I saw in the news the other day that a former russian spy, called Litvinenko, was poisoned and seriously ill in hospital.
The folks at work joked and ribbed me about the fact that I was most probably going to announce that it was "yet another" one of my conspiracies.
Here are a couple of links to news stories after he died late last week.
http://www.indianexpress.com/story/17403.html
http://www.time.com/time/europe/magazine/article/0,13005,901061204-1562917-2,00.html
http://thechronicleherald.ca/AtHome/543335.html
He died after being given the substance, polonium 210, which “is not the kind of weapon that any kind of amateur could construct,” acording to Dr Andrea Sella, a lecturer in inorganic chemistry at London’s University College.
"Polonium 208 and 209 occur naturally in trace quantities in certain minerals -- they are the daughter products of the decay of uranium," said Dr Andrea Sella. However "Polonium 210 is synthetic and small amounts are made every year in specialist laboratories," he added.
For my part, I did not know of Litvinenko or his work, yet this does not stop me from asking the question, Why was someone murdered by being given a lethal dose of such an obscure and clearly non-organic poison?
It is complete lunacy to suggest that this was a random act, for merely obtaining the substace would require specific knowledge and privaledged access, with no doubt a large bankroll needed to finance the purchase said poison.
This is clealy not an accident, not the work of a lone assasin hell bent on revenge, fame or fortune. It must have been carefully planned and carried out, for it to be able to get past the guard of a ex-spy still in the prime of his life and very much active in the pursuit of his own private investigations.
Whatever the deepest motive may be, the simple truth is that he was murdered in a cold and calculated manner by a group of individuals, and thus this a conspiracy.
It shows that his murderers are still out there and plotting their next move, as this is unlikely to be their first or last act of illegal and immoral criminal intent.
It also shows me, with my work colleagues as a varied cross section of the general public, that sadly apart from being entertained by the media, the general public neither knows nor cares about anything except their own individual lives.
No one has been talking about this at work, yet you cannot get them to stop talking about the latest "bush tucker trials" from last nights "I'm a celebrity ..." tv show.
The whole thing makes me sick ... not the show, but the ignorant and uniformed apathy from those around me.
Thankfully, there have always been champions willing to step up and fight those who abuse their power and position.
However having tried and failed to even explain to the general public why this is necessary, and having been ridiculed by the very same people I am trying to help, it really does make me stop and think "if this is how they treat their champions, are they even worth protecting anymore?".
November 27, 2006
November 26, 2006
A Long Couple of Weeks
Its been a long couple of weeks for me, and with Christmas fast
approaching then I can honestly say that things are not going to get
any quieter any time soon.
approaching then I can honestly say that things are not going to get
any quieter any time soon.
For me, the last few days have been a case of "when I have the time to
write then I have nothing to write about, but if I have something to
write about I'm too busy doing it to find the time to write".
I have got a few things that I really want to write about, but they
cant really be fitted neatly into one blog entry, and if i tried to
keep them short enough for one entry then I doubt that I do them any
justice at all.
However, I feel that I have to try or else admit that my dream job of
a travel writer is no more than that, a dream, so here I go.
Last weekend I was invited to a work colleagues 40th birthday party in
Essex. Despite being the furthest away geographically from her house
or the party venue, I was the ONLY person from work who attended.
This fact did not surprise me, as not only is she notoriously known
for not attending the parties of anyone else, but neither is she the
most liked of all the staff's directors.
However what did surprise me is that a) she invited lots of others
even though she knew they would never come; b) the people she invited
said that they would come even though we all knew they would let her
down at the last minute; c) she got upset over how few actually turned
up on the night; and d) that not one member of staff ( other than
myself ) though of actually trying to break the mutual deadlock.
Everyone is running the same sort of mental program "well she didn't
turn up to mine so I won't turn up to hers" - the ideal of turning the
other cheek or trying to reach out with an olive branch never seems to
even enter their heads.
Despite the fact that it took me a lot of time and money for me to get
all the way over to Essex, for only a couple of hours actual partying
then having to spend the night in a nearby Premier Travel-Inn, I was
glad that I went.
Firstly, it I always try to open myself out to new experiences, and as
she had invited her entire Salsa dance class ( including teachers )
this promised to be much more than your ordinary 40th party.
Secondly, with great free food and drink, of enough different
varieties to please any palate, it was certainly not a party where it
would be hard to stuff yourself if you were hungry or bored at any
time.
Thirdly, about two/thirds of the way through, her dance teacher
decided to try and get everyone up and dancing by holding an impromptu
Salsa lesson. Having only had a few drinks, I was not too far gone to
be able to form part of the circle and having no partner with me, I
ended up dancing with none other than the birthday girl herself.
Salsa may look simple to start with, and if I could leisurely study it
privately I am sure that I would pick up the basics soon enough, but
with the dark disco lights and part way through a birthday part, well
... I was not in danger of winning any "Come Dancing" trophies that
night.
Towards the end of night I decided that I would not stay to be the
very last out the door and went to fetch my coat, only to then be
faced with this darling little girl called Aisha guarding the coats
and carrying her pale blue teddy bear under one arm.
Before I could explain why I was going and allowed to take my own coat
to this most unlikely of monitors, her mother came up and started
chatting with me.
Which very soon became chatting me up. The lady in question was the
girls mother and an old school friend of the birthday girl.
She was quite taken with my laid back manner and after admitting that
I was waiting for my girlfriend to come here from the Caribbean she
said that she was quite disappointed with the modern English girls if
"available and pleasant" English men feel that they need to look
abroad for future partners.
After an hours natter I politely extricated myself with the minimum of
fuss and made my way into the night, towards where a warm bed
beckoned.
The following morning I overslept just a fraction, but was early
enough to learn a valuable lesson. Travel-Inn's have a policy of 100%
refund if you are not completely happy with your nights sleep, but I
never knew how easy it was to claim it and get a full refund.
While I was waiting to go, a guy came up to reception and mentioned
that during the last night the people in the room above started a
party at 2am and woke him and his entire family up.
When quizzed as to why he did not try to contact the night porter, who
could have sorted it out, he rather off hand that, "well i got my kids
asleep see, didnt want to leave them on their own".
And with no more than that they then offered to give him a full refund
and in cash, then let him leave. I could not believe that it was that
easy, or that his reason was so transparently a lie yet they did
nothing to argue the case.
I guess this is just another case of upper management having no touch
with reality, and political correctness taken that one stage too far
... again.
Oh well, despite not liking the look of the guy, as he was doing his
own bit to bring strike a blow against the corporate machine, I could
only smile, look on, and plan to spent my next hotel visit in another
Travel Inn hotel, this time perhaps not costing as much as my last one
had.
November 17, 2006
The Uninvited Guest
I have to share about the tale about what happened to me the other night.
On a perfectly ordinary November evening I left work as normal and walked to Victoria, making my way home.
I caught my usual train, sat together with the same familiar faces, and then disembarked at the same place I always did, along with my fellow London commuters.
