The Number of the Beast

Which number? Contrary to popular belief and opinion I can exclusively tell you that the number of the beast isn't 666 as you probably thought. I know people make a big deal of this number being important but it's simply not true. I think that portion of the bible may have been doctored back in the day and, like a few other bits, it's gone on to fool many people. There's not been a robust system of documentation control out there and dark forces may well be at work 😏.

In one of my previous careers as a forensic anthropologist I actually stumbled upon the real number of the even more real beast. I can't tell you too much about that encounter at the moment. Suffice to say I just scribbled it down and casually stuffed it into a jacket pocket before slowly backing away. Demi-gods require respect. 

I quickly forgot about the number as I had some urgent personal business to deal with; buying some unleaded petrol, checking on the spinach and then going home to rinse out the recycling bin. In all the excitement of life's little routines it just slipped my mind and as often happens, time passed. 

Luckily I found it in my jacket pocket the other day when I was looking for a pound coin to get an aldi trolley. So here it is, out in public view, make what you will of it. I was also wondering if it all might have been a simple Biblical typo and it should have been the number of the best. We all make mistakes sometimes.

P.S. The beast did not influence me at all when it came to writing this short piece but he is rather fond of the "best" theory.

Ali's Psychedelic Breakfast

 

It was never intended as a breakfast but, I'm told you can eat whatever you want for breakfast at whatever time of day or night you like. Nobody cares. I'm pretty sure this lines up well with most of Einstein's better theories on time's characteristics in some inexplicable way but I'm not that well educated. I say this as, no doubt, within his many papers and works he probably had a few mediocre theories before he struck gold and ... well the rest is history. 

So will Ali eat this left over, stir fried chicken concoction for breakfast? Well maybe but if anything it'll be later in the day, things being as the are. Brunch perhaps. Before you go and just to tip you right into the abyss of tedium you can hear the original iconic but tuneful nonsense (or what almost inspired the post title etc.) here.

Edinburgh Daily Photo

 

A day out in the sunny capital city drinking beer and eating fish and chips. Dunfermline away to Hearts in the League Cup at Tynecastle was the main bit of entertainment. For a while things were reasonable at 1 - 1 but as ever for Pars fans it didn't really end well. My expectations for the outcome of the game were not high and sadly they turned out be correct. I still had a good enough day though, burning through a chunk of July's pocket money in various busy but slightly annoying pubs along the way. Actually the pubs were fine, it's mostly just other people that annoy me.

The Real Macy

This is the real, grey, Macy (Macy Grey). Still lost as far as I know but should you encounter him you'll know him by his highly skilled whistling. What a talented fellow. I hope his owner can get him back home soon. Anyway it's all gone quiet ...

Owl Hunt - The Explanation

SQ Bowling Club has spoken: Turns out the suspected whistling owl was indeed and after all a whistling parrot called "Macy". Macy is still at large. This is really happening right now and we're all hoping for a happy ending when Macy somehow makes it back home. I was hoping that Macy might have turned out to be a rare, mythical Norwegian Blue rather than a Tawny Owl but it's neither thing. It's very green.

11:00 Friday - still out there somewhere.

Owl Hunt

This photo may contain the image of a Tawny Owl but it also may not. We are currently being bothered and entertained (there's a fine line) by what may well be a rogue owl but it's too early in the investigations to be sure. Somebody did suggest a rogue parrot that may have escaped it's cage in the nearby village of Kirkliston, according to FxxxBook, if you can believe anything there. 

The thing is whatever bird it may be it's certainly a persistent whistler. Tuneful, fluent and almost human sounding, often in the style of Roger Whittaker and to add a little drama it's whistling away all night and during most of the day. Apparently Tawny Owls can mimic human whistling so that brand of owl is now the prime suspect.

The sound is currently coming from somewhere in these trees to the south of our garden but being a bird it's pretty mobile; who knows where it may end up next? So far the local bird population has made no comment on the impact of the new arrival. If it's an owl I rather fancy it's chances.

