrs J K Rowling who its starting to think I'm mad

Neither Steven Spielberg or J K Rowling phoned me up to say . . . Nice Blog Rob, sorry about the injunction but you know what its like. . . . 

   

I was not bitten by a vampire bat or a Zombie

I never ate the tortoise. . . .Honest

I did not get wet

Anyway this as I have previously said is a very short abbreviated list of what I have not done today and I may tell you again at some time about what I have not done or I may not.

Houseflies . . . . .What is their cunning game

As you know I live in the countryside with the woods to one side of us the fabled Minor Stream of Inconsequence behind us and rolling fields full of cows and the local village. I say village it is almost a village it is not big, but we do have a village hall which has its Friday market due to a twist of fate, and a rather good health food store that has been here for almost ever.

Now being rural with cows peering over the hedge at us and water (sort of) behind us means we do see rather a lot of flies in the summer, yes even the rural ideal has its little annoying issues and flies are a bit of a pain at times. But for reasons I have assumed must be connected to some sort of long term change in the world order or even linked to alien invasion, this year the flies have mutated. Yes they still look like your average housefly being blackish with six legs and wings but they are now ferocious and aggressive. 

I mean flies have always been a bit annoying but not actively aggressive dive bombing you and hitting you in the face. Flying directly at you rather than thinking OOOOoooo is a huge human I better get out the way. So why has this happened it is not something I have seen before. As I have said it must be something like aliens or the like.  I know aliens are a long shot but just imagine if insects coordinated their attack on us poor unsuspecting humans with our soft sensitive skin. I heard that once on a TV advert so it must be true, not that the insects had coordinated their attack on us, but that we have soft sensitive skin.

Another thought was maybe this is a global warming thing because insects can adapt much faster to environmental change than other critters which is why some beetles moths and other insect critters from warmer climates have been seen in Britain but not larger things such as Panthers, wallabies, porcupines and pterodactyls . . . . . AH DAMN. . .   No the point is all the big ones have been brought here by folk who then get bored and let them go, where as the little insects have made their way here by choice.

Still I may not know exactly why the flies are so aggressive (its aliens for sure), but they are; which is why we have a big glowing flyzap in the kitchen.  Finally I will say you can not but be impressed by a fly sat on the edge of a very hot frying pan like it has not got a care in the world trying to work out how to steal my bacon as it cooks. 

Did Volkswagen (VW) cheat . . . . . The Big Question Answered

It appears that poor old VW, (Volkswagen) have fallen foul of American car emission laws by doing a sneaky, but it may not be quite as bad as it appears at first. And as far as I can see Volkswagen themselves may have fallen on their sword a little too quickly, and I will explain why.

You see the world has pointed at them, well American have and shouted cheats cheats cheats stand in the naughty corner. . . and Volkswagen has slumped off stuck the naughty hat on and are feeling very down about it. Well they would do this because in many ways they are the equivalent of the school swot within the world of car manufacturing, something some of our American friends have always resented a bit what with one thing and another.

Now imagine you are the school swot and in an exam you are asked the question. . . . What do you know about the effects of Blue shift when dealing with light refraction in neon. . .  You think a second and then answer . . . I know nothing about the effects of Blue shift when dealing with light refraction in neon. . .  It is not the answer that is wanted but it is a right answer and you get your ten points for getting it correct. No one else thought about that and so did not write anything. Then afterwards the teacher tells the whole class what you did to make you feel bad, but was it wrong or was it a way of getting the points by giving an answer that complied to the question. . ????

You see this is at the heart of what Volkswagen did. They did not set out the test that the car was subjected to, in order to test the emissions of vehicles on roads in the USA, that was done by the American authorities. But back in Germany a rather clever software geek who looked at the test realised that the software that controls the emissions could be set to give a really great answer to the test, because the test conditions were fixed and rather predictable.  Now to me that is a bit cynical and underhand maybe, but not cheating, all it means is the test was wrong, in the same way the question. . . . . What do you know about the effects of Blue shift when dealing with light refraction in neon . . . . Is phrased wrong so that an answer can be given that is not actually the one required.   

