Thursday, October 22, 2020
So the Lord will shortly accomplish two parts of his plan; sort out Israel (?) and judge the many billions that don't actually believe in him. That's a tough seven years. On the same theme here's some nicely batshit crazy stuff, lifted from the HuffPost:
“Without question, Trump is going to win the election,” Robertson declared on “The 700 Club” on Tuesday, citing his conversation with the deity. “He’s going to win, that I think’s a given.”
Despite God telling Robertson the election was in the bag, he urged his followers to vote anyway. However, Robertson didn’t exactly give them a great incentive for choosing Trump considering what supposedly happens during his second term.
Robertson said the inauguration would be followed by global strife, widespread “civic disobedience that will be mind-boggling” in the U.S. and at least two assassination attempts.
“The country will be torn apart,” Robertson said, then he went off on some biblical prophecy stuff, claiming there would be a period of war involving Israel, followed by at least five years of “extraordinary peace.”
After that, better book the next flight off the planet because that’s when it all goes kaboom.
“There’s going to be a great tribulation,” Robertson said, predicting an asteroid strike right down to the size of the space rock:
God has an iffy history with presidential predictions, at least in terms of the ones He reportedly shared with Robertson. In 2004, the televangelist said God told him then-President George W. Bush would be reelected, yet claimed God said Mitt Romney would beat then-President Barack Obama in 2012 and serve two terms.
Robertson also famously predicted “a judgment on the world” in the fall of 1982, followed years later by a highly specific ending date of April 29, 2007. By all accounts both predictions were incorrect.
Wednesday, October 21, 2020
Tuesday, October 20, 2020
Monday, October 19, 2020
Here it is, the cut cross section of a home made chocolate brownie. Made by my eldest daughter it may well be "peak brownie". Sweet, crisp on top, moist in the middle, a good chunky bite sized portion, it ticks every brownie box that I can imagine. Brownies like this have been on my mind since Bake Off was all about them a couple of weeks ago. Nice to try a home baked one that was so much better than anything you'd buy in a shop.
Sunday, October 18, 2020
Saturday, October 17, 2020
Friday, October 16, 2020
When you first hear of a new name in Spanish for something you already know: If you're going to get into a stew then why not just make it a Spanish stew. Regarding recipes, methods and ingredients; they all may vary according to your taste and what might be available to you. Stew is stew I guess, make of it what you will. What a time to be alive.
Whilst on the subject of food here's a weird rendering of our crop of possibly inedible Scottish pears. Home grown and picked from a wonky tree that's the fruit tree equivalent of Bernie Ecclestone as a new parent. Pretty sure, however we prepare them, that they will not taste as good as this picture looks.
Thursday, October 15, 2020
In a medium sized font for the good of economy and to retain balance in the ecology of ecology: I like this shape, it may be a snake, it may be a probe, it may be underwater or through glass. I've used it a few times now. Here and there. I can't quite recall all the places and times. If it was a voice it might be an IT helpline, calm, in control and working to a precise script, icy but appreciated and effective.
Also, as is the custom these days, further career advice/guidance (or at least possible suggestions) from the archives of oblivion:
After dark but bathed in artificial light. The old harbour at South Queensferry. Taken whilst everyone else is either staring into space looking for the brighter than ever Mars or fixating on the Forth Bridges.
Wednesday, October 14, 2020
Above: A pigeon pointing left and below that a pigeon (the same one in fact) pointing to the right. There are a number of pigeons that seem to reside in our garden, but you never really know where they go, what they do, they're just there. The flop about and only really fly if they need to get to the top of a tree or onto the roof apex. Local chickens may have corrupted their ideas around flight and how to do it. They may also be reincarnated friends or family, making their solitary way on the long journey back to redemption, you can never tell. Fortunately they don't bother the cats and the cats don't bother them either.
All is remaining in balance, in quite a fine balance of things in an unbalanced world. Occasionally one might fly by and bump into a window. They probably are quite dumb but have happy faces. That's about it, hardly Blue Planet standard of wildlife monitoring, photography and depth of content I know. I'm just glad that these birds like it around here.
