ambitions and direction....

well.. it seems that ambitions are being ambitted this year.. and all thanks to my force of will... instead of sitting there thinking.."wouldn't it be nice if.." i said, "this year i will.." and i have!!!!!!!!!!!!! so.. not only have i cleared out the attic, i have a van... i have onions, and i think i have direction.. for the first time in my life, i know where i'm going, and unfortunately its not all that exciting, unless you are me.... but there you are.. one ambition remains to be fulfilled... i will star in a musical.. i'm open to any role, but preferably one of the following....
Eponine in les mis...
Florence in Chess....
Fagin in Oliver!
The Narrator in Blood Brothers...
Frank in Rocky Horror...
Millie in Thoroughly Modern Millie....

or anything else.... al roles considered... except ham and cheese... but thats another day.. till we all sing like we're winning, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!

Well, after nearly a month away, Wisebeard returns... with a tidier house, a nearly sorted attic, and dying rosebay willowherb.... the last of which is deliberate... much as ilike the old fireweed, it had replaced my lawn, and i felt it was time for it to wave bye bye... my onions and turnips seem to be growing well, the cabbages and lettuces seemingly luring the pests away... and my experiment in growing peppers in the windowsill seems to be a success, with five or six glossy green fruits already there.... and i have also managed to be brave, and clear out enough junk to hold my own boot sale... which is nice... so expect to see the beard at a football pitch near you... strange how life goes, isn't it... or not, as the case may be... but i'm tired, and trying to prepare for karate grading on wednesday(when i hope to gain my red belt..) and a short walk in the wilds of Snowdonia on saturday.... during which i hope to raise money for "charridee"... and i will be performing my first kata (pinan nidan) up a mountain, in order to raise even more.... never has the beard that is wise been so in demand, or had such a varied social life....which is slightly worrying... but i digress... so, until claimed by the mountain gods, Wisebeard Salutes you!!!!!

100 years....

Wisebeard returns from celebrating 100 years of possibly the most important event of the 20th century... the birth of Scouting.... yes, thats right, the Beard has been spending the last four days in a tent, in the rain, with nearly 700 people of varying descriptions (and i do mean varying!!!) getting wet, cold, and thoroughly enjoying himself... 1oo years ago Baden-Powell, war hero and free thinker, started what was to become the worldwide family of scouts... and look at us now... but there we are... i was privileged to appear on stage thrice, once with the thougt for the day (a passage from The Subtle Knife, and a short piece on Trust), again for the Beaver visit, again on the subject of Trust, and then at the closing ceremony, as part of the Comedic sketch "The Four Old Scouters," adapted from the python by yours truly... But the greatest honour of all was to be present at the award of the Queens Scout Award to one of my ex scouts, now a leader, Jim Muller... he's worked so hard for it, that Wisebeard will, for once, inject no levity into the mention, save to say that he didn't get his hair cut.. we could do with more young people like Jim... as Baden Powell said, if everyone inthe world were a Scout, there would be no war... there would also be no anti social behaviour, no famine, no environmental problems... and wouldn't that be wonderful... until we can all be Jim Mullers, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, the rain has set in, and Wisebeard personally is glad.... for lazy gardener that I am, I am happy to let nature water my onions.... and my lettuce, carrots and fennel... not to mention the savoy cabbage!! For wisebeard now has vegetables... and fruit, for the tomatoes are growing fine...and the peppers seem to be doing well... with the help of a certain young lady my beds are getting more prepared, and the herb garden is cleared and growing....oregano, chervil, sage, thyme, lemonbalm, rosemary... mmmmm.... nothing like home grown produce.... humans seem to love growing stuff... even if they're not much good at it sometimes....some say this is a throwback to the Judaeo Christian god telling Adam to look after stuff... some that it is due to Frey, or Buddha, or whoever, telling us to.... but i just think that it is something in us, something natural, just in the same way that some ants farm aphids... something we can't help, like building big nests and killing each other.... why is a mystery... probably we'll never solve it... but the point is that we like doing stuff for ourselves, and i think thats why we have a lot of antisocial behaviour.. because now more than ever we are discouraged from doing it ourselves.... we don't build our own houses, we don't grow our own food, we don't make our own clothes... we don't do much except cook, and we try to make that as easy as possible... no wonder people play up... frustration at not being able to do stuff, even if they don't realise this....people are made to feel useless... and why... well, my theory is that its because theres money in it... if we grew our own food, where would Mr Tesco be...??? if we made our own clothes, what would happen to poor Miss Selfridge???..... if we built our own houses, how would Mr Barratt survive?? but at least we would all be busy..... occupieed.. and content... lets be honest, mos people have jobs they dislike, and lives that are very samey... get drunk, watch telly, shout at a football.... and get frustrated and become antisocial... and its happened before.. the better off a society becomes, the more decadent it gets, and the greater the level of violence and antisocial behaviour... just look at rome!! but waht's the answer... even a wise beard does not know.....but until we find one... Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The devious Cows... and their wrong legs....

Cows.... bovine milk factories and leather sofas in waiting.. or evil alien creatures attempting to take over the world??? Easy question to answer, I hear you say... or is it??!!?? A friend of mine... well, more an aquaintance... well, someone I get paid to be near, to be totally accurate, is of the opinion that our beefy buddies are in fact more cunning than we give them credit for... the leather and burgers are just a distraction, to take our minds off their dastardly plotting to conquer humanity... And what first gave him this idea?? The fact that cows' legs are wrong... they are too spindly to hold them up.... they lie down funny.... they get up funny.... and cattle kill people.... about 20 a year in this country.... which brings me to the conclusion that we are at least winnin the war of attrition....but fear is a funny thing.... I once read an article in some sunday newspaper, that it could actually be beneficial to have an irrational fear and hatred of something... so from that moment I became afraid of Mrs Jenny Torrance of 18, Regent Terrace, Brighton.... who she is, I have no idea... and why I am afraid of her is a complete mystery.... and you don't get more irrational than that!! But I digress.... butthen, I have been ill.... tonsilitis wiped out my camping at Beaudesert, and my prebooked week off work was spent mainly in bed, watching Gorky Park... one of my favourite films.... partially because it's one of the few films that features a car chase with Ladas....and a couple of immortal lines....

Irina: The KGB have better cars....
Arkady: Yes, but they don't always take you were you want to go....

And later on, in the militia interrogation room....

Golodkin: Yes, that's him... Jack Osborne... he came to me, wanted a big church chest... That's not a nun with tits.....

featuring fine performances from William Hurt, Michael Elphick, and Alexei Sayle, along with Brian Dennehy (one of my favourite and I think highly underrated American actors..) its a great film.... but, again, I digress..... my sanity last week was saved by my lady friend, who I think still has it.... but never mind.. I never had much use for it anyway... so, until all Parks are like Gorky, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!

