An A to Z Coronavirus observational guide. . . W

W

What Next and the World Wide Web

Yes indeed What Next. There are so many things we just don’t know that anticipating what will happen next is far from easy. After all if a vaccine is found quickly and we all get it and the virus vanishes overnight the world could look exactly like it did back at the end of 2019. And by Christmas 2020 most will have forgotten all about it as we complain about the crowds in the shops and folk panic buy toilet rolls because it’s Christmas and the shops might close for two days.  . . . But let’s not be that pessimistic.

The thing is What Happens Next is a big issue as there is already talk of partial lockdowns being maintained until next year with events and businesses where large groups of people meet possibly having to be wait even longer before they can operate normally again. The economic repercussions of Covid-19 could and almost certainly will last for years.

There is one of man’s discoveries though that has made a huge difference in a positive way and that is the World Wide Web (The Internet). It has enabled us to stay in touch with family, buy things we need online, continue to teach our kids, do our banking, continue working, stay sane by keeping our minds active, and write our blogs. OK all this was being done before the Coronavirus struck but we can truly appreciate the internet and its associated technology now. Imagine how isolated many would be if it was not there and how out of date our news of the virus, family and world events would be day to day. Although we possibly would not be scared into panic buying as most of us would be unaware that others were panic buying. And by the time we discovered folk were panic buying it would be too late as everything will have vanished . . . . . .Mmmmmmmmmm as it happened that is what happened to me even with the internet . . . . . . . DAMN.

Life inside on Lockdown 

I am lucky enough to have a nice house with a large garden so can stay sane . . . . . . . sort of.

The Consequences of 24 hour News and other News Stories

I have been pondering what I should write about in my humble little blog tonight and my mind remains blank. You see I try to write a light-hearted blog with the occasional bit of personal insight on the world and a few mad poems about odd things. But I also feel when particularly types of sad news hit the headlines it is at least slightly respectful to be a bit aware of those events and how some may feel.  

We now live (here in Britain) in a world of 24 hour news and multimedia comment and the result of all this is a situation where on TV and in cyberspace, news of terrible tragedies sit side by side with odd little stories like a cat doing a Rubik’s cube or mermaids sighted offshore in the North East of Scotland.  Our media eat these stories both big and small, important and of no consequence with equal ferocity so that with time they all blur into one thing. If you add the adverts of commercial news media then the blur can create even more extremes. I just sometimes wonder if those much younger than myself ever become desensitised to events unless they have some sort of personal implication.   I can get entirely perplexed at times when say the final of a talent show will swamp the likes of Twitter and a terrible earthquake killing hundreds on the same day can pass almost unnoticed and folk tweet OMG because a sword swallowing parrot that can sing The Ace of Spades has won X factor and not the young woman from the sausage factor. I suspect that young woman may have been daydreaming a bit and missed a certain death sausage . . . . . . . . Yes that was a major story for me and that’s for sure.

Well that’s it a little ramble from inside the mind of Rob Z Tobor. You will notice this is a small story of little consequence, but I’m waving my pointy stick at the world a bit, but in a friendly and non-aggressive way, life is too short and precious to be wasted on aggression.

As a final passing point do please try to help and be friendly to you fellow man. Remember if there is a God he will I suspect forgive mistakes but not hate, and if you think that is not right just wait until you meet God, by which time of course it may be a bit late to say sorry,           

Almost True and Interesting Facts for Parties

The other day on Twitter an interesting idea was put forward which having nothing else in my mind I will put to the test. It was those chaps at ShrinkingShrimps (sorry SinkingShip) who are to blame, they happen to mention interesting facts and whether it mattered if they were real. Well this is a very good point and one that is ideally suited to the internet where truth and reality are sometimes a bit grey to say the least.

Therefore I thought maybe I should supply my trusty followers with some interesting facts that sound true which they can use at parties, and when quizzed about them they can turn round and say hand on heart . . . . . Well I read it on the internet from a reliable source. . . .  OK I’m sort of reliable. So I will now attempt to make up entirely plausible interesting facts that might or might not be real bearing in mind I am making them up as I go and have no plans to check anything.

OK here goes

Only 15% of all true facts published on the internet are in fact true

Elvis was afraid of toads

The European Swift never eats blue insects

The top surface area of all aeroplane wings is always 1.0754 times larger than the surface area of the bottom of the wing regardless of size or shape.