Tuesday, October 13, 2020
Series 2 is done: Without disrespecting anyone suffering from PTSD I have to say that "The Boys" (currently running on Amazon Prime) is a tough show to watch. Twists, turns, jump scares, unexpected and instant deaths and fruity language and a sprinkling of social commentary. I'm not sure how we started watching this and despite myself I'm not sure if I could have stopped. Perhaps we're being slowly desensitized by the media in advance of some awful predicted or planned event. All in the name of entertainment. A true blue version of Trump's American dream come to life with all of his integrity, self awareness and self control on display (sic). I wonder what any of Trump's supporters watching the show make of it.
Spoiler alert: "It was so beautiful how the three of us sat there, in the shade of an apple tree. Do you remember the day Frederick? Chloe's arms out of the car window. We found the perfect spot by the river, in the shade of an apple tree. It was the first time Chloe ate fresh apples." - (Translated).
Monday, October 12, 2020
...and flying machines in pieces on the ground. Life is a series of birthdays, each one a milestone and a marker. A way of trying to remember people and places or a prompt as to life's slow but steady progress and the confusion created along the way. My first pandemic birthday is now on the muddled horizon despite my best attempts at denial. Pubs and restaurants are closed, travel is discouraged and gatherings are prohibited. Fun sucked up by the Covid sponge. The window of opportunity has closed as we struggle with the quirks and paradoxes of staying safe and alive and being human. An unfortunate and unavoidable state we all suffer from.
Saturday, October 10, 2020
Friday, October 09, 2020
Like something from the last days of Pompeii we toddled on, on our fitness route we meandered and then we ate out yesterday, a very pleasant brunch. We failed to share it via Tweeter or FarceBook so I'm sharing it abstractly via Blowger now. No images however. I may have missed a bit here and there and my camera wasn't used. We enjoyed brunch as the sun peeped through busy windows by the waterside, on a brave new morning. There was coffee and bacon, pancakes and French toast and syrup and a kind of serene atmosphere of pretend masked up normality. We sat and chatted but not for too long. How long does a welcome last these days? Don't overdo it.
Thursday, October 08, 2020
So for the foreseeable future (currently looking at about a fortnight) we're stuck in Lothian. Lothian is a vague kind of a concept of a thing, a mythical place and a set of boundaries that exists only in some Health Board definition of where things might be or should be put. I guess the provision of health services looms large in the thinking but not in the same way as the emptying of dustbins, allocation of parking permits or postcodes.
It's abstract in a way that challenges spacial perception and makes a person question quite where they might be standing in the universe (or if that is even possible). So as my shoes touch the muddy earth or the damp and rotting autumn leaves on the path or the new tarmac on the road I live near to I'll wonder to myself, "Am I really here or am I really in Lothian?"
In the end I concluded, after some slow coffee and rapid chocolate, that I knew what I always knew but perhaps due to educational influence or societal programming I did not dare admit it. Like Camelot or Middle Earth, Valhalla or Narnia, Lothian is quite simply a state of mind, and for the time being nobody can leave it or enter it. Peace be unto you all on your abortive travels.
In other news the nearest Aldi store is in Borrowstone Town Ness and the nearest Greggs is in no man's land between Broxburn and Newbridge. I'll just play relaxing music during the essential journey.
Meanwhile far away across the water, Fife burns like a Big Country lyric. (Photo Tom Duffin.)
Wednesday, October 07, 2020
Tuesday, October 06, 2020
As per the previous post: I was out the other day just idly standing by the river checking for the bodies of any of my fairly few remaining enemies in the torrent. Nothing to see so far and the river was flowing well above it's normal level (see the handy park bench indicator above), it'd been a wet weekend. Maybe tomorrow. I guess I don't really care enough to actually wish a watery grave on old enemies and I doubt I'd even recognize any of the bloated, discoloured bodies ballooning by after all this time. They'd probably be the enemies of other, random people hoping I'd adopt them in death because their own enemies have grown bored with the exercise and ignored them, no longer being on station on the river bank.
Monday, October 05, 2020
Suffice to say walking away from a working project generates mixed feelings. I've experienced this recently following a bit of a meeting of minds and subsequent departing of minds. It was all reasonably good natured but in the end the final straw was the final straw. I walked away a free man but one without a "title", a label or an occupation. I no longer contribute. I'm in that limbo that is, as actors might say, between jobs. I'm too gravely perhaps, too unsettled, too difficult to influence, too old ... I'm OK with that. Things come and go and usually come back again. "If you stand by the river long enough the bodies of your enemies will eventually come floating by", I've never quite seen that actually happen and I've stood on the banks of many rivers.