Greetings

Remember?
In cyberspace only the algorithms can hear you scream.

Thanks to all those that have given us such a laugh this year!
B O'B, KJ-U, Mr Murphy and the wasted eggs, Mr E M and his penchant for bacon butties.
Mr G O. Go Gideon for screwing the, the economy, mainly.....

Christmas Caption Competition

I stumbled on this post in Memex 1.1. If my eyes and the camera do not deceive me, and they often do, they show our own royal Big Ears and his goodladywifethesecond having a sort of royal chortle!

The challenge for this year is to provide a caption suitable to the gravity and solemnity of the occasion.

Please do not lower the tone of this blog by inserting words such as t*dger, jo*nson, will*e or even coc* and think you will get away with it. Our eagle eyed, ever vigilant, editor will be on your case like a rat up a drainpipe. I said our eagle... (I heard you the first time for god's sake. I was up half the night with the bairns...Ed)

Would that be the single malt, 32 year old Bairns by the way? (They have grown  in the last few years I have to admit. Now do you think we could discuss, quietly over a cup of tea, a small cost of living increase in my remuneration.. Ed? As Jimmy Cameron once remarked the cost of living has increased to the equivalent of  £45 a bottle!)

The best, and printable caption will appear in this blog in  the new year.

He said, fearlessly, steadfastly, in the teeth of fierce opposition from the estab (... Jaysus I'm off to my bed before this gets any worse and the big boys come and kick the door in ...Ed)

Do blogs have doors? Possibly they have back doors!

Many thanks to JN for a bit of light  and some fun in a dark world this year!

Tinkers

And another...

If

 'ifs and ands were pots and pans there'd be no work for tinkers'

An article about hacking and it occurred to me that we needed another word for the people who carry it out. That is the good stuff persons who fix things and make things and do not set out to rob you, or otherwise injure you or deprive you of your private life etc.

How about Tinkers. I know there is a lot of negativity attached but it does have a certain ring to it.

( A fairy ring perhaps.. It'll never catch on... I've seen that look in your eye before... God help us all... Ed)

Out of the mouths..

Nice wee film from the Grauniad/Th'Observer, and not because they are two nice wee lassies!

http://www.theguardian.com/film/2014/dec/14/across-divide-northern-ireland-film

Not quite as simple as that but I look forward to the follow up...

Already, a group from Derry plans to challenge Palestinian and Israeli children to do the equivalent – swap a hijab for a skullcap – at an international schools encounter in Genoa.

Can't Play! Won't Play!

As part of a reading project I read Can't and Won't by Lydia Davies.
You can read what the NYT thinks of it via the link.  Members of the project were asked to read selected books and then write a
crit/review/reasons to like /dislike of between 30 - 200 words and assign a green, amber or red traffic light, amber in my case.
My view, should you be interested, is set out below:-

Maybe I got off on the wrong foot expecting A Story of Stolen Salamis to be about the battle. It was a letdown to realise it was about salamis, or sausages if you will.
How I feel about this book!
I do not like Flaubert.
I have dreams of my own, thank you.
Authors should not require cows to stand in the snow for long periods.
I have a good working relationship with cats. In the main I ignore them.
I enjoy reading letters.
I, too, suffer from over preparation and stage fright.

Trees deserve respect and should only be slaughtered for pulp if absolutely necessary.
Alternatively, electrons are available on prescription from the pharmacy at the hospital for literary diseases!

I mention this because the irritation I felt on reading it was dissipated to some extent by crafting thoughts on it afterwards.
(...crafting is one way of looking at it I suppose. Ed)

Leaves that are green

Tom Sutcliffe, during Start the Week (BBC R4 1/12/14), was discussing evolution and other matters with Jules Pretty, Andreas Wagner,  Ruth Padel  and Chris Stringer. In a casual comment he suggested  "solar panels don't grow on trees" only to catch  himself on, as they say in Belfast, as the panel indulged in collective harrumphing!

 Oh yes they do!

Crafted by Ol' Ma Nature over millions of years!
Other suppliers are available 

What a Sauce!

