I was happily chefing away today, when all of a sudden, a diatribe came spouting forth, from a visitor to my little kitchen world. 'It's this fuckin capitalist world that's the problem. In Hitler's Germany, capitalism was effectively banned. No price rises that increased profits to then be passed to shareholders. A Centrally administered economy, to mobilize large scale projects and get people working. Employers and employees under Government control. No 'fat cat' stuff.'
I mentioned the War once, but I think I got away with it. It's this monumental economic maelstrom that has everyone and their pet goldfish, ruminating about solutions to solve our global travails. And who can blame us? We're all in a high state of 'FUC'...Fecal Underpants Concern...and why would we not be?? It's a freakin shambles out there in the big bad world and as if the general landslide of bad news wasn't bad enough, now fuckin' Adolf Hitler has the (final) solution.
Personally, I don't know if he was all bad, all the time. Sure had a bit of a temper on him and when he didn't like you, you certainly were never left in any doubt about it (look out, look out, there's a V2 about). There's a kind of refreshing honesty about that. He was also named 'Man of the Year' by Time magazine in 1938...no, really. However, his thigh slapping gaeity, was somewhat overshadowed by his penchant for a spot of pre-tiffin, mass murder, which for my money, also pops a bit of a damper on his economic prowess. The global economy may indeed be in a bad way, just not that bad, that we need a Chancellor with a joke shop 'tache and Tourettes arm.
Oh and lest I forget, the fella that regaled me with his alternative economic theories (cribbed one might surmise from a Xmas/Birthday 'Adolf Hitler...Quite a Decent Cove?' book) was none other than an Exterminator...quite.
Whilst we don't have an Adolf in Scotland, we do appear to have a Finance minister that likes to stick a Jackboot to the minions. John Swindler of the Scottish Nazi, sorry, National Party (real name Swinney, but stick with the change) has decided to sell his second home. Big deal?...well yes, actually. Swindler bought the property under the Edinburgh Accomodation Allowance scheme, funded by the taxpayer. The sonofabitch could have rented or stayed in hotels, still using our money, but where would the fun in that be, when he can use funds belonging to you and me, buy a nice big hoose, then sell it, trousering the (post-CGT) £60,000 profit?? And the get-out, as explained on Newsnight, is that diddums had to pay the CGT at a higher rate than before. Pardon my use of the vernacular, but this bespectacled fuckwit, must be havin a laugh. After all the shit we had to endure from these leeches in the most recent scandals, you would have thought that this dickhead would have had the integrity and good grace, to lead by example and plough his ill-gotten gains back into some local employment project or charity, rather than his own fucking Bank account. Finance Minister indeed...his own. Beggars belief, even though somehow it doesn't come as a surprise. Hopefully, we've not heard the last of this, though and i'll be posting again...
Now, in a breakaway, new and excitingly innovative addition to my already excellent blog (anyone looking for a self-publicising, rampant egotist?) welcome to...McNics Minis. What the fuck are they, I hear you ask. Well, ya cheeky bastard, they're just little throwaway observations, not worthy of my normally erudite ramblings. So, gather your cheeks together for the inaugural MIni...
Brad Pitt is in Glasgow shooting a new movie about zombies. No hidden agenda there then.
Say goodnight McNic...
Thursday, 18 August 2011
Friday, 12 August 2011
Welcome to Planet Mad...
Hi Lloyd. Been away, but now I'm back...(courtesy, Jack Nicholson, The Shining).
Today, whilst embarking on a fleeting Bank visit (some other bastard was holding it up) I noticed that the branch now had piped music in the background. So, to the strains of Sweet Love by Anita Baker, I deposited 50 quid with one of the cashiers, skilfully resisting the lure of asking if I could buy her a drink, or if she came here often. Now, I can remember a time when I quite liked the strains of Ms Baker. I was younger then and it was always handy weaponry, for a chap to show his more romantically sympathetic side. It was therefore more than a little incongruous to find Anita now gigging in the 'Evil Institute' when 'You've got to pick a pocket or two' by Fagin would surely have been a more appropriate musical selection.
All of this idle whimsy is merely my way of dealing with a world that has radically altered from my lost youth. Music was played in Bars or restaurants or the hairdressers, not in financial establishments. Nor was a Kenco coffee machine in evidence. I mean, what next...'That money is now in your account, sir. Oh and there's your tuna and sweetcorn panini and remember your semi-skimmed coconut latte on the way out...'