The slow plod through the high street was as lacking in anything interesting as darkened hour long train journey I had just took had been, and not even the fox who lives in the wasteland at the end of my road made an appearance to mark today as being anything other than yet another bland Wednesday in the year 2006.
With a gentle sigh, I slipped the keys out of my pocket and began to fumble them into the front door, when without a sound it quickly slid its way open.
"Shhhhhh" came a hushed voice of my lodger from within, and with my curiosity peaked, I did as he suggested and very gingerly stepped inside, removing my thick woolen coat with more care than normal.
"We've got a visitor upstairs" he barely breathed, quieter than I've ever known him to be", and I don't want to disturb it".
For a second I thought that it was his baby girl who was asleep upstairs, before I realised that the day was all wrong and also he would never refer to her as an "it", thus it must be someone, or something, else.
At that point I began to get a slight stirring of the hairs on the back on my head, as straining in the dim light of my front room I could indeed hear something coming from up above.
"What is it?", I whispered, then realised all at once that I was nowhere near as proficient as he was at it, and determined to make an even greater effort to be quieter the next time I chose to spoke.
A tight lipped frown and a shrug of his shoulders was all that he gave in reply, but his message was clear. He didn't know.
Leigh and I had been childhood friends, and always been there as friends, right up through the years and all that it had thrown at us.
I had never known him to be scared or anything except his own cursed luck or intermittent poor health, but often growing up, we had sleepovers where we used to have semi-silent conversations while his parents slept in the next room.
And just like then, it was always me that had made the most noise and got us in trouble!
As we both stood in silence, I took time out to look at him and while he didn't seem to strike me as being scared right at this point, the fact that he wasn't tromping about in his large military ex-issue combat boots meant that something clearly was getting to him.
Slipping off my own shoes I decided to break the tableau and as quietly as I could crept nearer to the middle room, and thus to the foot of the staircase leading up.
From my new position I could now hear more of the feint sounds, though their source and meaning was still a mystery.
I would probably have stood there for an eternity without ever braving to go further, if it hadn't occurred to me that whatever was causing the noises was uninvited and also in my bedroom.
Even if I could have somehow managed to get to sleep curled up on the sofa, I would have needed to get into my room the next morning to get a fresh set of clothes for work.
But not only that, but as my bedroom door was not locked there was no reason to think that whatever it was would not simply come out whenever it felt like it, and this way, at least I got to face it on my terms.
But before I did, I wanted get just a little more information.
Turning back to Leigh I chose to speak again, this time in a whisper so soft that I doubt it would have disturbed the flight of even the small feather.
"How long has it been up there?"
"A couple of hours."
"Do you have any idea what its doing?"
"I sounds like its eating your carpet!"
"Ridiculous", I spoke, just a shade louder than I wanted.
"Shhhhhh" came the only reply with a face like thunder.
"Well how did it get in?", I managed, this time somewhere like as
quiet as before.
"I left the window open to let some fresh air in."
"So, how did it get up there in the first place?"
"It flew"
"It flew, preposterous" I cried, making possibly the loudest sound
that I had heard since before I got my keys out of my pocket and
attempted entry.
"Will .. you .. be .. quiet", his eyes glared at me, the meaning clear
even though I swear I never saw his lips moved.
"I'm not just going to just stand by idly while some uninvited critter comes and feeds his appetite with my carpet", I said with only a trace of effort in keeping my voice down. "I'm gonna tell that, what-ever-it-is, that my house isn't a free McDonalds for every hungry bugger with a taste for something in the blue and carpet range. I paid good money to get it underlaid"
He gave me a look of resigned defeat mixed with, its-your-funeral, and headed off silently into the back room and away from the stairs.
Thankfully my house is carpeted throughout, so I knew that if I remained quiet I could probably creep up the stairs and at least glance a peek under the door, before deciding if I really was going to be as brave or foolhardy, as I had made myself appear.
In careful, time practised pace, I proceeded up the stairs until finally I was within eye shot of the base of the door.
Because I have got multiple wires criss crossing my house, I have always found it advantageous to have larger than average gaps at the bottom of my doors, but now I was putting this gap to a new use.
Glimpsing beneath the door, I could see a form, sitting hunched over, and looking for all the world to see, like something out of the Wizard of Oz.
Sleek blue fur glistened in the half light, as the miniature beast that seemed to be of a close but different chain of evolution from our own, huddled up and continued to slowly chomp handfuls of carpet fragments.
Mounted midway on its back, I could see the things impossibly thin outstretched set of double winged appendages.
That's right, I could hardly believe my eyes, but what I was looking at was nothing short of a blue furry winged monkey, eating my carpet.
And I know that you wont believe me, but never-the-less it remained there, stationery and chewing, long enough for me to take out my camera phone and take a few shots.
So before you cast judgement on me, see for yourself and see if you too don't come to the same conclusion as I did!
On a perfectly ordinary November evening I left work as normal and walked to Victoria, making my way home.
I caught my usual train, sat together with the same familiar faces, and then disembarked at the same place I always did, along with my fellow London commuters.
The slow plod through the high street was as lacking in anything interesting as darkened hour long train journey I had just took had been, and not even the fox who lives in the wasteland at the end of my road made an appearance to mark today as being anything other than yet another bland Wednesday in the year 2006.
With a gentle sigh, I slipped the keys out of my pocket and began to fumble them into the front door, when without a sound it quickly slid its way open.
"Shhhhhh" came a hushed voice of my lodger from within, and with my curiosity peaked, I did as he suggested and very gingerly stepped inside, removing my thick woolen coat with more care than normal.
"We've got a visitor upstairs" he barely breathed, quieter than I've ever known him to be", and I don't want to disturb it".
For a second I thought that it was his baby girl who was asleep upstairs, before I realised that the day was all wrong and also he would never refer to her as an "it", thus it must be someone, or something, else.
At that point I began to get a slight stirring of the hairs on the back on my head, as straining in the dim light of my front room I could indeed hear something coming from up above.
"What is it?", I whispered, then realised all at once that I was nowhere near as proficient as he was at it, and determined to make an even greater effort to be quieter the next time I chose to spoke.
A tight lipped frown and a shrug of his shoulders was all that he gave in reply, but his message was clear. He didn't know.
Leigh and I had been childhood friends, and always been there as friends, right up through the years and all that it had thrown at us.
I had never known him to be scared or anything except his own cursed luck or intermittent poor health, but often growing up, we had sleepovers where we used to have semi-silent conversations while his parents slept in the next room.
And just like then, it was always me that had made the most noise and got us in trouble!
As we both stood in silence, I took time out to look at him and while he didn't seem to strike me as being scared right at this point, the fact that he wasn't tromping about in his large military ex-issue combat boots meant that something clearly was getting to him.
Slipping off my own shoes I decided to break the tableau and as quietly as I could crept nearer to the middle room, and thus to the foot of the staircase leading up.