Seen in a barn while xmas shopping on a very wet Sunday in November while the temperature made its mind up about whether it wanted one digit or two.

Nuff said.

An Awfully Big Theory of Everything

Just booked to see the Imitation Game. Top film about a top secret, even the write ups are hush, hush on the QT!

In answer to an advertisement  Smart Boy Wanted,  placed in Secret Agents Classified, Steven Turing applies for the job. Turing, a wizard, mathematical genius and inventor of the Bombe Surprise shortens the Second World War by an average of ten years. He is played by Alan Fry and his faithful butler Higgs to Wodehousean perfection. The film deals sensitively with Turing's Motor Home Disease, a dreadful affliction which leaves him permanently incarcerated in a purpose built cottage with wheels on the outskirts of Cambridge. The crux of the film comes when Turing and Higgs are summoned to the mansion of the Dowager Hawkwind to discuss Life, the Universe, String Theory and how to get the Dreadfulhun off her lawn at Belchly Abbey... (continued, see Blog 94...)

Support your local Quantum Mechanic!

Coming to a branch near you.

Jim and John explain at Th'Observer

Not only do we have to admire the aggressive,  cheeky little bu**e*rs for what they are but they can do QM on the fly!

Autumnal Thoughts

Tinnitus in old age is just nature's way of ringing bells to no effect!

A Purrfect Day

If my memory serves me right, often it does not, Brenda and Cameron were reported to be purring down the phone to each other recently for some reason or other. Well if you want to read the truth, see it written on the back of a bus...

Possibly they were discussing the zoo at Banham?
Or it could be they were looking ahead to the Urns at Clacton-on-Sea?
(Meoww...Ed)

A lying of pardoners

Chloe Rhodes writes in the Grauniad today on ten of the best collective nouns.
There, nestled amongst the murders, parliaments and unkindnesses is the lying of pardoners.
Because we at BP offer such services our ears were pricked.

Medieval society was dominated by the church, and the ticket to heaven was an unsullied soul. In pursuit of spiritual purity, but largely unable to resist the occasional temptation, the desperate populace turned to "pardoners" to cleanse them of their sins. Pardoners were usually friars or priests who claimed to be in close contact with the pope, whom they said gave them the power to grant absolution. For a fee, naturally. Not surprisingly, the profession attracted a large number of fraudsters armed with fake papal pardons and bogus relics. Records held by the Corporation of the City of London dating back to the 15th century reveal several cases of "lying pardoners" being put in the stocks.

Good to see that the CotCoL records the punishments of such scoundrels. However, should the CotCoL require our services in the future they should not hesitate to contact us immediately! (I hope you are not suggesting in any way that CotCoL would do anything to require shrivings of any magnitude...Ed?)
Not in the least but in today's algorithmic, light speed financial markets it is always possible that software can have unintended consequences. At such pace speeding tickets should always be avoided!

Settled Will

It's over then?
For another year of so
Disappointed?
A wee bit.
Is it the wains?
Aye.
Going to be hard enough.
Aye, Gideon's no goin tae splash the bawbees aboot. No much couters candy either.
I would guess a certain amount of sporran squeezing will be the order of the day and the day after.
Do ye think if we had men the size of Maclean, Maxton and Reid we would have lost?
Aye. Where are they when you need them?
Deed!
Still I thought old Gordy did well.
Undeed!
See you the morra!
All's Weal that ends Weal!
Up to a point Lord Cameron, up to a point!

PurdahTory

Soon be over now chaps just a few more hours until the urns shut up shop.
In the meantime we would not want to be leaving you all in Libo, just to Labover the point.
Think of this as a test card like they used to have on the good old Beeb.

and something for you to read.

The Round House  by Louise Edrich and 5742 Days by Anne-Marie Cockburn.

A wise and thoughtful piece on you know what from the Grauniad on the day Andy Murray tweets allegedly for the proposition.
(Enough! I thought we agreed to say nothing if we can't agree...Ed)

Nothing!

