Inside the vault of toilet rolls

Welcome to the secret world of a failed hoarder: There was a time when I had faith, trust even, in our local branch of Tesco. True it was always a badly laid out supermarket and, in the classic capitalistic way, actually offered too much product choice for it's actual internal store volume but I remained loyal, partly due to brain dead loyalty and partly due to convenience. Even when it semi-closed the deli bit and opened a Yo-Sushi counter, though I was confused I went along with the deception and slight betrayal (this is not an actual middle class, sushi burning area). Now I find than all it takes is the slightest world-wide pandemic of a deadly and incurable virus and they blatantly destroy any customer confidence by negligently running out of toilet rolls, cat litter and something else, the name of which escapes me at the moment. It probably wasn't sushi as I imagine the supply lines of raw fish movements between here and Japan are running pretty smoothly at the moment, what with lack of actual passengers and all that.

I had no option other than to go to bed and sleep quite soundly despite being in the company of an injured and highly drugged up cat prone to eccentric night time behavior. I woke up refreshed, free from infection and cat scratches and headed back to the bosom of civilization that might be Fife. Asda to be precise in the leafy but slightly radioactive suburb of Dalgety Bay. There I shopped and bought everything I required without guilt or intimidation and at reasonable, panic level prices. The locals were civil, jovial and generous, dogs refused to scowl or urinate on bollards, even  their shiny and undented cars were properly parked between neat white lines, indeed the music of Bob Dylan (60s version) was playing across the store as if to signify some peaceful and sensible regime had taken control of the entire retail environment. An immersive  Stepford Wives kind of shopping experience you might say. I felt smug as I drove home, as if I'd just awoken from a pleasant dream where crazy and unreasonable people were barred from shops and public spaces. I expect that the government will announce just such a measure this afternoon at their next propaganda rally, all being well.

The wild blankets

Electric loathing in the Theatre of Corona Virus (oil on canvas).

Day 1 in actual awareness of actual human frailty v Corona Virus: Firstly I haven't got it and I don't know anybody who has it. I know roughly what a metre from another person looks like and I'm conflicted about being out and about in public spaces, small shops and cafes etc. because I don't want loads of small business to fail. However if Virgin fails I'll be sorry for the staff but not sorry for the people who are looking for a £7Bn bailout just because their shit has hit the fan. Also with regard to idiots hoarding pasta and toilet roll, please grow up and understand that you are no longer in primary school with a desk full of bits of chalk, pencils and sticky paper. Finally can I just say a few words about "wild blankets" a) I don't know what it means but b) it provokes interesting mental images. Thank you.

A better tomorrow

As any white horse trapped temporarily in an overgrown but artistic looking tenement block will tell you, things will be getting better soon. There is gloom and fear and there are futile endeavors and $5 prayers, all being sprayed around by an errant media and a less the competent government but I know, as sure as there is a flying spaghetti monster we will survive in some form or another on this rather large pebble we also call a planet.  

Finally: Three words of encouragement to those in homes where the supply of toilet paper is low and panic is about to ensue - use a flannel. (A flannel can be rinsed and washed and reused numerous times).

Beginner's Guide to Social Distancing

Just crouch down a little and nobody will ever notice.

I, like many other people, have been successfully carrying out my own evolved form of social distancing for many years. I learned this because I quickly deduced that "hell is other people" without having to read any books, go to uni or watch old documentaries. Of course this is common knowledge, except that is for that chunk of "other people" who don't realise that they are in fact hellish people. This can be put down to a certain lack of self awareness and personality blindness, probably not their fault. I blame society and the breakdown of family life, oh and the drugs in the water supply and the government and any organised religion that gets in the way.

It's also true to say that to a sizable group of people, I myself am in the category of "hellish other people" and I fully respect and understand that. It could be no other way. You have to be able to take a 360 degree view of your life and deal with it without falling from the edge despite the fact that your head is spinning with the sight of a harsher reality passing you by. 

The next few months may not present too many problems as I wither away on the edges of society. This is simply because I chose to wither away on the edges of society a long time ago so the scene is familiar. The outlook from there is not as bleak as you might think. By next year at this time it'll all be a (bad?) memory, like the three day week or whatever financial crisis last took place. However by then my cryptic self help book might be raking in millions...

