Monthly Archives: September 2016

Breakfast in Nanjing

Oh the nuts are so delightful, I hear the people sing

Now that we’re talking breakfast in Nanjing

Everyone is everywhere and nothing isn’t here

We drink our dogs and damn well walk our beer

 

If you love the revolution clap your hands

The clapping I hear like water on sand

But where were you when this was shit?

A hit, a miss, hitting up the miss?

 

Puttin’ on the ritz with cheese on toast

Not local, but eaten from coast to coast

I want some nice steamed rice and fish

But alas, I never get my wish

 

A spanner in the Turks hits once again

The sun beats down in the pouring rain

Why all the hate in the name of love?

I slip on my boxing gloves.

Musings on bungs

With English football being torn apart by managers and chairmen taking bungs and other unethical financial activity, there’s very little beauty left in the “beautiful game”.

The Premier League has had the most names revealed so far, but it wouldn’t surprise me if corruption extended down to grassroots level. In a climate eight years from the biggest recession since the 1930s, where only twenty league clubs out of ninety-two get the lion’s share of TV and sponsorship money, smaller clubs are struggling to even survive. It would not be out of the realms of possibility for them to take bungs in order to play a certain player or take a “free” transfer from a Premier League club. It would explain some of the inexplicable teamsheet choices even us fans of lower-league teams are getting used to seeing. It also wouldn’t surprise me if there was rampant matchfixing tied in, especially considering the issue has been raised in a recent, unreleated court case.

It is Premier League greed driving both the top flight’s clubs and cashstrapped lower league clubs to take desperate measures for money. And this corruption may not end there.

I love worldbuilding!

Recently I have been looking at the Gaeltacht. Partially this is for research and partially because my grandmother attended an Irish-medium school on the fringes of what was a Gaeltacht area in her childhood. There is evidence, unfortunately, that the current Gaeltacht is shrinking and that Irish could cease to be used as a daily language within ten years.

So how do you fix that? I am creating one of the more radical solutions via the magic of worldbuilding/alternate history. A group of people who I have provisionally (no pun intended) named the Hydeians (after Sir Douglas Hyde, one of the biggest promoters of the Irish language and Celtic culture) unofficially declare the entirety of six of the seven counties currently housing a Gaeltacht as “Irish medium regions” and push the Government into declaring them such. They also seek to establish smaller GaeltachtaĆ­ in areas where there are a plurality of Irish speakers, to preserve and revive local dialects, and to convert all schools in GaeltachtaĆ­ into partial or total Irish-medium depending on the locality. Monolingual English literature will not be provided by local authorities and monolingual English signage is prohibited except for on shops.

I’ll work more on the Hydeian manifesto tomorrow.

Football Manager 2017’s hyperealism in action

First Nigel Pearson was suspended from Derby County with the sack imminent. Somebody I know says some Derby friends have been saying that he planned to completely revamp tonight’s team with some kids from the academy in order to mitigate poor form, but the chairman had some VERY strong objections. It seems a bit harsh though. Gone are the days when managers had near total control of everything that went on in the team- Crystal Palace would still be playing in claret and blue and known as the Glaziers if Malcolm Allinson hadn’t insisted on a Barcelona-style kit and the more modern Eagles nickname back in 1973.

Secondly, Sam Allardyce quit the England job after just 67 days and one game in charge due to a damning report from the Daily Telegraph. Speculation is rife to who will replace him, with Gareth Southgate said to be in talks and Steve Bruce also strongly rumoured. Many fans also believe that Harry Redknapp is in with a chance.

Whoever it is, I just hope they last a LOT longer than Big Sam.

Today’s news

In today’s news, nothing of importance. Two totally inept excuses for “politicians” are running for presidency of the most powerful country in the western world whereas in sports a footballer once again said something stupid.

As much as I love the beautiful game, paying people millions per week to kick a ball around and be an arsehole off the pitch is ludicrous. I believe it’s time to bring back a maximum wage. Those spoiled brats will cry about how they’re sooooooo close to being homeless, but the clubs will have more money and ticket prices will go down as a result.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again- choosing between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump is like choosing how you want to die. Both will destroy America in their own way. The fact that the Democrats actively cheated to get Hillary as their nominee says a lot about her electability. And the less said about Trump the better. Let’s just say he doesn’t like many people that aren’t him.

Sometimes I hate the modern world.

Adventures in size

I hate this sleeping sickness. The sickness that consumes the thoughts, mind and body. How am I supposed to write when writing is a product of a fresh mind?

Oh lord.

Oh lerd.

Oh lard.

Lard is the syncopator and sugar the stimulant. Stimulating oscillating brainwaves around the day and night. The brain never sleeps, even when you do. It generates itself.

G-E-N-E-R-A-T-E-S.

Greatly expanding nervous electrodes rampage across the electric storm.

This is the generation of laze.

The laze craze.

Cut it with a laser for the world is no longer here.

Within two years you are a different person.

Atoms change and so does the mind.

Nothing is static.

Except me.

Milkshakes in Maui

Ey up love, this is ‘News at Ten.

Are top story- two cheeky little buggers were spotted geein’ each other an ‘andy ahtside ‘Co-op up Intek.

Milkshakes in Maui are gainin’ in popularity after some sod on ‘telly sed they were bleedin’ scrumptious. Ah’d rather ‘ave a can a’ Magnet mesen but each to their own ah suppose.

‘Tories are still complete knobheads, and

Summat about Jose Mourinho.

Then we ‘ave ‘weather, presented by ‘lovely Weathertron Mark 69. Ey up, Weathertron.

Good evening, Stanley.

Weathertron, we taak Yaakshire round ‘ere. Taak Yaakshire!

I am simulating the Yorkshire accent.

I sed taak Yaakshire! That in’t taakin’ Yaakshire, that sounds like a southern ponce trahn’ ter mak fun o’ us!

Hello up, I am Weathertron. I am attempting to simulate t’Yorkshire way of speaking by processing dialectal inflections.

Bleddy ‘ell, these robots! Aren’t ‘alf useless are they!