Postcards from Purdah 5

Ever think about where all those shy and retiring animals go? The Yeti, snow leopard etc.
Spotted in Norfolk (Groan...Ed)

Postcards from Purdah 4

I thought I would share two lovely thoughts brought on by reading Helena Attlee's the Land Where Lemons Grow. On p83 she states that mandarins are "easy peelers" no suggestion, of course that the phrase could be used to describe a corrupt policeman! Also an event she claims  reported by Salvatino Bonacorso when Leonardo Sciascia is alleged to have walked out of a city council  meeting in  Palermo announcing that the city was irredeemable.

A fascinating book, hugely enjoyable (All I can say is it doesn't take much...Ed)
Do I detect a hint of bitter lemons or is that chinotto I see you are drinking?

Postcards from Purdah 3

Lynton Crosby, smoked.
Lynton Crispy?

Just a thought!

Postcards from Purdah 2 Holiday Reading

A few books for my shelves for a few weeks. They will have to be returned, of course.

Should keep me out of trouble.

Postcards from Purdah 1

As we sit here not quite in the garden of England, enjoying the late sun of an Indian Summer, reading about the Land  Where the Lemons Grow our thoughts turn Citrically to Nato and what would happen if our friends in the north were refused membership of the same on declaring independence. We have heard many views and seen much analysis including the suggestion that Norway and Iceland are unlikely to invade! However, I would be less sanguine about the Jaffas! Blood oranges I suppose.
(I thought you were in Purdah...Ed!)
Greetings from Purdah!

The McTavish Letter

Any resemblance to persons(real or corporate), places or things is entirely,fictitious, fortuitous and as such, is  a failure of the author's poor befuddled brain.
(As a husband, father and deeply religious person I am glad you covered our arses with that one...Ed.)

Dateline London 12 September 2014 15:30 BST
Deep in the bowels of Whitehall a lowly civil servant is scouting for a place for nefary. In a dusty corner of an unused office in a redundant building an envelope sits on an otherwise empty desk. It displays itself, coyly, provocatively, promising distraction to an aching heart and ungirded loins. It is addressed to a certain McTavish in some god forsaken part of the realm, probably as remote and dreek as it is unpronounceable.  The envelope, open and unsealed provides access to the letter within. To the practiced bureaucratic eye it quickly yields its burden. The letter is cover for the return of material strangely not enclosed but which is clearly detailed  and purports  to incriminate certain politicians north of the border in heinous crimes and misdemeanors; treason, spousal abuse, theft, animal husbandry, incest and Scottish Country Dancing are but a few of these horrors. The missive thanks the addressee for provision of this material but states that it would not be, in the national interest for the government to have said material in its possession at this time.

The covering epistle  bears a single letter as a mark of signature. (I take it that is not an X...Ed?)
No we are not talking military intelligence! The address of the sender is a Post Office Box - Whitehall 1212 - not identified further.  

The dutiful civil servant swiftly brings the letter to the attention of the powers that be, thus  shifting the monkey in the box as quickly as possible( but not before making an untraceable copy.) The powers that be, as might be expected, consider that accusations of eating babies, deep fried in batter, require extensive consultation and evidence gathering  before a draft report with proposals for an interim memorandum to the Cabinet Office,  copy of course to the Treasury, could be circulated.

In the fullness of time the news desks of various publications received communications, again from 50 untraceable sources which contained 19 digit numbers of bank accounts which would be in existence in exotic locations for the next 24 minutes. These offices could be used to deposit large sums of boodle and in exchange the originators would provide incontrovertible evidence, evidence of such magnitude, evidence in such depth  that  it would sink any campaign battle bus in a sea of mixed metaphors.

The money goes out, the evidence comes in and 2 countries, like 2 mature adults, consider that for the sake of the children they would be better off together.

I noticed that when I drew the attention of herself to a story on the BBC about a certain Mr Murphy being pelted with eggs recently her only comment was that it's a terrible waste of eggs.  This seemed like a sensible approach or deeply ironic or both.
I believed this to be the case thinking she does not have a pig in the race. However, at a later date she demanded to know of me if she would be entitled to a Scottish passport in the event of a yes vote!

I smell bacon.

Anyways, it might not be a bad idea for this blog  to go into purdah until the 18th so as not to unduly influence our friends in the north. (PAH...Ed!)