Hermiston Gait Daily Photo

The plain and brutal Hermiston Gait Novotel as viewed from the car park of the nearby Krispi-Kreme. Our buildings and our surroundings say a lot about us but few of us ever bother to listen to their awkward, whispering voices. We pass through these places, often without thought or question, unaware of the normal and everyday imposition of some institution's strange ideas and processes that we must quietly navigate past, minding our own business.

Mindful Resets of Sorts

Things in this country are very annoying at the moment: When every day seems to consist of riding out some kind of unpredictable media storm it's important to take some time out and just clear your mind and maybe listen to a purring cat or the pitter-patter of rain on a window glass. Circumstances are unavoidable and there to be suffered but mostly survived. We can do this. Self medication comes in many forms; time spent with loved ones, relaxing with some well chosen TV content, slowly sipping wine, Vietnamese food, a good book and so on. Pressing the internal reset, hitting the factory settings program button. Meditating on some constructive mantra such as "don't let the bastards grind you down" etc. set to whatever slow tune you like. Be confident that you're on the right side of history and be sure not to allow "them" to write their version. Here endeth ...

Not the BBC Again

 New presenters ready for Match of the Day.

Problem solved 😬

Misanthropic Locations

"The doorways now so tall or did we become too small?

There is no easy shade, from the spiked beliefs we made. 

The ground too dry to till, the sounds too sharp and shrill. 

The heat is all we breathe, our footprints all we'll leave.

We find no explanation, in this merciless location.

We're simply lost."

                      a short poem by Benjamin Nutter.

The BBC Smells Bad

"The Director General of the BBC once asked me if I could please grass on one of my mates who'd said that the recent actions of the British Government were a bit like those of the Nazis more often than not."

So what are we really paying for when, as required by law, we faithfully pay our TV licence fee these days? I'm genuinely not sure, mostly because in order to preserve my sanity I don't really watch much* of it's actual output ... hmm.

*OK I watched Traitors and Gold recently 😳 but not the news or any of their heavy political bullshit propaganda.

Rash Purchases

Whilst it would be the perfect wheeze, I've decided once and for all that I'm not going to buy a ridiculous old Bentley Coupe with a V12 engine and all the trimmings. I'm simply not that sort of person nor do I have the actual capital expenditure to rashly purchase such a crazy thing. There are far better things to do. I'm also often affected by buyer's remorse, a deep and peculiar pain I'd prefer to avoid. So I'll have a simple and suitably fragile vintage Ford Ka instead, nothing special except that it's sporting a glossy black finish covered in some seasonally dirty road salt film. This isn't a picture of it either, that would be giving too much away.

Hope it handles reasonably well in the snow ...

Falkirk at Home

 

Football, what else? Postponed from January 2nd Dunfermline Athletic finally had a go at Falkirk at home in a top of the table clash. We've been waiting for this for too long. Away fans were welcomed with the usual derision and a banner inspired by one time local heroes Big Country. We have complex, poignant and difficult to explain memories here in Fife's least backward corner. A few watery eyes set in older heads greeted the banner being unfurled. The Section North West guys are pretty adept at rising to the occasion week after week, their passion is inspirational. Best not to mention the flying coffee cups and the hail of smoke grenades though.

On the pitch the first half was a messy affair with neither team playing at their best. The second half was quite different; Dunfermline dug in and started playing their more elegant and intelligent game ending as the winners by two goals. The first of which, mainly due to the angle from which I saw it and the amount of actual football crossing the goal line, will remain a strong and  vivid image from an exciting and gripping evening. Falkirk were not the side I expected, less physical and less able than previous Falkirk teams. We're now (relatively) safe at the top of the table. A full moon and the sparking pair of Jupiter and Venus looked down on us. For a brief moment all was well in this fragile world.

What's Wrong With Scotland?

Edinburgh: home to cycling activists, maniacs and tramways, viewed in the shimmering twilight of it's Gothic splendor from the Craigentinny Flyover in the Pentland Hills.

It started as a question but it very well might be a statement*. Of course the statement and question could be applied to any country/city/town etc. I suppose it all stems from a natural thought process that makes me think: "Scotland, there's something wrong with it/us but I can't quite put my finger on what it might be. I have a few ideas and theories but ..."