Beer Goggles

What doesn't kill you makes you strong.

Return of the Macaroni Pie

Stylish locals brave a blizzard of bacteria and air borne nasties.

I'm surprised that neither POTUS or UKPM have mentioned the potential role of the humble macaroni pie in thumping the dreaded unmentionable virus. In my non-scientific opinion this overlooked snack contains many if not all of the necessary anti-bodies and types of pasta necessary to shoot down in flames troublesome viruses and also render the pie consumers safe from further infection. Notable side effects are however a certain amount of dehydration and the chances of addiction and weight gain. All that salty pastry, cheesy pasta and chewy dough can get to a person so beware of these these downsides. Warnings could of course be issued and gatherings of 500 people or more eating macaroni pies should be discouraged. Stay at least 39 inches apart at all times. Pie production also needs to be upscaled and prices dropped, ice cream vans should be taken up from trade and mobilised with pies and equipment so they can vend and provide emotional support  around housing schemes. 

A word of warning: never eat a cold one as this can lead to complications for those with underlying problems in the palate or prostrate (men and trans-women only), always serve after exposure to heat i.e. being in an oven or in an emergency situation any nearby microwave. Also note that M pies can cause sudden changes to the metabolic rate, namely a slowdown so this needs to be factored into consumption numbers to avoid longer term health issues and problems in the domestic sewage system.

Added brown sauce has been known to double the pie's effective healing power, particularly the Aldi (Bramwell) kind. Another alternative is of course the heavy and regular use of cocaine along with pie dosage. Currently this method is under testing at the White House (Methil and Washington branches), 10 Downing Street and Bute House, Edinburgh. Stay safe. Please note: all of the above information is fairly unreliable and not to be acted upon.

Spot of hoovering

Chairs, hoovers and heaters gather together at a domestic rally (oil on canvas).

Turns out there's all sorts of bugs and viruses running amok at the moment. Presumably due to the lack of a decent winter, global warming, original sin and piss poor hygiene. The government says that cleanliness and loneliness are reasonably close to godliness so I'm giving it a crack. A sure fire way to avoid fashionable infections is to douse your home in soapy products and have a damn good hoovering session where you break sweat. I've just finished mine and collected enough fluff to knit a decent sized cat and found numerous packs of noodles and pan-drops I'd long since given up as lost. Unfortunately I was unable to find any money due to our cashless society and the fact I've not got much money anyway (till that Amazon CD is sold anyway) so I remain coin light as they say. Surprisingly no odd socks were recovered either so that remains an ongoing National Geographic kind of weird mystery. This reality shattering realisation meant  that the whole wretched enterprise ended on a slightly downbeat note. That's jazz for you. 

Vampire Lego

Mint condition, one careful owner. Garlic phials made require refreshment.

Now that I'm eating less red meat I think I'm not so inclined to take up the hobby/lifestyle of Vampirism. It's just the way things have turned out, I'd be an unenthusiastic vampire, the gore is too much and the clothes are a bit iffy. 

Perhaps the other factor in influencing my thinking (nail in the coffin?) was coming across this Vampire Hunter's tool kit on eBay (as above), it looks a bit OTT really and is not my type of thing (if I were to go over to being the actual hunter rather than become a regular vampire). Of course whatever odd items I've been searching eBay for in the past must have led to it coming up as a potential buy for me.

There are no secrets on the web these days and you've got to just shrug your shoulders in a philosophical manner and accept that the universe we are active in has become as joined up as a reasonably well completed Lego set (ages 5 -8). I do believe that other less observant and interactive universes are available and I'll be exploring them shortly.

A fire breaks out in your favourite maze

The self styled "Servant of Jesus" declared today a special holiday for those in the inner sanctum and so a mystic potion was administered to clear their thoughts to prepare them for the trials in the days ahead. Each one supped from a plain earthenware cup, passed from hand to hand with due ceremony. As one they moved across the great space of gathering without question. "Neither look to the right or to the left as you travel", said an unfamiliar voice that seemed to come from no clearly definable source. No one spoke and they carried on, following the glow of the guiding beam.