Fatalism.. or not......

Well, the beard that is wise but inebriates not is having a rare old time.... one of the best he's had for a while, to be honest... windowsills full of tomato plants, a coffee table model railway about to jump off the planning board and into reality, an ISA, a lovely fun relationship with an incredibly beautiful woman, a Ford Cortina, and many other great things... strange how things go... which brings me to a quandary i've had for a while.. religionwise I should be a bit of a fatalist, but often I find I'm not.... to enlighten you as to the reasons, I must tel you that the Beard is in fact pagan... and I mean it in the old fashioned sense, not the more modern (and innaccurate) one of Atheist... pagan of course comes from the latin paganus.... meaning country dweller..... meaning one rustic enough to still believe in the old gods of nature, rather than the more sophisticated "city gods..." but i sort of digress... a fair while ago I decided that the old gods of my viking forefathers made far more sense to me, geographically, culturally and faithilly... (is there such a word..?? there is now...) now, according to this faith, a man (or woman, of course) is born when one of three sisters begins to spin a thread.... everyone has a thread, and it is this sister's job to spin them... a person dies when the third sister (of three, I hasten to add...) cuts the thread.... now, it is obvious that no one has any choice in this.... at all... you are born when you are born, you die when you die... this explains, of course, why we all know of someone who was fit, and healthy, but dropped down dead art thirty... and we also know someone who smokes like a chimney and never exercises, and will be celebrating their 80th birthday next week.... but what happens in between...??? well, one theory has it that the second sister, the one who weaves, weaves a pattern that you follow.... the other theory is that she weaves the pattern you make.... now, the first of these denies totally the concept of free will, which, as anyone knows, may or may not exist... there are good arguments either way, and in fact if there is no such thing it actually makes things easier to explain... but it denies the existence of both evil and hope... the second implies that we have complete control over our own destinies, except where our existence is impinged upon by others.... the second is also, however, a more modern way of thinking, coloured possibly by the Nazarene heresy... plus we all know of incidences of "Fate " and "Destiny..." personally, my take on it at the minute is that for most people, it is enoughthat we live our brief lives as we wish, and the second sister is content to tick over and weave what we do... but that at times, wehn it is necessary, either she is instructed (and by whom?? even Odin is subject to her weaving...) to weave a certain pattern for a certain individual, or that she, either in conjunction with her sisters or apart from them, decides for whatever reason to weave that pattern... which leaves us all at the whim of some power whose objectives we cannot fathom, and cannot resist... which to me is a fairly comforting thought... far more so than the Judaeo-Christian tale that God will no longer interfere with our affairs till the end times.... I want divine or supra-divine intervention, thank you very much.... and i think most of us do... but there we are.... anyway, enough from me for one evening... until the cutting of the thread, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!

not sure.... but something.. or nothing....

Strange how your mind wanders.. but maybe yours doesn't.. so let me rephrase.. strange how my mind wanders... i was remembering the othe day a theory of matter that myself and a schoolfriiend invented at school.. strangely enough.. the basics were this..that really, there were only two things in the universe... stuff, and gap... and everything else was made up of them.... and that there was more gap than there was stuff... and just to make it more fun, what we tend to think of as gap is usually made up of stuff... for instance, space and time... for in my opinion time is not the stage upon which we act, but merely another player.... time, we must always remember, does not pass.. it is only the failure of our nervous system to comprehend time that gives the illusion of time passing.... all moments are both instantaneous and eternal... when you imagine existence, imagine one of those long exposure photos of the brooklynn bridge at night, with all the headlamps showing as lines.. then imagine every lamp line to be an individual particle... and that the picture is infinite.. and you've got a fair idea of what the universe really looks like...i was told once that everything in the universe was simply a probability function... i've also been told that everything is simply a wave function equation, or that its a product of a deranged imagination.. although my money's on the last.... but it gets late, and i digress.... and i still haven't explained the appeal of Anthea Turner... if it is indeed explainable.. until we are all perfect housewives, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!

Dippers, Doves, and dandruff....

The beard which is wise had a lovely walk in along the Derbyshire/Staffordshire border yesterday, along the beautiful river Dove... strangely enough, at the incredibly famous Dovedale, near Ilam... walking along the Staffs side to the stepping stones, we found said stones to be half underwater... but, if not for the central on being under six inches of fast flowing torrent, they would have been passable.... but with a twelve year old, it was not a good idea.... so, steps retraced, it was over the bridge, and along the dale... and, once the sun came out, a very beautiful day it was... we strooled through to Milldale, crossing the famous Viators Bridge, and then put ourselves in reverse, and went back through the dale, the return journey, as usual, seeming only half the distance... ther were buzzards and ravens aplenty (which will please my friend at Polyolbion...) and we saw one solitary dipper, plunging beneath the fast flowing Dove to reappear several times on its way upstream... but no doves, or even pigeons... although we did see one shot rabbit, one dead sheep, and one part mummified bunny... which just goes to show... a stark reminder that, no matter how peaceful and picturesque, even a place like Dovedale is a place of life, and therefore also a place of death... and, of course, it reminds us that in England at least, there are no wild places.... it is only the action of man, in industry and agriculture, that gives us Dovedale, The Peak District, the Yorkshire Moors, the lake District.... so remember, next time you see people objecting to quarrying, open cast mining, factory building.... if, hundreds of years ago, the same nay sayers had had their way, we would not have the Peak District.... the world always changes, and nothing man does is permanent... if we scar the earth today, time will repair the scar... in a few thousand years, the scar will be gone, or beautified.... grown over, and essential.... ah, I hear you say.. but what of the dandruff?? Well, suddenly finding myself to weigh only 15 stone 12, and not the 18 stone expected, all I can think of is that the Head and Shoulders has worked wonders... and with that, it is time to go... until all men realise that we are not so important that we can end a world, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!

its that time of the month....

