An upbeat tale for Halloween . . . . .

Once upon a time in the Grand Imperial Empire of BartaBiska there was a strange little old lady called Cropella Clipclop who without fail every Halloween would head off as darkness fell to go trick or treating.  Well in most parts of the world this would seem rather normal but not in the Grand Imperial Empire of BartaBiska. You see the Grand Imperial Empire of BartaBiska was run by a single and incredibly wealth family called the Hozzam-Blushfolds who as we all know are the owners of the famous Blushfold International Folding Company. 

Well we all need things to have folds in them or have things that need folding from Christmas cards to car components and as you might expect this has made the Hozzam-Blushfolds rich beyond the dreams of the average man.  However they were not a cheery bunch and banned Halloween many many many years ago and nobody dared to go Trick or Treating. . . . . . . With one exception, a strange little old lady called Cropella Clipclop who every year without fail would go to every house in the kingdom and shout . . . Trick or Treat. . .  No one knew how she managed to get to every home, but she did and everyone would give her a small treat.

It was all very odd because although the Hozzam-Blushfolds had tried many times to stop her she always managed to go out and visit everyone and she always said to them all . . . . I’m ninety five you know. . . . Although some thought she must be older as she had visited some houses for over eighty years saying the same thing.  And she always finished the night at the Hozzam-Blushfolds huge mansion where they would reluctantly give her the small treat she expected.

You see another rather odd thing about  Cropella Clipclop was no one ever asked her to do a trick, no one knew why but they knew that it was something you just did not do. . . it was one of those little mysteries of life that folk except.  And it was even odder really, because her hat and wand were cheap ones she had got from Woolworths years ago, so she was hardly that scary.

Then one year she said . . . I’m ninety five you know. I have decided that this will be my last year going out trick or treating. . . . Well that was a shock to everyone, but they gave her a small treat as they had always done but were very sad. Then as always she arrived at the Hozzam-Blushfolds huge mansion last, and said . . I’m ninety five you know. I have decided that this will be my last year going out trick or treating . . . .  Well they were very pleased because it was Cropella Clipclop’s last ever visit, but the now very elderly Arch Duke Hozzam-Blushfold VIII sniggered and said. . .  OK . .  TRICK THEN . . . .  (OOoooooo well that was a big mistake).  Cropella Clipclop replying . . .  I thought you would never ask. . . .  Raising her plastic wand from Woolworth's and . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  

Well no one for sure knows what happened that night but in the morning the entire Hozzam-Blushfold family fled the Grand Imperial Empire of BartaBiska never to be seen again and left a message to say that the good folk of BartaBiska could now go out every Halloween. They even made sure that each Halloween their now deserted huge mansion was turned into a theme park for all the people of the nation to have a big party and lots of fun, which they did.

As for Cropella Clipclop, true to her word she never went out trick or treating ever again although she did have lots of visitors every Halloween, until one year Cropella Clipclop and her large Black Cat called Broomstick vanished. No one knows where they went, although it is said a large black cat is seen smiling in the shadows sometimes on Halloween.

And so with that I wish you all a Happy Christmas . . . (sorry Halloween) . . . It’s the shops I’m confused.    

House Signs, Halloween and untold tales that have not been told.

Yesterday was quite busy which led to the repeat of an old poem. Today has been fairly chilled which means that really I should not repeat an old poem or post but I might just repeat one of the old Halloween stories, because that will save me loads of extra work.  Sometimes towards the end of a lazy-ish day the last thing you fancy doing it writing clever stuff or leaping about, not that I leap about while I write my blog that would be stupid on many counts. One of which is my old PC can not leap, it is too old and Knackered and another of which is I am too old and Knackered, you see I and my PC are in harmony we are as one.

One small Job I did get done today was to finally finish the new House sign, remember I did say that DIY works on an exponential time curve so that last tiny bit has taken a while. I still have a wedding present to finish and there are tiny bits of painting to do in the kitchen.

There was a village hall meeting in our kitchen last night and folk nodded approvingly and said things like Oooooooo that’s very shiny red and stuff like that so it means folk seen to like it. It is good if folk like what you have done, there is nothing worse than then going O MY GOD have you been burgled or make comments like O dear who chose that colour still it matches that decomposing mouse the cat mauled that is rotting in the corner. . . 

I now need to fix our new house sign to the big post at the end of the drive securely so I may need to phone the very friendly builder to see if he will lend me his cordless drill as my drill has a cord and the end of the drive is a long way off. That sounds dead posh but it is not, we just have a very long drive. Mmmm that might still sound a bit decadent, but the keeper of the gate is allowed to wear informal clothes these days.