From my new position I could now hear more of the feint sounds, though their source and meaning was still a mystery.
I would probably have stood there for an eternity without ever braving to go further, if it hadn't occurred to me that whatever was causing the noises was uninvited and also in my bedroom.
Even if I could have somehow managed to get to sleep curled up on the sofa, I would have needed to get into my room the next morning to get a fresh set of clothes for work.
But not only that, but as my bedroom door was not locked there was no reason to think that whatever it was would not simply come out whenever it felt like it, and this way, at least I got to face it on my terms.
But before I did, I wanted get just a little more information.
Turning back to Leigh I chose to speak again, this time in a whisper so soft that I doubt it would have disturbed the flight of even the small feather.
"How long has it been up there?"
"A couple of hours."
"Do you have any idea what its doing?"
"I sounds like its eating your carpet!"
"Ridiculous", I spoke, just a shade louder than I wanted.
"Shhhhhh" came the only reply with a face like thunder.
"Well how did it get in?", I managed, this time somewhere like as
quiet as before.
"I left the window open to let some fresh air in."
"So, how did it get up there in the first place?"
"It flew"
"It flew, preposterous" I cried, making possibly the loudest sound
that I had heard since before I got my keys out of my pocket and
attempted entry.
"Will .. you .. be .. quiet", his eyes glared at me, the meaning clear
even though I swear I never saw his lips moved.
"I'm not just going to just stand by idly while some uninvited critter comes and feeds his appetite with my carpet", I said with only a trace of effort in keeping my voice down. "I'm gonna tell that, what-ever-it-is, that my house isn't a free McDonalds for every hungry bugger with a taste for something in the blue and carpet range. I paid good money to get it underlaid"
He gave me a look of resigned defeat mixed with, its-your-funeral, and headed off silently into the back room and away from the stairs.
Thankfully my house is carpeted throughout, so I knew that if I remained quiet I could probably creep up the stairs and at least glance a peek under the door, before deciding if I really was going to be as brave or foolhardy, as I had made myself appear.
In careful, time practised pace, I proceeded up the stairs until finally I was within eye shot of the base of the door.
Because I have got multiple wires criss crossing my house, I have always found it advantageous to have larger than average gaps at the bottom of my doors, but now I was putting this gap to a new use.
Glimpsing beneath the door, I could see a form, sitting hunched over, and looking for all the world to see, like something out of the Wizard of Oz.
Sleek blue fur glistened in the half light, as the miniature beast that seemed to be of a close but different chain of evolution from our own, huddled up and continued to slowly chomp handfuls of carpet fragments.
Mounted midway on its back, I could see the things impossibly thin outstretched set of double winged appendages.
That's right, I could hardly believe my eyes, but what I was looking at was nothing short of a blue furry winged monkey, eating my carpet.
And I know that you wont believe me, but never-the-less it remained there, stationery and chewing, long enough for me to take out my camera phone and take a few shots.
So before you cast judgement on me, see for yourself and see if you too don't come to the same conclusion as I did!
Letter to Boiler Repair Man
Friday 17th November 2006
Mr Robinson
With regards to the repair of the leak on my Alpha Ocean 240 Combi
boiler, I hereby include a cheque in full and final settlement for
£75.
When we initially spoke on the phone I gave you details of my boiler,
the nature of the leak and requested you come round to view it and
provide me a free estimate. Shortly after you visited my house I
contacted you again and you said that it was about "2 hours work,
required several washers and some other parts" and quoted £125 plus
VAT.
Realising that this seemed high for what to me seemed such a small
leak and minor fault, I requested that you also perform a service, to
which you agreed."
Seeing as the parts used were readily available from any plumbers
merchants or hardware store, I have guestimated that you were charging
£25 maximum for parts and £50 for each hours labour.
So I was more than a little upset to learn that you have only spend
around 20 minutes to change the one washer and then leave.
How on earth could a Corgi certified plumber , such as yourself,
having already been made aware of the problem and seen the fault
personally, make such a huge overestimate of time and resources?
What made matters worse is that you displayed little or no care when
moving about in my house, having been witnessed by my lodger treading
dirt into my front room carpet, but more seriously bashing my bead
curtain with your toolbox and managing to break off several of the
strands. As I have myself managed to move entire wardrobes and even
mattresses up and down my flight of stairs with relative ease, I find
it unacceptable that you could not traverse through an open doorway
without causing this damage.
Having already given the boiler a general inspection myself, and
having it second opinioned by a friend who is a plumber / electrician,
I can see no signs what-so-ever of you making any attempt to give any
other part of the boiler even a quick once over, let alone a complete
service.
If you had given it a once over then certainly you would have no doubt
disturbed the thick dust that is on most of the boiler! Also you would
have spotted that some of the other washers are also on there way out
as I feel it would have been prudent to either replace, or at least
mention this, on your invoice.
What you have actually done, is nothing short of attempting to
seriously short change me, by charging me 2 hours work when all you
did was change a single washer, that took you no more than 10 minutes.
Your website advertising a free call out, but even if you include that
and the time to travel from Chatham and back it still does not come
close to 2 hours time or effort.
As such I still feel highly overcharged in agreeing to pay a single
hours time, plus some towards the one washer, but will do so in an
attempt to settle this amicably. I have not at this time deducted the
price of getting my carpets cleaned or in replacing the broken bead
curtain, but if you should seek additional funds then I will be forced
to do so as well as getting an independent mediator.
Regards
Mr Robinson
With regards to the repair of the leak on my Alpha Ocean 240 Combi
boiler, I hereby include a cheque in full and final settlement for
£75.
When we initially spoke on the phone I gave you details of my boiler,
the nature of the leak and requested you come round to view it and
provide me a free estimate. Shortly after you visited my house I
contacted you again and you said that it was about "2 hours work,
required several washers and some other parts" and quoted £125 plus
VAT.
Realising that this seemed high for what to me seemed such a small
leak and minor fault, I requested that you also perform a service, to
which you agreed."
Seeing as the parts used were readily available from any plumbers
merchants or hardware store, I have guestimated that you were charging
£25 maximum for parts and £50 for each hours labour.
So I was more than a little upset to learn that you have only spend
around 20 minutes to change the one washer and then leave.
How on earth could a Corgi certified plumber , such as yourself,
having already been made aware of the problem and seen the fault
personally, make such a huge overestimate of time and resources?
What made matters worse is that you displayed little or no care when
moving about in my house, having been witnessed by my lodger treading
dirt into my front room carpet, but more seriously bashing my bead
curtain with your toolbox and managing to break off several of the
strands. As I have myself managed to move entire wardrobes and even
mattresses up and down my flight of stairs with relative ease, I find
it unacceptable that you could not traverse through an open doorway
without causing this damage.
Having already given the boiler a general inspection myself, and
having it second opinioned by a friend who is a plumber / electrician,
I can see no signs what-so-ever of you making any attempt to give any
other part of the boiler even a quick once over, let alone a complete
service.