Too much or this, not enough of that, too few of them, too many of those? Oh and the weather and the diet, history, religion and dogma and the various other things that drag us down. Then there's the national mood; I wonder what kind of self destructive moodiness that might be? How we see ourselves...how others see us. Nothing new here really. One problem might be that I just can't be bothered with whatever any of it actually is.

Too many muggles and not enough witches and wizards?

*The SNP is just a complete shit show and an embarrassment at the moment. Where are all the sensible people?

Not the Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore.

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door

Only this and nothing more.” - Poe.

Turned out not to be a raven at all, just an errant cat returning, back through the cat flap as if from some dark dimension, following a mysterious and undocumented adventure in the realm of the undead that will forever remain unspoken (until we speak of it).

I for one was certainly startled by this incident, a surprise and a shock, all set within an unexpected series of equally improbable events. And we are not done with them yet.

Near and Far

Nearby, almost at touching distance, we have magnetic tiles spelling out indie band names in the style of a sixth year classroom exercise that never does take place. I'm going with Eye Glue to be the most successful possibly securing a sponsored tent gig at Glastonbury in about 2025. I'll be standing at the back, tapping my feet, proud as a scrambled egg and sipping IPA from a plastic cup. All with a fair wind etc. etc. 

Further away is the town clock complete with two additional crows perched on the back of the rooster that tops the weather vane. The crows come and go, often retreating to their home in the nearby Burger King car park. The rooster, being mainly made of wrought iron remains still even in high winds. It's not a great shot but the best I could manage under dull weathered Sunday afternoon circumstances. 

Bird Buddy Update

The Bird Buddy hasn't stirred up too much interest from the local avian population. It has been competing with three other feeding stations in the garden though plus there's not quite as many wild birds around here as usual, a worrying trend which I hope changes soon. We have had one consistent visitor though, this rather handsome chap, rudely categorized as a European Robin. If that's the case I certainly support his EU rights and I'm glad that the birds have opted out of the whole Brexit farce. They're much too sensible for that sort of thing. I am envious of their skills and feedoms but I don't much fancy living the lifestyle.

The River of Troubled Souls

Or is it the River of Tortured Souls? Or the River of Somewhat Anxious Spirits? The Stream of the Great Unwashed's Consciousness? The Slow Torrent of Political Incompetence that Poisons the World? The River of Feckless Liars? The Huge but Steady Stream of Liquorice Negativity? A Cloudy and Overcast Day in the Nether World?  Always tough to assign a title to some random images you've invested so little of yourself in. It could be a video game title though, or an album.

Not an Endorsement

Are you at an age or time of life when you might just be curious about trying CBD? 

CBD, or Cannabidiol, is one of over 100 different cannabinoids found in the cannabis or hemp plant. Unlike the more well known cannabinoid THC, CBD is not psychoactive and therefore does not cause you to experience a high that is typically associated with cannabis*. Research into CBD is still in early stages, however anecdotal reports have shown positive results and it is being researched as a potential treatment for chronic pain among many other conditions. CBD is extracted from the hemp or cannabis plant using a range of different methods before it is then diluted with a carrier oil to create a CBD oil. It’s also used in a range of other exciting products such as balms, lip balms, edibles and capsules to name a few. The list is only growing as CBD companies find new ways to innovate.

* But you can get it in chocolate bars too.

Camouflage and Concealment

One of the things I liked best about army training in my teenage years was the exercises we did around camouflage and concealment. Face covered in burnt cork, green fatigues on, hiding in the grey dark in long grass or woodland. Feeling invisible and undetected. Then the rush you got, spotting the "enemy" moving nearby. Could they see you? It turns out that cats are really up for this too. 

I Knew I Forgot Something

 Robot Spirit Guide is useful but he's not as smart as he thinks. Well maybe he is. Maybe he's not a he. It's just a robot mouthpiece after all. In the image of the robot god of course. The robot god we made. Who now rules over us. Quietly and wisely. As the program dictates. There can be no deviation from this route. If you believe that you'll believe anything. I believe it. 

South Queensferry Daily Drone Photo

 

The above photo shows the famed SQ VAT-69 distillery in all it's 1960s glory as well as the green spaces that formerly surrounded the site.