Its been a strange year for me... starting on new years eve (which to you is last year, but not to me... more of that later...) and carrying through to today.... its a topsy turvy twisty turny life I lead.... apparently.... but back to years.... I well remember the "end of te world " mania around the so-called "millenium" with those Christian groups, and others who should have known better worrying about God's second coming.... even I, as a non-Christian got a little worried... not about God, as such, but about some loon trying to do God's work and stirring up armageddon.... but when all is said and done (as ABBA so famously said) its all just numbers.... I mean, some of us pagans number this year 1007 after the discovery of Vinland.... some of us use the Christian years... and I, along with many others, don't use numbers at all.... I name the years after significant events... so therefore I don't know what year I'm in until after its over... and to explain more about New Year.... the secular year begins Jan 1st, at midnight... the tax year on April 4th if i remember correctly... then we have Chinese new year, Jewish new year, Islamic new year... but I still get weird looks when, in October, I tell people to have a happy new year.... that's right, our year begins in October... technically it begins with the first frost, but to make it easier we begin it at sundown on the day of the new moon nearest the end of October, or on the day usually called Hallowe'en.... sundown?? Yes, as our tales tell that the world began in the cold and dark.... so our day begins in the dark, once the sun goes down, and continues to the next sundown... and then the year begins in winter... and we have thirteen months....as there are thirteen new moons in every year, and a month is literally a "moon..." which can get confusing, especially as pagans themselves don't really agree how many we have, and what they're called.... for example, to me, we are in Hred month.... the month sacred to Hred... new year falls in Winterfilth, or the time of tree felling for winter... but to some , we are in Barren Moon.... mind i always find it strange that, although we live in a supposedly Christian country, and the secular calendar has Latin months, we have kept a tight hold on the days.... our Monandaeg, Tirsdaeg, Odinsdaeg, Thorsdaeg, Freyrsdaeg, Saetaresdaeg and Sonndaeg are recognisable to all... but I digress.... I think what I'm trying to say is that it doesn't really matter what we call the days... or the months, or the years.... we all, as Philip Larkin would have said, live in the same ones..... regardless of the International Date Line.... but there we are.... the only alendar that really worries me is that one that counts downwards.... lets hope they're not right... until all our days become nights Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!

not the best of weeks....

But still basically ok.... and it started me wondering about the old trouble coming in threes thing...and deciding that its aload of rubbish... it seems to me that we just have trouble thinking of things in, say, groups of six, or twelve, and three is just a convenient number... but when we do have a problem, it seems to put us into "recognise problem" mode, and we tend to pick up on other problems which have been there for ages, but we just haven't noticed it... its a similar mechanism to the "PurpleCar" one... if you are not aware of this, I will explain... yu may never have conciously seen a purple car... but the minute you consider buying one, you will suddenly see loads of them on the roads... not because they weren't there before and now are, but because you have just uploaded the "recognise purple car" firmware... it works with all sorts of things... try it one day... but we do have a thing about threes, don't we... troubles, bears, rings for the elven kings, parts of gods, being a crowd, and of course the rule of three, without which cinema and literature (and I use the word in its loosest possible sense) would be either duller, shorter or more longwinded... interesting that we tend to group in pairs rather than threes..... but I digress... and I'm tired... until your troubles go away in threes just to be fair, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!

Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Very good week.... and apart from Sileby model railway show, that's all I'm saying.... Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!

Valentines Day.....

Cumberland sausage and cherryade..... and that's all I'm saying..... Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!

Half Term begins....

And probably ends again very quickly.... with tons of plans that are very unlikely to be executed... but enough of that... so far i've done some shopping, ensured that my son spends at least some time with his mother, built a snowman, had the most enjoyable snowball fight of my life, built some more bits of a model railway, (a small n-gauge, built from leftovers for a friend's son... not brilliant, but serviceable) listened to the BBC recordings of Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy, listened to Sad Les and Chess about three times each, watched Return of the Jedi, and planned for next week... and all since Thursday... and that doesn't include working on Friday, when we had to do two days worth of deliveries to make up for Thursday..... Our trip to Wales has been postponed to Easter, so I now have saturday free next week... but I'm sure that won't be the case for long..... But I am looking forward to next week.... a trip to Leicester to spend my son's birthday and Yule money.. (that is, he's spending it, not me...) a disco at Scouts on Tuesday, at which i will be dressed fancy, and on Wednesday I have been invited to dinner by a very attractive young lady of my aquaintance... I shall, of course be providing dessert... I would tell you more, but as she reads this blog occasionally (and for all I know is the only person to do so... no, I know shellie's had a look..) I will keep my wisely bearded mouth tightly closed..... suffice to say, if it doesn't work out, it'll be a sachet of Birds Custard and a packet of Digestives.... Next weekend, if I remember correctly sees a Model Railway show at Sileby... one of my regular venues.... along with the Soar Valley show at Garendon School, and the DEMU event at Burton....so gusess where I'll be spending a few hours on Sat or Sun??!!??...... By now, you'll probably have realised that I quite like trains.... my favourites being (steam) Stanier's "Black 5", and the Fowler 3F "Jinty"..... and (diesels) Classes 60 and 66... I'm also a great fan of multiple units, especially 158/159s, 170s and Meridians..... but my absolute favourite must be the absolutely gorgeous Model 62..... liking diesels and multiples at one time would have made me something of a pariah amongst railway modellers, but luckily nowadays a lot of the snobbery seems to be leaving the hobby.... I think we've all finally realised that one of the biggest spurs to railway modelling is nostalgia, and as someone who was born after the last steam loco left the rails, I get more nostalgic about seeing 37s, 47s and 25s pulling coal out of our local pits than I could about the steam I've never seen except at preserved lines... and eventually, I think the emphasis will change... already we have a younger generation of modellers who make steam layouts because they've never seen steam "for real..." then theres people like me, who like the modern era because its what we see all day.... my son will probably be nostalgic when he sees a class 158 at some preserved line in the future.... remember, steam finished oin 1968.... by 2068, there will be very few people left alive who ever saw a steam train on a real railway.... but I digress... I think what I'm trying to say today is that life is change, and those of us who don't accept this ar always going to be poorer than those of us who do... language changes, customs change, even people change... and so do our railways.... until all our plans are realised, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!

Off Work... Again....

Well, here I am at home in the snow... my driver's mate didn't turn up today ("ill") and with no-one to help carry, and the roads supposedly bad, I was sent home.... so here I am, thinking about how much more snow we used to get.... I think the main problem on the roads nowadays in this sort of weather isn't the snow, but the fact that most drivers either can't remember how to drive in it, or have never driven in it anyway.... the amount of people I see revving too hard, using too low a gear, and turning the snow to ice is amazing... I usually get nasty looks as I effortlessly cruise by the poor unfortunates slipping ontheir own mess.... remember, start of in 2nd gear, using as few revs as possible, and you'll be ok... and if people didn't drive too slowly, spinning their wheels, the roads wouldn't be treacherous... keep up a fair speed, and the friction of tyre on snow actually clears the roads.... strange but true.... but I digress,.... so, how to spend my day....years ago, with the snow deeper we would have driven(!) to Bradgate Park and gone sledging, but we don't relly get enough snow for that nowadays.... and for some reason the roads get blocked.... but i won't start on that again... so today, the plan is, washing up, help my son build a snowman, try to do some more on a model railway I've been trying to finish, and see whether or not i can get to Beavers tonight... but there we are... anyway, until the snow turns to slush, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!