If you had given it a once over then certainly you would have no doubt
disturbed the thick dust that is on most of the boiler! Also you would
have spotted that some of the other washers are also on there way out
as I feel it would have been prudent to either replace, or at least
mention this, on your invoice.
What you have actually done, is nothing short of attempting to
seriously short change me, by charging me 2 hours work when all you
did was change a single washer, that took you no more than 10 minutes.
Your website advertising a free call out, but even if you include that
and the time to travel from Chatham and back it still does not come
close to 2 hours time or effort.
As such I still feel highly overcharged in agreeing to pay a single
hours time, plus some towards the one washer, but will do so in an
attempt to settle this amicably. I have not at this time deducted the
price of getting my carpets cleaned or in replacing the broken bead
curtain, but if you should seek additional funds then I will be forced
to do so as well as getting an independent mediator.
Regards
November 16, 2006
Rotten Banks
On the same day that I wanted to write a sentimental entry about continued climate change and yet another 8 plus earthquake I had something far less serious, but much more personally annoying happen to me, and thus has soaked up most of my recent attention and free time.
Banks
Not only have FD wiped my password vault but they are now going to do away with free banking and charge £10 per month just for having an account. Not a chance so this is one account I have to cancel.
Woolwich in their 'infinite wisdom' are trying to repeatedly charge me £35 for missing payments to my credit cards, purely because they take forever to clear cheques.
I've phoned and even visited my bank and all they give me is the "it's your official obligation to... blah, blah, blah" spiel - so that's the end of my working relationship with those guys too.
My credit cards are all getting very upset because Woolwich are bouncing their direct debit requests, so they are charging me also for missed payment AND because it's not their fault I can't even complain to them and try to get this back. Plus this only harms my credit rating for further borrowing or remortgaging in the future.
My former friends are still unwilling ( able and ready, just not willing ) to return the money that I have lend them, which if I combine it all together runs into the several thousand pounds.
Before you say or think anything, No I don't have any proof cos they were friends, Yes I was naive to trust friends with money, No I didn't have the money to lend them in the first place, Yes I am having to pay interest to the people I borrowed it from, No I won't ever be lending people money again, and Yes I have told several friends to cut up my credit cards and hit me round the head with a large solid piece of wood if I mention that I am thinking of lending, or have just lent, anyone money in future.
I have always ensured that my house was safe before I lent money out but these latest turns of events have meant that I am no longer comfortable and content with my finances and if I do not take preventative measures things will become decidedly uncomfortable in the not too distant future.
November 15, 2006
i29 Multiplay Computer Convention
For those who have never been to one before, i29 (I for Intel, the main sponsors, and this being the 29th convention) was yet another successful Multiplay computer convention.
But when I say computer convention, I want you to understand that his was not a large group of solely male teenage nerds meeting up in their chequered shirts and brown corduroys, all drinking Dr Pepper and arguing over who has the fastest motherboard.
This was a semi-organised hoard of several hundred computer gamers, geeks, salesman and spouses / other halves, ranging from ages 12 to 60 and from every social spectrum you care to name.
There were a few stalls selling the latest gadgets and boards for those with more money than sense, but these were not being run by bored techno-geeks who would bamboozle you with jargon, oh no … these were run by two very fine and very busty babes wearing nothing more than makeup, a white crop top and the tightest pair of hot pants sold on the planet.
For entertainment there were the life size tank and armoured jeep displays to advertise Battlefield 2142, a supped-up Toyota sports car to display Need For Speed, a four way dance-mat competition, plus karaoke, guitar legends 2, pub quiz, drinking boat race and a raffle with over 100 prizes (one free ticket with every entrance ticket) who's top prize was a brand new laptop.
And not to mention a couple of sex young babes walking about wearing white crop tops and hot pants … oh I’ve mentioned them already, silly me.
Spread over the three main floors of Newbury Racecourses main building and spilling over into the Tote betting bar, there was always somewhere to get booze. For those who liked hot food there was a choice of fast food meat wagons set up for the masses, or for those who felt like being REALLY lazy, you could always order a Dominoes Pizza from the on-site van and have it delivered right to your computer station!
The fact that the sleeping accommodation was a bring-your-own-tent kind of affair, this did nothing to dampen the spirits of those who turned up. Thankfully I was with my good friends Rob & Natalie who being old hacks at these events came with a tent the size of a small bungalow and enough sleeping gear to bury a family of polar bears. Which was a good idea as the temperature did indeed drop below zero on the first night we were there.
For more details on the actual event, and for photos, you can always go to the link below which is from the Multiplay official website.
Multiplay
For me, it was a great experience that I am very glad I participated in, and having seen it from a few sides now, firmly believe that at any large event such as this, you get as much out as you are prepared to put into it, and those who turn up and think they are above all the high jinks and drunken merriment will only be short changing themselves.
I must admit that due to the fact I am not a big drinker, and was already short of sleep, meant that I no doubt missed out of a lot of hours of happy drunken socialising.
For me there were many moments that I hope to never forget, but here are a few of the ones I really want to share.
Helping my friends put up a large tent in the dark and the pouring rain. I don’t know what it is, but to know that we were all pulling as a team to get the tent up and get dry quicker, brought us that tiny bit closer together.
Realising that Rob had not had time to check his computer before we left and once we did get there he found out that it needed a bit of minor computer surgery to get it to come back to life.
Watching the stack-a-pig contestants try to build the tallest tower of pink you pigs.
Watching my friend Natalie become the first person to officially propose marriage to her fianc̩ Rob live on air, whilst at a computer convention Рright before the start of the pub quiz.
Having come second in the pub quiz and then gone on stage to collect a cup full of coins as the prize, to then without discussing it out loud, to all as one suddenly chase our quiz team leader around the sage with calls of “mine, mine, mine”, paying homage to the seagulls from the animated hit movie Finding Nemo.
After witnessing the ease at which some people got mega high scores on both ‘guitar legends 2’ and the dance mat game, all sitting in a group getting steadily drunk wondering how hard it would be to design a three in one game that required dance mat coordination, guitar strumming ability and a songster karaoke performance.
All deciding that we could suffer no more pizza for awhile, so instead got a large group together and made up an order for the local Chinese takeaway that ran into multiple pages.
Witnessing the final of the Quake 4 tournament where the number 2 seed got his ass handed to him on a plate royally by the number 1 seed, with a victory points margin that was more like a cricket score than a football match.
And last, but not least, the fact that everyone went around calling each other by their online user names, which was surprisingly not confusing at all, though slightly amusing to me as the convention was being run by a guy called Whizzo, whose brother RedEye was a joint commentator / announcer with yet another guy who called himself TosspoT.
Oh, and although I myself found it slightly annoying after the first few hours, almost everyone else had purchased or borrowed a large inflatable hammer and found it hysterical to have hammer fights anywhere, with anyone and for any reason.
All in all, it was a very enjoyable, if slightly cold and expensive, weekend where you could have just as much fun in the bar chatting with friends as you could have at your computer station shooting the hell out of other fellow gamers.