A couple of years ago in Britain there was a huge scandal where politicians could manipulate their expenses to claim all sorts of stuff from duck houses to soft furnishings and posh televisions and the like. The politicians did not all put their hands up and say. . . .  sorry we cheated. . .  No they all said. . . we did not break the law. . . . in other words they were morally dodgy and corrupt, and may well still be for all I know, but it was not what might be called cheating more creative accounting.

And this is the key issue with Volkswagen have they really cheated or have they just made their vehicles fit the rules in a rather immoral way. It might seem a small point, but can you fine a firm for doing this . . . .  I suspect not, they have not actually broken the law.

One other point is that the emissions tests are a little pointless anyway because drivers all drive differently; do they have any relevance to a boy racer, granny, a commuter driving through the city each day, or a farmer sticking red diesel in his car or the man locally who ran his van on old chip shop cooking oil. . . That was one smelly van.  I think we can say No. Few folk drive their cars in a technically efficient manner.

If Volkswagen would like employ me to defend them in the American courts I will consider the offer although I am not cheap and don’t have a passport, so would need plenty of warning. . . . And I am very scruffy and don’t drive a Volkswagen but will if they give me one.

OOoooooo one other small point. Had Volkswagen supplied rigged non production cars to be tested in order to comply then that is cheating, but it appears all their cars have this cunning bit of software so that may not be right but it is not actually wrong (Legally speaking).

How to Write a very Traditional Old School Fairytale Starting with Once Upon a Time

The trick to. . .  How to Write a very Traditional Old School Fairytale Starting with Once Upon a Time . . . is very simple indeed. Just go for it. . . A bit like this one

Once upon a time in the far distant past in a land ruled by a fairly typical King and Queen as often seen or read about in fairy tales, there was a young princess. Yes you have guessed it she was in fact the daughter of the King and Queen and was very beautiful. Now being a princess and also young and beautiful made the wicked witch of the woods very very angry. Partly because she was not young and beautiful, but also because wicked witches in fairy tales are generally grumpy and always end up having a rotten time. Some would probably argue this is their own fault and if they were nice to folk all would be well. But they are wicked witches and that would be silly and ruin a good fairytale, and witches do love a good fairytale and will often turn up for no good reason what so ever.

Now it just so happens that one day the Wicked Witch of the Woods met the princess as she was riding through the woods heading no where in particular and the witch told the princess she had put a terrible spell on all the handsome princes in all the kingdom. And that if the princess wanted to meet her husband to be (as princesses have a habit of doing in fairy tales) she would need to kiss every frog she saw . . . .  (Obviously because the wicked witch had turned the handsome prince into a frog). Only it was a lie; the wicked witch had not turned any princes into frogs and the witch left laughing hysterically as witches do.

Well from that day onward the Princess went around looking for frogs kissing every single one she found much to the embarrassment of the King and Queen who kept introducing all the best princes to the princess as prospective husbands, but to no avail as she was convinced that Mr Right (the prince) was in fact a frog.

In the end out of desperation the King offered half his kingdom to anyone who could stop the princess kissing all the damn frogs, by now she had started a breeding program and there were frogs everywhere. Well on hearing this, a passing minstrel said he could do this that very night, but he insisted that he also got to marry the princess. The King agreed as by now many many wizards, knights, mathematicians and every prince in the land had tried and failed to stop the princess kissing frogs.

As night fall arrived the young Minstrel slipped into his Pantomime Frog outfit he used for his Christmas play and went and sat among the bulrushes at the edge of the royal lake. So it was that a short time later the princess on her nightly quest to find frogs spotted him. . . . OOOOOoooo you are big. . .  she said and gave him a big kiss, as she did so the minstrel unzipped the Pantomime frog suit and leapt out.  . . . OOOOOoooo you are big . . . . Said the princess and the very next day they were married and lived happily ever after

O NO they didn’t

O yes they did

O No they Didn’t . . . (continuing the pantomime theme a bit longer).

So . .  O yes they DID.

