Empathise With This

A play on the film title Analyse This (or should that be That), maybe one's the sequel of the other. Shut up. Anyway, I was just reflecting on a recent episode of an Antiques Roadshow - one of those where they show highlights of episodes in their archive. Well, once upon a time they were in Dumfries (Scotland) and there was this couple with a glass vase they'd dug out of their loft 'cos they heard the show was coming to their town. You see, they'd bought a plant at a car boot sale, and when it died that's where they'd bunged the thing it was in. However, might as well see if it's worth anything, probably get laughed at and told to shove off. They'd paid a pound for the plant, with the glass vase-thingy thrown in.

There they were then, on the telly, with this expert waffling on about this vase; "Did you know it was Lalique?" he said. "Naw", the blank looks might have added "What's a laleek, then?". Well the expert droned on a bit more and then got to the interesting bit. "It's probably valued in the range of £25,000 to £30,000", he finally declared. Blank looks, looking at one another, glancing at the beaming expert, and then the inevitable "Oh my God!".

It didn't take them long to exchange that glass plant pot for Twenty-Six thousand lovely smackers.

But here's what I was reflecting on. What if the guy who flogged it to them for a pound was watching that show. Sick as a parrot doesn't come close to how he must have been feeling. More like suicidal. Let's hope he just drank himself unconscious that night. No, let's be more merciful. Let us hope he, and anyone who knew what he'd flogged for a quid, didn't watch the show, and that he remains blissfully ignorant of what became of his giveaway plant pot.

Amen to that.

p.s. He might read this, though.

"Nah, extremely unlikely . . . . . I hope".

Getting killed for "National Security"?

Another two British soldiers killed in Afghanistan. That's a total of 152 British service personnel who have lost their lives since our troops were sent out there. It was the fourth item on the Radio 4 news bulletin at 10 o'clock this morning. Just a short statement that they were killed in an explosion and that their families were informed. By comparison, the two soldiers killed in Northern Ireland recently was headline news for several days. It was probably the fear that the Irish "troubles" might be starting up again that made it headline news.

One of the soldiers killed in Northern Ireland was on the eve of being posted, and this was reported as if the poor fellow might have escaped his fate had his posting come through a day or two earlier; as if he would have been out of harms way. My god, they were sending the poor sod to another killing field; from the proverbial frying pan of Northern Ireland to the fire (sometimes friendly, it has to be said) of Afghanistan.

The defence secretary, John Hutton, said: "All the brave and professional service personnel who have given their lives in Afghanistan have done so to counter the serious threat posed to the UK's national security." That sounds like Government-speak bullshit to me. It seems to me that the UK's national security has been more endangered since our troops have started trading killing projectiles out there. The Seven/Seven London bombings occurred after British troop deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan, didn't it.

Adverts that Endanger my Television: 1

Endangered from something heavy hurled through it by yours truly.

Confused-dot-com. A price comparison site.

An advert made by morons for morons. This one really gets my goat. The proles that this ad targets surely haven't got any living brain cells, let alone are able to drive a car. I hope I never come within screaming distance of anyone who acquires their car insurance through this brain damaged site. And when I hear that moronic wail at the end of the ad I metaphorically reach for my rusty length of barbed wire to garrotte the cretin who emits it. To put the poor creature out of his misery, you understand . . . . . and ours.

Ye gods!

I feel much better now.

Corpus Blot Their Copybook

Yes, this is a postscript to my earlier posts concerning Gail Trimble and her University Challenge winning team. Seems they're not the winning team after all. Corpus Christi College have been disqualified because one of the team (the bounder won't be named here) was no longer a member of the college when the final was being filmed. The runners up, Manchester University, have been declared University Challenge champions.

What a balls up.

Indeed!

An Introductory Shamble

Shambling not strutting. Strutting is what you do when you're young and foolish, with your whole life ahead of you; you've got somewhere to strut to. Horizons may be false but your youthful optimism struts you on to the next one regardless.

As you get older strut turns to shamble. The road ahead becomes less certain, and you're more wary of the potholes that lie in wait, potholes gleefully anticipating pratfalls. You shuffle along, your gate is shorter, feet scraping the dusty path; there's not so far to go now. The once glowing horizon is now dimmed by past disappointments and expectations that are no longer great. That final horizon, the one your youthful self hardly had time to contemplate, now looms larger and is not as easy to ignore; each arthritic and rhuematic twinge redirects your wavering attention to it.

Shuffling - shambling is part of the bodies self anaesthetizing as we approach our final horizon. It may even be an edge-of-the-world pothole, that mother of all potholes into which we hurl ourselves, shouting “Geronimo”, if we still have strength and will enough to do so.

By the way. I am one of the shamblers.