Right OK I will go and find a good Halloween post to repeat now. . . What about the one where the large man eating rabbit peers through the window of a mad android scarecrow that is making soup out of kittens and . . . . NO you are right that was not entirely kitten friendly

Well what about the confused Aliens who arrive on the night of Halloween and spent a lot of time trying to communicate with small children dresses as Zombies . . . OK yes it was silly

OK the eyeball lost in the Lollipop factory . . . . . Right I sense I am not doing well

The sea monster that ate fish fingers

OK that’s it I appear to have run out of words, I may ramble a lot, have you noticed I ramble a lot. I can imagine some professional publisher going why is he rambling, this is rubbish this is not how to write. . . .well YA SUCKS BOO is my response to tha,t no wonder books have a certain sort of uniformity to them with there covers and pages full of words and page numbers that increase in a rational logical fashion one after the other.

DAMN I may have got a bit distracted, did I say I finished painting the new house sign today. . . . .   AH DAMN again I did.

Double, double toil and trouble and Harry Potter and Crushed Velvet Sofa's

Last year on the run up to Halloween I did a quick re-write of a certain Shakespeare poem or was it Wordsworth or Jackson Pollock, and this was it. Now you might be thinking he is repeating stuff again (thats me not Jackson Pollock) but sadly today events have made it impossible to do anything else. Now I could just think sod it and not bother, but I am not that sort of chap so I am repeating stuff instead which is probably worse. It is a bit of culture though even if it is a bit like sticking a safety pin through the nose of the Mona Lisa painted, incidental between 1503 and 1517 by my old mate Leonardo who got a bit infatuated with the woman who worked at the local Spar shop and sold him Sherbet flying Saucers which in turn made him come up with his mad idea for a flying machine . . . . . Ooooooooo he was a bit of a one that Leonardo, it is probably best if we dont mention his drawings of body parts and his choice of soft furnishing for his own Drawing Room, I mean Pink and light Orange with grey crushed velvet . . . .    

AH I appear to have got a bit distracted OK back to that (repeated) Poem        

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,

In Hogwarts caldron boil and bake;

Eye of Potter, and toe of frog,

Wizard’s hat, and tongue of dog,

Ron Weasley’s hair, and blind-worm's sting,

A wizards leg, and owlet's wing,—

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn, and caldron bubble.

"Mad-Eye" Moody’s hat; tooth of wolf;

Witches' mummy; maw and gulf

Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark;

Boot of Malfoy digg'd i the dark;

Liver of Mister Sirius Black;

Gall of goat, and horns of yak

Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;

Nose of Turk, and Miss Grangers lips;

Finger of Albus Percival Brian Dumbledore

deliver'd by post, from the Argos Store

Make the gruel thick and slab:

Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,

For the ingrediants of Hogworts caldron.

Double, double toil and trouble;

Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Cool it with Harry Potter’s blood,

Then the charm is firm and as much use as mud. 

HAH AH HA HAHah ha hahah ha ha h ha h hah hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah hah ah ahah aha hahahahha ha ha hah ah  HAH AHAH AHAHAH AH AHAHAH HA HA HA AH AH AHA HA HA H AHA HA H AH AA  

A Day in the Life of a Blogger and other events

Yes this is a snowman and a vampire drawn by a small child

The Vampire is the one with the ears

And they both look a bit evil to me

This is my drawing of Thomas the Tank Engine

I was told it is rubbish by a Small Child

I think the addition of the Owl and the Pussy Cat

Confused the Small Child

I have had a busy day that involved my attempt at making a gate for outside, I say attempt because it is a bit rustic, but looks OK and it will do the job required of it. Which is to stop the winter wind sneaking round the corner of the house at the back and laughing at me. It has done this for a couple of year now and I have threatened it with retribution at least once, but all it does is howl a bit and carry on. So that is that, it has had its last chance, mind you I did not get to put the new rustic gate on its hinges as we had visitors one of whom was a small enthusiastic and noisy child.  I am not that good with small children with their leaping about having a good time and it is much worse when the little critters like you, which makes it much harder to scare them.