Elusive/Ethereal

Sometimes you just want to quietly plunk away on your old guitar and space out into the elusive, ethereal sounds of the wider universe without bothering about what the local AI band down the street might be playing but then you realize that you just didn't reckon on the full disruptive power of the cat kingdom being set against you. Anything worth watching on TV? 

Incidentally the leather guitar strap pictured here is now 53 years old and was made for me, by an apprentice pal who was working in the legendary Rosyth Dockyard at the time. It just might be the my longest lasting/oldest surviving possession strangely enough. 

Chestnuts, Walls, Zoe, Live at Leeds

Things may never be the same again, we're back to having these (old) chestnuts on the menu. Was it some chance happening that led to my simple submission being published in the infamous cookery book entitled "How not to cook" all those years ago? I'll never know but the Christmas chestnut incident had almost been forgotten and we've now returned once again to that shameful (?) and familiar territory.

Sore back? Why not try a bit of this? Fixing a wall where the rain doesn't actually come in, but it stops my mind from wandering. Always remember; 5 sand to 1 cement for mortar. Cat added for scale.

This roasty, toasty cauliflower was rather nice. Recipe by Zoe. Execution (what a word!) by Ali.

Currently listening to this old banger whilst driving around in my own old banger. Not really a wise thing to be doing at my time of life. 

Retro

At a certain age, mine quite possibly, you feel a certain kind on uncertainty about and mild dislike for things that are a bit too ... modern. Somehow they're not quite right, whatever that means, but you mostly get on and use them, even enjoy them just the same. But then you may also reflect on what appeared to be simpler times and so that gradual descent into some jaded form of aged chaos begins and very slowly picks up speed. Except it's not actual speed, more just drifting idly in some vague direction.

Then along comes stuff like Retroshite and old, battered, but still strangely attractive cars are offered up in a cheap and unglamorous raffle and worse still you can remember thinking how these cars were once familiar sights on the road and, even worse, desirable. The shabby MGB above being a good example, albeit it's not in a great colour (British Racing Green is the best). So what's an old bloke supposed to do?

I might just go for that harmless looking Alfa Romeo 146. I know I've no real chance of success, which is probably a good thing.

Responsible Citizen

There's something going on around here, luckily I'm a responsible and fairly honest citizen so I think I'm reasonably fit to judge things as I see them. As a result I can exclusively say I'm still disgusted by pretty much all the things that I've been disgusted by for a quite a while now.

Nice to catch up again with coldwarsteve's output. Unfortunately nothing that is being observed and commented about has changed. Real power lies elsewhere, well beyond our reach.

Image Problems

The shortest clip with a few views. No idea why. It's a pretty meaningless little snippet. I'm puzzled, which is quite normal.

This is parked here as a hedge against those days when the fates work against us and uploads break (it does happen), some script fails or there's an update and the whirring, grey machine just stops. When you rely upon things you don't pay for then you forfeit the right to complain. I'm mostly OK with that.

By the way the bright light isn't last night's meteorite.

Stuff

The last few posts have really just been pointless little rants about things that I certainly can't change but it's still worthwhile for the momentary dose of self soothing therapy that follows. By way of an alternative this post is almost about nothing in particular just odd photos that I took recently and my observation on AI use: 

In the past I was leaning into AI for picture creation but I've gradually evolved away from that. Funny how recognizable and mildly irritating AI artwork has become. A year ago I was thumping out videos, little animations and "artwork" based around the mostly free, image generating platforms that are out there. It was cheap fun and it filled the spaces but looking back it's all a bit hollow and unsubstantial. It dates surprisingly quickly too, like some experimental fad that you go through that leaves an awkward stain on your life. 

I'm not saying I'll never use it again but for the moment I'm on a break, perhaps I'll catch up later. I think that when I heard a few AI generated music recordings, full band and vocals etc. I decided that taking a step back might be a good idea. Also there's been a lot written about what is basically the ongoing learning plagiarism unrestricted AI carries out and I can see how it may have a detrimental influence on real human creativity. Anyway ... for every action there's always a reaction and the AI Pandora's box is certainly wide open now. By the way this isn't rant, AI (when not aping artwork etc.) has loads of other worthwhile applications.