Putting the hard drive of your computer upside-down in your freezer for 12 hours will wipe all the data

Because Chinese text is based on images it is impossible to be dyslexic in Chinese.

The Russian Black Moth is the only Moth or butterfly in the world than can flap its wings at different speeds at the same time

Gold is the only precious metal that has been detected on another planet from here on Earth

Monkeys never share apples

Zero is the only number that has been mathematically proved not to exist.

The Empire State building is shrinking by half an inch a year and in theory will only be a third of its present height in 250,000 years time.

A humming bird can react 1000 times faster that a human to a sudden movement

The entire volume of water in the sea rotates round the world slowly once every twenty five years

If you pass a tiny electrical charge though the body of a dead spider within the first twenty four hours of dying it will spin a new web.

Up until 1923 all paper was slightly radioactive.

98% of all humans have legs that are slightly different lengths, this is due to the curvature and rotation of the Earth and is thought to be an evolutionary development to stop us going round in circles.

Well that’s it that is a short list of facts that may or may not be of interest . . . Why not try making up your own set of facts and then we can create Sillypedia the Oracle of all dodgy facts. . . . Hey that sounds like it’s an idea with legs but I'm lazy, and or Mad

Why Pluto Killed Cyberspace and my Triumphant Return

It appears that all is not well in cyberspace, well when I say not well I mean I have lost the internet. OK if you are reading this then it means the internet has returned and all is well again. However if you are not reading this then it is possible that things are not working as they should.  Just imagine the world of cyberspace without me Rob Z Tobor it would not be the same. . . . If you are all having a party and talking about me behind my back I will not be pleased even if I don’t know about it because someone has nicked my broadband.

So here I am typing away in an optimistic way assuming that everything will be OK soon . . .  OK soonish, as its starting to get dark and all is still dead in the mystical world of cyberspace. It was OK until that satellite starting messing about around Pluto, maybe we humans have upset some sort of icy alien critter and they have decided it must be my fault. . . .  I can imagine some scientist saying. . . .  OOOOOoooo No you need to go and see that Rob Z Tobor he is always annoying aliens all the time. . . .  They say that because I have all these brilliant ideas and they are jealous, the world of science is full of jealousy and intrigue even if scientists insist they are all friends, which they are not.  

 

Anyway that’s it I am off now to phone a man who will probably be in an Indian call centre and who will tell me it must be the phone line in my house because BT equipment never goes wrong ever. And besides I am merely a member of the public and therefore an IDIOT.  Luckily I know that there is a house not far away using a BT hub and they also have had issues so they can’t blame me or an icy alien from the Planet Pluto either.  

It appears from the phone call with a disembodied mechanical voice on the phone that there is a major problem which will be fixed soon. . . . . . When I say soon I mean ages.

The Ghost Writer, an Office, an Update and a Golden Ibis

Now my last post was all about stuff changing and how it sort of happens jolly damn quickly at times and then sometimes so slowly that we cant deal with it in human terms as change. Well yesterday I found myself for reasons some of you will have worked out, at the office of the Ghost Writer. Who although a terrible Ghost Writer, is known to many as the IT Guru to the Stars as well as folk of a non star status. Well lets face it stars are not what they were when Humphrey Bogart, Jane Russell. James Cagney or Gary Cooper and the like were stars, these days they are folk I have never heard of and often look like spoil teenage brats.

Anyway there I was in the office of the Ghost Writer when a message arrived to say that a small flock of Zombies were attacking a shed in my garden. . . . . . No hang on that is not the message I was planning to discuss. . . . . No a message arrived in the office to say that the national organisation were doing important updates and that it might impact to some degree on the internet of the offices across the United Kingdom. Well as the Ghost Writer himself said at the time what this means is that no one will be able to do any work what so ever, and he was right.  And as the office suddenly came to a grinding halt it showed the very weakness of the modern internet based working environment. 

You see at one time a wizened old monk would be there with his quill and vellum working on his illuminated manuscript and except for the Vikings would work away through thick and thin, power cuts and even no internet. Even till very recently an office full of typists could produce loads of stuff a day, far more than they do now using the internet, but of course distribution was a bit of an issue, but at least folk did not spend half their day emailing pictures of cats to each other or shopping.

So there you have it a high tech (OK not very high) office is all well and good but takeaway the internet and almost instantaneously it is paralysed and folk can not do a thing. It is now very trendy to work in the so called Cloud, but just wait until the next major solar flare or some evil organization takes over and the internet is zapped, what will folk do then. It will not fair well for my blog either although luckily I have a wizened old monk writing it all on vellum with a quill from a Golden Ibis so . . . . . . . . . . . . HAH AHHAH haha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ahha ha haha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha . . . . my place in history is assured.  

