Cooperativo Oso Pardo d’Espanya (COPE)

The Observer Book of Weather (Observer 20/5/07 p.31).

"In December 2006, bears in the mountains of Spain gave up hibernating because the winter was simply too warm."

My first comment was - “All ten of them!"

The Scene.

A smouldering rubbish dump somewhere at the back of Torrelavega in Cantabria, December 2006.

There appears to be a group of large men in fur coats shambling about or sprawled on abandoned furniture. They are seen to be ‘oso pardo’, brown bears. They are all male, ‘machos’.

Raoul speaks in a heavy Gallegan accent, wearing shades and a baseball cap. He is spread-eagled on a collapsed leather chair. Taking an enormous spliff out of his mouth he waves it in the direction of the other bears, vaguely.
"Hey dude, wanna hit?"
He usually insists on greeting each member with a high five, most of the time he is wasted. Privately, members of COPE think Raoul is too close to the 'out of work' boat crews in Cabo who supply the Yerba Buena.

The direction Raoul was waving the spliff includes in its 120 degree arc an old car on 3 wheels and a beer keg. Through the crazed windscreen there appears to be someone or something in the car. It is an impression rather than and image. The impression is of a bear sat behind the wheel turning it from side to side. If you listened hard you might hear a low sound "Brrm Brrm"- or maybe not. Perhaps this is Alfonso, from Cantabria. He is known, unkindly, by the other members of COPE, as Alfonso el Sabio.

A small but very powerful bear has just shambled into the space. He is carrying a huge stone, a box on his back and pulling a dead ox on a rope. The other bears greet him.
"Ola Inyaki! Still in training?"
Inyaki is Basque, but the bears never, ever, refer to him as such. He is always described as the honoured member from Euskadi. A good bear on your side in a fight, he does tend to hang on to the spliffs and the honeycombs when they are being passed round. The other members of COPE suspect that he has separatist tendencies and too great a fondness for Txacoli, drinking it as if it was water, which it nearly is, of course.

Leon from Leon is the current convenor. He sits at the centre of the space twitching his slightly grey, patrician, muzzle. These meetings are just an excuse for him to get out and cut loose. He would prefer more civilised, intelligent companions.
His grandfather once described a meeting of the Guild, as it was then called, in the 40s that was addressed by a magnificent but rather strident black bear called, Herman. There is no one of that stature, strength or moral fibre here today.

Javier, from Asturias is the firebrand, political commissar, and secretary of the Coop. His father was once shot at by the Caudillio and lived to tell the tale. The tale inherited by his son is a patrimony generously and frequently distributed. He is proud to be addressed as 'El Rojo'. He would probably be shocked by his nickname of 'La Rioja', identifying at least two of his preferences (weaknesses?), if he ever heard it.

Makeweight bears from Segovia (Guitarra), Burgos (Sid), Avila (Jose Maria!), Salamanca (El Profesor), Aragon (Bruno) and Navarra (Garbanzo) sit or shuffle through the rubbish.

Leon calls the meeting to order and sets out the agenda.

"Colleagues", he will never be able to use the more accepted address of comrades,

"We need to decide three things today."

"Who will we send to the 'Bear Necessities' networking event for EU subsidies in Poland?"

"How much will we contribute to the 'Lost Cubs of Rumania' Appeal?"

"And, if we are going to hibernate this winter?"

Raoul lets out a growl that would send shivers down the spine of a vampire and shambles, unsteadily, over to the bear from Aragon. He proffers the spliff.

"Jeesu Bruno! This skunk would make an Opus Dei Archbishop take up animal husbandry!"

Inyaki takes his accordion out of its box and starts to play one of those interminable txirmiri folk tunes. Several bears groan. Jose Maria lets out a wild howl and calls for the partying to begin. Garbanzo then takes off in a tuneless song of death, loss, betrayal, and txacoli, but not necessarily in that order. Javier rests his head in his hands. Leon rolls his eyes. It's going to be a long hard winter.

If you looked at the three wheeled car you might have the impression that Alfonso was sitting still; very, very still. If you listened hard you might hear a low rumble, barely a voice. You would think it was saying

"I'm going to stay up all winter."

over and over again.

Annual Report and Accounts of Buddhist Pizza Investment Enterprises.

I have great pleasure in presenting the annual report and accounts of Buddhist Pizza Investment Enterprises (BPIE).
First can I welcome our visitors from the USA, Tibet and South Wazieristan. It is pleasant to see violent saffron robes mixing once again with the gentle hues of olive green uniforms and the modest garb of our faithful followers.