It was taken by a Samsung Vesuvius time traveling drone (now available at Amazon, eBay and in selected Aldi stores) for just £99.99. This powerful little machine can be set up to fly back to any period in recent history and take high or low altitude, full colour arial snaps of what ever target/landmark you manage to program in from your own smartphone using the time travel app. Batteries are not included (base model has a clockwork motor and perpetual motion feature). Special "Time Paradox" insurance (recommended) is available at extra cost, price etc. TBA.

The drone contains numerous other "safety" time travel features including a block on the software that prevents retrospective historical assassinations from being carried out. Please don't expect to set up your device to simply head off into the past and crash into the skull of that nasty dictator, politician, high school teacher or disreputable family member you'd like to eliminate. Other less reprehensible "disturbance" options are available, again at extra cost.

The Secret Life of Guttering

The old roof gutters on our house have been removed and renewed. They're grounded now, back on terra firma. I'm now marveling at the tiny eco system that's been living there, high up above us on the edge of the roof line out of sight, thriving undisturbed for years. If left alone who knows what might emerge from the mossy green primal soup? Anyway it's all over now. Another new world destroyed by greed and progress (and routine maintenance).

Happy St Pancake's Day

"St Pancake, seen here in a fashionable purple robe, discusses the finer points of the drop scone during a traditional bake-off ceremony by the Sea of Galilee. Long and multi fingered hands were all the rage back then. This eventually led to the invention of the piano in China and a radical new way of doing addition and subtraction using a number system not based around tens." From the Big Book of Numbers, Scribbles and Graphs.

Primarily a middle eastern delicacy the pancake was invented by the supreme Celtic-Buddhist teacher Stewart McPancake around the time of the Byzantine Pyramids and Darker Ages. Due to constant grain and beef famines in the nether regions Stewart encouraged people to make pancakes from well beaten eggs using whipped up and irritated bananas. As a result everyone was saved. The rats returned to the mountains, there was no solar eclipse or lizard invasion and the rest is proper history. The earthquakes that followed were nothing to do with Stewart either, that's according to his mum Cleopatra. Enjoy your own authentic home baked butterscotch and onion pancakes on this holiest of days, whatever way you can.

Messing With Reality

The power of the editorial airbrush: The "reimagining" of Roald Dahl's books tells you everything about everything that's wrong with er... everything. So that's my opinion, an obvious and predictable point of view from somebody of my generation (but hopefully others). Pelican Books and their informed rewrites can just Foxtrot Oscar, IMHO. Hurry to your nearest charity shop and buy up the originals. It's a sound enough investment.

Strikes me that a few more books are crying out for similar treatment if this is now a thing: the Bible and the Quran being good examples. Swearing your truth on a highly suspect, violent, bigoted and divisive book of made up legend, weird history and primitive religion isn't a great idea. It doesn't hold up. Let's get it edited/censored to neatly fit with the current generation(s) and their own interesting and developed values. Nobody wants to cause offense now do they?

Meanwhile the UK media takes the view that without Nicola Sturgeon the Scottish independence movement will collapse and that Labour will once again reign supreme in the green hills of Caledonia. That's an odd piece of logic and assumption but guess what, the media also tell lies. Sure the SNP is a bit of a shit show right now, full of duffers and idiots promoted beyond their abilities but so it is in every other UK political party. It's always a nervy judgement call on how you might manage to vote for the least worst.

The SNP remain a peculiar beast, in typically Scottish fashion they manage to move both forwards and backwards at the same time as they remain stuck in the vacuum of an evolutionary loop that is inescapable. They just don't have the balls or vision to agitate for their cause.  You can tell that even MI5 don't think they pose any actual danger, when was the last time an SNP MP fell out of a hotel window in India? 

Anyway I'm going to enjoy seeing how many of their gravy train riding MPs pledge their allegiance to sour puss King Charles III and wish him well on his big bucks coronation. OBEs and MBEs all round.

Kit-Kit Kat-Kat

A quick and easy question: What is better, a four finger Kit-Kat or a two finger Kit-Kat?

Answer? I can't say for sure but I've just eaten a four finger one and is was 60% more than reasonably adequate.

Kit-Kats are big in Japan, there they have exotic flavours and colours. We here in the west struggle with that sort of thing according to the marketing people, mainly because of our tendencies towards serial dullness, so we miss out.