But what about all the extra electricity needed to keep the hungry processing machines going?

The Balsamic Vinegar People

 "My people were fair and had sky in their hair but now they're content to wear stars on their brows." Simpler times according to Marc Bolan eh? Hard to think of Glastonbury and not reflect on times past when festivals were a muddier, dirty mess where you bought your ticket from a farmer at the gate whilst carrying a ragged tent and six cans of pre-ring pull beer.  From then on things just got more messy and disorganized but you'd eventually hear, perhaps even see Hawkwind, Gentle Giant or Thin Lizzy before passing out behind the burger van. Then the Thames Valley Police Force turned angry for no obvious reason.

Your mum and dad had no idea if you were alive or dead or even where you might be cos' you didn't tell them you were going. Eventually you'd hitch hike home, penniless and bruised but happy. Apparently now Glastonbury is full of shiny, privileged "Balsamic Vinegar" people waving flags at a stage a mile away, hoping for a glimpse of a legend and enjoying beans and pulses served in sustainably sourced containers but nonetheless having a good time despite the prospect of all the terrible traffic there and back again. 

The BBC screenshot above is from their main news page. Even in a crazy world like this there's something annoying about finding Glastonbury's "so called" news full and frontal everywhere at this time of year. Nothing else important must be happening on the planet. The narrative that's pushed of the over-egged social significance of various performances, statements and behaviours, is odd and to my mind totally misplaced. I say this as a pro-Palestine, pro-justice, pro-human rights, pro-whatever the fuck, old fogey. I just don't think Rod Stewart's remarks, Paloma Faith's views, Kneecap's stance or fan criticism about singers lip syncing or auto-tune use, warrant headlines and exhaustive coverage. 

I will forever dislike the jabbering positivity and "in a bubble" antics of the well manicured presenters - we need a break from this. Just let the festival(s) be without all this exhaustive curation and analysis. It's obviously going to be good and bad in places and artists will act like dickheads but there's a least 60 million people on this scabby island who are not there and maybe not at all bothered that you missed Wet Leg or Billy Bragg because you were stuck in the queue for some hot stone, colonic meditation. 

Yes, it's all pretty predictable stuff at this time of year but perhaps we'll get Glasto tickets from the festival fairy in 2026 and maybe discover what really goes on.

South Queensferry Daily Photo

 

Plaster built and emulsion coloured cones advertise one of the two ice cream shops perched on opposite sides of the High Street. Forty flavours they say, who am I to argue?

South Queensferry, some thoughts: The former council and registry offices now house the town museum. It's a dull and unloved old local authority building that I suspect Edinburgh Council isn't all that interested in. The museum is actually good to visit and holds a lot of artifacts and records capturing the area's history but it's typical of our times, run on a shoestring and I presume always on the brink of being closed or mothballed. Whilst the town prides itself on the older buildings, with their historical charm, connected by cobbled streets and lanes, there's little joined up effort to make the best of anything. Things look tired out, some closed up shops seem unloved and likely to be abandoned, all thanks to nearly twenty years of the austerity revolution. 

On the outskirts of town smart new battery chicken apartments form a grey, steely and silent wall between the village and the motorway. Starter homes set up in military lines with hints of green growth and possibilities, their black topped roads still fresh and evenly surfaced. A new generation of younger residents move in, happy and unaware having already been failed by our statistically challenged and meaningless education systems, most with no clear idea of how finances or houses work or how to do the tedious but necessary things. They will learn the hard way as we all do. There's just a hint of "rat trap" about the place. Hopefully it won't come to pass.

Most traffic/housing schemes and road repairs are a cost compromise that just look like a shoddy, half hearted effort to appease internal pressure groups, but visitors still come because of the big red bridge that remains a UNESCO treasure and design icon. So if you can endure the myriad of bumps and potholes along the unloved A90 and all the unfit for purpose connecting roads it's probably worth a visit. I happily live here, it's not a bad place but I try to be careful about the roads and routes that I choose to drive on to come and go. Beware, they spent a shed load of money on a cross city tram system that works well enough but it was so badly managed as a project, along with outdated and grand delusions of civic pride, that it left little or no money for the wider infrastructure ... not all that unusual a story really.