We have proved ourselves not only popular but profitable! The accompanying consolidated accounts show a remarkable and substantial increase in trading. Despite having to countenance the early retirement of our good friend Mr Wolf for family reasons we have continued with strong growth in all sectors. We carry forward a surplus of over 60 billion dollars, after tax, due in no small part to the hard work of our staff and directors and the ease in selling the idea of Affordable Nuclear Deterrence for Small and Medium Countries.

It took some time to develop this concept with the commander in chief of our private security company but we got there in the end. I will pause for a moment to remember those that fell on the journey, Donald, Karl and the old guy who used to bring the coffee and hubble-bubbles round, or was it the hookers, when we were looking for inspiration.

I have to pay tribute here to someone very special. I could not have done this without the unselfish support of my deputy, Dick, or Deputy Dick as we refer to him. Only someone with a religious conviction so strong, a humane vision of the sanctity of all life and an understanding of the importance of the bottom line could have driven this organisation to the position it is in today! I recommend the modest increase in his remuneration to 10 percent of the audited surplus and a similar contribution to his pension fund. As you know I draw no remuneration from our company but make a modest charge of 4,000 dollars a mile for my travel and subsistence.
The diagram above shows the breadth of interest in our product across the globe. We are glad to see activity in the USA on the Eastern Seaboard. This includes contact with Langley Va. and a substantial property in DC. I personally look forward to developing a very close relationship here.

The traditional market for our type of product is well represented by our contacts in Germany, Italy and Sweden. They are very discrete retailers. In addition, the EU is a haven of peace, stability and security and so able to to provide our products and services to those that are not. They have done this in a way which is affordable, not traceable and free from so called 'ethical' restraint for some time.

Interesting and adventurous proposals are at the heart of our business. This is the reason that we have not overdeveloped in the dark, and eventually we hope very profitable, continent. We are making steady progress in East Africa and have avoided some of the pitfalls that minor competitors have experienced.

My regret for the year is that interest in China and Mongolia appears not to have continued from its early, high, level. That is why I am so pleased to have our visitors with us today from Central Asia. We wish to prosper in a region to which we owe so much philosophically.

It is important not to paint too rosy a picture for our investors. There are substantial threats and challenges in the year ahead. I have not used the R word so far but I cannot duck the duties of a responsible helmsperson. My colleagues on the board see Russia as a threat. That may be the case and I'm sure you were willing to submit to the minor inconvenience of a full body radiological examination before being admitted to the meeting. Peace of mind is, after all, priceless. I prefer to see Russia as an opportunity for the future, and hope to have some exciting news when we report on BPIE next year. Until then, I take the approval of the report and accounts as read, invite you to join us in a glass of wine, just the one, and commend to you our company slogan.

Make me one with everything.

Integers and Flowers

OK
So this is mine

41 2A 9B DD 98 F4 46 AC 2B 04 3A 55 3F 03 28 E0

Keep your hands off.

Thanks.

Meanwhile where the cow slips there slip I.

Getting it Wrong

Sometimes it is possible to be wrong and feel a warm glow.
Adieu Woolfi Adieu.

I mentioned my failing to a colleague this pm and she suggested that it was a shame he was ousted for favouring his A rab squeeze.

Ho Hummmm.....

The Last Person to Leave

I'll get this in first. There are bound to be lots of bad jokes about light bulbs when we get there.

I am grateful for the thought to A Brown esq. and The Major, of course.

Two Soldiers squat in a shelter somewhere on an airfield in the south of Iraq. The heat is ferocious and the dust and detritus of war so thick in the air it precludes thought let alone vision. Smartarsed bastard in the squad called it the fall out from munitions of depleted humanity.

"Sarge, can we no leg it tae the ramp and get in the transport?"

"No private McCavity, we are going to wait for the signal that the ramp is clear of shite so that we are not left out in the cold waiting for some godless bastard to blow our arses off."

"Don't worry son, were going home. No one wants to be the last poor fucker to die for a mistake."

"Aye well."

"Did I ever tell you about the Major?"

"You mean Major Wales, Sarge?"

"No you bampot. The Major. The man who ran the flag down in Palestine and was the last one out alive."

"Is that like, Gaza?"

"The Major retired from the British Army and was supplementing his pension running a student union on the banks of the Forth when I met him."

"He told us this and while he could tell a good story, I have no reason to doubt it."

"He was part of the last group out. There he was lowering the old onion jack for the final time in the middle of some god forsaken part of a newly abandoned Palestine."

"Being somewhat preoccupied, the cunning old bastard had not fully appreciated his position. During the descent of the flag he realised that he was the last squaddie on the ground and there was a superior number of the chosen few out there who would nail his sorry ass."