To try and keep this small enthusiastic child quiet the pair of us did a bit of drawing. Now I don’t know how many of you have experience of drawing with small enthusiastic children but they are to put it bluntly not easy to keep focused on what they are drawing. We started with Thomas the Tank Engine, well he told me it was Thomas but it looked a bit like a demented mad axe murdering train to me. And I know it has been a while since I have seen Thomas (I prefer Ivor the Engine it is a million times better) but one thing I know is it does not have 14 pairs of wheels. I tried to help by drawing the Fat Controller. . . .I suspect he is not called that now. . .  but my controller was actually rather thin and looked like a priest out of some old western with a parrot on his shoulder. The small person then drew the fat controller but it looked a bit like Edward Scissorhands to me but very very thin and sort of tree shaped. . . .  Small people are (not to beat about the bush as the saying goes) total rubbish at drawing and trying to explain the principles of perspective is like trying to teach an Earthworm to climb a ladder.

The Small child soon got bored and decided it was time to leave and head off for his Sunday roast while I now slightly the worse for wear headed out into the cold wind that was still laughing at me even though it could see what I was planning to do. I then managed to hit my thumb with a hammer which was a bit sore, so I shouted at the wind a lot and waved my hammer at it in defiance. Starting a small stampede among a passing group of elderly walkers I had not spotted until then who thought I was mad. And a man on a bicycle fell into the hedge thinking I was the God Thor arriving to attack him, apparently he said he has been expecting it to happen for some time. I tried to tell him I was not Thor but it is tricky when you are holding a large hammer in the air and shouting so in the end I agreed and said he was now free to cycle in peace. . . .sort of. 

Some days never quite go to plan  

The Exponential Time Curve of DIY, Lists & Zombies

So what did I do today well not a lot I did manage to clean up the last window in the Kitchen, which has been lingering about as a job to do for some time now.  I have over time come to realize that working on the house you actually live in has its own issues that need to be taken into account.  One of the more important of these is the completion of the task, OK it sounds dead easy, but it is not. You see you start off all keen and enthusiastic and the job skips along like a kangaroo chasing a porcupine on a skateboard, but the nearer you get to completion the slower you work. Eventually you will come to a grinding halt although it can be difficult to judge at what point this will happen; with luck it will be with something tiny left to do that folk will not notice. 

Now some of you will be thinking OOOOoooooo no I would never do that, but anyone who does any DIY on their own home, which here in Britain is loads of folk will know this is a universal truth.  I am sure that there is a wise old Chinese saying from back in time that says something like. . . . . No man should ever completely finish working on his own home if he wishes to remain happy. . .  It is a wise if sexist saying, but back then old Chinese sayings could be a bit like that, lets face it political correctness is not something history is abundant in.

However in respect to completing the work in the kitchen this was the last awkward little job to get done and it is all chilled from now on with only a few tiny wafer thin bits left to do which based on the Exponential Time Curve of DIY (that’s Do It Yourself if this is a term not used outside of Britain).  So in a mere 15 years it will all be done. However there are loads of other jobs to do I have a list which was given to myself and our friendly builder Chris. Although Chris the friendly builder was given his own list by his wife so he is a bit busy at present, well up to the point he has almost finished then he will be back. We have a project to start in the garden building a Welsh Chapel lookalike Summerhouse and bolthole to escape from passing Zombies.   Zombies avoid Welsh Chapels because they will say. . . It is full of Hymn. . . . . HA HAH ahah ah ah a ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah a hah  

Talking of which I still have to write my all new Halloween tale of an old witch from a strange Kingdom where celebrating Halloween was banned until one year when . . . . . . OK that is enough of a hint for now. . . . . Exciting isn’t it . . . AH DAMN

And a bit of Poetry to keep you happy

The strange world of twitter

Is full of bits of litter

Jumbled words in a few short lines

From the jumbled heads of jumbled minds

Where has the Tarra-gone

It’s been missing for some Thyme

It ran off to Coriander

Having heard the Garlic had been crushed

And the Chives all chopped up Fine. 

House Insurance, Floods and Huge Secret Pipes Underground

When we moved to our humble little house, OK it is not that small once you get in it, in fact it is about two and a half times bigger that it appears on the outside but this is all a distraction from the point of this post. You see when we moved here about four years ago our old house insurance company said . . . . OOOOO that post code is a low risk flood area so we cant INSURE your house, but here is the name of one that will . . . . Well it was a bit of a worry, but the new company insured it OK at almost the same price provided we had a £7000 flood excess. Well I looked and scratched my head trying to work out how the house could flood which seemed rather unlikely, but we got insurance cover and all has been well until the start of this month when the insurance company wrote to us and said. . . . OOOOOOOO look we need to increase your premium a bit because you are now in a high risk flood area . . . . . What I thought . . . .  how did that happen.