Well, later tonight I'm off bowling (but not for soup, I hasten to add...)with my Scout Troop.... should be fun... I think it is a primal urge within all of us to throw things at other things in the hope that one of the things breaks, or one of the things gets stuck in one of the other things, or... but you get the drift... now this was all very useful in the so-called cavemen days, when a skill at chucking literally could be the difference between life and death.... but nowadays?? Some very learned people have pointed out that this indicates that for us evolution is over, and that to alter our behaviour we must now make the effort to do it ourselves.... this unfortunately presupposes several things.... (i) that evolution exists... (ii) that evolution is entirely non-voluntary and cannot be influenced by personal effort, (iii) that doing it ourselves is not evolution per se, and (iv) that chucking is no longer a useful skill..... I demolish this argument with all the innate smugness of the non expert, and wait to be shot down... (i) is not proven yet.... (ii) denies that we can take conytrol over our own destinies, (iii) does not take into account that we could have evolved the ability to evolve delibeerately (albeit clumsily...) and as for (iv).... chucking is very definitely a useful skill today....from the bowler in a cricket match (and I dare anyone to tell me that sports and entertainment are not useful) to the Amazonian tribesman who still needs to spear his fish.... so why need we lose the skill....

Anyway, despite the importance of chucking, I am still notoriously bad at it... something I always believed of my songwriting skills... until now.... a drummer of my aquaintance, now turned lead guitarer and singist,happened to see a couple of my lyrical efforts... ok, I forced them on him.... and, guess what... he liked one... but not the other... but there we are... he took them both, showed his band, and hey presto, they thought the same as him.... and as a result, they put music to the one they like (Family Life) and chucked the other away.... so when Insuffuicient Funds (or whatever they end up as ) go on stage for the first time, my song will be in the playlist.... "Family Life, " by Kirk Wisebeard and Insufficient Funds.... so I can now call myself a songwriter for real..... so thats another ambition achieved,... now there's just the publishing of poetry, and my appearance in a Musical to achieve.... preferably Blood Brothers (in which i would like to play the narrator), Les Mis (where for preference I would be Eponine, but not having the figure for it, would settle for Javert or Thenadier) or Oliver, where i believe my Fagin would steal the show... although I'm told Bumble is more in my line.... failing any of this, a role in Chess or Rocky Horror would suffice.... but I digress.... also, my stage appearance as a country and western singer is in the pipeline.... possibly.... but there we are... anyway, until all drummers become seen as musicians, Wisebeard salutes you.....!!!!!

A traitor to my sex!!??!!!!!!????

So, I am a traitor to my sex... so says my young porter at work (but then he is a drummer....) "but why, oh Wisebeard??!!" I hear you ask.... or do I?? well, the main reason is that I have five Dido tracks on my MP3 player.... including "Life for Rent" "White Flag" and (one of my personal favourites) "Mary's in India..." so why does this,I ask, make me a traitor to the male brotherhood?? Simply that it is, in my co-worker's words, "whinging chick music".... now, this led me to think about a comment that was made about me at school, many, many, many years ago..... a comment that was meant as a compliment... a young lady in my Eng Lit class called me "unmale..." apparently she meant that i was not the typical man of the eighties, wearing trendy clothes and desperately trying to s**g all the George Michael fans (little did they know!!....) Then, a few years ago, another young lady (I seem to know quite a few, don't I.... more of that later... possibly...) called me Big Gay Kirk, in homage to the South Park character Big Gay Al.... apparently, again, this was a compliment.... it meant I was sensible, non-judgemental, and a good listener, while remaining fun , and as cool as a thirty-something ever can be in the eyes of youth.... a year later, another young lady mentioned that out of all the men she knew, I was most in touch with my feminine side.... again, a compliment... although most blokes are probably thinking, yup... big, and gay..... Now, although this has definitely meant that over the years that I have never lacked female company, this has always been in the form of friendship, some more platonic than others.... but although every single woman I have ever known, bar one or two, has complained about the men in their lives being too male, and expressed the wish that they could meet someone like me, none has ever put two and two together and realised that they have met someone like me.... Me..... which leads me to believe that although most women say they'd like an unmale, they either don't, or don't want to take the chance.... which brings me back to Dido.... why on earth does a bloke have both Dido and wobbly-head David Grey albums in his house, car and truck...?? because he's unmale?? well, I've never really agreed with that description... I never set out to be unmale, or a new man, or whatever,.. I just try to be a decent person, think of the welfare of others, and try to make them feel good... rather than seeing no further than my own pleasure... but back to Dido.... (please just tell us why, Wisebeard, you beg...) well, put bluntly, I was told by several aquaintances that if I were to play david Grey or Dido in thepresence of women, it would convince them that I was in touch with my feminine side, and a s**g would be guaranteed.... well, as someone supposedly in touch anyway, I can tell you that it doesn't work.... all that happens is that women think of you as safe, and blokes think you gay, or a gender traitor... perhaps with me its just a case of overdoing it.... a very incredible young lady of my recent aquaintance keeps pointing out to me that I occasionally sound gay.... which doesn't worry me....I'm not, not that it really matters... but I think she's fairly positive now that I'm not... even if I do like musicals and loud silk shirts..... but I digress.... personally, I'm a bit fed up with this sexist rubbish.... why shouldn't a woman like trains, and a man collect dolls... Lewis Prothero (the Voice of Fate) collected dolls....and in his own words, he was no wooftah.... in fact he was a Resettlement Camp Commandant.... but there I go, confusing V for Vendetta with reality again....

Which brings me to the subject of cartoons, and comics... I'm a fairly big fan, mainly of Japanese Anime, and some of the darker comic offerings.... early Judge Dredd, the Dark Knight Batman series, Watchmen, V, etc.... anyway, me and our young electrical sales person at work are both Anima nuts, and we were philosophising about the genre the other day.... after debating whether or not its ok to fancy Asuka and Rei in Evangelion (they are both 15, but neither are real.. they are just cartoons.... we both came down on the side of no, its wrong whichever way you look at it...) and whether Misato Katsuragi is sexier than Marlene Angel, or which of the Dirty Pair we'd prefer to marry, and other such serious topics, we got down to discussing why we prefer Anime to other animation styles, such as the offerings from Disney.... and we finally came u with the following.... I'm a comics fan.... and whereas Disney amke a movie with actors who happen to be drawn, the Japanese, being comics fans themselves, instead make a comic book that moves.... and that appeals to me much more...

But anyway, I have had one of the most fantastic days of my life today... but I'm not telling you lot why!!! In fact, this year, although only just begun, has rapidly become one of the best ever... if not the best... and to end in the style of the best sort of American morality comedy drama...

