Wednesday, December 24, 2008

You Saved 1968...

Fair enough of the beeb to mark the 40th anniversary of Bill Anders' Earthrise photographs. The most well-known one is one of two NASA images that I would argue belong in any "Best of the 20th Century" collection; Armstrong's snap of Aldrin being the other.

It was a tough Christmas for many, after a tough year. It was also my first. This moment made a lot of it worthwhile, so I urge you to make it a part of your Christmas iconography, if it isn't there already.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008


Message for the celebration of the World Day of Peace 2009

His Arse-Holiness is at it again.

This year's euphemism for universal bigotry is "Human Ecology". Put simply, where I put my dick is - according to Benny - just as important as where I put my old newspapers.

It appears that, when it comes to literal interpretation of scripture, the rules are still fuzzy. Leviticus is still a touchstone for Herr Kommandant, but "Goodwill To All Men" is more of a guideline, it seems.


Monday, December 22, 2008

3,262,827 to 1 against, and falling...

And as the Technicolor pharmacological cocktail that was my weekend fades to a faintly fuzzy Christmas Week, it's time to reflect on jobs well done.

It still looks as if the house sale will actually go through. I feel a bit like Scarlett Johansson, winning the lottery and going away to live on The Island (Michael Bay movies make a reasonable substitute for sleep while in a hospital bed); the Internet got the Christmas shopping done, with minimal coaxing, even managing to engage genuinely helpful humans in the process; and the foreign body to which I was playing host has been neutralized and removed, without recourse to anything resembling a "John Hurt Moment".

So far at least, nothing is becoming 2008 so much as the leaving of it.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Christmas on the Slab

Just about to leave for University Hospital, Wales; aka Stradling's Retreat. Got a date with a long prehensile instrument, rather like that thing that menaces Ann Robinson (no, the other one) in War of the Worlds. Fortunately for Ann, she didn't posess the undignified means of entry that mine will be using; thus completing my personal score-card of intimate invasions in the process, you'll be enchanted to learn.

If successful, I will be lighter by one small mineral body. Small it may be, but it's been punching way above its weight. Time to part company. Then it's a few days in Painkiller Oz, in which I currently plan to spiritually attend three birthday parties, and counting.

In other news;


That is, accepted an offer yesterday and legal gnomes have commenced scampering. All jolly exciting. Small matter of having no-where to live until Hev repeats the feat not yet dampening my spirits...

Okay nurse, I'm ready...