Well actually they did not, you see the princess it appeared rather liked kissing frogs all the time and insisted the poor minstrel dress up as a frog each night. The pair of them then leapt and frolicked about in a large lake chirping and croaking and various other things that should not be mentioned in a children’s fairytale.   Well this was all very exciting for the princess, but the poor old minstrel now a prince decided it was all a bit strange so he ran off and was never seen again. . . Although it is said he got a job as a pantomime dame in the west end and married Peter Pan (who is a woman. . . Yes I don’t know why Peter Pan is always a woman either).

As for the Princess she is happy in her palace breeding rare frogs and still kissing them just in case. I will not got into the details of Bath Night . . . . 

And the Wicked Witch of the Woods lived happily ever after, well someone has too this is a fairy tale its tradition

O No she didn’t

O Yes She did. . . . . . You see it’s my fairytale so . . . . YA SUCKS BOO.    

AH NO. . . . actually she didn’t

DAMN 

A Cautionary Tale of Love and the Curse of the Living Dead

  

Once upon a time in the land of Britainium was a very very posh wizard school where all the really wealthy folk sent their young wizards to learn how to be a wizard. The problem was the young wizards were in general a bunch of spoilt brats who did not always listen to their teachers and would mess about and shout hoorah henri a lot at passers by.  Then one day a certain young wizard called David Volderon fell in love with a young Zombie from Denmark who was one of the walking dead who helped to feed the posh wizards in the Kitchen. He knew she was from Denmark because she had a huge tattoo saying Danish right down one side, It was something the young Zombie had always regretted but at the time it was a bit of a trend among the Danish Walking Dead.  Anyway our young hero and the love of his life who he called Miss Piggy, due to the fact she would squeal rather a lot during their love making . . .  The details of which I will not go into as this is a child friendly blog.  

The trouble was Young David was an ambitious little wizard and knew that a relationship with one of the living dead would not be looked on favourably with the masses and so he dumped his young Danish partner and left her to rot in the kitchens where she was left to serve bacon, pork pies and various other cuts of meat to the pupils. She eventually vanished but not before it was said she cursed David Volderon; telling him she would return one day to haunt him like a decaying full English Breakfast and that he would never be able to eat a bacon butty ever again without hearing the sounds of wild bores every day in his vast office and his place of work, and that the disgrace of what he did to her would live on forever.

At the time he and his friends mocked her and laughed thinking who does this foolish person think they are with their piggy ears, piggy nose, piggy mouth and a small curly tail and large tattoo. But as we all now know the terrible curse has risen from out of the dark and poor David Volderon has even been deserted by his faithful pet (all wizards have pets) Kermit the Dog.

I said it might be the End of the World today and it appears for one poor chap it sort of has been. I suspect sleeping on the sofa tonight might be on the cards.

Gardens and Motivations . . . . and the thoughts of the Jabberwocky

With the kitchen Diner fast reaching a point of completion and the prospect of a sunny weekend, I was sent into the garden to do battle with the ever impregnable vastness of it. Phew it has grown somewhat in the last month or so since I last took some serious notice of it. So it was a good opportunity to test the newly refurbished Steam Powered Strimmer, a device with a history of great fickleness and the ability to sulk for days on end. But today it was in a chirpy mood indeed and we set off in perfect harmony into the lush greenness of what was once called a Lawn.

Now I was not really so keen on this at the start of the day but was talked round with the prospect of something exciting for our evening meal such as slow roasted Japanese Godzilladom with crispy fried Welsh Dragon Scales and Wizards Balls. . . . NO NO not those balls, this is a child friendly blog you lot, but truffles and Saffron covered in the gold leaf and crushed fairy wings and sprinkled with the unknown thoughts of the Jabberwocky and a bit of maple syrup. Followed by Ice Cream covered in fresh Double Cream and Walnuts and a bit of Strawberry Crumble.  It’s one of those recipes from that book . . . Fantastic Feasts and How to Eat Them . . .  Written by that well known author  . . . . . . . . . . Ah . . . . thingy. . .  what’s their name?  Apparently it has been rewritten and all those recipes for wizards like roast or barbecued beasts and dragons have been removed as it was making small children cry. So the new book has no recipes and its name has been changed a bit, and have you ever tried to buy fresh eye of newt and wing of bat in Sainsbury’s, its not easy.