Well they wanted to increase the premium by more that twice, which to my mind was madness. I mean I have never worked out exactly how a house where all the fields to one side of it are between 10 and 50 feet lower and head gently downhill for several miles and there is no high ground above us, is actually going to flood.

So I thought OK I will research this and checked the Governments Environmental Agency website flood maps and had a good chat with all the old locals, who remember the old days of biblical flooding and plagues of frogs and the like. And when I did this I discovered that rather that being a low risk flood area we are in fact a no risk flood area.  So I have been complaining to the insurance company about it a bit , but a man said . . . Oooo but the thing is your house sits on the ground and so water might seep into it from below, or there might be a huge water pipe below it that no one knows about. . . .  NO I am not joking he said that.

In fact it appears that insurance companies now fear flooding a great deal, probably due to some of the big floods that have happened in recent years in areas where there is a flood risk. Not in a small village on a hill where there is no flood risk unless most of Britain has vanished under water. So I have removed the flood insurance from our house, because it CAN NOT flood and have saved over £600 by doing it. OK if the washing machine decides to go . . . OOOOO I don’t feel well . . . BLAAaaaaiiiirrr and is sick all over the utility room it appears I am still covered. But I am not covered if the secret huge water pipe hidden under the village that no one knows about decided to burst and all the water seeps up though the floor.   Had my house not been attached to the ground then everything would have been fine. . . . I think not, I like my house attached to the ground to me that seems safer.

One small but very ironic point is the main office of the insurance company according to the Environmental Agency is in one of the highest risk areas in Britain for flooding, next to the River Thames. Although I am told they are not worried about it as they have a huge secret pipe leading the water away, where it will be dumped in a small unsuspecting village in the middle of nowhere.

I also went to IKEA today but that is another story.

Link to Environmental Agency Flood Map       

Listening to Wooden Poles and Phoning Home (sort of)

Just in case anyone is wondering why there is a picture of a Zombie

AH I DONT KNOW . . . I sort of drew a Zombie

Sorry about that

Well today I did a bit of painting making the new House Sign look posh, although it looked rather posh anyway so I am making it a bit posher.  It did involve having to go out and buy some paint as the paints I had lurking about in the garage were not only rather old but were not the right colours.  The trip was uneventful except for one small thing that left me pondering, so I thought I know that is a good little curiosity of a thing to mention on my blog.  I think I can not be the only person who thinks Ooooooooo Phew that will make my blog more interesting, when they see something slightly odd.

So I can hear you type do tell us of this curious thing which you have told is curious but then gibber about for ages before getting to the point. So I will get to the point it was a man listening to a pole . . . . Exactly what is all that about. To give you slightly more detail in was a man in a orange day glow jacket using some sort of stick looking listening device, listening to a wooden telegraph pole or maybe it was power, I cant remember now but the poles are about the same size.  Now I have seen folk listening to the ground with purpose made listening sticks it is a common way to hear water leaks underground, but poles with overhead cables. Maybe it some sort of new magic trick being used by those folk at GCHQ who are listening to wooden poles and they can hear every word we say type or even think. I mean its magic so who can tell. But it was a first for me I might at some point Google it and see if it has a rational reason behind it, the only one I could think of and which is sadly very very boring (no pun intended) is they might be listening for Death-Watch Beetle. Those little critters love a piece of wood and I have a feeling it is about this time of year they start all that clicking to their mates.

I know that was far too rational for this blog and therefore I have dismissed that idea as total lunacy. I suspect the truth will turn out to be an Alien trying to Phone home. Aliens have been convinced they can phone home ever since that Steven Spielberg put the thought in their minds. And we all know that it is a futile thing to do; and listening to the post is just going to make you a laughing stock once I put the video on YouTube, so all his mates back on Pluto can see it.     

An Apology to J K Rowling, A Seagull and no Poetry

Well I have been on Twitter defending my old mate J K Rowling, OK when I say old that is a bit unfair as she is younger than I am, and I am the Slightly Eccentric Child of Cyberspace, so Miss Rowling is well young I guess.  And I say mate well that is not entirely true as I think secretly she is not a great fan of my poetry and thinks of me as one of the Vogons now, and sort of looks the other way going OOOOOOOoooo look a seagull. To tell the truth it is an understandable thing to do as a celeb.  Celebs tend to get followed by all sorts of nutters, I would like to make it clear I am not a nutter. . . . OK a bit mad but actually rather normal even if when I tell my family I'm normal they all laugh and fall about pointing.