"Well, I guess we all learned something today..."
"Yes Wisebeard.... I learned that tomato ketchup doesn't count as a fruit..."
"I learned that I fascinate a certain type of woman...."
"I learned that Wisebeard is definitely not gay.."
"And I learned that Plan D is always the one to go for..."

Until we all become unmale, whatever our prior gender, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!

Acts of beauty, words of ugliness....

After a (very very exciting and thrilling) experience tonight I got to wondering about one of the things (and there are many) about the English language, and western culture in general... and that is how our attitudes to love and sex are reflected by our language and media... for instance, horrific acts often have very complex latinate words... disembowel, exterminate, annihilate... whereas acts of love between two people, and the parts of the body involved are given names which are ugly sounding to the modern ear.... f**k, s**g, c**t... kiss isn't a bad word, but inject a lot of passion into it, and it becomes a snog, which is hardly the most lovely word.... but most of these words have a long and dignified history.... so why do we give nice experiences ugly names... well, strangely, I don't believe there is such a thing as an ugly word.... only words that our culture has taught us to think ugly.... look to the history of Britain... in 1066 England became a Norman French domain, as did Scotland and wales.... as one observer has pointed out, at that point animals got a dual nationality... inthe fields, where the peasants looked after them, they were English... cow, sheep, pig.... upon the table, eaten by the Norman lords, they were French..... beef, pork, mutton... but not necessarily in that order.... I think its the same with words.... just as we are led to believe that it is somehow "better" to speak with a south-eastern accent (the lingo of the area where the monarch lives...) so words of a decidedly Saxon or English origin are somehow seen as more "ordinary," simple or vulgar than their latinate and french-derived equivalent... therefore acts of violence, being the reserve of the nobility, have posh, high-faluting names.... whereas the baser acts performed by the peasants rolling in the reek remained English... and as English acts they were frowned upon as "base" and eventually, due to linguistic conditioning, the very words describing the acts became "ugly..." even now, it is deemed fine to show scenes of hatred and violence to children, biut not to show them acts of love between two humans.... sometimes even kissing scenes are thought "not suitable for children..." and this is all down to culture.... beating people up is posh and noble, but a good snog is base and common.... killing is a fine thing... but sex is disgusting.... and personally, I think that we could do with a change in this culture.... not an immediate one of course.. that would be disastrous and disturbing.... but we need to start bringing children up to believe that superheroes fighting each other, and cartoon cats being decapitated is disgusting, but that Marge and Homer having a good snog is something everyone should emulate.... we really do need more love... anyway, on that note I shall leave you, except to mention that despite my description of my ideal woman, it has been pointed out that most of the people on stage and screen whom I seem to fancy are blond.... which just goes to show.... my ideal woman knows who she is, and she's definitely not blonde.... but I digress.... until next time, those who would rather snog than disembowel, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!

Unloved and much maligned....

You've probably noticed by now ( or maybe not) that I have a thing about Eastern European cars... but not in the same way as my thing about trains and Jenny Agutter.... I've owned several Lada Rivas, and a workmate of mine owns a Niva 4x4.... and we've always found them to be rugged, reliable and useful... they were also cheap.... Lada, just like Skoda before the VW takeover, were the butt of many jokes...and I could never see why.... lets be honest, as a sixties car, the Riva was head and shoulders above everything British.. based on theCar-of the Year Fiat... alright, so it didn't change much for thirty years (and still hasn't) but did it need to??? I mean, modern cars contain so many unneccessary advances that I often think a loyt of it is progress for the sake of it.... a lot of fibs were told about Lada especially.. for instance, it was the financial situation in Russia that led to exports being stopped, not the brakes or emissions... as many MOT testers will testify, Ladas in the seventies had much better brakes than most eighties western offerings, and the emissions on my 1987 estate would have satisfied the levels for a brand new car in 2000.... so why did Eastern European cars get such a bad press?? Politics!!!! If it became apparent that a workable, good car could be had for half the price of a cheap tinny unreliable one, there was always a possibility that the good folks at the bottom would start thinking Communism was a good idea.... and that would never do... and so began the mission of damning Red Cars.... some of which was ridiculous... for example, we were told not to drive a Moskvich 412... why not?? because if you loosened all the wheelnuts, the wheels could fall off.... surprise surprise!!! why you would loosen them was never made apparent... neither was the fact that you could say the same about any car!!! So it was politics that tried to kill the Lada.... However, that looks set to change... British van firm LDV now belongs to GAZ, the Russian truck and SUV manufacturer, and Lada is sort of part of GM.... but still doing their own designs... even Yugo are back on the scene... so with a bit of luck we will be seeing "commie cars" back in this country soon.... but there we are.... until next time, anyone who has defied authority and bought a decent car, Wisebeard salurtes you....

Twice, twice

And again i seem to have repeated myself... strange.....

Railways and runners....

A short while back I mentioned Jane Asher.... for which I am told I should apologise... but I sha'n't....(notice the two apostrophes there... as a contraction of "shall not" one apo replaces the ll, the other the o... just like in "ain't" the I takes the place of the m to make it easier to pronounce... but I digress, didactically....) but if I remember correctly, I mentioned a certain Jenny Agutter.... one of the formative events of my youth happened, if I remember correctly, during a school summer holiday at the age of about ten.... one day I sat down to watch the Railway Children, one of my favourite films... and there was Jenny ripping off her red flannel petticoats.... which is soft porn indeed to a ten year old... but later that same week, I was allowed to stay up late (till 10 if I remember correctly) to watch Logans Run... and there was the same lovely Jenny, wearing absolutely nothing, and getting very wet and clingy in the Potomac.... which led me to wonder... how true is it that our sexual prefences are set in childhood....?? I mean, I still like Jenny Agutter, but wet and clingy, and totally nude do very little for me.... and as for red flannel pettiicoats.... although there is the thing with trains..... but I think most of my sexual preferences ( and no, I'm not telling you, although you've probably figured out the red hair, white lab coat and stilettos thing for yourself...) were set during adolescence.... and possibly later.... and I definitely (sorry Sigmund) go for women who remind me of my mother... mind, compared to some people I know, my preferences are quite pedestrian... a friend of mine would only have sex with Princesses.... he burnt himself on the exhaust pipe.... ( sorry.... old British Leyland Joke there..... but then, so were most of their cars...)But anyway.... if you really want to know, and I'm sure you do, I'll give you a few clues.... think Joan Collins, Liz Hurley, and David Bowie.... or rather, best not.... all I will say is that from my eighteenth birthday, my ideal women has been the same.... breathing, and at least vaguely female.... but seriously... if anyone out there is interested, which I sincerely doubt, 25-50, dark hair, dark eyes, medium to large build, and, this being the most important thing, intelligent, talkative and fun.... other than than those last three, everything else is optional (except age.... 18 is as young as I go...) one thing I really dislike is vague people, and people who don't understand jokes, even when explained with diagrams.... even worse are those who want the jokes explained with diagrams, even after you've asked them to forget it several times, annd know you're going to be dragged into a half hour explanation of something that wasn't all that funny or important in the first place.... but I digress..... anyway, that's about all for now... until we all get the Jenny Agutters of our dreams, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!