Anyway I have cut the grass at the front today and if all goes well will set too on the jungle round the back of the house tomorrow. . . . . AH yes that meal, well due to certain issues and not actually having any Welsh Dragon Scales at present we had Pizza, and the cat ate the fairy, I warned them not to flap those wings near the cat.  Still it was a rather tasty Bat Wing Pizza with a bit of spiced Jabberwocky so I was quite happy.

I am well knackered though so will go and chill for a while.

AH the cat has been sick . . . . . . YUCK.       

Kitchen Floors, Strangers, and the End of the World

Today we had strangers in the house not as in sneaking in but as in expected, but they were folk I did not know and I don’t like having folk I do not know in my own house. To make matters slightly worse they were doing work in the house, I do not like folk doing work for me if I don’t known them, particularly in my own home. Just before they arrived in their van they phoned and a rather chirpy Jack the Lad sort of chap explained they would be arriving soon in a rather chirpy Jack the Lad sort of way.  They were on their way to lay the new vinyl flooring in the kitchen diner. I had laid ply down removed the skirting boards and filled any gaps so that all was nice and easy so they were dead chuffed when they realized all that had been done. It also meant they were able to complete the work much quicker than they had planned and left a couple of hours later still chirpy and smiling well ahead of schedule so that they could get another job done before heading home.

So it means the kitchen  diner is starting to take shape and is just starting to look a bit posh which is all a bit odd really because I am not posh and very very dishevelled and rickety. So there is not a great deal left to do, a bit of electrics and I have to remove all the plastic film from the IKEA units so that instead of a dullish mat red there will be a high gloss shiny red allowing folk to see my reflection in all the units glowing red at them in a scruffy dishevelled fashion. . . A bit like a shabby devil with unkept hair and a grumpy disposition.

I heard from a friend earlier who was having a bit of a family issue with a member of his family clutching the lawn in a vice like grip and refusing to let go. I think they were trying to talk the person off the lawn, but last I heard they were still fixed fast to the ground.

Now if you remember I did say 21^st September was the End of the World and I was just wondering if this was the first stage. One of the things you might expect to happen if the End of the World does occur is folk clutching the ground and refusing to let go. It is entirely logical because if the world is going to vanish the best chance you have of being a survivor is to be hanging onto it as best you can. . . . . I am at present hedging my bets because I have just had a posh new floor put in the kitchen diner so if the world does not end I will be able to eat in a posh room although still looking a bit tramp-ish in my own general appearance.     

How (NOT) to respond in important meetings

I spent today at an important meeting, well sort of important, I will admit right now that unless I have some paper to hand to make notes on I am not good at important meetings. Unfortunately I did not have any paper today to make notes on, so all was not well and I got a bit distracted and started to join in the meeting. Sadly the acoustics were extremely bad and much of the time folk could not hear what people were saying so some of the meeting was confused. Apparently my Indian war chant did not help matters or pointing out that the battered chicken things on the lunch buffet looked just like deep fried rat. 

Then the man next to me started complaining about the fact he could not hear the speaker so I said . . .  HALF PAST SEVEN BUT I THINK IT STOPS IN BIRMINGHAM AND YOU WILL NEED TO TAKE A CLEAN TEA BAG. . . .  He did not speak to me after that and thought I was a mad man. I did explain I did not have a piece of paper to take notes, but by then the meeting was well into the afternoon so even if I did get some, time was against me. 

To tell the truth I don’t actually take real notes at these meetings I draw Zombies and the like and pretend to take notes. Generally I find no one is that interested in what I am drawing and assume I need to take notes, and I do look up at key moments and nod and look at folk in a knowing way saying. . . . I QUITE AGREE . . . . WELL SAID. . . and then carry on drawing. But not being able to do this means the little devil sat on my shoulder whispers stuff like . . . GO ON SING SOME RED INDIAN SONGS. . . . I am rather good at Red Indian; I think I may have been one in a previous life which would also explain why I like pointy sticks and one of my favourite saying to say (not Write) is . . . WHITE MAN SPEAK WITH FORKED TONGUE . . .  No I really love that saying because it is so often true.

Once it was all over I managed to assist in slightly breaking part of the display, I was not the main person involved I merely pointed out that if they took it apart in a certain way in might not work, and I was right it didn’t.