Canis Lupus / Felis Catus

Good luck to all of you out there, it's a tough life, every gig is a sweat-box and every lesson is a spinal cracker and not everyone learns what to do first time. We're in a holy war that's wholly misunderstood. Forget the press and glossy media, ignore the weather, dunk your toast and eat your chips and be a good person as far as you can. Be kind to the wolves too, they have your back and you'll need their help one day because as sure as eggs they know what they know so don't try to fool them. In other words, if you know what you should know I'll certainly be giving this T shirt a solid 4 out of 5 stars, we'll see how it performs in the spirals and H2O gyros that form the home style chemical laundry routine.

Meanwhile in the universe of actual non-wolf based content, somethings that we are all familiar with:

Summer of Sting

 

After a lifetime of not encountering Sting (other than hearing music or watching films) I've now had two encounters in as many weeks. The first was a "tribute" singer who pretty much nailed Sting's material in a half hour set at a party in Edinburgh and then, in the distant flesh, the real deal, way out in the fabled, cloud covered city of Glesga. Working as a three piece, Chris Mass on drums, Dominic Millar or guitar and Sting on bass obviously - they sounded tight, almost perfect, even to my aged ears. 

Millar is an exceptional player and pulled off that rare live thing (in my opinion) of using just the one guitar for the whole set*. Players who change guitars for each new song really irritate me, they may well be pretentious twats, or so some might say. In two hours of solidly playing the same guitar I don't think he had to re-tune at all. The power, tonal range and stability of his either old or well reliced Strat was superb to experience live; a masterclass in working within a three piece band. He created so much space and colour albeit full credit to Andy Summers who did it all first. 

Obviously my rooted to the spot photos are a bit rubbish but we decided to stick with our space and not wander about, though the crowd, all mostly of a certain age, wasn't densely packed or badly behaved. A fine rain began to fall about 10ish and that quietly wrapped things up and we trudged off to rescue the car from an Ibrox car park. Many thanks to the ever present God's of Cornucopia for the free tickets, now I can safely delete all those waggy finger Ticketmaster emails.

*On the final tune he used an acoustic to record a loop and then played over it using the Strat. 

So Many Pictures

So many pictures, a song by Dave Christopher: South Queensferry based musician and pal Norman Lamont has lovingly resurrected and rebuilt some of the material written by his old friend and band mate, Dave Christopher. Sadly Dave died a few years ago without properly recording many of his songs. In the video Norman performs his own carefully put together version of "So many pictures". There's more about Dave and Norman's music here.

Wasn't Born To Follow

Jangle pop with added envelope phasing: When I was about sixteen this short musical piece by the *Notorious Byrd Brothers was, for quite a few months, my favourite song in the whole world. I still retain a soft spot for it as I particularly liked the phaser driven guitar break, a studio effect that was all the rage in those days. The lyrics are mostly just a mystical 60s word salad thing that was common at the time. The song wasn't even written by the Byrds but by the mighty Goffin/King partnership, presumably for a hard cash and a few laughs. 

I don't know how it ended up on the somewhat eclectic Easy Rider soundtrack other than it fits the "bright but on a bit of a downer" hippie vibe. I'm still stuck in that by the way, a sort of unplanned lifestyle choice that never quite burned out. It's also a fairly easy three chorder to try to hammer out on your cheap, bedroom use only, completely out of tune £10 acoustic guitar. Bandparts (music shop), formerly of Leith Street, Edinburgh have quite a lot to answer for.

*This is one of a series of badly written articles that you can file under the heading of  "What I may have done then but I'm not so sure about now."

Snail Collage and North Korea

"It's been a bumper year for snails!" said nobody ever other than the many snail farmers across in France and possibly elsewhere too. So in Scotland the snail community doesn't seem to be doing so badly in our garden and as we've not got any actual proper fruit and veg to worry about I've declared peace and prosperity across the small green place and the snails can pretty much do what they like and go where they please. Peace has broken out. Let that be a lesson to the warmongering elite that make their miserable choices to destroy any alternative ideology that they can't tolerate. A simplistic view I know but too much situational analysis numbs my brain ...  so back to happy snails and onwards to South Korea.