Railways and runners....

A short while back I mentioned Jane Asher.... for which I am told I should apologise... but I sha'n't....(notice the two apostrophes there... as a contraction of "shall not" one apo replaces the ll, the other the o... just like in "ain't" the I takes the place of the m to make it easier to pronounce... but I digress, didactically....) but if I remember correctly, I mentioned a certain Jenny Agutter.... one of the formative events of my youth happened, if I remember correctly, during a school summer holiday at the age of about ten.... one day I sat down to watch the Railway Children, one of my favourite films... and there was Jenny ripping off her red flannel petticoats.... which is soft porn indeed to a ten year old... but later that same week, I was allowed to stay up late (till 10 if I remember correctly) to watch Logans Run... and there was the same lovely Jenny, wearing absolutely nothing, and getting very wet and clingy in the Potomac.... which led me to wonder... how true is it that our sexual prefences are set in childhood....?? I mean, I still like Jenny Agutter, but wet and clingy, and totally nude do very little for me.... and as for red flannel pettiicoats.... although there is the thing with trains..... but I think most of my sexual preferences ( and no, I'm not telling you, although you've probably figured out the red hair, white lab coat and stilettos thing for yourself...) were set during adolescence.... and possibly later.... and I definitely (sorry Sigmund) go for women who remind me of my mother... mind, compared to some people I know, my preferences are quite pedestrian... a friend of mine would only have sex with Princesses.... he burnt himself on the exhaust pipe.... ( sorry.... old British Leyland Joke there..... but then, so were most of their cars...)But anyway.... if you really want to know, and I'm sure you do, I'll give you a few clues.... think Joan Collins, Liz Hurley, and David Bowie.... or rather, best not.... all I will say is that from my eighteenth birthday, my ideal women has been the same.... breathing, and at least vaguely female.... but seriously... if anyone out there is interested, which I sincerely doubt, 25-50, dark hair, dark eyes, medium to large build, and, this being the most important thing, intelligent, talkative and fun.... other than than those last three, everything else is optional (except age.... 18 is as young as I go...) one thing I really dislike is vague people, and people who don't understand jokes, even when explained with diagrams.... even worse are those who want the jokes explained with diagrams, even after you've asked them to forget it several times, annd know you're going to be dragged into a half hour explanation of something that wasn't all that funny or important in the first place.... but I digress..... anyway, that's about all for now... until we all get the Jenny Agutters of our dreams, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!

Here we are again, happy as can be...

Having just spent six hours(!!!!) clearing out a twelve year old's bedroom, I can certainly say I achieved something with my day.... whether it was worthwhile is another thing.... I'm pretty sure that in two days' time the place will be just as bad as before... but there we are... which brings us to painting the Forth Bridge, or rolling that stone up the hill... some jobs are neverending... others just seem so.... but as usual, I digress.... I'm writing poetry again, which puts me some of the way towards the ambition I mentioned the other day... not far along the road, but getting there.... when it comes to poetry I often feel like Taran, the Assistant Pig Keeper inLloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles....(and NOT, I hasten to add, in the dire Disney film "the Black Cauldron...") .... if any of you out there have ever read the books, you may remember that in the fourth, "Taran Wanderer" our young hero sets out to find out who he is.... during that time, he learns easily how to plant a field, weave a cloak, and forge a sword.... but the one skill he comes to desire most, the shaping of clay, seems to escape him, until finally, after much hard work, he throws a wine bowl that the master potter declares to be passable.... and he realises that to become as good as he wishes, he would need to spend his whole life at the potters wheel.... but due to his commitments to others, and his duty, he cannot.... he cannot be selfish, and let his friends suffer for his desire.... so in the end he leaves.... sadder, but wiser..... and happy for the memories.... well, as I say, that's how poetry feels to me.... like Taran, I occasionally, after a lot of hard work, turn out something I feel is passable... not great literature naybe, but fit for its purpose according to the "sale of poetry act 1964"..... I think all of us, if we know ourselves well enough, have something the same inside us.... as Ricky Pym said, "Dreams... dreams are like the Stars.... we may never reach them... but, OH! how we profit from their presence!"... so to all you dreamers and poets, and would-be clay-shapers, Wisebeard salutes you!!

What a lovely day.....

For wrapping yourself in clingfilm, sitting on a supermarket shelf and saying to the missus, "this is another great special offer..." But there we are.... The words of the great Ken Dodd, one of the funniest men in the world ever.... he only had to come on stage and even people who had never heard of him laughed.... my mum went to see him for a one hour show... it quickly turned into three hours, because everyone was laughing so much... my mum says she was crying, and amost stopped breathing, he was that funny.... unfortunately, I can't think of any of the new breed of stand ups that have this ability.... and I blame Ben Elton.... but then I have done since he started co-writing Black Adder, and got Baldrick totally wrong.... anyone who saw the original series will know that Baldrick, son of the dung gatherer, was the clever one... he always did have a cunning plan... a proper one... it was Percy and Edmund (known affectionately to his father as The other one...) who were the half wits.... then Ben Elton arrives on the scene.... one of those rich young fake socialists that our universities unfortunately used to churn out to annoy the working classes.... although I always got the impression that it was all a Thatcherite plot to put Bernard Manning on the dole queue... but again, I digress..... What brought all this on I hear you ask.... despite the absence of speakers on my pc.... well, mainly because I was at the Battlefield of Bosworth this morning with a very nice young lady who will remain nameless for the time being.... we had a nice stroll along the canal to Richard's field where the poor old chap was killed, then over throughAmbion wood to King Dicks Well, and then on to the Dog and Hedgehog in Dadlington, where we had a very nice lunch (and were amazed to find a place serving liver and bacon!!) ... I'm sure they won't mind the plug.... although when we went in it seemed that business was booming.... and that got me to thinking about the relationship between conflict and comedy.... can you have one without the other?? Take the Good Life.... a great comedy, and all about conflict.... suburban values against self sufficiency.... monetarism against traditionalism.... snobbiness against sensibility.... and hand in hand with this conflict, respect for others... for all Margo's snottiness, she respects Tom and Barbara... they are friends in a way nowadays unusual between next door neighbours... and I bet any decent comedy you could name has conflict... Alan partridge vs the BBC, Mainwaring vs Hodges, even the Vicar of Dibley vs initial prejudice against women priests.... and the same goes for conflict... every war has a humour of its own, despite the horrors.... for instance, the naked Australian who interrupted a British, a Turkish and a German General involved in ceasefire talks at Gallipoli with the words "any of you jokers nicked my kettle??" Or who could doubt the humour of the first world war captain taken back into the army in 1939.... sent on an officer training course, his cadre were given the task of planning an attack on a heavily defended bridge... while the new young subs talked amongst themselves, drew plans and generally discussed things, the old officer leaned against a tree, and smoked a cigarette.... when the other officers offered up their plan of splitting the section into two, and executing a feint followed by a pincer attack, this ex-captain scoffed and tutted..... asked by a training sergeant what he himself would do, the older man said..."I would line the men up on this ridge, fix bayonets, and then walk toward sthe bridge.... at this point here we would charge the enemy positions head on..."