I think the next important meeting is in December so I will make sure I go with paper next time rather than assume it will be supplied.

OOOOo I found a dead moth tonight on the patio, I hope his mates don’t think it was my fault that might be a problem. It is getting dark very early these days, I think summer might have vanished for the year with plans to stay in warmer parts of the world for a while. . . DAMN

The Night of the Moth or its the taking part not the winning that matters.

Last night (I think) was the last night of Moth Night, Moth Night you see is in fact a three night event due to the inability of moths to understand the concept of Moth Night.  Turning up two days later confused and complaining about street lights looking like the moon and saying back in the old days a moth could fly all the way to Hartlepool and never ever see a tilly lamp.  

Anyway I must admit I sort of gave up a bit last night because quite frankly I cant tell one moth from another, but I do know there are loads of them from big critters that swoop down and steal sheep in the dark to feast on later, to little Micro Moths that can hide inside a pin head.  And they all have odd names so if you don’t actually know the name of a single moth then it is all rather pointless pointing and saying OOOooo look a moth, and there is another sort of brown marbled moth and another brown moth and oooo look another brown sort of moth. Hang on I’m sure a moth just swooped down and stole a sheep from the field next door. . . . .

I also discovered that there was a little competition going on for who saw the rarest moth, well it was not going to be me I cant tell a common everyday (night) one from a rare one so all I knew is I saw a lot of moths. I had rigged up a cunning lure using the Fly Zap so that they would be attracted to it but not zapped. . . . OK I admit one did get zapped by accident, silly thing.  When I last looked at the web site the rarest moth was something I had never heard of something like a Patagonian dwarf leaping moth which is only seen once every twenty five years. Now I know everyone is generally honest and can be trusted (which is why the masses voted for the nice Mr Corbyn on mass, folk trust him he does what he says) but in certain situations folk might just lie a little bit in order to win. In the same way athletes are not really cheating they are just assisting their inner winning abilities to win with some fancy drug. . . but it is not cheating (honest).  So I did wonder if maybe someone might just be tempted to say Guess which moth I saw it was a Patagonian dwarf leaping moth. . . . Would folk do that surely not. . . . . I am not looking at moths tonight so they can do what ever they do knowing some idiot with a camera is not going to chase them about trying to take a photo in the dark. . . . . . Now what kind of fool would do something like that only to find out that the nice brown-ish moth is in fact the commonest moth in Britain and there are 348 million of them just in Shropshire?    

A Simple Guide to Jeremy Corbyn, the New Leader of the Labour Party

Here in Britain we have a new leader of the Opposition Party (The Labour Party), his name is Jeremy Corbyn. He is on the left of the Labour Party and has shaken up much of the established hierarchy of both his own party and that of the Government. And is seen by many ordinary folk as the Peoples Politician, however there are those who have louder voices in the world who are implying that Labour is now led by some mad leftish lunatic with mad ideas who will given any opportunity destroy Britain, if not the entire world.

Well if folk in power think like that there must be a damn good reason, and I think we should look at one or two of this so called deranged madman’s ideas, I think he has lots so I will just mention a few of the simple ones I know about.

First he says we should all work for world peace and he wants to give up the British nuclear deterrent. . . . This is plainly madness ever since the invention of nuclear weapons, every leader of every country in the world has been keen to have a big red button to press.  What sort of a game of chicken can world leaders play if they cant smile and tap at the big red button a bit saying stuff like I’ll hit it a bit harder if you don’t sell me some of that biological weaponry.  So I think we can say a leader bent on world peace is not good.

He also thinks that every one should be equal. . . Well no one is going to agree to that, well certainly not all those in positions of power and authority with loads of wealth in one form or another. So this is yet another foolish idea of a madman.  Not helped by the fact he looks just like some ordinary bloke in the street. Surely an expensive designer suit would not go amiss and maybe some very expensive hand made shoes, in several colours to match his mood.

He also wants to renationalise the railway system arguing it should be there for the good of the masses and not run as a profitable organisation to make a few folk loads of money. Well that shows a degree of madness that has not been seen by a politician in years.  No wonder no one voted for him. . . . AH DAMN no hang on they did. What is happening to us all, this cant be right.