Ho hum, here's North Korea, off in the distance, as seen from South Korea. We move in a turbulent world. Photo by Liv.

More or Less Content

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A PUBLIC SERVICE

 

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Stomp Boxes

Free parking and unfinished business: Chinese built mini pedals, a Build Your Dream (BYD) production and presentation at almost bargain prices and relatively free of tariffs. I thought I'd be a super smart arse and take a photo of these experimental settings as they seem to produce a nice tone with a workable level of sustain. "What were the amp settings?" I hear you say. Err... 

Gandalf Snacks

By the light of Treebeard's ghost: Here in Queensferryshire we enjoy bountiful supplies of Hobbit inspired snacks, mainly gleaned from Gandalf's Big Book of Recipes. Ingredients from nearby farms and fields are often used or completely ignored. It's all a matter of taste, time wasting and trickery. Despite Gandalf being a wizard and not a hobbit, all his Zoe based recipes seem to hit the spot with smaller framed people. It's a big deal in Fifeshire. 

Even his mysterious Chi-blob cat snacks for dogs and humans work out well (as below). Please see local press for details and shop opening times (by moonlight only) and news of special occult eating events. Also please note that this simple culinary venture is nothing at all to do with any Amazon "turd based" Middle Earth adaptations or film versions.

Edinburgh Daily Photo

An impressive midnight view from the heart of Edinburgh Castle looking down onto Princes Street and across the Forth to the distant lights of the Kingdom of Fife. As you might expect this inferior night time photo kind of misses out the visual splendour of actually being there.

The fabled Camera Obscura is lit up at night for some reason. You need to actually go inside during the day, preferably on a bright sunny one to see the optical magic happen.

After a lifetime of working with all manner of heavy lifting equipment I'm a sucker for watching a decent mobile crane in action. This impressive beast of a tower crane has been busy installing the seating for whatever events are happening here on the Castle Esplanade over the summer. I'm unlikely to be at any of these shows but a big shout out to the crane driver and teams of labourers I watched working up on the terracing putting this whole heavy metal puzzle together.

All The Peaceful Oilfields

 

Ambient: the dull mechanical, blurry hum of machinery and industry somewhere further away, out of sight but audible.

Cruel, rogue and clearly religiously unhinged, the state of Israel carries out missile and drone strikes against Iran, a pretty dangerous and religiously unhinged state in itself. Unsurprisingly Iran retaliates. Within minutes the price of oil shoots up ... while more innocent people are killed or injured. The markets and war machines still have the upper hand.

Friday Thirteenth

It's Friday the 13th and I'm not superstitious but at an even looser end than usual so here's some random, unrelated photos, not all taken by me but they are "to do" with the past few days. I'm also keeping the text (or a stream of "childish drivel" as it's commonly known) to the minimum. No explanations required, perhaps there are some vague connections but nothing deeper.

Experimental Whisky

I'm quite poor at being Scottish. I'm an underachiever. Golf,  Rabbie Burns, bagpipes ... not really for me. I do like whisky however but I know nothing technical or historically interesting about it. I just enjoy a dram. That made this kindly gifted, oddly named bottle of Experimental Series #4 a new discovery: so they try things out in the distilleries? Didn't think of that. Then again you might argue that every cask and blend of whisky is a bit of an experiment. That actually applies to all distillery work or brewing, wine making, cheese, coffee etc. 

Life is just wandering across the world in clothes without an occasional experiment to stimulate and spice things up. Experience a fresh taste or take a hit. I'm looking forward to cracking this open for a nip, maybe I'll just sit back and learn something in that golden glow of the amber nectar and a small set of revelations will emerge through the murky darkness of my mind. Could it be that we're just another of God's experiments stuck on a dusty shelf in a forgotten petri dish in the corner of the lab? - but we can still create good whisky. 

