Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Sad


For reasons that are too pathetic to even contemplate, I'm sat behind the computer again on my birthday night. I'm watching TS Ernesto, Ernie to his friends, doing strange things.
A year ago tonight, I was on the campsite, listening to England win at Trent Bridge, talking drunkenly with the in-laws, falling ina ditch, and wondering what the next morning would bring when Katrina hit land. I remember the reports on the BBC World Service (from the same guy who's now in Afghanistan saying everything's OK with the world), saying how there was a bit of rainwater downtown, but it looked like New Orleans had got away with it.
The bloggers and posters this evening/night are starting to look very strangely at this storm - for the umpteenth time in its existence. The NHC forecast is for a TS, perhaps a CAT1 to hit Florida, move out to sea again and threaten the Carolinas. But Ernie seems to be strenthening rapidly after - probably - moving off the Cuba shore. The track is uncertain still - which it would be when no-one can find the centre for sure. And the SSTs are very high, shear has dropped completely, and the conditions are ripe for a blow up. Looking at the picture, the banding is potentially enormous.
Mostly in the minds of all the bloggers is Wilma. I've read one comment from a professional meteorologist that we will never see that again in 20 or 40 years. He's probably right. But what if we see something equally mind-numbing?
At least they agree - tonight is Ernie's chance to do or die. At least it's something for me to watch on my quiet birthday night. Hopefully, the only damage out of this one will be to property or reputations. The concern is that with such masive uncertainty, evacuations are going to be near impossible. Tourists have been sent out of the Keys, but AFAIK, residents are still there. I have an unpleasant feeling that the Keys might yet be in line - just before Labor Day...

Monday, August 28, 2006

Hey, it's my birthday today.


I'm going to be forty. Next year! But for now, I'm not really caring one way or the other.
I have done something today. I've written half a page or so of the screenplay. I have quite a good feeling about this. It was fun too. Maybe the idea of having such a tightly conceived and rigid form helps. I dunno.


Anyway, this is it. Can you guess what it is yet?

EXT . NAGIMBI VILLAGE

An African village. It meets all the cliches. Straw huts. Green hills and red earth behind. We pan the countryside then move slowly in. A voice begins to be heard on the air. As we move closer in, people are gathered around in the center of the village. The voice is obviously addressing them but they are paying little attention. Children are playing. Old men are laughing. Women begin to move away sharing a joke. The voice continues; not pompous, but merely pursuing a rather abstract piece of business. Slowly we move in to see the voice delivering the words is EDWIN PORTER, a man in his early thirties, dressed as a typical colonial administrator of the times (1880’s). He has the sardonic air of one who doesn’t truly believe anything he is saying. Beside him are JANE PORTER, his wife, who stares ahead save for swatting mosquitoes, and a handful of red-jacketed soldiers stood behind the Porters.

The whole event is clearly some ritual, in which none of the participants appear to place any stock, but which nonetheless should be pursued.

EDWIN:

The Great Queen over the water extends her hand in friendship to the people of the Nagimbi. Henceforth, she shall regard the Nagimbi as her children. She offers them the same protection and rights as all her children. The people of Great Britain and the Nagimbi are one. They shall share the hardships and sorrows, and they shall share their happiness and wealth. They shall support each other in times of trial and war. They shall share their lives as subjects of the Great Mother, Queen Victoria.

CU HUTCHINSON:

He is well aware that people are not paying attention. But still the words should have import.

EDWIN (CONT'D):

Welcome to the British Empire.

CU: A REDJACKET.

The Redjacket slaps at his neck. A small blowpipe arrow has hit him in the jugular. He falls to the ground.

EXT: NAGIMBI VILLAGE.

EDWIN (CONT'D):

Oh, I say.