Apparently he also thinks we should do what we can to help the Syrian refugees, WHAT surely not help folk from another country that cant be right. I thought we were just meant to send them some money and sort of sweep them all under the carpet so to speak (its one of those sayings again). Where will it all end, we cant go round having politicians folk can trust and who keep liking everyone or the whole fabric of society will fall apart. The next thing they will be telling us is he is not planning to milk the expenses’ system for every penny he can . . . . This is not the sort of politician we vote for normally and it needs to stop before they all go nice and honest on us and we are left with no one to hate.

Anyway I am sure there will be many in power who will be telling us about the evil Mr Jeremy Corbyn and his mad ideas and how he will destroy us all, so I don’t think I need to.  As it happens I think he seems like a nice Chap. . . . So you see he is already undermining my view about politicians and he has not even been leader for one day yet. . . .

I know it is terrible.     I wonder if he can improve my typing. 

How fast are we all going. . . . The Big Question

Have you ever wondered about how fast you are moving, well its time to think about this because it is important? Because it does not matter how slowly you try to travel it turns out you are travelling much faster than you ever thought. The average person walks about at about 3 miles an hour going backwards and forwards and eating stuff during pauses, it does not sound impressive. But of course the Earth rotates, so someone at the equator is rotating with the Earth at about a speed of 1000 MPH which is impressive although you need to remember you are only travelling 3 MPH faster than a slug and you might even be travelling slower that a slug if you are walking against the ration, so heading west I think. Of course you could be sneaky and stand on one of the poles (the Earth's poles not a long stick) and then you will just be slowly spinning on the spot.

Well that would be fine except the Earth rotates round the Sun which is why we have years so even sat on the North Pole you are still moving through space while rotating slowly so now we are all moving at 66,500 MPH. I mean that is fast but remember that slug is still sat next to you looking smug (A Smug Slug); all this speed it relative to everything else.

So far it has been easy even the slug is fairly chilled about this, although slightly concerned about how fast he/she is going but it is going to get much faster, you see the Sun is in one of the arms of the Milky way our own galaxy (no not the chocolate) and that is also moving as well as rotating and it appears that the result of all this is we are moving in relationship to the Cosmic Background at a speed of 1.2 million MPH.  Now that is fast, very fast and what it means that ever hour of every day we move 1.2 million miles in the universe so if you go out for the day, say shopping and arrive home 10 hours later your home has moved position in universe by at least 12 million miles. Now that is a long way.

And to make things even worse it might just be that the Cosmic Background Radiation that is used as the reference to tell how fast we are travelling could be part of a moving universe. And bearing in mind each step involves a huge leap in speed then we could be travelling seriously fast indeed within some sort of unknown dimensional thing. I say some sort of unknown dimensional thing because I reckon my guess is as good as that Professor Brian Cox chap, and yes he smiles a lot, but he is a clever bastard and that’s for sure (OOooo sorry about the word I had that Ian Dury song in my head)

What this does mean though is that you are never in the same part of the universe twice and nor is the slug even if you think you are because all the other stuff is moving too. You need to think of the universe like a huge motorway that we are hurtling along as fast as we can in the fastest car you can get, blindfolded and with no brakes. This is fine until say a goat or something similar (maybe an Armadillo) wanders out in front of us (you), when it suddenly all goes wrong and that is the End of Everything. It is also the point when you realise just how fast you are going as bits fly about in random chaos.

 Talking of the end of Everything . . . .  I have mentioned that the 21^st September is the End of the World, and now you know why . . . . . . . Damn those Cosmic Armadillos. 

The loss of cyberspace and the survival of a goldcrest

As I type this it appears I am devoid of access to the wondrous world of cyberspace which means that I cant annoy anyone what so ever in the cyber-world, not that I was planning to go out of my way to do so in particular, but being a grumpy chap one has to be prepared for the unexpected. Talking of which I have just saved a tiny Gold Crest from a fate worse than death when it hit the window right next to me as I was disposing of a few Bay Leaves having just given the bay tree (bush) a bit of a prune.  The poor little Gold Crest was well stunned so I had him, her, it, in my hand to keep it warm while I did stuff, although it does mean it is covered in plaster dust. It is not easy to do stuff with a tiny frail little critter like that in your hand so it has been put on to the summerhouse roof to recover (hopefully), I will check in a bit.