"He described his exit in words involving shite and a shovel. He had us in tears, but I think it was tight enough."

"Is this you trying tae take my mind off it Sarge."

"Aye son, just think of me as your fucking mother."

"Thanks Sarge but I'll give the goodnight kiss a miss, your no ma type!"

"No probs. McCavity."

They receive the signal to go. They start up, heading for the ramp.

Each is thinking of the Major and his jolly jape when an explosion rips the vehicle apart.

It was the tenth time that McCavity had been fired on in Iraq.

Shy and Retiring.

June 2007.

Two men sit in a room, uncomfortable on such a hot day, dressed in jackets and ties. It is gloomy. There are large windows but the drapes filter out most of the light. A bottle of 30 year old malt, the colour of a maiden's blush, sits between them. Each cradles a glass.

"You'll be off tomorrow then, Tony?"

"Yes, I'll just say goodbye to the staff and tootle down to the palace."

"Put the fear of god into the old bat. Tell her that Phil the Greek is going on trial for conspiracy to murder!"

"Shit, Gordon that's not funny!"

"No, but I would love to see the silly old fart stand up sober in court and deny it. Have you heard from Peter?"

"Oh god, Gordon, one long whine after another."

"That is a shame, such talent, such intellect, such legs!"

"Now Gordie, remember the deal."

"OK, Tony. Is there any more of the devil's buttermilk?"

"Why not!"

"I tell you kid; I don't know what you had to do to get Big I to sign up for the deal but I hand it to you. In fact I don't want to know. I'm away off to see The Mater at the weekend and I could not have that on my conscience. Wife and bairns ok about this, Tony?"

"Yes. Ms Manzanilla is going off to a re-birthing experience in the mud flats of Cancun. The wains will all come round in the end. I'm sorry about the other night, Ewan is so highly strung. He takes after his mother!"

"OK Tone, no offence. Any more?"

"Sure. Why not? How's herself, I bet she is looking forward to this?"

"Aye. It's a pity it is not Princess M, though, that would have given me some fun with Betty when we went up to the palace."

"Christ, give me some more of that, I'm having second thoughts about this."

"No worries pal. I'm just pulling the plonker for old times sake."

As the level of the bottle goes down the two men fall silent and look in to the distance.

Visions from the past seep into the foreground; things getting better not worse, friends and comrades lost and dead.

"Look, Gordon, I would exhort you to abjure vanity and self-aggrandisement, recognise that you are the honoured servant of the people and that your only righteous purpose is to promote the welfare of your fellow citizens and the wellbeing of mankind."

"Away tae fuck, Tone! You are a serious piece of business. Oops it's empty. Is there any more?"

"I'll send one of the little people to see."

"Thanks!"

Big Questions for Gordie

Gordie, does Vulture Capitalism automatically lead to non-domicide tax status?

The Last Will and Testament A. Blair.

Being of sound mind and firm intent I hereby dispose of my personal, political and literary estate.
To my wife and family I leave the legacy of the years I have spent in public service. My wish is that all my disposable property, land, houses and chattels, pensions, debts and credits, the total, to be for their benefit in perpetuity as agreed by my Executrix.
My personal papers, electronic correspondence and computer files I leave to Ms AC my political Executrix. It is my earnest wish that she dispose of them in such fashion that they do not cast doubt on my character, competence or capacity. It is also my wish that any benefit in cash or in kind which derives from these hereditaments is applied to the relief of poverty, famine, and destitution in the countries of Iraq and Afghanistan.
The manuscript of the Great Novel, The Songs and Riffs and The Literary Trivia I leave to Domenic Lawson for the Radio 4 Archive and hereby bequeath the fees for access to the same to the following Anj………

The North

Two men sit in a room across a well polished table looking out to an expanse of green through high windows.

"Another Jaffa Cake, Ian, to go with the Orange Pekoe?"

"No thank you, Martin. Herself the Baroness is at me to lose some more weight."

"Lord, you would not want to upset her now, she is a powerful woman."

"Martin, I would rather run naked down the Falls Road wearing a nipple ring and a green white and gold turban, drinking from a flagon of the devil's buttermilk!"

"I thought Gerry came up with a fine tribute to George Dawson. He has a way with the Gaelic that can sometimes bring a tear to these sad old eyes of mine.!"

"I didn't know you had such an appreciation of the Erse, Ian."

Each man falls into a companionable silence and looks out across the castle lawn as if into the future.

In the distance each can hear music.

Ian picks out the faint strains of a fife band playing 'The Sash' but Martin just hears the lilt of the uillean pipes as they flow through the notes of 'The Derry Air'.

And cut!