So, elsewhere, Ernesto became a hurricane today, then fell back to TS as it moved over Hispaniola. This is proving to be the hardest storm to forecast. It could still end up a monster hitting the Panhandle or even further West, it could be a big thing rolling up Tampa Bay, or it could fizzle to a TS drenching Souther Florida. I don't remember seeing one so difficult to predict for both track and intensity. Makes you realise how difficult it still is to save lives with these things. Probably hundreds are dying now on Haiti/Dominican Republic.
In the Central Pacific, one of the most unusual storms ever, Ioke, is still a Super Typhoon, has been for a few days and looks like being for the foreseeable future! It may, someday, interact with land, somewhere. Nobody appears to know at the moment.
The family have headed off home this afternoon. They should be getting to bed themselves about n ow I'd guess. I really enjoyed them being here. Especially having Mum & Dad and Tania & the girls here all at once, it was good fun.
Strange - the news is quiet. Why's that? Because the politicians are taking their summer holidays! I can't believe anyone still bother with those ratfink charades of elections.
So now we're just left with the usual war and lies, blood and hype, and of course money. I can't be arsed even thinking about any of that shite, let alone wasting words writing on it.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Holiday begun


My holiday started yesterday. The family's over visiting, it's very nice seeing them here. Tomorrow we're having a bit of a party. Have to stay reasonably together for that - at least till my folks leave :-)
Ernesto has just formed over the Caribbean - or rather , just been named. Looks very dubious - it needs to be watched. At the moment, the NHC is forecasting a cane in the Gulf on Tuesday. It's going to wander into the Loop and nobody knows where it's going to go.
Some storm chasing for my birthday one year would be cool. But at least this year I'm not getting a pair of slippers, so I'm not totally decrepid yet.
Family goes home on Sunday, and then I think I have a little something I want to write. Something light and fun to get me back in the mood. I suppose on the plus side - light and fun are more commercial than the stuff I'd normally write ;-) Maybe I'll post it here as I write...

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Surprisingly


Deep things. Need to write some stuff. Need to chill, get ready for autumn, for party season. Need to extend this break from work, prepare for stopping work - and that can only be done by making writing my work.Need to prepare for next child - and finish the work on the house now.
Smell it in the air and taste it in the water, it's a time of change again. These are the moments that are really special to me, these are the moments that you can see clearly the differences in the types of people: are you a carpe diem or a laissez faire type?
The family's away today, camping. I go join them tomorrow for a day. I thought maybe I'd do some writing whilst they were away, but it didn't work out that way - it was just too relaxing having that silence in the house!
So I need to muscle and make space - same as I'm also supposed to be doing studying for management training courses.
Oh, and family coming in a few days...

Take a deep breath now. It's about to get exciting...

Oh, BTW - here's an old anarcho commetn from the US elections 2 years back. Whoever you vote for, the government wins. (Given new spin by Diebold & its Republican bosses).

Monday, August 14, 2006

And again

No work tomorrow. So another late night blog...
In an argument with the wife today. She doesn't understand that I need resolution. She's part of the old school that pretends that nothing ever happened and let's go along just so....
And she's not from the same background. She is, whatever she might say, from a middle class background. That is still true for more than 90% of the people I know. And the reason for that, is that I move in a middle class environment these days.
So how is it that in a middle class environment, there are virtually no working class people? In Esther's scene, there's one working class guy - Arie; married to a spolit rich brat, who hasn't got the balls he was born with to say boo to her. In my work scene , all the young pretenders are middle class, sons and daughters of the respectable.
No wonder then that I still have trouble with their culture. That's actually at the root of my argument with the wife today. Becasue this whole middle class husband shit is shit. I don't buy it at all.
The question for me, is whether I should abandon it all and go back to the real world without money, but at least with some form of integrity and resistance.
If I didn't have kids, the choice would be a no-brainer.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Nothing specific


