blog for nothing

It has been a while since I wrote something here and even that was fairly inconsequential. However today I feel better armed than ever since I have been reading Naomi' Klein's "The Shock Doctrine"; which is the first book to bring a lot of events that happened in the world over the past twenty years (say may life) together in the sense of why things turned out shitty in many countries even where their leaders had the best of intentions.

Its not only a conspiracy, but just the ideas that have been lying around about free market capitalism that have shaped and destroyed many a economy since these ideas were openly implemented. I think Ms Klein did a great job in identifyinft the relations between economic disaster management and warfare on populations of countries. I am really asking myself why so many people buy into this system. It was interesting to note for me that Prime Minister Kok who was in 1992 minister of finance actually did not want to help Russia with aid to recover from its economic depression. However when seeing that this Sober Prime Minister now is on board of many boards of directors and actively lobbying for companies I guess he must have had a ideological change of mind somewhere between being a Unionist and being a member of parliament. He of course was one of the architects of the Polder Model; which ment for many people just a frozen income and for companies many more liberties.

Anyway Its good to write something again; even for no-one's landers, e.g. nobody.

Just to see whether its working to blog something

just a slightly changed version of Poe's poem

"Ulalume a future to come"

"Here is where the machine guns nestle,
their barrels are crisped and sere,
their barrels are withering and sere,
During a spring day on this most lonesome west isle
in 2020, a most immemorial year.
They were heard firing at the walls, their cackle
caused complete silence and a sick atmosphere.
It was down in the dank cities of Britain,
In the ghoul haunted ghettos of fear.

Here once, by a history utterly outlandish,
to the independence of our souls,
to the proud independence, of our souls,
ruled over Britain, Blair, now lord of Belmarish.
His smiles were like scoriac rivers that crawled,
during this reign his propaganda restlessly rolled,
and people could not but imbibe his speeches,
which had as a penultimate, nightmarish goal:
to suffocate the moans of the suffering
and let extraordinary rendition take its toll.

People's talk was a silent murmur,
And our hearts were well fed with fear,
our memories were filled by fear
we knew the year was 2020,
but we marked not the night of the year
-Oh, lord have mercy on the living in this year.
People noted not the dim searchlights and towers,
Though once they had protested down there.
They however fully remembered the dank towers
and the ghoul-haunted gates of fear.

And how as the night was senescent,
could the pointy stars truly morn
-for the stars needed to morn-
As the silent cars moved along a crescent,
and stopped near a passerby lonely and forlorn,
violently he was taken from the present,
without even the sound of a siren or horn,
brought to a torturers silencing chambers,
from which no peace can ever be born.

And lo - "Such events are not printed in the Guardian,
nor in the Independent, nor seen by television's eyes
for they have cut away the important and therefore conform to lies
The tearful truth will not be dried on,
their pages and waves; for reporting it has its price,
Only some used to write with the fervor of a Lion
to point us to the paths of the wise
to the knowledge and peace of the wise
In present year such writings are never seen
and so the silencing down of innocent cries.

But the PM, uplifting his finger,
says "this writing I truly mistrust-
its propagandizing power I utterly mistrust:-
Oh, hasten now and do not linger!
Oh fly and bring down this writers gust."
In terror he spoke, and as pointer
used his gun-like fingers to point with a lust
his vigilant employee and harbinger
to this writers diminution in the dust
until I sorrowfully crumble in the dust

For I was taken to a place of horrendous dreaming
taken onwards through corridors filled with light
letting me bathe in sterilizing light
The Bunker's coldness was gleaming
with terror and disaster that night
I then could see to my ultimate fright
a metallic room and a torturers teaming
coldness, that shall never again set me aright
There I was wired up to a hell, throughout my longest night

Thus my mind was crushed and missed here,
and there the temptations of the past gloom
and was conquered from past's vices and gloom
and I was lain in room and constantly observed.
Once someone stepped into my tomb-like room
His satisfied eyes looking down my room
And I said, who are you, sir or mister,
to step beyond the door of this tortured man's room?
And he replied, curtly:" A messenger from a future,
your lost future, Ulalume."

No one's land

No one's land

*** part of a future sketch that made it back to the early days of the twenty first century ***

Today on the Debating Show for Inconsequential Debate whe have Mord Wormpotatoe of the Alliance for Radiatory Happyness and BingBing Hardwire of the Commission for Creature Mutation and the Growth of Extra Feet.

(lukewarm applause)

Welcome Gentlemutons!

BingBing, you know nuclear power has been a great help in creating our rich and multi-mutationary society of today. What can you say for those Brutons who feel displeased with the amount of radiation they get for free these days.

Well, I can only say that through radiation we have gained the ability to plug ourselves into the powerstation and loose the electricity that we need to use our appliances. I think these people are just ungratefull for having to plug themselves in every three hours. Ever since we have been irradiated from the Sellafield-Happyness-For-All power station there have been some people opposing the great measures that have been implemented.

there is still life, or something...

I'd like to remind all those people who believe that Iran is apart from dangerous also crazy is that there is still someone more crazy (or is it senile). Yes its France's dear leader Jacques "the Nuke" Chirac. We all knew he liked those weapons, as he badly wanted to do the tests on Mururoa (can you all still remember??): So a man of peace he certainly is not. Sometimes when it is best he does not want to make war but to call him a pacifist. I'd rather not.

For the rest, there have been some tell-tales that Iran will supposedly be able to make nukes as well in half a year or so. And I still think it be a tale of utter nonsense. Even if they had some: Would they be so preposterously stupid to actually use them? Personally I think not. However other people feel more free to use whatever power is at their disposal.

God, I hoped that in the age where everyone badly wants to be a grown-up humane kinda person they would act as such. Anyways enough drabling bollocks.

I'd say get on with it

(yeah get on with it !)

Hahahahahahahaha

I'd like to think that writing silly shittyness on some pages makes no difference especially here in no ones land, where nothing really happens. There have been some trespassers coming along. Well that is fine by me, because any trespassers may get stopped at the border and asked what might be their funny ideas, just to come barging in.

I just feel quite happy about Mr. Nose joining in the festivities. Go on Mr. Nose, make my day. You can fill up as many lines with female genitalia if you like. For me I dont really care. I just write some stuff weather you like it or not. That is the nice thing about the internet, you dont really have to care about other people unless they start invading your real life with spam or start living next doors.

Anyways, it has been a long time since I posted anything, mainly because I do not feel like writing anything sensible anyways, so feel free to fill the gaps. I have the impression that the main news is covered relatively well at other sites so no reason to fill up this site. I'd like to think Mr. Challinor gets enough respect for his insideous writings (especially from Mr. Nose) but just to irritate him a bit more I would like to mention this again.

Hahahahahhahahahahahah

(nobody said it would be a nice visit, eh?)

Alarm clock

just some nice cartoon from Steve Bell of the Guardian. Hope it will ring Archbishop Blairs ears a little.