Stornoway
I can tell you, with absolute authority, that the skies above Stornoway are bright and blue. Of course, a cosmopolitan assortment of clouds varying from merely harmless and fluffy to "Grrrrr, I'm going to deluge" perpetually denies the inhabitants this wonderful sight. Yet, it was mine, as I flew to the Western Isles for the weekend, on a nausea inducing proppelor plane.

Iain, keen to display his newly found Highway prowess picks us up from the airport, and we head into town. It wasn't dark yet. In fact, this place is so far up North, that I'm sure they're giving the Norse a run for their money, and should open a SAD research centre here. But in summer, it's bright all night. Leave the house, and - WAIT - don't lock the door. Iain insists that there is no need to lock the front door of the house. I protest - flabbergasted that you would ever leave a front door unlocked for convenience.
"It won't be convenient when you come back to an empty house."
"It wont be empty - if someone steals something, where are they going to take it?"
"But, it's unlocked!!"
"This isn't London"
"But, it's unlocked!!"

But in reality, it is unlikely that there will be crime on the island. If you want to be alone, move to a big city, as it is the only true sanctuary for those seeking solitude today. Jesus would never roam the desert for 40 days today, he would move to London for a 3 month contract.

We head out to a Thai, and then beer. Not a lot of beer, for there was running to do the next day.

Saturday morning: Wind and Rain appeared to be the only two people who wanted to be outdoors. As they played violently outside, I made a conscience decision to get away with as little as possible. Which meant not even attempting to run the full half marathon. Reports came in that a plane had tipped over by the airport, and at the last moment, the course was changed to run around the town, and then around the castle grounds twice. Around the town, and around the castle grounds once was enough for me, as the soup was warm in the pavilion, and the weather was still abysmal outside.

As soon as the race was over, and the weather decided to improve, and we headed down to Tarbet for a drive. The car was unlocked, and the keys to the car were in the ignition. At this point I had decided that the whole insecurity thing was merely a ruse to scare me. Beautiful scenery, windy single track roads, and salmon in the surrounding lake. The Islanders are in line for bundles of grants from both the British government, and the EU.
At the moment, the EU grants appear to be flooding in, and so I would like the German taxpayer to be made aware that they are paying for this:



The small lighter green patch on the centre right is a tennis court. That's right, Berlin paid for some bloke to build a tennis court in the middle of nowhere, with a view to the coastline. Another story: A road was constructed for access to 5 houses at a cost of £5million. The man who runs the local road company built a bigger house - no doubt part of the house building cost could be offset with EU grants as well.
Yes, impoverished locals clinging to their historic lifestyle, with the aid of the generous Germans. Allowing the locals enough money to purchase that enormous Volvo to get about town. Poor pool locals. More photos at photos.killerkangaroo.com

Then back into Stornoway, dinner, and head out for inebriation, with whispers of a local band playing somewhere. Drinking, walk to next pub, drinking, walk to next pub, drinking, pickled egg - not to be repeated, drinking, drinking, the disappointment finding the local pizza shop closed at 2am, and then finally home.

Sunday, in Bible Island, and everything is closed, bar the petrol station and airport. Opening the airport on the Sabbath caused quite a raucous too. I even found a Bible in Gallic, and it made me realise that the dominance of English in the Western hemisphere may be convenient, but the price is clear. I doubt that Shakespeare translated into Finnish could be quite as good as the original, which makes me wonder how much is lost in the Dostoevsky I pretended to read. Gallic is already haemorrhaging from the years of English trampling that will surely see to it's death, and it is sad to see this end so near. Ironic though, that a Scottish King - James VI - begun the unification process for Britain. And how many Scottish Nationalist actually speak Gallic? However, having never bothered to learn another language, I cannot yet comment. Perhaps it is time to learn Italian, I tell myself once more.

The Christianity element is present and strong on this island, sure, but it is merely one more factor which unifies the islanders in a fashion that is perhaps conservative. I saw a copy of a Salvation Army publication left behind in a pub. However, Christianity is nothing more than the name given to the shackles that the powerful have used to control and organise the populous. In Saudi it is Islam, in the US it is consumer credit, and inJapan it is honour.

Enroute back the airport on Sunday, we passed Kenny The Barber, who shears hair - badly, I am reliably informed - whose business has grown large enough for him to buy a gargantuan detached property complete with drop-top Mercedes outside. "And he just cuts hair" I question. "There's a lot of loose ends to be cut in Stornoway"
- posted by Daniel @ Tuesday, May 31, 2005 4 comments

 
What time is it?
There is no better word than Numpty to describe what I did yesterday. I woke up at half past, looked out the window, and thought, Dammit. Late again. Shower and then half clothed jump into the car and start driving. Got my shirt and one shoe on, and looked at the clock when I got to a mile down the road. It was half six. Not half eight. Oh my God. Turned the car and went home to eat breakfast and wash some clothes.

Genius at Sainsbury's yesterday, as I scoured the alcohol section for bargains, my eyes were drawn to a cut price deal on Durex.

Today I am concerned about stem cells. Britain and Korea are pretty much ahead of the game here, and the States lags behind because of so called "Right wing Christian nut jobs" (RWCNJ).