Speaking of things musical, I also recognize whilst slipping gently down life's runway, that my taste in tunes has changed somewhat. Since an earlier blog has revealed my alarming and unapologetic penchant for Radio4, an occasional saunter down Desert Island Discs avenue, reveals some startling musical selections from various assembled guests. On a recent outing, we endured, sorry, enjoyed, the verbal musings of Michael MacIntyre. Now I quite like the bloke, though in rather smaller doses than when he first appeared on screen. Sadly, like so many celebs who float your boat, MacIntyre has now become more omnipresent than God, or Simon Cowell as you may know him and I suspect we all like a little less of him. Anyhoo, his final disc selection was Ella Fitzgerald singing a live version of 'Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered', which was simply jaw-dropping. A voice meltier than melted Valrhona chocolate, accompanying a classic Rodgers and Hart composition...yes, I admit it, I lurve Ella. Now to get on with the rest of my life.
Meanwhile, back in La-La Land (some of) the natives have been restless. As extreme lassitude descended on some of Englandshire's finest fuckwits, it was decided en masse, to pillage (presumably the rape will follow) carefully selected town centres, aided by the marvels of Blackberry and Titter. There's something confusing to yours truly, about disaffected yoof (and some not so yoof) being able to afford a better phone than moi, but still feeling the need to play the proleteriat card. Goodness, whoever thought that the rise of the downtrodden would be sparked by the need to acquire a larger TV screen, so that they could watch themselves stealing said telly on Sky News, later that day. Come to think of it, that entire concept may be a little too cerebral for some of these wankers.
Listen people, there's no easy answer to dealing with these monstrous wastes of oxygen. Yes, we've ALL been screwed by the financial 'system' and in some senses our collective avarice is to blame. The rush to gain wealth, has resulted in corners being cut, in an attempt to get the prize, quicker. Rules are made to be broken, right? There is and always be, an underclass out there. It's the have and have nots syndrome and it just seems a helluva lot more pronounced now, simply because world finances are so far up the shitter, that an enema of Niagara proportions wouldn't flush out all the crap. Depressingly, it seems unlikely that we've seen the last of this mob siege mentality, but if our elected fuckwits would actually get their heads together and say some unpalatable things that those who elected them can believe in, we might get this train out of the station. Fuck Johnny Do-Gooder and the human rightists. Grab this problem by the collar, cut out the weasel words and restore some much needed sanity.
Y'know, I'm going to finish this rant and lead by example. There is a connection of thought in this little analogy. There are a never-ending stream of famines in Africa. As a whole, it is a continent, fraught with problems. It's pretty well ignored as an economic basketcase, so the only time it seems to be in sharp focus, is famine time. The call goes out, the cameras roll and the money pours in. Not once, have I ever heard any politician/anyone from aid agencies suggest that part of the solution would be to introduce the dark art of contraception en masse. It's understandable, many of these people have little to do other than procreate. They have no jobs, no societal structure as we understand it and a climate that does not lend itself to producing enough food and clean water to provide for so many hungry mouths. So why not discourage them from producing ever more children?? Remove misguided religious practices/beliefs out of the equation. No 'pope on a rope' principals of sinful childbirth interruption. Yes, wearing a condom may be akin to eating a Mars Bar with the wrapper on, but it could also become a badge of honour and put an immediate halt to unnecessary population expansion, whilst we tackle the other important underlying issues in that stricken continent. Tackle the problem at its' roots...
Ok, now that I've made myself as popular as the Chairman of the Monogamist Society, inviting Ryan Giggs to Guest Speak at the Annual Bash, i'll leave you with late news that a midget had items stolen from him during the peculiarly Englandshire riots. Just how low will these bastards stoop...Boom, fuckin, boom.
Say goodnight, Gracie...
Today, whilst embarking on a fleeting Bank visit (some other bastard was holding it up) I noticed that the branch now had piped music in the background. So, to the strains of Sweet Love by Anita Baker, I deposited 50 quid with one of the cashiers, skilfully resisting the lure of asking if I could buy her a drink, or if she came here often. Now, I can remember a time when I quite liked the strains of Ms Baker. I was younger then and it was always handy weaponry, for a chap to show his more romantically sympathetic side. It was therefore more than a little incongruous to find Anita now gigging in the 'Evil Institute' when 'You've got to pick a pocket or two' by Fagin would surely have been a more appropriate musical selection.