But when I say computer convention, I want you to understand that his was not a large group of solely male teenage nerds meeting up in their chequered shirts and brown corduroys, all drinking Dr Pepper and arguing over who has the fastest motherboard.
This was a semi-organised hoard of several hundred computer gamers, geeks, salesman and spouses / other halves, ranging from ages 12 to 60 and from every social spectrum you care to name.
There were a few stalls selling the latest gadgets and boards for those with more money than sense, but these were not being run by bored techno-geeks who would bamboozle you with jargon, oh no … these were run by two very fine and very busty babes wearing nothing more than makeup, a white crop top and the tightest pair of hot pants sold on the planet.
For entertainment there were the life size tank and armoured jeep displays to advertise Battlefield 2142, a supped-up Toyota sports car to display Need For Speed, a four way dance-mat competition, plus karaoke, guitar legends 2, pub quiz, drinking boat race and a raffle with over 100 prizes (one free ticket with every entrance ticket) who's top prize was a brand new laptop.
And not to mention a couple of sex young babes walking about wearing white crop tops and hot pants … oh I’ve mentioned them already, silly me.
Spread over the three main floors of Newbury Racecourses main building and spilling over into the Tote betting bar, there was always somewhere to get booze. For those who liked hot food there was a choice of fast food meat wagons set up for the masses, or for those who felt like being REALLY lazy, you could always order a Dominoes Pizza from the on-site van and have it delivered right to your computer station!
The fact that the sleeping accommodation was a bring-your-own-tent kind of affair, this did nothing to dampen the spirits of those who turned up. Thankfully I was with my good friends Rob & Natalie who being old hacks at these events came with a tent the size of a small bungalow and enough sleeping gear to bury a family of polar bears. Which was a good idea as the temperature did indeed drop below zero on the first night we were there.
For more details on the actual event, and for photos, you can always go to the link below which is from the Multiplay official website.
Multiplay
For me, it was a great experience that I am very glad I participated in, and having seen it from a few sides now, firmly believe that at any large event such as this, you get as much out as you are prepared to put into it, and those who turn up and think they are above all the high jinks and drunken merriment will only be short changing themselves.
I must admit that due to the fact I am not a big drinker, and was already short of sleep, meant that I no doubt missed out of a lot of hours of happy drunken socialising.
For me there were many moments that I hope to never forget, but here are a few of the ones I really want to share.
Helping my friends put up a large tent in the dark and the pouring rain. I don’t know what it is, but to know that we were all pulling as a team to get the tent up and get dry quicker, brought us that tiny bit closer together.
Realising that Rob had not had time to check his computer before we left and once we did get there he found out that it needed a bit of minor computer surgery to get it to come back to life.
Watching the stack-a-pig contestants try to build the tallest tower of pink you pigs.
Watching my friend Natalie become the first person to officially propose marriage to her fianc̩ Rob live on air, whilst at a computer convention Рright before the start of the pub quiz.
Having come second in the pub quiz and then gone on stage to collect a cup full of coins as the prize, to then without discussing it out loud, to all as one suddenly chase our quiz team leader around the sage with calls of “mine, mine, mine”, paying homage to the seagulls from the animated hit movie Finding Nemo.
After witnessing the ease at which some people got mega high scores on both ‘guitar legends 2’ and the dance mat game, all sitting in a group getting steadily drunk wondering how hard it would be to design a three in one game that required dance mat coordination, guitar strumming ability and a songster karaoke performance.
All deciding that we could suffer no more pizza for awhile, so instead got a large group together and made up an order for the local Chinese takeaway that ran into multiple pages.
Witnessing the final of the Quake 4 tournament where the number 2 seed got his ass handed to him on a plate royally by the number 1 seed, with a victory points margin that was more like a cricket score than a football match.
And last, but not least, the fact that everyone went around calling each other by their online user names, which was surprisingly not confusing at all, though slightly amusing to me as the convention was being run by a guy called Whizzo, whose brother RedEye was a joint commentator / announcer with yet another guy who called himself TosspoT.
Oh, and although I myself found it slightly annoying after the first few hours, almost everyone else had purchased or borrowed a large inflatable hammer and found it hysterical to have hammer fights anywhere, with anyone and for any reason.
All in all, it was a very enjoyable, if slightly cold and expensive, weekend where you could have just as much fun in the bar chatting with friends as you could have at your computer station shooting the hell out of other fellow gamers.
November 10, 2006
A Mortgage is for Life
It would seem to appear, if the latest newspaper headlines are not all completely the works of fiction, that the brains behind the UK's finance and banking world have finally lost the communal plot and began to lead us down to what I can only see as financial suicide.
Here are two links to support my point :-
Money Week
Telegraph
The current train of logic of these boffins is that the price of housing in the UK has reached a point so high that first time buyers cannot afford to purchase one.
So, instead of concentrating their efforts to :-
Increasing the earnings of the average person;
Reducing the price of housing;
Building more affordable housing;
Reducing the amount of associated house purchasing costs;
Or reducing the interest rate { they have actually increased it for other reasons apparently }
... they have decided that the best choice of action is to increase the amount of years that you can chose to repay your mortgage over. { Wow, nice choice, that's exactly what I would have done ... NOT. }
To give an example, it is now technically possible for an 18 year to take out a mortgage over a massive 52 years and end up repaying almost 6 times what he initially borrowed, with his final repayment just before he starts to claim their pension { for, no doubt, it will have been raised to at least 70 by that time }.
Also they have increased the amount of times your salary that you can borrow to enable you to purchase more expensive houses than ever before.
And finally, they have actually started giving more than 100% mortgages, which means that they will allow people to purchase a property and instantly be in negative equity, instead of needing to come up with any deposit or down payment.
In real terms this means that instead where before a persons situation was :-
Income = £20,000 / Mortgage Allowed 3.25 x salary = £65,000 Borrowed / 5% Deposit = £3,250 / Property Value £ 68,250 / Equity Upon Purchase = £3,250 / Repayable over 25 Years at £227.50 per month ( plus interest ) ... Total paid after interest of almost £117,000
You now get something that is more like ...
Income = £20,000 / Mortgage Allowed 5.05 x salary = £101,000 Borrowed / -5% Deposit = £5,050 / Property Value £106,050 / Negative Equity Upon Purchase = £5,050 / Repayable over 40 years at £220.90 per month ( plus interest ) ... Total paid after interest of almost £286,350
So although the monthly repayments are slightly less and they can purchase a house of a slightly more value, the same person who would only pay £117,000 now will end up paying £286,000 for more of less the same kind of property AND they will be locked into paying this probably right up until their 70th birthday.
Plus if the property market was ever to fall the person would, instead have a little equity in the house to fall back on, find themselves completely shafted and have literally less than nothing to show for it.
Need I say that I feel all this is a bad idea and can only hasten the next financial crash in the UK economy? No, I probably don't !!!