The Keep XP Undead Kampaign (not todays K post that was the last one)

It appears that after a long battle Microsoft Windows XP has almost lost its war with the elements as it slips into the shadows of cyberspace history, I say almost because at present it appears that of all people, the British Government has come to its rescue. . . . . I know it's a shock.  But there are good sound reasons for this, the underlying main one being, the IT folk of the British government are all getting on a bit (like the Ghost Writer) and Windows XP is integrated so deeply into some of the database systems it will be a serious pain in the ***** to untangle the mess. Old IT folk do not like hassle so if they can keep it alive for a while longer they will all get to retire and leave some young keen IT geek to sort it all out.

Anyway as I was chit chatting about in the vast voids of cyberspace I found some Linux folk sniggering and not being nice about Windows XP.  Linux users have historically always seen themselves as the rebellious underdog fighting the fight of the common man against the grinding wheels of the establishment and true it was the case back in the old days when most folk did not understand Linux and just wanted to look at a cute cat on the internet. 

But I feel the tide has turned the true eccentrics of cyberspace have finally said lets get retro and say enough is enough, leave us to bimble about with what we like and know and are happy with. We don’t want more and more new shiny operating systems and devices, most folk hardly scratch the surface of the old systems before it is deemed obsolete.

So today I have started the . . . . . WE LOVE XP campaign KEEP WINDOWS XP UNDEAD, it has the added advantage I get to draw Zombies, Banshees and Vampires and everyone likes a friendly Zombie. I will tell you all now it is a futile and ultimately doomed campaign, but has all the makings of a truly maverick and eccentric campaign that will keep all those young IT geeks annoyed for ages as they proclaim I am an IDIOT and XP is Rubbish. But we all know they are wrong as it is really easy to look at cute cats on the internet with and that is what counts (No the cat is not counting . . . it just looks like it on Youtube).

Share or be Square  

The creeping reality of Rob Z Tobor and other uneventful events of no consequence

In the last couple of days I have been busy, but not busy doing exciting things just busy doing the things that folk generally do to keep busy.  You know the sort of things.

Attacking a large beast that has eaten the local wild Aardvark, with a pointy stick deep in the dark of the woods.

Hidden a huge pile of rare Italian renaissance manuscripts in order to avoid major historical conflicts with the Pope, as they reveal an early religious war between the church and Aliens,  involving treacle toffee. AH hang on maybe I was not meant to say that…..

Talked the Lemmings of Petrograd out of an out and out attack on Mr Jones the Alien hunter, who has yet again disturbed them as he ran through their home naked pursued by the police and one of Freddie’s ferrets

Vanished off to watch at least half a million starlings as they settle into a nearby village and poo on everything.

Washed our car after it got covered in the poo of a huge number of starlings.

Chopped off one side of an apple tree in order to stop it falling over

Carried books

Played ancient African drum rhythms to the Micro Gods of nice weather

Fixed a fountain

Pointed at many things.

So there you have it (dead boring), it has hardly been the sort of days that are going to improve my chances of the very nice Steven Spielberg showing any interest in the film rights and as I am often told by his lawyer . . . .O NO its you again please go away. The little scally wags that they are (I know they don’t mean it).

Anyway in other news my design for the MK3 Mechanical Spy Bird has been approved by the Canadian Intelligence Agency (the other and slightly less well known CIA) and they are so keen they have asked if they could print the image and hang it in the main office where they sit and ponder things. They say it will help them concentrate and stop them slipping over the edge into the world of ludicrous mad ideas that are entirely crack pot; the fine line apparently between madness and genius.  

It is nice to know however, that the fine line between reality and cyberspace has got just a little greyer than it was as my work filters into the real world in far away places, and if Mr ESB prints any Rob based clothing in the heart of Texas (sorry that’s the heights of Texas) then before you know it I will be standing next to you in a queue complaining about the weather and smiling clutching a rather well made pointy stick.

Ooooo finally I am creating a slightly rushed A to Z of Zombie based drawings of erratic quality and was wondering (assuming I get them finished in time if anyone else would like to use them, It is useful to have a picture for each letter and I am not going to sue folk for copywriter infringement, as they are all rubbish. 