Brown Socks Don't Make It

Some might say that brown socks really don't make it. I can understand that sentiment. This particular colour is simply a rather pedestrian shade of brown, that simple. Not to everyone's taste but if they're comfortable then I'm OK. So if you're geeky enough or simply interested in other vague or obtuse Frank Zappa references then I suggest you check across the five and a half thousand plus posts and twenty one years that make up this blog's peculiar landscape. They're in there somewhere for your perusal but don't ask me, I've certainly not kept any records.

Cat Shit Safari

 

Part of our cat facilities management duties or cat janitorial work as it is often described, are of course carrying out regular sweeps of the garden to collect and remove clumps of cat poo from wherever they may be buried. Naturally not everything is buried nor does it always stay buried. Activity is unpredictable. So it's sort of like an archaeological dig involving research and chance but in the end there's no real treasure to discover,  just the mild sense of smugness that comes with having done some bit of insignificant environmental cleansing. 

Today's impromptu rummage yielded about half of an asda bag of material, so that's not too bad though we've not developed actual KPIs yet. What's left will slowly rot away over time, so I tell myself, but with three active cats out in the garden and surrounding areas everyday, growing herbs and vegetables has become a thing of the past. It's just too complicated to police and the thought of actually eating the produce isn't a pleasant one for me. So ends another dream, silently but with, as you'd expect, an earthy and pungent odour.

Edinburgh Daily Photo

Following a French breakfast fix we found ourselves in the gardens and interior of the Scottish Gallery, Dundas Street, Edinburgh. The rain kindly gave itself up for a few minutes as we looked around it. Here's a large piece of stone that I know nothing about.

Works (indoors) on display by Pascale Rentsch, some of which were inspired or about the gallery garden. Delicate, strangely beautiful and sort of skittish (not Scottish), but in a good way.

Ironmongery sculpted metal shapes and fragments are attached to the outside wall in the garden, not sure who to credit. Being a bit of a construction and fastener geek I spent some time trying to identify the key fixings and how the pieces had been attached to the wall. This is how I amuse myself, seeing and understanding the way other people do the things that I'm unlikely to ever do.

Seventeen Years Ago

I found this old photo the other day. I had completely forgotten about it. That happens a lot, but then again it was taken in May 2008. Here are two adorable (yes, I know) cats we had back then, both fixed onto some passing birds flying off into the blue, I imagine. Clint is on the left, he died in 2023 and Smudge, his sister, is on the right. Smudge died not long after this pic was taken in 2008 after being hit by a vehicle. Shortly after that their mum, Missie, came to stay with us. At the time we lived elsewhere in a green and pleasant land filled with things for cats to kill - unfortunately. Seems like a lifetime ago but it isn't, unless you're a cat.

Kiki's Delivery Service Cafe

 

What's not to like about a "Kiki's Delivery Service" themed cafe somewhere in Seoul, South Korea? Obviously I'm not there at the moment but I know somebody who is/was and they kindly sent me the pics. Kiki's has been a family favourite Studio Ghibli movie for over twenty years and remains in my top ten, now if only I could remember the other nine. It's not everyone's cup of Java but I like it - that of course applies to almost everything. So what's the chances of a themed cafe like that happening in one of our laid back, clean and peacefully beautiful Scottish cities (and remaining open for more than a month)? Pretty unlikely I'd say. 

Lost to the Future

 

Gibson guitars are hamming things up just a tad with a "hunt" for the Cherry Red ES 335 guitar from Back to the Future. It's been lost since 1985 apparently. Report any suspected sightings here. There may or may not be some kind of reward but if you do have this Holy Grail guitar you're onto something. I'm sure you knew that anyway. You can bet that Gibson are up to commercial and marketing mischief here.

Speaking of lost things here's a thing I never did own but for unknown reasons I consider it to be lost. I was never a big fan of EJ but I did quite enjoy this album, a hitless wonder of a pre-Americana kind of black plastic dish. It was close to cool to be "into" this when it first appeared in 1970 before everything got a bit silly. Part of my high school years soundtrack of aural noodles, fights and needless rebellion. Funny how there was almost a straight line from this onto Can, Gentle Giant and the Mahavishnu Orchestra. More old memories. I'm slowly coming unstuck.