My REAL concern, is that I doubt these financial boffins have ever tried talking to a teenager recently. With their chavisms and "not bova'd" attitude towards any of their civic duties and responsibilities, it is only matter of time before these unruly children suddenly face the cold hard reality of the real world and are completely unable to cope or meet repayments.
And who could blame them? For the last few years they have been granted far too much free will and lost most of their moral values and discipline along the way, and yet these money maestros expect them to understand the implications of a contract that won't expire in less than twice their current years alive !?!
If they can't seem to grasp why 'happy slapping', 'teenage pregnancies' or addictions like smoking, drinking or recreational drugs, are bad ideas, then how can they comprehend documents that are so crammed with technical jargon and small print that it takes a dedicated lawyer { who had to spend many years studying in order to become qualified } many hours over several weeks to complete.
The short answer ... they can't, they won't and when those who are making the decisions realise this it will be far too late to remedy this colossal error in judgement.
Here are two links to support my point :-
Money Week
Telegraph
The current train of logic of these boffins is that the price of housing in the UK has reached a point so high that first time buyers cannot afford to purchase one.
So, instead of concentrating their efforts to :-
Increasing the earnings of the average person;
Reducing the price of housing;
Building more affordable housing;
Reducing the amount of associated house purchasing costs;
Or reducing the interest rate { they have actually increased it for other reasons apparently }
... they have decided that the best choice of action is to increase the amount of years that you can chose to repay your mortgage over. { Wow, nice choice, that's exactly what I would have done ... NOT. }
To give an example, it is now technically possible for an 18 year to take out a mortgage over a massive 52 years and end up repaying almost 6 times what he initially borrowed, with his final repayment just before he starts to claim their pension { for, no doubt, it will have been raised to at least 70 by that time }.
Also they have increased the amount of times your salary that you can borrow to enable you to purchase more expensive houses than ever before.
And finally, they have actually started giving more than 100% mortgages, which means that they will allow people to purchase a property and instantly be in negative equity, instead of needing to come up with any deposit or down payment.
In real terms this means that instead where before a persons situation was :-
Income = £20,000 / Mortgage Allowed 3.25 x salary = £65,000 Borrowed / 5% Deposit = £3,250 / Property Value £ 68,250 / Equity Upon Purchase = £3,250 / Repayable over 25 Years at £227.50 per month ( plus interest ) ... Total paid after interest of almost £117,000
You now get something that is more like ...
Income = £20,000 / Mortgage Allowed 5.05 x salary = £101,000 Borrowed / -5% Deposit = £5,050 / Property Value £106,050 / Negative Equity Upon Purchase = £5,050 / Repayable over 40 years at £220.90 per month ( plus interest ) ... Total paid after interest of almost £286,350
So although the monthly repayments are slightly less and they can purchase a house of a slightly more value, the same person who would only pay £117,000 now will end up paying £286,000 for more of less the same kind of property AND they will be locked into paying this probably right up until their 70th birthday.
Plus if the property market was ever to fall the person would, instead have a little equity in the house to fall back on, find themselves completely shafted and have literally less than nothing to show for it.
Need I say that I feel all this is a bad idea and can only hasten the next financial crash in the UK economy? No, I probably don't !!!
My REAL concern, is that I doubt these financial boffins have ever tried talking to a teenager recently. With their chavisms and "not bova'd" attitude towards any of their civic duties and responsibilities, it is only matter of time before these unruly children suddenly face the cold hard reality of the real world and are completely unable to cope or meet repayments.
And who could blame them? For the last few years they have been granted far too much free will and lost most of their moral values and discipline along the way, and yet these money maestros expect them to understand the implications of a contract that won't expire in less than twice their current years alive !?!
If they can't seem to grasp why 'happy slapping', 'teenage pregnancies' or addictions like smoking, drinking or recreational drugs, are bad ideas, then how can they comprehend documents that are so crammed with technical jargon and small print that it takes a dedicated lawyer { who had to spend many years studying in order to become qualified } many hours over several weeks to complete.
The short answer ... they can't, they won't and when those who are making the decisions realise this it will be far too late to remedy this colossal error in judgement.
November 09, 2006
Penfriends
Trying to find and maintain a good international e-friendship is a lot harder than it seems.
First you have to decide if you care how old they are and which specific country they come from, or else you get literally hundreds of men begging for handouts and women offering marriage proposals.
{ Sadly most of these are from the poor African and Pacific Island nations, which does nothing to gain our trust or dispell our often mistaken media-created low perception of them. }
Then you have to wade through the many profile that are mostly :-
i) too brief as to give no clue to their personality;
ii) too much that you already feel that you know and dislike the person;
iii) men clearly seeking romance instead of friendship;
iv) women bored of men wanting more than just friendship so now insist on women only;
v) fakes trying to lead you off and ensnare you to join premium dating websites;
vi) young teenagers desperate to grow up by faking their ages;
or vii) ones that have been placed a million years ago with a now defunct email address.
Then follows the sadly repetitive "getting to know you mails", where you basically repeat everything that you wrote on your profile and answer the same questions again and again. It is quite sad that in today's society the majority of people still believe that asking what you do for your occupation gives them a better judge of who you really are!
It is equally disheartening that often people who meet me can guess my occupation without every knowing or understanding the "real me". They pigeon-hole me with others of the same ilk and never get past that suited image, when in reality I am truly unique and not conforming to any stererotype you might chose to label upon me.
With a low batting average of only one reply for every ten prospective befriending emails sent out, it's a double blow when some of the replies come back as negatives, with comments like "sorry, I am only interesting in meeting gay guys and your not " attached.
And even if you do manage to make a correspondence last more than a few weeks, the blow falls even harder when they finally get married and / or begin to start a family and admit that they will have very little time to write in the future.
Receiving the annual email from those wayward friends are like the belated birthday cards from Great Aunt Hilder, more often than not without anything new to read but still enough to make you feel a little guilty if you pretend to just ignore it or don't send you own reply within the next couple of weeks!
However, I will continue to keep in touch with old friends, and hunt out for some new friends, as I always get a warm buzz when I get a great long email to read. Also some of the friendships that I have made online have blossomed into strong and lasting relationships with people that I trust, respect and value highly.
I think it was Sturgeon who said "90% of everything is rubbish" well that may be true, but I'm still prepared to suffer the masses, as often I have found in that last 10% that which is truly remarkable and certainly worth searching for.
November 05, 2006
My Place In The Sun
I was debating for a little while on how exactly to begin this entry, but no matter which way I ran it thought in my head it never quite came out right. Thus I gave up and settled on that this was indeed the best way to start it, by explaining how I couldn't.
And for me, the funny thing about writing is that as soon as I start, it just flows out of me, and both the best and the worst thing I can ever do is stop of go back to edit it. On the one hand, editing it allows me to iron out any grammatical mistakes, but on the other it not only stems the flow of new ideas for awhile but it also too often lengthens a perfectly adequate shortened version of the same thing.