Birthdays and other things

It has been a sunny day and although now dark the sky is still clear and the stars and half a moon are up in the night sky, I suspect someone has pinched the other half.  I noticed that India sent a rocket to Mars the other day (I cant remember if I mentioned it or not) and I have seen various comments floating about in cyberspace saying that the Indian Mars Mission is remarkably cheap in comparison to previous ones. It made me think that maybe what we need is some sort of competition like the one the Wright brothers won when they flew their helicopter over the Statue of Liberty in 1907.  We need some sort of competition to make a rocket to go to the moon, say for less that price of the average car or even  made out of an average car.

Earlier today we were at a surprise birthday party for Mr D who was 40, it was a good party and everyone had a great time and loads of good food. We left a bit early because we needed to go and see Mr M who continues to battle away poking his imaginary pointy stick at the gods to fend them off a little longer.  However since I started writing my diary many odd little coincidences have happened and I suspect that tomorrow may see yet another one. As many of you know my diary has several locations in cyberspace including my blog which is a bit like Captain Kirks Ships log on the Starship Enterprise and tomorrow’s blog post will be the 1000^th one. In blog terms this is quite an achievement (well I think so), but I can’t help but think this is going to coincide with Mr M finally loosing his battle with the gods.

If anyone is wondering about my picture tonight it is a long story but I now have to master drawing President Putin. Most of you will think WHAT but someone will not and he knows who he is. . . . . . .   

Leopards and cyberspace

My connection with the great expanses of cyberspace is not as it should be, I am limping along on dead slow and no one likes limping in cyberspace its like competing against a leopard in the egg and spoon race. I have asked the Ghost Writer about this and he says not to worry because leopards can’t hold spoons very well and so I have a slim chance of beating the leopard provided he does not get angry and eat me.  I had to explain to the Ghost writer that I really did not want his opinion on my hypothetical race comparison and was hoping he would sort out the internet.

So he has looked at my old battered PC and said in his view it resembles an egg that has had a large leopards steel cage dropped on in several times while the leopard was off in its paddock training for an important egg and spoon race.  I told the Ghost Writer he was an IDIOT but he said I started it and no one at work confuses him with talk of leopards and that he felt I was putting him in an awkward spot so to speak (HAH HAHAHH HHAH Ha ha hah hah ha ha  . . . . Spot leopard HAHAH HAHh ah hah ah hahha ha).

Anyway I am sort of time deficient  at present even on a good day so quite frankly this is silly so I am abandoning a breakdown of the days events and plan to go and throw stuff at leopards, that will teach them, assuming I can catch them up…… 

How to become a Genius in only Fifty Years

As many of you know my diary has more than one outlet in cyberspace in order to maximize its readership so instead of three readers I have about six, this is the way of genius no one pays any attention until about fifty years after you die and then someone will say here have a look at this diary this block (sorry bloke) was a genius…… There are three very distinct draw backs to this, the first of which is plainly the most obvious by the use of the word die because it infers that I have been dead for fifty years, and this is not good as I could do loads of interesting stuff in those fifty years rather than have tourists leaping up and down on me in Westminster Abbey and have photos of themselves next to my statue. Secondly and almost as annoying is that by then Steven Spielberg will be really old, I mean like seriously zimmer frame old with nurses and tubes and the like; just how is he going to make a movie of the diary when he is away with the fairies and talking to lampposts.

Before I continue with the third point I need to point out (a forth point) that a spider is trying to make a web in my hair, it is rather off putting and my typing is bad enough at the best of times, it has been suggested a comb would help matters but I don’t have one.

OK right back to what I was saying the third point is the royalties from the films, book sales and large prints of my artwork, plus the sale of all my original artwork to national collections will all be spent by other folk who will rub their hands going Ooooooooo goody when that really should be me doing that.

AH I have drifted from my planned diary entry now by loads I was working towards saying that my rather tasteful blog is sort of being pinged by some sort of autobot wed crawler thing in Latvia. This is harmless enough but now it appears my page view counter on my blog is indicating that I am really popular and have loads of visitors when in reality I do not. In other words some strange automated cyberspace machine is giving the world the impression I have been dead for fifty years and therefore I am a genius when the truth is I am merely a genius.

Should you by any chance be in Latvia and reading this, turn that damn machine off or no part in the movie for you……..  

I AM WATCHING

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Life the Universe and Everything and the discovery of Forty Two.......