Still the point is while doing my bit to defend her (like one of those knights from the old days) because she lives in Scotland and went to the Rugby match where she had a posh seat in a good spot which then upset someone who is a pro-independence supporter. I sort of have run out of time to write stuff so am repeating my own Yes campaign post.

I really cant understand how having a go at J K Rowing helps those who would like to see Scotland become independent. If anything it makes us look like a wild bunch of marauding mad men who are out of control running about in kilts and shouting at anyone who passes . . . . . . . . AH OK   . . . . DAMN


Anyway Sorry about a few of My fellow Scotsmen Miss Rowling 


And here is my old Post showing why Scotland should be Independent


It is rather interesting that in the great debate on Scottish independence, to date no one has asked me my opinion on the Scottish referendum debate. Some of you will be thinking why should Rob Z Tobor get involved in the first place, what can some mad bloke living on the English Welsh border add to the debate that has not been discussed so far.

Well you see as my loyal, slightly quirky, but rather intelligent regular followers will know I often look at things in a slightly different way to the masses and so can help persuade a few people to consider how they finally vote when we get to crunch time on the 18^th September. There are all sorts of issues involved in this, and at present a certain amount of mud slinging and scare tactics being used by both sides. This is not the way forward, although I may add some to my argument in order to liven it up a bit, after all David Cameron and Alex Salmond are not the most inspiring folk to watch or listen too,  although maybe Mr Salmond has the edge slightly on banter.

So where do I stand and why, well I am a pro independence person because my family have come from the wilds of Scotland since before Bruce Lee, sorry Robert the Bruce was knee high to a spider. In fact the old ancestral blood goes back to a time when we were wild men in the hills fighting everyone including each other and shouting ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME SONNY dishing out Glasgow kisses before Glasgow was Glasgow, and we all spoke in a strange dialect no one understood.  AH YES I see your point it may still be a bit like that on a Saturday night after a few wee chasers and deep fried haggis, chips and curry sauce. I always remember someone telling me that after a really good night out, he assumed it was good as he did not remember it, he woke up in the door way of R S McColl in Aberdeen in the morning with enough chip suppers to feed about twenty people, although by then they were cold and had sort of congealed into a single lump.  Still it made a hell of a breakfast, sort of the hair of the dog so to speak (I know more silly sayings).

OK back to the point you are keen to hear exactly why folk in Scotland should vote for independence, it is the financial or economic or commercial or political arguments that have made me think AH YES this is what Scotland should do . . . . . . . . Well NO who can really predict what would happen; the truth is no one with any certainty.

You see if Scotland says NO then the status quo will remain as it is now, nothing will change, we will still grumble about the weather, politicians being corrupt, the cost of a cup of tea and next doors Armadillo making holes in the lawn at night. To vote No is the easy safe choice the one to go for if you wish to see everything just carry on as it has for ages, the one that will let the powers that be just smile and be smug. However if Scotland says lets go for it Lets vote Yes, it will be a whole new adventure not just for Scotland but the entire UK, the UK even gets a new flag (WELL COOL). Imagine it . . . . all change for loads of things, flag makers will love it for one and then there will be all sorts of other stuff no one has thought of yet, it will be dead exciting all round, both in England and Scotland and it will be a monumental historical moment in British History something to remember and tell your neighbours cat about in years to come.

This is a one off opportunity something that will never happen again, a NO vote will seal Scotland’s fate forever as the hilly bit on the top of England where folk talk funny. A YES you see; I suspect in the future, if it sort of went wrong, would see the rest of UK saying . . . . . Why not come and join us again we will even let you keep your kilts and bagpipes and talk in a funny way about felling a bit peely-wally and even allow you to sing Flower of Scotland.

So vote YES or  . . . . . .  Ye aff yer heid . . . . ya Bampot Eeejits

I rest my case . . . . . . . .for now. 

One Shade of Grey and a House Sign

Today saw the arrival of two things one of which is exciting and the other not exciting, both are heavier than one might expect and both involve the colour grey . Not that grey is an exciting colour or even a colour in the way that folk tend to think of colour, in fact I not sure if it even counts in scientific terms as colour or not. Although to be fair none of this actually matters anyway so I will get back to the point.