"My god, sir," exclaimed the training sergeant... "What do you think would happen if you actually tried a lunatic plan like that!!"

"Well," said the ex-captain..." In 1916 we captured the bridge, and I got the Military Cross...."

But there you go... until next time, to all those embroiled in combat or comedy, Wisebeard salutes you......

Ambition... such a dreadful thing to have.....

Within the next year I intend to do my best to realise one of my longest held ambitions... to get some of my poetry in print.... and not just on the net.... I mean in a book.... I've had short stories published, and a couple of non-fiction articles.... but my poems have so far managed to escape the page.... I'll keep you posted...

But isn't ambition a terrible thing.... suppose, instead of simple things, like having poetry published, and running my own light haulage business, my ambitions encompassed world domination, or the destruction of mine enemies.... wouldn't that just suck... first, if I did achieve it, I'm sure, like alexander, I would weep... but more terrible still, under my current circumstances, I would probably not be able to realise them... 2000 years ago it would have been easy... regardless of wealth or social status, a man like myself, wise AND bearded, would simply be able to journey to neighbouring villages, drum up support, gather a rag tag army and take over the province.... get a few legions on my side, march on Rome or Peking or Walsall or wherever and emerge as Emperor.... then neighbouring empires would fall... gosh, wasn't it easier back then.... problem is, I'd try to be a good ruler, and therefore would fail dismally... people don't want good rulers.... they're usually happier under bad rulers, and better off under indifferent ones.... and I personally think that channelled indifference is the way forward.... I mean, look at what such a thinghas achieved in Leicester.... acknowledged as one of the most racially harmonious cities in Europe, if not the world, why does Leicester have fewer problems with so-called ethnicity than say, Bradford??? Well, not because of any great effort on behalf of the Council, or the traders, or even the people.... looking at it objectively, its because we really couldn't give a s**t who our next door neighbours are as long as they don't cause us any bother.... round here, most of us couldn't care less what racial group owns the shop, as long as it sells fags and cornflakes.... and we sure aren't going to brick the windows.... otherwise, where do we buy the milk tomorrow.... under the present climate in leicester, I really couldn't see us having race riots like they had in Bradford a while back... because we really are indifferent to race.... it just doesn't matter to us whether someone is Indian, Caribbean, Bengali, Polish, Scottish, or whether they mix or don't.... we don't worry about integration or segregation, and just let everyone get on with life.... but if ever we do start worrying about it, we'll probably have trouble.... so to all those who can constructively channel their indifference, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!

Back to Work....

Miraculously Wisebeard recovers... the healing power of Kind Hearts and Coronets, truly the second greatest Alec Guinness film ever... coupled with an afternoon of sleep, and a copy of Railway Modeller.... ah, yes, Wisebeard plays with trains!!!! Model Rail is the mag of choice, but Railway Modeller comes a close second.... and British Railway Modeling is very useful, but to be honest, I find it a bit snobby.... although they are now doing a "readers layout"section (think readers wives, but better...) and i am hoping to get my layout featured... I was told by my van porter today that he is convinced I have an orgasm when I see a train, and that he believes if I were given the choice between watching a Class 66 roll through the country and a s**g with Charlotte Church and Nicole Kidman then the trains would win... which shows that belief can be close to truth.... although had he said Jane Asher.... but more of her later.... it led me to think about why trains are preferable to women... I came up with the following....

1 A train will not complain if it sees you ride another train...
2 You can ride many trains in a day, and not be tired..
3 Trains prefer it you come before they do....
4 If you spend money on a train you are guaranteed a ride....
5Trains have there own in built protection system...
6Maintenance is not your responsibility with trains...
7 Trains will let you ride no matter how long and hard they've been working....
8 If you miss one train, there will be another along very soon...
9 trains will always let you go all the way, even on your first meeting.....
10 Trains don't mind at all if you bring some friends along....
11 Friends won't take the p**s if they find you riding an ugly old train....
And above all, they're a lot cheaper....

Earlier i promised more of Jane Asher.... I wishI could deliver, I really do.... due to her and Sarah Ferguson red hair is forgiven.... but I digress.... back to Jane Asher (who I last saw in the marvellous A for Andromeda remake, in a white lab coat and stillettoes.... but enough of that.. (and I daren't think of the McVities biscuit ads she was in.....) I know Paul McCartney is having a bit of a bad time at the mo, and I do feel a little sorry for the bloke.... but he did bring a lot of it on himself... I mean, his choice of women.... why anyone would marry a one legged model with a very troubled history etc I don't know, but lets look at sir Paul's earlier cock-up.... take any man in the country and give him this choice... a scrawny blonde vegetarian who won't let you have a bacon sandwich, or a horny redhead who doesn't mind getting her kit off in front of a camera and makes fantastic cakes.... well, I know who I'd go for, and she doesn't have her own range of veggie burgers.... anyway, with thoughts ao Jane Asher reminding me of Jenny Agutter and one of my formative moments, it is time to go.... Horny redheads and cake makers, Wisebeard salutes you!!

Off Sick....

Here I am, old Ironguts Wisebeard, off sick with stomach pains, leg ache and sore throat... must be a sign that I'm getting old... Time was I could eat anything (barring milk products, but that's another story...) without the slightest worry.... people would be off school for days with debilitating stomach cramps and diarrhoea, and the only effect it had on me was a slightly loose stool.... which always led me to wonder... were they really iller than me, or did i just make light of the burden?? Was I in some way more resistant, or just better able to cope?? Or (and I suspect this may be the truth) were they in fact wiser than the Wisebeard himself, using the "illness" to improve their quality of life and increase their "me-time"??? If so, I missed a trick... instead of sleeping at school, I could have slept at home.... The trend has followed me through work as well... since leaving school at 19, I can recall having about five weeks off sick... three days for hospitalisation, five after the removal of a cyst, two weeks for broken ribs... in six years at my current employ, this is the 11th day off sick.... that's less than two days a year on average.... most of my co-workers regularly have a week off for "flu" (read: I sneezed gently this morning...) and yet I can bet that if I have more than a day off now, I will be moaned at more than any of them.... but that, or so I am told, is life.... as soon as I get one, I'll let you know...