You can be pottering about minding your own business cutting some grass and hedges looking for creatures to do battle with, footprints of Zombies, and evidence of alien life in the undergrowth, when something will pop up at you like a little beacon.  In my case it was a number that sort of popped up in the garage. You see the nature of my diary and my bumbling about in cyberspace as the eccentric child of cyberspace, having strange and quirky adventures means that I can relate to the number forty two rather well. And there it was staring me in the face in the garage; the number that we all know represents the answer to life the universe and everything from that book written by that chap Douglas Adams who interestingly enough was left handed and owned a rather cool left-handed Watkins Guitar just like myself. 

Forty  Two

I think what this must imply is that through my own rather strange tale in the voids of cyberspace I am getting very close to finally solving the question to the answer that forty two represents. In other words I am on the brink of discovering what the universe is finally all about.

In the meantime however I have decided to go off and find a wild mad beast to draw in the darkest recesses of the garden. There are creatures out there that man has not yet set his foot on (sorry his eye on), no hang on probably best to stick you foot on it first, lets face it most things sting or bite humans although you cant blame them really, folk keep sticking there feet on them. . . . . . . HAH HAH AH HH AH HHAH HAHHA HAH HAH HAH HAH HA HAH ah ha hah ah ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ha ha hah a hah h h hh h ha hah hhahah hah  . . . . . . Mum just said IDIOT.

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The Outside Outsider Artist and my rapid rise to obscurity.

I was listening to the radio this morning (Radio 4) and they were discussing exhibitions of Outsider Art at the Hayward Gallery and some other big gallery in London, now outsider art refers to artists who paint and do stuff because they like doing it rather than for commercial success, a bit like making things like sculpture with cardboard which commercially is doomed. Apparently they said the market for Outsider Art is rather good at present, which to me seems somewhat a contradiction in terms, but the art market is very fickle. Lets face it, looking at in the cold light of day folk are paying millions for a few pounds worth of paint a few square feet of canvas and a wooden picture frame because it has a famous signature on it when they could buy some brilliant art as good for a few hundred pounds at most or cardboard sculpture for even less.  I am it appears an Outside Outsider Artist and diary writer doomed to the dark shadows of obscurity, mocked by the masses who throw empty cardboard boxes at me (that’s lucky) and laugh HA HA HA HA in my face. I say this because I have noticed that traffic to my blog has dropped dramatically, I think Charles at GCHQ may have a hand in this, apparently he is in a bad mood after finding out his investment of two million pounds in half a shark appears to have been a little impetuous.

The Ghost Writer made these long before that other chap did

I am off as it happens today to a local junior school later to do some art with the after school club who wish to create some themed artwork, possibly based on sixty years of the queen being the queen. Anyway right now I am doing other stuff so I will return a bit later (where did that sun go?)…….

Much Much later . . . . .

Yes I did my bit with the junior school kids, although I think they are a bit too keen I was thinking take our time draw a silhouette on thick card cut it out all very sedate after all this is a five week project, but they were sort of off like mad things and had drawn all their animal shapes in about two minutes rather than an hour. . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN that was not meant to happen, it appears these kids are like super bouncy and over enthusiastic, I don’t think that ever happened to me but then cyberspace is a far more cynical world. After all here in cyberspace there is an old saying Walls Have Ears…… (Hello Charles and Quentin). 

Steven Spielberg, the making of Tinker Tailor Rob Z Spy, and monitoring social media

As my very long term followers will be aware I have had many run ins over the past nearly three years with forces that lurk in the shadows; dark forces that can sneak up on you and suck the brains out of even a fully grown antelope or brown bear, yes we are talking Zombies, Ooooooo no sorry we are talking Spies. Yes those men in the dark designer sunglasses who on a rainy day in Britain stand out like a sore thumb as they stumble about unable to see where they are going. Those of you who remember the Einstein Cube or the Jules Verne Pocket Oracle and Prophecy Machine will know of my many run ins with the CIA, MI6 and various other security forces including the KGB in the past. So I have to say that as the eccentric child of cyberspace using the world of social media to write my diary I must confess that the recent news that certain forces are monitoring the world of social media is not new to me. In fact I feel I may owe you all a bit of an apology for bringing them here in the first place.

If you think about it poor old Charles and his mate Quentin the back room boys at GCHQ, which if you Google tells you their address and telephone number, which is silly (hello chaps) who are monitoring all the chit chat of social media have a terrible job, just think how boring it must be to sit and monitor stuff without ever being allowed to make the odd comment on a Facebook page or follow the occasional blog making witty remarks or say even start your own blog chatting about life and stuff, Zombies and maybe take the cunning disguise of say an Eccentric Child and part time Pirate in the strange twilight world of Cyberspace, lets face it spies, particularly the back room boys will work much better if they are happy in their work, and a bit of interaction with the punters is just the ticket.

