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...