Nothing specific on my mind today. I've been busy with work, which is a shame as such. It's fine looking at new systems and architectures, but everything comes down to money, so I've got to fit the systems into the business case, instead of simply saying "these are best for the job". So those people who reckon capitalism is the best methodology for organising human affairs are missing a beat right there.
We should have been down in Eindhoven today at the Reggae Sundance festival. Four days in a tent with chill music - Steel Pulse, Alpha Blondy, Culture, ISrael Vibration, etc.... Instead we're at home, because the girls have been sick all week. They're getting better, but just aren't well enough for such an undertaking. A real shame - mind you, it would hardly be a sundance. Following July's heatwave record, we've had a monsoon, and it's really broken these last couple of days. It's definitely gonna be more of a reggae raindance.
On the other side of the world, the Atlantic is having a quieter time of it for storms than they'd feared. So far. The Pacific, on the other hand, is having anything but a quiet time. After Australia's record season, China has just got ravaged by its eighth storm so far this season - Saomai (up to 'S' already!). And the entire Northern hemisphere has been hit with extreme heat. California and New York have seen records, as well as Holland and Spain. Not to mention Korea, where I've read newspaper reports that were so keen for a cooling storm that they were actually regretting that Saomai passed them by!
Meanwhile, the god-botherers are still busy knocking ten tonnes of shit out of the civilians across Lebanon and Iraq and Afghanistan. The UN Security COuncil are meeting tonight to approve a 15,000 strong peacekeeping force to Lebanon, which is just about the stupidest fucking pretext crap I've heard since Korea (and I'm not old enough to remember that, but I get the feeling nobody was standing up and shouting 'Are you fucking mad?' loudly enough back then too.)
So the troops of the West will be in place from the Mediterranean coast to the Hindu Kush, along the Silk Road to the foothills of the Tibetan plateau. Those countries in between who might complain - like Syria and Iran - are portrayed as next snack in the bastards' banquet. All the countries that Islam spent a millenium conquering are being occupied by troops whose figurehead leader is a fundamentalist Christian maniac. Any wonder that the Islam god botherers shout about crusaders?
Not to mention the rapture nuts who are waiting for Armageddon.

I'm getting used to being in this house a bit more now. To sit here tonight and drink and write helps. It still takes some getting used to though. I'm listening now to 'Missing You' - the lament of the homeless in mid-Eighties London. My time, my people. I look around and wonder when we'll get caught out - wonder when "they" will realise I'm just faking this respectable shit. Sometimes, i think that's paranoia. Other times, I remember that I *am* just faking it.
I don't intend to be mortgaged or wage-slaved for the rest of my life, by any stretch of the imagination. Sure lots of people say that - but the last few years should show anyone who doubts that I can pull a hell of a lot together when I'm so inclined :-)
Of course "they" only care fundamentally about money. They'll give you money iof they can make money off of you, and have a reasonable security that you're going to keep making more money for them than they have to give you. Which kind of brings me back to the nature of capitalism, and here's another flaw. The company I work for is disturbingly dependent on me, which they at least acknowledge, but if anything other than money was important to that organisation, they might be able to claim some loyalty from me. But any loyalty went up in flames twenty years ago together with the barricades at orgreaves. Loyalty to capitalists was marched underfoot in Armthorpe and Easington twenty years back as the riot police and troops dressed up as coppers marched into pit villages across the North of England.
So fuck them all. The rich get richer as usual. The bosses look after their own. The bosses in a company now still come almost exclusively from the middle class and the rich.
Scum like me is useful. But we should never forget how disposable we are - and be able to dispose of the dependency on wage slaveryjust as quick as we can when the chance arrives.
And that doesn't mean get-rich-quick self-satisfaction. Getting rich on the backs of others' slavery might be the American dream, might be the proud boast of a handful of self-made rich men who are complete cunts. Doesn't interest me. I don't want my wealth to be funded by exploitation, slavery, famine or colonialism.
Damn, life's tough being moral :-)

A police car and a screaming siren -
A pnuematic drill and ripped up concrete -
A baby waiting and stray dog howling -
The screech of brakes and lamplights blinking -
That's entertainment.

A smash of glass and the rumble of boots -
An electric train and a ripped up 'phone booth -
Paint splattered walls and the cry of a tomcat -
Lights going out and a kick in the balls -

That's entertainment.