Anyway as Charles and his mate Quentin would say themselves if you can’t trust a man with an original portrait of President Putin, (a gift from the Kremlin) hanging on his wall then who can you trust. And as I have said elsewhere tonight when the nice Mr Steven Spielberg makes the film Tinker Tailor Rob Z Spy from my rather popular serialized diaries the security forces will deny everything, well everyone except Quentin and Charles who may be allowed to be extras in a dramatic scene where the hero and his trusty Lemmings confront the arch villain, a man called Moriarty who has accidently run onto the wrong set.   

The May Bug and decimal currency

I had a thought last night, I thought hang on its May what happens in May in the UK, what strange creature can cause the meandering masses to scream and flap about in a frenzied madness unseen since the January sales of 1972 when Harrods put the decimal point in the wrong place due to an error caused by unfamiliar use of a strange new currency based on 10. What fool thought that idea up what was wrong with 12 pence in a shilling and 20 shilling in a pound and one pound and a shilling was a guinea and a pony would buy a top class meal in the Ritz and cover the tip, these days the pony is the meal.

Sorry a distraction I was about to discuss the beast, the creature of the night that can turn a man, although to be fair mainly women to gibbering IDIOTS hiding under a duvet in the bath screaming “get it away from me the evil beast of evil as sent by the evil one to ruin spring”.  I am myself an old friend of these beasts and I have had many a happy night sitting round the campfire with these creatures as they fly about crashing into trees, walls, cows, rocks, seagulls or any other obvious large obstruction that any other beast would avoid with ease.  You see these fearsome creatures of death are the world’s worst aviators and could not fly in a straight line even if they where travelling first class on Concord, super glued into their seats.

I suspect most of you will by now be well aware of what beast we are talking about . . . . . ..  Yes it is the famous May Bug of Britain a creature that evolution predicts should have become extinct 500 million years ago due to total incompetence and a lack of efficiency that equals that of a dauphin (sorry dolphin) on a unicycle wearing a blindfold. 

Talking of which the Ghost Writer has been at his office today and all is not well it appears due to all this fangled decimal currency which apparently still confuses the accountant, so much so that he has found himself in a luxury hotel in a tax haven (the accountant not the Ghost Writer). He has left a letter saying he was hoping for a lottery win but  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . AH DAMN, it did not work out quite as planned.

The Ghost Writer is his usual gibbering self after a day as the world’s greatest IT guru although his office may be getting smaller very soon due to unforeseen circumstances as a result of decimal based money rather than proper money.  His one glimmer of hope is that if no one is about to use the computers they will not need fixing…….

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Spies, Pirates and Chemists in the strange twilight between cyberspace and reality

The world of diaries and cyberspace can lead to interesting things; things can happen that can have an influence on both. Take my good friend Miss Fionaski the Famous Russian Spy; we all know that she is very much a real person out there listening intently to her shortwave radio gluing micro dots onto the bottom of homing tortoises. However through the strange sub world of my diary she has found it very difficult to be a spy and has had to resort to leaping about and being a party animal in real life, because it is tricky to be a spy when as mum puts it some IDIOT keeps telling everyone about their secret plans.

Then there is my cyber-friend Captain Nessman of the High Seas, we have had many an adventure in the world of cyberspace battling sea monsters and the tally ho British fleet, but then real life leaps into place and Captain Nessman of the High Seas finds himself on a wild adventure learning Chinese in China, which is probably the best place to learn Chinese as it happens. He has many a tale to tell of huge squid and creatures that western man has never seen before which is why from time to time he still sneaks into a MacDonald’s from  time to time. 

Today the cross over between the real and surreal of cyberspace took another slightly strange twist, my diary as you know can be found both in Facebook and as a blog, and my blog friend Mr ESB a man of many talents and a chemist who often experiments with chicken sandwiches and who lives in Texas has told me that as a result of my help he has been able to sing Happy Birthday in Welsh to his friend Jesus (no not that one) who works in Mr ESB’s favourite diner back in his home town in Texas. Now that is well COOL just think without all this technology and the internet, things like this would not happen. I think what this proves is that even a modest diary of an eccentric in the rolling hills of the English Welsh borders and a few of his good friends can make the world a better place.