All of this idle whimsy is merely my way of dealing with a world that has radically altered from my lost youth. Music was played in Bars or restaurants or the hairdressers, not in financial establishments. Nor was a Kenco coffee machine in evidence. I mean, what next...'That money is now in your account, sir. Oh and there's your tuna and sweetcorn panini and remember your semi-skimmed coconut latte on the way out...'
Speaking of things musical, I also recognize whilst slipping gently down life's runway, that my taste in tunes has changed somewhat. Since an earlier blog has revealed my alarming and unapologetic penchant for Radio4, an occasional saunter down Desert Island Discs avenue, reveals some startling musical selections from various assembled guests. On a recent outing, we endured, sorry, enjoyed, the verbal musings of Michael MacIntyre. Now I quite like the bloke, though in rather smaller doses than when he first appeared on screen. Sadly, like so many celebs who float your boat, MacIntyre has now become more omnipresent than God, or Simon Cowell as you may know him and I suspect we all like a little less of him. Anyhoo, his final disc selection was Ella Fitzgerald singing a live version of 'Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered', which was simply jaw-dropping. A voice meltier than melted Valrhona chocolate, accompanying a classic Rodgers and Hart composition...yes, I admit it, I lurve Ella. Now to get on with the rest of my life.
Meanwhile, back in La-La Land (some of) the natives have been restless. As extreme lassitude descended on some of Englandshire's finest fuckwits, it was decided en masse, to pillage (presumably the rape will follow) carefully selected town centres, aided by the marvels of Blackberry and Titter. There's something confusing to yours truly, about disaffected yoof (and some not so yoof) being able to afford a better phone than moi, but still feeling the need to play the proleteriat card. Goodness, whoever thought that the rise of the downtrodden would be sparked by the need to acquire a larger TV screen, so that they could watch themselves stealing said telly on Sky News, later that day. Come to think of it, that entire concept may be a little too cerebral for some of these wankers.
Listen people, there's no easy answer to dealing with these monstrous wastes of oxygen. Yes, we've ALL been screwed by the financial 'system' and in some senses our collective avarice is to blame. The rush to gain wealth, has resulted in corners being cut, in an attempt to get the prize, quicker. Rules are made to be broken, right? There is and always be, an underclass out there. It's the have and have nots syndrome and it just seems a helluva lot more pronounced now, simply because world finances are so far up the shitter, that an enema of Niagara proportions wouldn't flush out all the crap. Depressingly, it seems unlikely that we've seen the last of this mob siege mentality, but if our elected fuckwits would actually get their heads together and say some unpalatable things that those who elected them can believe in, we might get this train out of the station. Fuck Johnny Do-Gooder and the human rightists. Grab this problem by the collar, cut out the weasel words and restore some much needed sanity.
Y'know, I'm going to finish this rant and lead by example. There is a connection of thought in this little analogy. There are a never-ending stream of famines in Africa. As a whole, it is a continent, fraught with problems. It's pretty well ignored as an economic basketcase, so the only time it seems to be in sharp focus, is famine time. The call goes out, the cameras roll and the money pours in. Not once, have I ever heard any politician/anyone from aid agencies suggest that part of the solution would be to introduce the dark art of contraception en masse. It's understandable, many of these people have little to do other than procreate. They have no jobs, no societal structure as we understand it and a climate that does not lend itself to producing enough food and clean water to provide for so many hungry mouths. So why not discourage them from producing ever more children?? Remove misguided religious practices/beliefs out of the equation. No 'pope on a rope' principals of sinful childbirth interruption. Yes, wearing a condom may be akin to eating a Mars Bar with the wrapper on, but it could also become a badge of honour and put an immediate halt to unnecessary population expansion, whilst we tackle the other important underlying issues in that stricken continent. Tackle the problem at its' roots...
Ok, now that I've made myself as popular as the Chairman of the Monogamist Society, inviting Ryan Giggs to Guest Speak at the Annual Bash, i'll leave you with late news that a midget had items stolen from him during the peculiarly Englandshire riots. Just how low will these bastards stoop...Boom, fuckin, boom.
Say goodnight, Gracie...
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