The first thing arrived with a courier in a white van who was friendly and chirpy and gave me a great huge heavy Catalogue from a well known store. Well we looked at it and said O MY GOD that’s heavy and big and why us, why have they sent us this big huge catalogue that no one wanted. So we looked through it as you do, as us humans are as curious as cats and just need to have a little look inside to see if it has an exciting treat within.  In this case it did not, firstly 90% of it was women’s clothing designed for 20 year old anorexics; why do they always do that, surely in this day and age fashion stores should have learnt that folk are generally normal sized. And I am not convinced that filling this catalogues with 20 year olds is actually aiming at their target market. To make matters worse it appears the hip colour for this Autumn is a sort of grey hint of greyness with some added grey.

Well I guess you can tell this was not the exciting thing of the two things that arrived. No that was our new house sign which has been made by the Son in Law of the Ghost Writer who is as grumpy as ever but has his uses at times( that’s the Ghost Writer by the way). Made, based on my drawing but tweaked a bit to deal with the fact my design got a bit carried away. He said A fully operation steam powered house sigh with light up letters and a steam organ that played The ace of spades was slightly more than he was prepared to make. But it looks very cool and it is now my job to paint it and get it attached to the post at the end of the drive.  Replacing the present one which no one can see easily and which is, to put it bluntly not so good these days, but it has probably been there for thirty years at least. Actually no one can read it any longer so unless folk know where we live they can’t find us. . . . mmmmmmm I think that sort of might be true for everyone, but I hope you might know what I mean.

And we have just had Bangers and Mash for tea. . . Well Cool. 

A short history of Halloween's Origins

Well I admit it this is a repeat of last years post for the same day but the thing is I am busy. . . . . NO really I am not lying, I am very busy . . . . . I mean I have tea to drink and cakes to eat and small things to point at and go OOOOOOooooo what is that then its a small thing, lets poke at it. So this is it; I have even used the same picture, just how lazy is that then. . . . HO HUM . . . And just before I hand over to last year I would like to add that I do have a new idea for an entirely new Halloween story for 2015 that is dead good although it is still in my head, not actually written down yet. Strangely they always seem so much better in my head than they appear written down which is odd. . . (Witch is ODD . . . . .  HA HAHAH hah ah a ha ha haha hah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha).

OK back to last years interesting and useful information  . . . . . . .    

Halloween what’s that all about then, is definitely one of the big questions of the moment and it is time someone answered it properly. If you search cyberspace you will be bombarded with loads of stuff, but it will all be a bit wishy washy (no not as in Pantomime but as in vague).  This is what always happens when paganism meets religion, but not here no, you will get to know exactly what’s going on.

Firstly it is important to take note of the time of year, and the weather, this year in Britain is a classic to explain why this all started up. We had a fairly good summer and the sun sort of held on over September and then October arrived and the weather has crashed big time, it is dull, damp and getting cold.  So way back in the days when we were all tribal and waved sticks and worshipped the sun and the like (the good old days) what did folk do to get themselves through the long hard winters, remember there was no central heating unless you were a Roman. Well they had parties or as we like to call them now Rituals, yes everyone likes a party but in general we need a reason for them stuff like birthdays, passing exams, catching your first crocodile and the like.  Back in the old days folk would associate these events with their local god and Halloween also got linked to celebrating the dead. Things were different then, death was not all gravestones tears and flowers, it was big fires feasting and dressing up.  Remember the old ancestors did not vanish they were and are still about and it was good manners to show some respect an maybe burn a huge effigy of an Elk and wear a big mask and go and visit all the locals, eat, drink, dance, cheer and wave pointy sticks.

However main stream religion got involved and said it was a Christian event in a cunning plan to get rid of all these other gods and effigies. But old customs are difficult to get rid of and before you know it small children were doing trick or treat all over the world. In particular the whole event appealed to the USA having arrived with the Irish and Scottish way back (they were good at this stuff) and the spirits of the dead were turned into monsters, mummies, vampires, huge things with pointy teeth, witches and the like. This allowed the corporate business world in the USA to make a killing (no pun intended) by selling all sorts of gruesome characters made out of China’s very best genuine recycled plastic. As well as packets of dodgy sugary things that are needed to give to the swarms of trick or treat children that turn up at your door sort of saying things like . . . . .GIVE US STUFF OR WE SET FIRE TO THE RABBIT HUTCH. . . 

These days with it all being witches and monsters and the like religion has got all funny about it and say it’s the work of the devil. They really should have just left it alone and let the pagans have a party for their long lost ancestors round a big fire and eating and generally having a good time, much like they do at Christmas. . . . . . . AH.