I have also just this second had a phone call to inform me tonight I am drumming so come 7.00 pm (in a couple of hours I will be engrossed in the rhythms of Africa as I play Djembe to the great gods in the sky. It is important to play to the gods and one should never just make a lot of noise for the sake of it, I mean only an IDIOT would do that . . . . . . AH DAMN. 

Well it appears the little Bird has flown off so must be OK and the internet appears to have returned so all is well again despite the fact one of the cats is wagging its tail, but it always wags its tail . . . . . . AH no hang on take everything I said about the internet being back, back. It is not back. . . . .  The joys of technology, do you know that my faithful African Drum has never once failed to work when I play it and there is not a single bit of modern technology in it.

Last night as I was about to vanish off to bed I suddenly found that my Twitter account was being followed by JK Rowling; well that was very very odd indeed, but when I checked this morning I discovered it has been followed by the wrong JK Rowling who appears to look like the other one and talks about old Harry Potter like they are old pals from the days of sitting in the café with a trusty ball point pen.  I have to say it is just a bit odd and given the choice I would prefer having a real one rather than a fake JK Rowling following me on Twitter.  Anyway there is no challenge in making a fake one like seagulls, stroking their heads as they recite . . . . Who’s a Pretty Potter then . . . . Harry wants a peanut. . . . . . .

OK well that’s about it for tonight I will be off to have a Baked Potato with cheese salad and various dressings. . . 

All I need to do now is wait for cyberspace to return.

Well that took a while and that’s for sure. . .  

How to be a successful writer. . . An Easy to Follow Short Guide.

The world of blogging or to be more accurate my world of blogging has hit a brick wall as it appears everyone except the very very hardiest have run off to read the blogs of other folk. I am not sure why this has happened it is all very strange indeed. But I am not downhearted as it gives me an incentive to explore the minds of those folk who have run off elsewhere, in what will probably be a futile effort to make then return and read things again. Well maybe read just the one post and then run off again.

So what is it that will turn the eye of a hardened blogger?  Well as has been mentioned recently by Miss Lily one of the main subjects that bloggers flock to like moths to a lamp post (something I either blogged about or was in my head to write about and I forgot?), is how to write a book. Not just any book though, but a highly successful book that folk will buy in their millions making the writer a wealth person, allowing then to sit in book shops signing books or better still write a blog about how to write a  successful book.

The principles are fundamentally easy so it is possible to miss out the whole write a successful book bit, I mean Einstein’s Physics teacher did not write Einstein’s Principles of Physics but without his teachers he would have become a train driver or something like that. So it is that I can tell you exactly what you need to do to be that successful writer.

Firstly a good book and a successful book may not exactly be the same, sounds odd but sadly very true. Let’s face it Fifty Shades of Grey might have been successful but many have said it written rather badly. . . . I do not know as I have never read it.  It is the sort of book I have no interest in reading, and this is the next rather important point, certain types of book attract more readers that others. Adult romantic fiction is read by huge numbers of women around the world and I guess a percentage of men. Books like Harry Potter appealed too many from teenagers to adults and still does (written rather well), and wizards and Magic are again a subject that is very popular. There is also science fiction, period drama and various mixes of the lot. So pick your target audience with care, appealing to gay unicyclists who love cats if fine and you might write a brilliant book that will be bought by 99% of your target audience, but if that target audience is small then you can kiss success goodbye unless someone thinks HANG ON a film about gay unicyclists who love cats, now that has legs . . . . . . . (and a wheel).

Another important point is editing. You will need a well edited book (I never edit stuff COS), it is not for the readers, but for the publishers. Publishers are a funny lot who will say things like O he wrote there not their or where not we’re or wear or so on and so on. I mean most readers like a good story, and life in reality is not edited and folk write and talk badly in life, but publishers just don’t like it so to get published you need to play the game and write proppper like what I did (sorry doo).