Light, then dark and then a chill blue breeze greeted them, then a softer and paler light shone down from above like a cold morning's first frosty dawn. It became clear to them that once they'd stepped across and into the holy portal there would be no easy route for their return. Some were visibly upset but there was an effort made to maintain calm and carry on forwards. Now they were cutting all ties with the past, be they happy ones or unhappy ones. Nothing else mattered. Though no one spoke the message received had been one of not ever looking back, so they didn't.

The world they had known was gone, their new location became unrecognizable, many were gripped with fear and a sense of not belonging. They were moving in spaces that none had moved into before and their feelings slowly began to get the better of them. The once curious, questioning and cheery faces slowly turned to grim, troubled and bronzed visages. Jaws cast open in a metallic expression of frozen panic. Though they hadn't noticed it yet, their bare feet were already cut and bleeding.

Add to Basket

I came across this on Amazon the other day. It's not reflective of our normal pricing policy I have to say but if it's a free market and if capitalism is simply sorting things out into it's correct version of economic levels then fair enough. As a leveler you can still download tracks from Amazon for a mere 89p (free elsewhere of course) or stump up and purchase this (used?) magnificent plastic object for £1557.80*. So if you're a CD collector and have a significantly high amount of disposable income don't hold back. Thank you.

*New also available at £1562.38, no idea why either.

Corona World

The five stages of mask application and safety clearly illustrated.

I've noticed that I read and write a little more than usual in brave new Corona World, or is it an age thing or the time of year? Am I simply fixated by the mask instructions or the hope and expectation of more tragic but bleakly funny gaffes by Trump or Johnson as the nuance, complexity and scale of a worldwide pandemic passes by under their dim but beady little eyes? I don't know and I don't think I care. Every silver lining has a cloud. Another seven days of house arrest might result in a smaller waistline and scratched up new novel.

Face Mask Instructions

In a post Corona world the searingly white clinical face mask is now normal apparel. Crude possibly and arguably ineffective it still represents a primary barrier and a psychological crutch for those who choose to wear one. The visual instructions (neatly distorted here for artistic reasons) seem to hail from rougher, more stylized times where comic strip Bruce Lee lookalikes were all the rage and were widely accepted. Mildly racist and mildly disturbing they are a throwback reminder that artwork like this (the IKEA man included) may mean well but will still be misunderstood. The other problem is of course that nobody ever reads the instructions or actually looks at the pictures anyway which is pretty much why we are where we are today.

The comic strip origins are strong in this one. The ghosts of Robert Crumb and various Manga styles are shining through the drippy chaos. If nothing else these products allow us to see where we've come from, the future remains a muddle of course.

The narrative, shown more clearly in the numbers, gives this the look of a narcotic user's set of instructions. It all ends well strangely enough.

Also, if you're self isolating this advice may help:

Photo choice

Could've been a really good photo but spoiled by:
a) Some telephone cables.
b) Some chimneys.
c) Some rainbows.

You choose.

Blustery day

Taking back control: Here's the skies above our old iron giant friend the Forth Bridge on a blustery but bright day.

Thought Bubble

Thought bubble: Now that we don't fight proper wars anymore here in the West fresh distractions are required so we don't just grow old quietly. Other parts of the world are regularly strafed by our drones or trained up and supplied by itinerant troops and industry. It's all a moving model of exploitation and cruelty that creates a convenient smokescreen for big business to do whatever they like. The vacuum of daily crisis has to be filled and our lords and masters will grab at any opportunity to distract and bury other less legal activities. So we now have the twin threats of Corona and Brexit bearing down on these grim and cynically managed North Atlantic islands. 

The public's response is predictable, despite the sale of numerous "Don't Panic..." mugs and posters over the years (thanks for trying Barter Books but the truth is folks neither read or retain very much). People naturally panic buy strange, comforting things: toilet paper, pasta, long life milk, soaps and baked beans. It's as if we've been given a glimpse of how survivalists would (not) pack their rucksacks before being parachuted down onto some desert island and try to stick it out as long as they can before resorting to cannibalism as their tiny world breaks down when the fishing fails and the banana crop runs out.

So stupidity will always win in terms of exposure, that great mass of human uncertainty seeking those unavailable certainties will thrash and quarrel and maybe just destroy themselves in some huge futile struggle. Innocents will be dragged in as they stand by bemused... don't stand by. Anger is an energy as some punk once said. We can watch it all unravel online via the car parks of Costco and Tesco and the screaming headlines of the gutter press as they endeavor to pass the blame down the chain. 