If you are watching the block buster movie or reading the best selling book then I will be found in a warm swimming pool with a cold drink in my hand, if you are not reading the best selling book or watching the movie all I can say is that nice Mr Steven Spielberg has made yet another film about the wrong thing (if it has horses in it again I will not be happy).

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Philosophy and the Science of Existence,

At school today we had a new  temporary teacher in a bright white suit who was teaching us Philosophy and in particular Philosophy and the Science of Existence, apparently according to the teacher it is possible we are not real and live in the mind of a greater being or the strange world of cyberspace. OK yes I do live in the strange world of cyberspace but that is beside the point, the point is I am me and therefore I exist.

So we were talking about the known and unknown, and does something happen even though we do not see it happen, a bit like the tree in the wood. So the teacher said did I know of an event that was happening that I could not see happening but that I could prove had happened. Well I told him that was easy because I knew that the Ghost Writer was buying a new coat to replace a coat that was eaten by a mouse in his car while he was watching the   aurora borealis in Scotland. The teacher seemed a bit sceptical and implied that a mouse could not eat a coat, but it did because I have seen the remains (of the coat not the mouse), in fact I told the teacher I was wearing the remains of the coat the other night while I was wandering about in the dark with a axe being a lumberjack (sort of) and accidently scarring a passing Bradley Wiggins lookalike on a bike.  Just by luck the Ghost Writers coat fits rather well considering much of it is in a mouse in Scotland.

The Ghost Writer proving he is real. . . .maybe

But the thing is I can prove that the Ghost Writer has a new coat because I have now seen his new coat and jolly nice it is too, it is a good coat the sort of coat I would buy. But the teacher said even if I did see the coat and the Ghost Writer let me put it on for a few seconds it may not really actually happen, and it might just be part of some sort of experiment in a computer, no more that someone typing words on a keyboard. I did point out that, this was silly because no one I know can type properly. Napoleon Beelzebub said the teacher in the white suit is merely a walk on extra, like in Star Trek and will be eaten by a large monster before we even get to know his name.

Funnily enough just before the end of the lesson Esmeralda who was getting bored noticed a thread loose on the teacher’s bright white suit, and as he walked past her she attached it to her clip on interchangeable drill attachment and set it to fast. I think her idea was it would be like catching a large Marlin, she was a bit jealous of the Ghost Writers large Steam Powered Goldfish, that he caught yesterday in the pond. But as the drill span and the thread whizzed off the suit all that was left was a small little microchip that bleeped and then vanished.

Everyone was much happier then, knowing that we are all real and that the teacher was in fact a computer program. According to the headmaster the auto teacher is the future of teaching, or was and that he is going to find it difficult to explain to the school governors why our class broke it, apparently it was rather expensive.

OOoooooo yes I have helped the Ghost Writer fix a printer tonight while he walks about in his new coat looking posh, well when I say fix . . . . . . . . . . AH damn it reminds me of today’s teacher a bit.

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The Comet Store Web Site, the Washing Machine and the Wing Mirror

Have you noticed that when the weather is grey wet and generally not very nice, something that keeps happening in the UK quite a lot on and off, motorists start to get more aggressive.  I assume there must be some sort of deep rooted physiological reason for this that goes back to the days when we were quadrupeds and switching on the central heating or lights or air conditioning and the like were not options. Maybe bad weather instils a need to head for the hills and safety in a sort of dog eat dog way, which when driving a car can be a little scary for the rest of us. I am sure it is not as bad when the weather is sunny, we tend to watch antelope leaping in the fields and ducks swimming in the ponds,  while chatting on our mobile phones and smiling as we drive, which admittedly can be a little distracting on the M6 at spaghetti junction. I think personally if I was in charge I would ban knitting while you drive; all that knit two pearl one slip every fifth and pick up the second of every fourth row is hard to do while changing gear on a roundabout particularly if you are also eating a doughnut with cream.

Dad has resolved getting frustrated by all the bad motorists by leaning out of the widow with a large axe and removing the offenders wing mirror with a well aimed blow then sticking his tongue out at them, sticking his thumb on his nose and wiggles his fingers at them as their wing mirror bounces along the road.  His only error so far was doing this to the local police car because they were not entirely happy but dad put their grumpy behaviour down to a long dull spell of weather.