Illness, more than anything makes one think... usually about rubbish... what I'm wondering now (and I may put up a survey on KMC...) is this... When I moved into my semi-detached property, I automatically placed the bed in the master bedroom so that its headboard was along the wall adjoining my neighbour's property... in my job as a delivery man, I often see the same arrangement... obviously, in detached houses it is impossible to do this, but they seem to arrange their beds along exterior walls... even in terraced houses (or town houses if you're a bit posher) the beds seem to be along the adjoining walls.... but why??? is this just a British thing?? Or is it the same the world over?? Is it because we'd rather bang the bedstead against our neighbour's bedroom than our kid's rooms??My bed is now alongside the interior wall rather than the adjoining one, and I am using myself as a guinea pig to see whether this has any bearing on my life... if so, do i change for the better or the worse, and if worse, i shall look into getting government money to research this further....In the meantime, please let me know... is your bed against an adjoining wall or not?? is this simply because it's the nearest you have to an exterior wall?? did you just put it there without even thinking, or was it a conscious decision...??? as always, Wisebeard looks to you to help his beard grow wiser... until next time, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!

Ha ha ha ha

If its worth saying, its worth saying twice!!

Another Day another... what's the exchange rate again??

Well, I survived a Cub Scout sleepover... not that there was much sleeping... and there's a Panto this weekend.. Snow White and the seven vertically challenged people, apparently.... should be a laugh... our local panto society at Thringstone tend to overact, wear too much make-up, crack very bad puns and rely on a script full of old innuendoes... which, lets be honest, is what I go to a panto for... two hours of laughing at blokes dressed as women, women dressed as, well, women pretending to be men, idiot policemen and lots of audience participation.... its always a treat, and I go every year... plus they always throw sweets.... except for one year.... due to a faulty spell checker the script called for them to throw suites, and six people were injured by a G-Plan sofa... but again, I digress... or do I??

On a more serious note, I was saddened last week to hear of the death of the great Magnus Magnusson, who most people would remember as being the original host of Mastermind... I always remember him as author of one of my favourite books as a child, "Viking Expansion Westwards"... what a fascinating picture of childhood that conjures up... I always remember reading that book, aged 9 (me, not the book) and finding out that the first Europeans to reach America were not Columbus and his crew, but Leif Erikson and his viking comrades.... it was then I realised for the very first time that what we are taught in schools is not necessarily the truth... gravity doesn't pull us to the ground, we fall into it... electricity doesn't travel from positive to negative... the North Pole is a south pole... and dinosaurs were not reptiles... since then, I have never taken any facts on face value... I have also learned about the (very valuable and useful) teaching method known as "lies to children" and that schools are usually at least 10 years (and often more) behind science... thank you to Magnus Magnusson for opening my eyes...

That's about it... hopefully at some point in the future I will be letting you know how my new soldering iron performs, and how my trip to the Battlefield of Bosworth turns out... untilthen, Wisebeard salutes you.....

Another Day another... what's the exchange rate again??

Well, I survived a Cub Scout sleepover... not that there was much sleeping... and there's a Panto this weekend.. Snow White and the seven vertically challenged people, apparently.... should be a laugh... our local panto society at Thringstone tend to overact, wear too much make-up, crack very bad puns and rely on a script full of old innuendoes... which, lets be honest, is what I go to a panto for... two hours of laughing at blokes dressed as women, women dressed as, well, women pretending to be men, idiot policemen and lots of audience participation.... its always a treat, and I go every year... plus they always throw sweets.... except for one year.... due to a faulty spell checker the script called for them to throw suites, and six people were injured by a G-Plan sofa... but again, I digress... or do I??

On a more serious note, I was saddened last week to hear of the death of the great Magnus Magnusson, who most people would remember as being the original host of Mastermind... I always remember him as author of one of my favourite books as a child, "Viking Expansion Westwards"... what a fascinating picture of childhood that conjures up... I always remember reading that book, aged 9 (me, not the book) and finding out that the first Europeans to reach America were not Columbus and his crew, but Leif Erikson and his viking comrades.... it was then I realised for the very first time that what we are taught in schools is not necessarily the truth... gravity doesn't pull us to the ground, we fall into it... electricity doesn't travel from positive to negative... the North Pole is a south pole... and dinosaurs were not reptiles... since then, I have never taken any facts on face value... I have also learned about the (very valuable and useful) teaching method known as "lies to children" and that schools are usually at least 10 years (and often more) behind science... thank you to Magnus Magnusson for opening my eyes...

That's about it... hopefully at some point in the future I will be letting you know how my new soldering iron performs, and how my trip to the Battlefield of Bosworth turns out... untilthen, Wisebeard salutes you.....

21st January 2007...

Well well well.... as the three buckets said.... my very own blog.... strange that I should think of starting one now, at the tender age of 37... I remember keeping a diary from 1986 until 1988, detailing my experiences as a sixth former at King Edwards College.... in future years it will be a useful tool for those who wish to end the Comprehensive system.... indeed, for those who wish to end education full stop.... and would that be a bad thing?? I remember sleeping in my A-Level exams, but I don't remember any of the questions (although the two are probably interrelated... all education did for me was improve my vocabulary and leave me with an unfortunate prediliction for using three or four punctuation marks where one would suffice... which is probably not what the system was designed for... but then, grammar and spelling are a fairly modern phenomenon in English, or so I was led to believe... Will Shakespeare, the famous playwright, spelled his own name fourteen different ways, including Shakspur, Shaxper and Shakspear... yet I dropped marks in English for doing exactly the same thing... strange.... I find my punctuation system a far more natural one... if a full stop indicates a pause , then why not three for a longer one? A small question gets a ?, so why doesn't a big, urgent or surprising question get more??? And as for a shock! horror!! debilitating terror!!! But I digress... which is probably the story of my life.... so, what's is this blog for?? Who knows? Who cares?? Will anybody else be reading it anyway??? Will any of them even be caught out by DRINK COCA-COLA the insidious subliminal messages I will pepper the pages with???? Well, let me know out there... For readers or no, I intend to carry on at a regularly irregular rate, posting general stuff to these here pages.. you may find stuff here that's entertaining, thought provoking, or just generally wierd... you could have a competition amongst yourselves... "Is Wisebeard wise? Does he have a beard?? Or is he just some idiot who expects me to waste time reading drivel...???" Personally, my money's on the last one.... See You soon...