The problem is that not much of what is portrayed is true, small incidents are amplified and a snowball effect is created and the hysteria builds up. Who makes gains from this? Not the poor sods in the queue for hand sanitiser and energy drinks, who can't face a few days of not eating "normal food", they remain the grist to the mill and can be relied upon to perform as if it was another Black Friday. Supermarket chaos and footage of folks in face masks really is for distraction and ongoing smoke screens. Big boys control what you see and will continue to do so. Never underestimate editorial power and control and where it can take you.

So my advice would be, think a bit, read the signs and don't get caught up in the over stretched messages that are dominating the headlines, play the long game and err...keep calm.

Edinburgh on a dull day

The castle in the ancient town of Edinburgh just outside of Scotland, still standing after all these years (?) despite the annual abuse that comes it's way via the Festival, New Year and the Military Tattoo. Also best not to think about the numerous religious and political persecutions it's hosted during the dark ages or the witch trials and witch burnings. All history now, one fictional thing after another etc. but the tourists lap it up.

Today's late lunch

Back to extolling the virtues of food and taking pictures of it but without adding any meaningful comment. So there will be no technical references or useful information, not even a location. I've no idea how any of this spread was put together but it was very nice and the service was polite and timely. Such is the human condition in these troubled times, we now take some solace and comfort in these simple pleasures. Also had a nice coffee on the road side premises of Toyota & Corolla as a pre-lunch treat. We're very cosmopolitan here.

A message from our sponsor

Says the man from the past with the worried and serious look: "The Tories are in power for the next five years, your freedoms are being eroded, your rights are being dismantled, your media is distorting facts and cherry picking the news you see, your courts, justice systems and health services are being dismantled, religion and corrupt businesses and old school colonialism view you only as a slave and you are being controlled, manipulated and lied to on a daily basis. If you're happy with that, fair enough, I just hope you don't choke on it all and that you can avoid getting a Corona-virus sledgehammer cocktail next time your standing at a robot till in Tesco waiting for human help. If you're not happy with this situation then give yourself a good shake and join me in the underground. Otherwise have a good weekend. Cheers!"

Unreliable food blogging

Rudyard's Burger Bar, Houston Texas.

Khruangbin connections: Rudyard's Burgers are a thing and I'm easily taken up on a flight of fancy by interesting menus and the thought of actually eating there once a week, that's strange. Sandwiches are just called "Witches", a good idea, why did we not think of that? The promising sounding  "Not a Shitty House Salad" would be fun to order and generally the food looks to be reasonably priced when compared with the local fare in the SQ badlands. I'm referring to eateries such as Down the Hatch, Little Bakery and Manna House etc. No direct correlation is easy between here and Houston Texas so it's meaningless. 

You could read a series of full reviews based on my musings and  imaginary visits to other imaginary restaurants in the always truthful and reliable Daily Telegraph (on-line only). Click here to be amused to death.

Another day another cat another plague

Social and medical anxiety: Having what appears to be a regular, 2020, normal winter cold isn't a good thing at the moment, it never is of course but with Corona on the loose and massive health campaigns running (like my nose) on hand washing and kissing and traveling I feel like I'm sitting in the guilty corner. Am I unclean, a health hazard, a plague victim who should be ringing a bell up and down the street? Should I do what everyone else seems to do, feel a bit iffy so head off on a skiing holiday regardless and then happily infect most of Italy then go back to my day job in PR? It's the perfect time to panic.

So there's a bit of conflict based on how well I might know and recognize my regular seasonal ailments or failings. I'm not medically astute but I think I know myself, mostly. So this cold seems normal, a two/three day sneeze fest and a head that's muggy like the tail end of a serious hangover. Nothing to see here folks, all things must pass. So I'm self isolating in a low key way. I'm avoiding public transport, I'm using robot tills and petrol pumps, I'm ordering coffee to take out and I'm holding in any potential public cough or snuffle as if it was a bout of career ending diahorrea. I wont be shaking hands, buying the Big Issue or attending any crowded public events. I'm just going to sit here with my pot of home made soup and a big bag of muesli and watch the world burn.