Anyway there you have it that is the Origin of Halloween . . . . sort of    

Poetry for Red Indian Spirit Guides that can not type (A first me thinks)

O yes Chickens

May like to cross the Road

for reasons I have not been told

But they are better at it than Pheasants are

Who tend to get Squashed

By the passing car

As for Ducks

They may go Quack

But Social Skills

They truly Lack

As I have often found out at my own personal cost

OK if you are wondering the reason for tonight's post, it is lack of time. And it only takes the blink of an eye to create such poetry so I have blinked my eye and this is what happened. Why chickens, why pheasants and why ducks I really dont know. In fact I sometimes put all this down to that friendly old Red Indian Guide I have mentioned in the past who is very good, but rubbish at typing. So between him and my hands which are also rubbish at typing and my brain which is sort of rubbish, and getting worse by the day it is a wonder we create anything.  

Anyway as I said time is limited and it is therefore time to depart to my bed and sleep. . . Or as my trusty Red Indian Spirit would say . . . White man speak with forked tongue Kemosabe . . . Actually I think he means . . . All men speak with forked tongue. . . . He is a wise old Red Indian Guide and thats for sure even if he cant type.

Predictions, Pirates, Sailors, Syria and the End of the World (again)

I have cunningly disguised my bit of 3D art 

for now as it is not entirely finished 

I am back and not before time I can hear you all say . . . . OK I can at least pretend you are all pleased to see me back at the helm of my favourite steam powered PC; with its very annoying and overworked fan squeaking at me as it desperately tries to deal with the internet and my spelling.  Well it was a lovely week pondering the world down in South Wales in a semi secluded lodge near the coast. It was quite interesting watching the sailing folk as they clambered in and out of their assortment of boats, but I was left with one rather puzzling question by the end of the week. You see you would think of sailing folk as lean mean fighting machines leaping from mast to mast with daggers and swords held between their teeth like pirates of old. This however was far from the truth indeed. As most of the ones I saw were rather unfit and overweight and at least half of them seemed rather elderly. Maybe this is why traditional pirates died out as a species, as they were just unable to sing (sorry Swing) from ship to ship on ropes going HAR HAR HAR.

Now while I was away doing some arty stuff watching sailors? and thinking, I sort of remembered something from way way back about that chap Nostradamus, sadly folk keep doing sneaky stuff to his predictions to try and keep him up and running, but I do recollect he first said the start of the End of the World would happen back in 1990 something, and since then folk have lost interest (when it never happened) and just use Google instead to predict everything. But I’m sure I remember that it was all due to start going down hill with war in the Middle-East and I am certain Syria was the predicted flash point. Look this was a long time ago now, we have not chatted for ages on account of Mr Nostradamus not being entirely alive. In fact the last time we met he tried to eat my brains and groaned a lot which did make me suspicious back then.

OK back to the point Syria is in a bit of a mess at present and both Russia and the USA are trying to bomb it to bits while avoiding accidently bombing one another. Now there is no doubt that President Putin is far more gung ho than President Obama but if say Mr Trump became President Trump, then I suspect he would be up for a bit of brinkmanship against President Putin. Let’s face it they are not going to be buddies and chatting on the phone to deal with those tricky international issues.

So maybe that Mr Nostradamus might have been right about the End of the World starting in the Middle East after all. I plan to wrap my head in tin foil, write poetry and do some art while hiding under the dinning table. . . . . still it could be worse I could own a VW. 

A Message from South Wales . . . . And other stuff

I know what you are all thinking . . . . . where has he gone. what is he doing, do any of us care

Well I will be back next week and will get back into the swing of things as fast as possible, although I do have to run away on Wednesday so even next week is not entirely chilled.

So far this week I have seen some goldfish, listened to a singing fridge freezer which is now ticking. . . . . I dont know what that is about but it is a bit odd. I have looked at some plants, eaten food including a huge plate of fish and chips which was huge but good, but was huge. And found and then lost a very interesting shell on a beach. 

I am also very busy making a very late wedding present that needs to be sent to the USA only it is a rather fragile paper sculpture picture type thing so I need to use cunning to make sure it can travel that far without damage or falling apart. . . . I Have A Plan.

So all in all the Blog and cyberspace are suffering or some might say improving, but I will return soon very very soon. I should write a poem for Poetry Day only it is late now and I will leave this until I have more time. I am even pondering entering a poetry competition where I will be a bit rebellious and do a sneaky with the theme as I have thought of a clever way to turn the subject matter of Flowers into Zombies . . . . Yes I will come last but its not the winning its all about being ones self and saying . . . . . .  This is me so YA SUCKS BOO . . . .but in a nice poetic way. Mind you I do have to pay to enter so I will write a damn good Zombie Poem.

