Thursday, 5 August 2010

Where did she go?

I return from my now customary annual break from blogging renewed, reinvigorated, radicalised and resolute - and in part determined to use as many words beginning in the letter R as is womanly possible, or so it would appear.

Where have I been?

What have I been doing?

With whom and why?

Who cares?

Now that would be telling, that is I mean I will be telling: Such tales I have collected, things I have witnessed - adventure, philosophy, derring-do, psychopaths and mountainpaths, drunken nights in bothies and damp nights under sodden canvas - or to be precise whatever very flammable (as I discovered) artificial canvas substitute modern tents are taped together with.

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

The wrong kind of snow hits City Chambers...

Following quickly on the heels of universal criticism of the country's councils inability to deal with the right kind of snow over the last few months,  news reaches me of yet another story of the perils of the wrong kind of snow.

So officers from SCDEA had a meeting with the ill fated ex-leader of Glasgow City Cooncil to warn him he was keeping bad company as a result of his nose for Columbian sneezing powder.  Since when were the Drug Squad tasked with protecting a speeding yet paranoid politician who is unaccountably but overwhelmingly emboldened with an unjustified sense of his own omnipotence? Mind you, putting pen to paper to describe the likely effects of Charlie on Mr Purcell results in a description that seems very close to a breakdown of the personality traits of your average politician, sans narcotic alkaloids.

Cocaine changes people, and as somebody who has worked in and around the creative industries I've witnessed these non too subtle alterations close up, often literally, in my face.  Many of the so called high flyers I've met depend almost entirely on drug assistance to fly high; their drive, ambition and ruthlessness derived from the stimulants they chose to consume on a daily basis. Unknown to colleagues their 'success' and the personality to which it is credited is almost entirely dependent on that overwhelming sense of purpose and invulnerability that is in the gift of a gramme or two of Yeyo a day.

Perhaps Stephen Purcell isn't really that driven politician the derisible Scottish Labour movement would have us believe but just another example of an altered personality suffering under the delusion of Coca inspired ambition and superiority.  That would account for him getting very little done whilst giving the impression of being super-humanly industrious - that's pretty much in keeping with your average cokehead, and suspiciously the Labour party in general - hmmmm...

So where do those Labour bloggers Yappy and Smugdale stand on this?  Their silence speaks volumes - and after all that grandstanding over Lunchgate and Sturgeongate (I hate that gate thing)...

Saturday, 27 February 2010

The Poetry of Reality

Having spent the last week immersed in the application of science and engineering, professionally speaking, I was pleased when a colleague sent me a link to this. Just thought I'd share. Have a great weekend.


The Symphony of Science project lives here

Wednesday, 24 February 2010

An offer of assistance...

News comes to my silo that Christine Pratt the boss of the National Bullying Helpline, a fake charity dedicated to passing potential Employment Tribunal claimants to her husband's business which represents them in employment tribunals with 'consultants', is digging herself into a hole quicker than a mole on meth-amphetamine.

I've been involved in the tribunal system on and off over the years, and there is nothing qualified Lawyers, on the claimant's or defendant's side, like better than to be faced with an unqualified 'consultant' in court.  The smile that splits their handsomely remunerated faces in two on discovering that their opponent is represented by a self-appointed idiot tells it all.  But that's an aside.

The BBC reported Mrs Pratt last night as "going through her email" in what looks like an increasingly desperate attempt to prove that she was indeed contacted by the entire staff of Downing Street regarding bullying.

I have one bit of advice for you Mrs Pratt - try the search function - you should find anything within a couple of minutes. Just how you had time between entering a search term, pressing the search button and getting the results to call the BBC to announce your intention to search your email box does confuse me slightly.

Or could it be that you are just incompetent?  If you intend to go through every email you have ever received manually, or print the entire contents of your inbox, you probably are.   So in the spirit of egalitarian support, even for idiots, please let me extend an offer of help - just send me the entire contents of your mail folder and I'll have a look for you - just zip it up and send it to fakecharity@weexploitdesperateclaimants.com.

Rest assured, I promise to adhere to the same high standards of confidentiality as your own organisation...