Days of speed and slow time mondays -
pissing down with rain on a boring wednesday -
Watching the news and not eating your tea -
A freezing cold flat and damp on the walls -

That's entertainment.

Waking up at 6 a.m. on a cool warm morning -
Opening the windows and breathing in petrol -
An amateur band rehearsing in a nearby yard -
Watching the tele and thinking about your holidays -

That's entertainment.
Waking up from bad dreams and smoking cigarettes -
Cuddling a warm girl and smelling stale perfume -
A hot summers' day and sticky black tarmac -
Feeding ducks in the park and wishing you were faraway -

That's entertainment.

Two lovers kissing amongst the scream of midnight -
Two lovers missing the tranquility of solitude -
Getting a cab and travelling on buses -
Reading the grafitti about slashed seat affairs -

That's entertainment.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Blood and guts


It's the end of the world as we know it.
Those fucking American rapture specialists must be preparing for pigshit heaven right now with the armies of the unbelievers - therefore, the antichrist - engaged in bitter battle with the armies of the jews.
I've seen too many pictures of dead children being taken from bombed out buildings these last couple of weeks. At least I'm not the only one getting disturbed:
Here's Emma Brockes.
Everyone has their own tipping point. For some it was North Korea's decision to fire missiles over the sea of Japan last month; for others it was the transcript of Bush and Blair rap-speaking at the G8; the relief into which the number of Iraqi dead has been thrown by the war in Lebanon did for many more and for those really paying attention, it was the collapse of the world trade talks last week. None of these crises are in themselves unique, but they have built up over the weeks until you are watching the news one night and suddenly there it is: the out-of-body experience and sense that everything, everywhere, is out of whack. It's like that scene in Jurassic Park when Jeff Goldblum, finding himself being chased by a T-Rex, struggles momentarily to organise a response. "I'm fairly alarmed here," he says. I'm fairly alarmed here.

There doesn't seem much doubt that we're now busy with the Third World War. I imagine that after that radio speech from Chamberlain back in September 1939, things seemed a little unreal for a long time for the Brits. Was this really a war or not? Sure the occasional crazy thing happened - like bombing Scunthorpe - but that hardly passed for real war. I imagine people back then were going along thinking it might work out OK, until suddenly they found themselves up to the elbows in lost family and bombsites. Then it was body parts and propaganda left, right and centre.
War is raging from the Mediterannean to the Indian Ocean. More "international peacekeepers" are going to go into South Lebanon, though quite which country's poor gullible fools are going to be sent is so far unclear. The Christian idiots are busy from Al-anwar to Uruzgan. Only Iran is so far untouched, and partly Syria.
If I was those countries, I would be preparing the tunnels and arming the populace right now. And of course, that's what's happening.
It's turning to hellon Earth. Those fundamentalist God-botherers on all sides must be happy as pigs in shit. And the rest of us will really have to get our shit together if we're going to stop them sending us all to hell ina handbasket - or a cut-rate mushroom cloud, if that so inclines.

Meanwhile, the Western news is full of the fact that the US and France have finally agreed on the wording of the text of a resolution calling for an eventual cessation of hostilities. They don't seem big on the fact that Lebanon has said: ""Unfortunately, it lacked, for instance, a call for the withdrawal of Israeli forces which are now in Lebanon. That is a recipe for more confrontation."

Half the world sees Israel as bully. Half the world sees Israel as victim. It's time that Israel saw itself as safe. That will take a lot of work. But I can guarantee, sending helicopter gunships and F-16's to kill children is really not the way to make friends...
Here's the Christian pacifist Bruce Cockburn on being exposed to the war of oppression in Central America in the 80's:

"i want to raise every voice -- at least i've got to try.
every time i think about it water rises to my eyes.
situation desperate echoes of the victims cry
if i had a rocket launcher...some sonofabitch would die"

Many sons of bitches are gonna die.
But vastly more of us who just want the arseholes to stop fighting.