OK I am off now to draw and sleep and tomorrow will be in the sun on the beach of Saundersfoot . . . . . I will be the one shouting LOOK OUT ITS A ZOMBIE SEAGULL . . . . . 

Goodnight.        

Poetry for the End of the World

Well after a serious post to show that I can be serious and nod in a knowing way at matters of great importance appears to have gone down like a lead balloon. Has anyone ever made a lead balloon to prove this saying one way or the other . . . I suspect not, although that is something of a distraction from the point I am trying to make.

Yes Exactly. . . .  Yes after my serious attempt to be serious I have decided to return to the moderate safety of the safe ground of poetry. I mean everyone loves poetry don’t they, Youtube is full of poets quoting Wordsworth and Byron and the like making a small fortune from advertising because there are millions of teenagers flocking to their sites in order to hear the words of (or in my case read the words) of us Poets as we ponder things like flowers, love, tigers, and all sorts (not the sweets). . . . . .So I have just written a poem about the End of the World to cheer you up . . . . . . . . AH DAMN.

It was a bit of surprise when a young lad pressed the button to launch the Atomic Bomb

He was only six and all his mates all knew him by the simple name of Tom

Well as you can guess he was a little upset, and when folk then asked him Why

All he said was, “it was big and shiny and very red and I didn’t know everyone was going to Die”

So to cheer him up someone went out and got him ice cream and a big slice of Cake

But everything was radioactive so that was rather a big Mistake

So now all that is left is little old me writing quietly my poetry

And a huge steam powered Matilda dressed as a witch shouting Trick or Treat and a very small Mutant Vampire Bee.

And a Shark

that can

Glow in the Dark

Mr Jeremy Corbyn and the Nuclear Deterrent. . . . The Big Question

Yesterday I was somewhat amused by the fact that Mr Jeremy Cordyn was given a hard time for saying that if he was Prime Minister he would not press the big red button and nuke folk.  Now you might say such a subject is not amusing and I would tend to agree particularly as there seem to be a lot of folk who are keen that Mr Corbyn should press the big red button.  To be fair I don’t think they are suggesting that should he become Prime Minister that he rushes round to Number Ten descends down into the underground nuclear bunker and then presses the button just for the hell of it. What folk are saying is that he should be willing to press the thing under appropriate circumstances. Which we don’t tell folk; and thus it becomes this so called Nuclear Deterrent.

Well that is all well and good, but once you start to think about the logic of a nuclear deterrent, it starts to look a bit irrational as an idea. I mean the . . . if you Nuke us we will Nuke you concept . . . . .  is a bit out dated. As those nations that have Nuclear Weapons are all interdependent economically so the likes of Russia even in the hands of President Putin is not going to fire intercontinental ballistic missiles at Britain or Europe, it would just totally mess up his own country and probably the rest of the world.  The main argument given for these weapons as a deterrent is now rogue states such as North Korea or even Iran (Just a small point, but most Iranians are really nice and friendly . . . not mad Islamic terrorists), but would having nuclear weapons stop a lunatic dictator from trying to disrupt the world order of things. . . . I suspect not, in fact they might even deliberately target a country with nuclear weapons in order to escalate the crisis it would cause.  Lets face it do you think that someone doing that is concerned about the people of their own country provided they have a nuclear bunker to keep  themselves safe in for a while. 

It is also rather hypercritical to say that we need to have the nuclear option as a deterrent, when those counties with nuclear weapons are so keen that those who do not have them don’t get them. Claiming it would increase the risk of a nuclear war and so everything must be done to stop this, (although it is OK for us to have them). If they (Nuclear Bombs) are such a good deterrent then everyone should have them. . . And the shear lunacy of that statement shows just how stupid it is to claim that having nuclear weapons stops there use.

If Britain wants weapons then there are many many very nasty alternative options that will make folk thing twice about attacking us. Just imagine if ISIS (IS of ISIL) were to get hold of nuclear weapons would our so called nuclear deterrent deter them from using it, well I think we can safely say NO with big letters.

My own view is that Mr Corbyn is right and when he is in parliament he should ask those keen to keep nuclear weapons exactly what sort of situation do they think that the Prime Minister is likely to encounter that will require him to press the button and zap a huge number of people maybe millions.

Sorry this is all a bit boring tonight, but as I said (sort of), I do find it strange that folk can find reasons to justify using nuclear weapons and would be interested to know what they are.