Myself and the dog have decided to have a bet on whether the new washing machine and tumble drier will turn up on Saturday. You see mum and dad have bought them from Comet, which for those of you outside the UK is a large chain of shops that have sort of got into some serious problems with cash flow. I am confident it will all be OK but the dog is convinced someone has done a runner with our cash. Trouble is the old one is dead and outside and unlike the Undead will not even groan and stagger about a bit so once I am very smelly that will be that.  First thing this morning dad was able to get to the Comet wed site and track his washing machine across the world but by midday Comet had vanished from cyberspace and the help desk says  . . . . . . . We are hiding under a table out of view of the public, please go away. Then it automatically hangs up on you.  In a survey recently by the chain store (they do not sell chains) it was reveal customers very grumpy due to bad weather on the road getting to the store. They are generally out of town stores and a significant number also said they were put off when a madman with an axe attacked the wing mirrors on their car. 

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The multiple dimensions of downwards, a castle and a birthday party

Today has been as much about catching up as actually getting anything done so for example I am still writing up my adventures in the underworld; OK not really so much the underworld as the world underground, as they are not entirely the same thing, as my very good friend Napoleon Beelzebub has pointed out. Although they are both in the same direction, it is more the fact they are not in the same dimension, much like myself and the Ghost Writer. In fact while on the subject of different dimensions I discovered that the old medieval castle that we stayed near which I will mention when I finally get things all written up (you lot are just going to have to wait until I am organized a bit . . . . . . . . . AH); OK yes this castle exists in several dimensions also. It has a real existence so exists in the world of the Ghost Writer; it has an existence in the real world of Rob Z Tobor (me) because as far as I’m concerned I’m real. And then I discovered it has an alternative existence as a French castle in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  So I have now discovered that not only did we miss a chance to get all the gold from the centre of the Earth we have also missed an opportunity to find the Holy Grail and possibly the odd autograph……

Anyway the farmer has now filled the tunnels created by the cows, so they are a bit dispirited and are chewing grass in despair, roaming about in the fields in a sort of random fashion as if their goal in life has been taken away from them. However the sting in the tail for us was that one of their tunnels has resulted in the main road being closed and we were forced to undertake a huge detour in order to get to the birthday party of Miss Elle tonight who was seventeen while we were away in the depths of the subterranean caverns. It appears the road will now be closed for at least three weeks because cows make large tunnels but are not good at engineering the supports . . . . . . . 

It was a bit of a shock all that frost and sunlight this morning I had to wear sunglasses at breakfast and a woolly hat although it did turn into a really lovely day. OK I better go it is getting on as I have been at a birthday party and had to go and return the long way. . . .

Oooo I saw two of those powered parachute things going over the house today and an Austin Maxi. I thought all Austin Maxi’s were well dead, ironically on the way to the birthday party we did pass the Austin Maxi again and it appeared to be dead with people peering into the engine. Such is life. 

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The Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games, a chicken and the moon

I am a little late again tonight OK very late again but with good reason, as tonight is the great Olympic Ceremony which as been under wraps for ages. As it happens we got to watch most of it on the television set.  However the chicken made it in as he said he would, and got right up close to the five gold rings. He sneaked in by using a bit of barter; it worked because the chicken made it in under cover of the pre industrial revolution part of the Olympic opening ceremony.

Anyway after all the slightly weird Danny Boyle history lessons we watched a bit of the athletes parade around the Olympic stadium but it was getting a bit, well……. uninteresting, after all there are only so many flags and so many athletes a young slightly eccentric chap can deal with in one go.

As it happens there were other delays to my diary and interesting things going on, the first of which was the sky tonight it was WELL COOL, the Olympic Ceremony may have loads of high tech stuff, but the sky here at times was rather amazing too. I tried to get a few pics but it was getting a bit too dark to get really good photos of the best stuff.

We also had  our good friend Miss Frieda turn up on her motorbike to say hello as she was out on the road for a cruise round the countryside. Miss Frieda is a very good artist and writer; the daughter of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes, but also a motorbike fanatic although she said she was too busy painting at present to go off doing track days…

I have also been out with the telescope and the camera and finally got my first decent picture of the moon so I feel it has been a good night.

Only the Ghost Writer complained and said he spent the day in a office that was 34c at one point which is rather hot to do stuff in, and the sever was grumbling a bit too, computers do not like heat.

Finally I think I should say if that Mr Danny Boyle fancies making a weird film about the slightly eccentric life of a certain person now he has finally finished his bit with the Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games, I have just the manuscript for him

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