However, as my oldest friend gave me the title of "tangent queen" more than a decade ago ( and I'm getting steadily worse with age apparently ), it is sometimes never-the-less required for me to go back and heavily rework something as otherwise, unless you happened to be a gifted mind reader or know me very well, you would not have the foggiest idea of what I am going on about.
The only saving grace is that when it comes to private in jokes or keeping secrets I can be vastly more open than most and still not give the game away. In a way it is as if I have learned to, instead of breaking the truth, to give it back from such an angle that you probably won't even recognise it as what it really is, at least not without a little deeper thought.
And with that out the way, I can now get back to writing what this entry was meant to be all about, to wit ... My Place In The Sun.
Although this may seem very premature, and also possibly very arrogant ( or foolish ), it is with a sort of detached awareness that I am prepared to now announce that I am 99% sure that I am going to own a bar in Malaysia ... eventually.
I can already clearly visualise many of the bars parts, such as the karaoke area, the billiard table and darts board ( that will hardly ever get used ), the small selection of games behind the counter ( like a few decks of cards, dominoes, chess/checkers board as well as a mahjong and a backgammon set ) and a few ex-pats happy to see a fellow Brit while they congratulate themselves on moving out here but at the same time slating the current UK government for all the mistakes its making back home.
And what, I hear you ask, gives me this feeling of complete confident, enough to make such a sweeping claim and risk getting serious egg on my face? Well it comes from many different things that when added up together all seem to blend into a sort of fateful inevitability.
1) It ties in perfectly with me wanting to retire in a country that is warm, English speaking and in the far east.
2) It will be a perfect base for me to try and launch a few of my other business ventures ( like the travel writing, the bar stories novel and the personalised tour guide services ).
3) It's an idea that has been strong enough to repeatedly drift in and out of my mind for over half my life.
4) Because I am from the same line as both my parents and my older siblings, which means I'm capable, determined and stubbornly I-won't-take-no-for-an-answer head-stong when I need to be.
5) Because I am not only a Taurian ( once again head-stong ) but was also born in the year of the Fire Dragon ( could you get any more Asian influenced ).
6) Because high up on the list of my favourite books are the Callahan's Bar stories.
...
( I could go on with many many more of these small reasons which individually are pretty pathetic and don't hold much water, but together all build towards a greater unified reason, but I will save them here in an effort to keep this entry short and readable, but what I will do is just give the last two which for me are clinchers !!!)
...
7) Because thanks to my good friend Bob I have some of the Malaysian DJ equipment needed.
Over a year ago he could already see in my eyes that I meant it and was serious, enough so in fact, that he went online and purchased as a present for me, some lights that can only be used in the far east due to their differing electrical circuitry.
He was waiting for the ideal time to present it to me, but as he and his family are now themselves moving down to the coast they didn't want to risk losing it or having it damaged in transit, so they ended up giving it to me on Friday night after a fireworks party.
Note . If your ever lucky enough, like me, to have friends & family who have that much belief in you and actively encourage you to have a go at succeeding in something you've had your heart set on for more years than you can remember, it's not only a colossal waste not to even try, it's also an insult to them!!
And finally the other major reason is 8) Irony...
When you consider that all my life I have spent far fewer than most adult males free time in bars, rarely like to get drunk and lose control, only twice ever managed to work even a single shift behind a bar ( and BOTH times ended up being complete fiasco's ), don't actually like the taste of most bitters; lagers; whiskys; wines or spirits and my own step-father drank himself to a very early grave ... what could be more ironic that me ending up owning a bar !!!
And before anyone can say that, with that last paragraph alone, I have ample reason to never even set foot inside a bar again let alone attempt to work in one, let me just clarify one thing. I am not saying that I will run, organise and work in a Malaysian bar, only that I will own one.
I'm not saying that it will be a crowning success, I'm not planning to make a killing, I'm not expecting to make a tidy profit and I'm not even preparing to barely break even most weeks.
Not at all.
At the moment all I'm predicting is that one way or another I will end up being the legal owner of a Malaysian Bar, and I'm hoping that it won't make significant losses until such times as I find other ways to balance the books or I decide to give up the dream and offload it before it financially cripples me for the foreseeable future.
And for me, the funny thing about writing is that as soon as I start, it just flows out of me, and both the best and the worst thing I can ever do is stop of go back to edit it. On the one hand, editing it allows me to iron out any grammatical mistakes, but on the other it not only stems the flow of new ideas for awhile but it also too often lengthens a perfectly adequate shortened version of the same thing.
However, as my oldest friend gave me the title of "tangent queen" more than a decade ago ( and I'm getting steadily worse with age apparently ), it is sometimes never-the-less required for me to go back and heavily rework something as otherwise, unless you happened to be a gifted mind reader or know me very well, you would not have the foggiest idea of what I am going on about.
The only saving grace is that when it comes to private in jokes or keeping secrets I can be vastly more open than most and still not give the game away. In a way it is as if I have learned to, instead of breaking the truth, to give it back from such an angle that you probably won't even recognise it as what it really is, at least not without a little deeper thought.
And with that out the way, I can now get back to writing what this entry was meant to be all about, to wit ... My Place In The Sun.
Although this may seem very premature, and also possibly very arrogant ( or foolish ), it is with a sort of detached awareness that I am prepared to now announce that I am 99% sure that I am going to own a bar in Malaysia ... eventually.
I can already clearly visualise many of the bars parts, such as the karaoke area, the billiard table and darts board ( that will hardly ever get used ), the small selection of games behind the counter ( like a few decks of cards, dominoes, chess/checkers board as well as a mahjong and a backgammon set ) and a few ex-pats happy to see a fellow Brit while they congratulate themselves on moving out here but at the same time slating the current UK government for all the mistakes its making back home.
And what, I hear you ask, gives me this feeling of complete confident, enough to make such a sweeping claim and risk getting serious egg on my face? Well it comes from many different things that when added up together all seem to blend into a sort of fateful inevitability.
1) It ties in perfectly with me wanting to retire in a country that is warm, English speaking and in the far east.
2) It will be a perfect base for me to try and launch a few of my other business ventures ( like the travel writing, the bar stories novel and the personalised tour guide services ).
3) It's an idea that has been strong enough to repeatedly drift in and out of my mind for over half my life.
4) Because I am from the same line as both my parents and my older siblings, which means I'm capable, determined and stubbornly I-won't-take-no-for-an-answer head-stong when I need to be.
5) Because I am not only a Taurian ( once again head-stong ) but was also born in the year of the Fire Dragon ( could you get any more Asian influenced ).
6) Because high up on the list of my favourite books are the Callahan's Bar stories.
...
( I could go on with many many more of these small reasons which individually are pretty pathetic and don't hold much water, but together all build towards a greater unified reason, but I will save them here in an effort to keep this entry short and readable, but what I will do is just give the last two which for me are clinchers !!!)
...