Remember adding some graphic sex and sweaty bodies that heave and have huge yearning swollen parts appears to help loads but not in children’s books, and anyway there are only so many things you can do with a can of squirty cream and a pair of bicycle clips, although it might help if you are appealing to those gay unicyclists who love cats, they are little terrors you know when they are not on their unicycles chasing the cats about with a tin of pilchards.

My final tip is what ever you do, do not write like me or it will all end it a terrible melodrama with Zombies chasing you, and JK Rowling and Steven Spielberg telling you to GO AWAY AND TAKE THOSE PESKY SEAGULLS WITH YOU.

So there you have it everything you ever needed to know about how to write a successful book and all entirely free in one small-ish blog post. . . . 

Yes I'm sorry . . . .  this is a child friendly blog and I have left you having an awkward conversation trying to explain what bicycle clips are for. 

A day in the Life of King Street

I have been busy again today with one thing and another so as a cunning plan I have decided to post one of the more popular posts of recent times, in order to try and recover some interest in my humble blog. . . I mean I draw pictures and there is not an advert in sight here, this is a visitor friendly blog, unlike my house where I would probably shout at you and set the cats on you. Not that I'm a nasty chap but no one wants strangers turning up at your front door smiling and being nice, its just plain suspicious so best just to show them who is boss. Which here is probably the cats as it happens, they even attack me when I turn up unexpected.

Anyway back to the post, this was a popular post written in a haphazard way while I was struggling with writers block. I write much of my blog on the cuff so to speak (a saying that appears to be gibberish if you ask me) and writing is as far as I'm concerned the only way to get through writers block. I know it seems odd but it is not. As for writing popular posts well I try but I feel I may be slightly doomed although having said that it tends to be the slightly odd ones that end up popular so I get rather confused. Maybe folk are out to get me just because I set the cats on them and they have to run for their lives.  So here it is another repeated post

A Day in the Life of King Street

George had moved to King Street because of his obsession with all things connected with space and aliens, in fact it was this obsession that led to him painting his wife Mavis green. She did not object too much although she did say later that she would have preferred to have been warned in advance rather than wake up in the morning covered in green paint.  George himself said that he had never entirely understood Mavis and by painting her green she made a very good Martian, and he was working on a Martian Phrase book. Although Mavis was convinced she was speaking English and told George that everyone else understood her perfectly well.

It was rather ironic then that several weeks later George received a text message from Mavis to tell him she had been abducted by humans who were planning to do terrible experiments on her.  In reality she had run off with Mr Clark the librarian to Spain because the stress of being a Martian had become to much and as she told Mr Clark, George was completely mad.

Several houses along King Street at No24 lived Harold Beckman famous as the first British man in space, who spent several weeks on the International Space Station until the accident where he uttered those famed words HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM. . . . AGAIN?  Since then Harold always kept a small can of oil about his person and insisted that his door hinges were oiled once a week.  As he told the postman on many occasions as he oiled the hinges of his front door . . . NOBODY WANTS A SQUEAKY DOOR ON THE AIR LOCK. . .  He often referred to the front porch as the air lock. It was his four days trapped in the airlock of the International Space Station that had brought this way of thinking about, and his early retirement was finally thought for the best after he started to wrap his head in Kitchen foil and was found oiling the wrong end of the cat.

After Mavis was abducted (ran off) George spent many hours discussing this with Harold who said the Aliens were everywhere sabotaging all the critical doors around the world so that one day when they invaded folk would find they were immobilized by jammed doors making mankind useless and unable to defend themselves.

Their friendship however came to an abrupt halt when a young assistant at Boots the Chemist handed over some photographs he had developed for Mr Harold Beckman of them (George and Harold) both dressed as Penguins in a state of arousal. It was a great scoop for the local press but not so good for Harold, George or the assistant at Boots the Chemist who was sacked for breach of confidentiality.  Harold kept his front door locked after that and George ran off to Spain to escape from sniggering neighbours, where he found Mavis working in a tapas bar. She told George that her mind had been wiped by men in white coats so she had forgotten about him. They got back together after a bit and are now often seen scampering along the Spanish beaches wearing Penguin suits and giggling.