7) Because thanks to my good friend Bob I have some of the Malaysian DJ equipment needed.
Over a year ago he could already see in my eyes that I meant it and was serious, enough so in fact, that he went online and purchased as a present for me, some lights that can only be used in the far east due to their differing electrical circuitry.
He was waiting for the ideal time to present it to me, but as he and his family are now themselves moving down to the coast they didn't want to risk losing it or having it damaged in transit, so they ended up giving it to me on Friday night after a fireworks party.
Note . If your ever lucky enough, like me, to have friends & family who have that much belief in you and actively encourage you to have a go at succeeding in something you've had your heart set on for more years than you can remember, it's not only a colossal waste not to even try, it's also an insult to them!!
And finally the other major reason is 8) Irony...
When you consider that all my life I have spent far fewer than most adult males free time in bars, rarely like to get drunk and lose control, only twice ever managed to work even a single shift behind a bar ( and BOTH times ended up being complete fiasco's ), don't actually like the taste of most bitters; lagers; whiskys; wines or spirits and my own step-father drank himself to a very early grave ... what could be more ironic that me ending up owning a bar !!!
And before anyone can say that, with that last paragraph alone, I have ample reason to never even set foot inside a bar again let alone attempt to work in one, let me just clarify one thing. I am not saying that I will run, organise and work in a Malaysian bar, only that I will own one.
I'm not saying that it will be a crowning success, I'm not planning to make a killing, I'm not expecting to make a tidy profit and I'm not even preparing to barely break even most weeks.
Not at all.
At the moment all I'm predicting is that one way or another I will end up being the legal owner of a Malaysian Bar, and I'm hoping that it won't make significant losses until such times as I find other ways to balance the books or I decide to give up the dream and offload it before it financially cripples me for the foreseeable future.
November 02, 2006
Britons Most Spied Upon Nation
For those who feel that I am paranoid, read this.
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/02112006/140/britons-most-spied-world.html
" " Britain is one of the surveillance capitals of the world with everyday movements subject to more and more scrutiny, according to the Government's information commissioner.
Demand is growing for a debate on the number of CCTV cameras in Britain - 20% of the world's spy cameras are in the UK - one for every 12 people.
Information commissioner Richard Thomas has warned the UK is in danger of turning into a Big Brother society.
He says more and more personal data is being collected on all of us by the state and big business.
A report ordered by his office found most techniques used to survey the UK public are automated and out of sight.
They include surveillance of international travel, consumer spending, internet use and mobile phones.
Some of this benefits the typical UK family, but it can be "personally threatening" and has wider consequences, the report warns.
It says surveillance can lead to the loss of individuals' anonymity and privacy in different areas of their lives.
The report, produced by a group of academics, predicts that by 2016 surveillance will be ramped up even more.
Shoppers may be scanned as they enter stores, while schools could bring in cards allowing parents to monitor what their children eat.
On the plus side, Mr Thomas said surveillance could help fight terrorism and crime and improve access to public services.
But he added: "As ever-more information is collected, shared and used it intrudes into our private space.
"Mistakes can also easily be made with serious consequences - mistaken identity, inaccurate facts or inferences and breaches of security." ""
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/02112006/140/britons-most-spied-world.html
" " Britain is one of the surveillance capitals of the world with everyday movements subject to more and more scrutiny, according to the Government's information commissioner.
Demand is growing for a debate on the number of CCTV cameras in Britain - 20% of the world's spy cameras are in the UK - one for every 12 people.
Information commissioner Richard Thomas has warned the UK is in danger of turning into a Big Brother society.
He says more and more personal data is being collected on all of us by the state and big business.
A report ordered by his office found most techniques used to survey the UK public are automated and out of sight.
They include surveillance of international travel, consumer spending, internet use and mobile phones.
Some of this benefits the typical UK family, but it can be "personally threatening" and has wider consequences, the report warns.
It says surveillance can lead to the loss of individuals' anonymity and privacy in different areas of their lives.
The report, produced by a group of academics, predicts that by 2016 surveillance will be ramped up even more.
Shoppers may be scanned as they enter stores, while schools could bring in cards allowing parents to monitor what their children eat.
On the plus side, Mr Thomas said surveillance could help fight terrorism and crime and improve access to public services.
But he added: "As ever-more information is collected, shared and used it intrudes into our private space.
"Mistakes can also easily be made with serious consequences - mistaken identity, inaccurate facts or inferences and breaches of security." ""
November 01, 2006
What links Work, Callahan and a Leach ... read on
You know when its time to move on when the moral of the office has got so cold and low that even a snowplough would find it hard to scrape it off the floor.
When we all found out this morning that our companies parent company have decided to ring in sweeping changes that take away the last of the personality of the old company already more than a few of us began to drag out and dust off our our old CV's and consider updating them.
But when they were caught red handed intercepting and reading emails of staff, and not just any old staff but even company directors and the actual MD himself, then IMHO its time to cash in your chips and walk away.
Which is a real pain as on the train coming into work this morning I just finished reading "Callahans Con" and thus the largest emotion running through me at the moment is, or was, free love for one and all regardless of their situation or background.
It is not lightly that I say I more than enjoy reading anything from Spider Robinson, as he has such a way with words that I don't even want to find fault in his work and am happy to fall completely in with the illusion that I have just pulled up a bar stool beside Jake, Eddie and the rest of the crowd.
Even if I am cynical enough to know that the world around me is a big and nasty place, its still refreshing and entertaining to be able to place in a place where there just are no justified prejudices and where there is a group of friends that honest-to-Gaea are so farther down the road to true enlightenment and spiritual awareness that they can on occasion form a comune of true telepathic ability.
Sure, it sounds like sci-fi and it probably is, but to me its more like the proper next step of human evolution and if she species wants to survive then I'd also say its almost essential that someone somewhere starts to try and go down that route, or else were all in deep deep FUBAR.
It is also a place where I could see myself fitting in and being happy to while away many an evenings swapping puns, singing, listening to acoustic guitar riffs and the most excellent pianist that the Bronx even produced. Oh, and did I say that its also probably one of the only bars that you would be most welcome in at any time, on any day, in any clothes, with anyone you chose to have accompany you and drink whatever the damn hell you felt like without even raising so much as an eyebrow from anyone else!
The only other noteworthy thing to write about is that I went to see my doctors yesterday, to get something for my long-overdue-time-to-go-away cough. I was pleasantly flabbergasted that I was only in the waiting room for under two minutes before being given the go ahead to see my doctor.
I was less than impressed however than again in under two minutes he had diagnosed it as "a minor chest infection" and prescribed a course of Amoxicillin for the next week. This is, for the uninitiated, the westerns worlds modern equivalent to the leach of the dark ages.
Regardless of what seems to ail you, their first suggestion is to "take three Amoxicillin tablets each day for the next week and come back if things haven't improved". However as it got me home early in plenty of time to give out treats to my families kids on Halloween evening, then I guess in some ways it was worth the hassle of getting a half day from work.
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