In the red corner, we have the scientists whose only vision is the legacy of glory they are determined to create for themselves, as pioneers. I find it difficult to believe that they wake up in the morning dreaming of a Parkinson's free world, when a Nobel Prize is so shiny.
In the blue corner, we have the RWCHJ. Their fear is the displacement of steadfast ideals based around creationism. If we start proving that God was "at best, and underachiever" then he doesn't really need to be so powerful anymore. What will happen to Vatican PLC? Long term growth prospects in the Euro region are weak. Africa, here we come. David Koresh's people would also be disappointed. Why would do need a laboratory, when we have a Saviour?
In the middle, we have a largely apathetic horde or individuals, whose health concerns are more mundane. How can I improve my diet, when 90% of the food out there is rubbish? How can I get fit when I spend all day at work? How can I get decent healthcare?

I guess the government is supposed to plan for tomorrow, because most people are too stupid to plan for today. Consider the disaster that is personal financial planning. The overwhelming majority of people are destined to have a reduction in standard of living upon retirement. Ironic that they should chose to do less, when they have more free time.

Clearly, the stem cell research is going to happen. The RWCNJ can try to ban it, but they can't possibility halt it internationally. And that's what matters, because eventually, this stuff will be available, legally or not.

The RWCNJ do have one trump card. After the impeachment of God, on the
grounds that
a. he wasn't that great
b. he didn't stop the stem cell research
c. he incites tribal warfare
d. the scientists are now more powerful

There will still be failure in the system, the bigotry and fighting will continue, and they will sleep sound at night knowing that it was merely the essence of humanity which was to blame for the strife in the world.
- posted by Daniel @ Saturday, May 28, 2005 0 comments

 
Music
Creating excuses not to exercise is simple. So I stayed at home, ate some prawns, and blasted some Pete Rock & CL Smooth. Favourite track: The Creator. Favourite Line: I pull women like a wisdom tooth. Favourite Laphroiag: but of course.

The day irritated me, largely because I managed to let someone get away with blue murder, and I didn't have to. My failing. At least i've learned. But now i'm happy again. Lots of good things on the horizon.
- posted by Daniel @ Wednesday, May 25, 2005 0 comments

 
But Miss!
...The dog ate my homework!!

Is now a valid excuse. Just got back from the pub to find the cat frolicking in a masticated litter of what was once correspondence from my solicitor.
- posted by Daniel @ Sunday, May 22, 2005 0 comments

 
Fear
A lesson from the other day; that if you're afraid of doing something, you should do it. Sober. Drunkeness removes thought, which encapsulates fear. Lose the drink, lose the fear.

I did what I wanted to do, but was too afraid to do, sober, and then, all of a sudden, not only did it go the way I wanted, but I was happy, comfortable, and one step closer to being me. The distance I placed between me and my alter personas did not make the heart grow fonder. Instead, quite the reverse occured.

Time to lose the schizophrenia, and become one (Highlander quote inevitable)

Despite being 2am, the introspection ends here. I found a diary the other day, from Uni days. It had some exam dates, and revision schedules. But it also had a ridiculous number of entries with names, quantities, dates and monies. Lots and lots of entries. In fact, so many, that between GTA and The Diary, I think my bum mark in the degree makes a little more sense.
I threw the diary out.

- posted by Daniel @ Friday, May 20, 2005 1 comments

 
Knowing
Someone asked me on Saturday:

"what was good about me, what is it that makes me me"
"I know"
"you mean you have a gut feeling, and you go with it"
"no, not gut. I just know"

What I mean by this is that in a cross roads, there are two scenarios:
1. the roads are the same. This is what you use your gut for. You may as well toss a coin, it is down to luck
2. one road is scenic, but you will be late. One road is boring expressway, and you will be on time


In the case of 2., I know what road to take. Different answer each time, but I will still just know. This is not the same as being decisive. I am still indecisive

- posted by Daniel @ Wednesday, May 18, 2005 0 comments

 
Ronaldo
I am reluctant to admit it, but it is possible that footballers are appropriately paid. The economics of it is sound – there is a demand, and they, in their limited numbers, supply at an exhorbitant rate. So all is far and dandy in my book, although I am jealous that they guy who was even more of a retard than me at school is now earning infinitely more, and laughing all the way.

So, why is it, that with all this fame and glory, only Ronaldo has chosen to actually put his fame to a good use?

BBC News Article

I finally have respect for a sportsman. He is worthy of his fame and fortune. The fortune comes from exploiting addicted mentally dormant Westerners into paying ludicrous amounts of money towards tickets and shirts. If he flies out to Palestine, and gives a smile back

The cynic would argue that he is trying to raise the profile of Real Madrid in Palestine, and spin out some merchandising sales. But the kids he is waving at survive on less than $2/day. That means they will be buying competitively priced Chinese imports of dubious legitimacy, harming the business instead.

Why is Beckham not flying to Sudan and getting British school kids to raise money for HIV Africans? If he told them, they’d listen. Or if the stench of decomposing child AIDS victims clashes with his designer perfume, why not fly out to Munich, and start trying to building bridges between German school kids and British school kids? Even the Monarchy are calling for it:

BBC News Article
- posted by Daniel @ Tuesday, May 17, 2005 0 comments

 
Zajac Visits
Dammit, I keep failing to be able to write anything down on this one, due to distractions involving work, or BitTorrents. Time to black out the world and reminisce of the weekend that was; in reverse chronological snippets; a style stolen appropriately from a film of my generation, The Rules of Attraction.

Sitting on the grass, watching the world go by, is a fabulous way to steer through a Sunday afternoon. After that, go to a pub, and get electrocuted. I called the guy over to inform him that the unseasonal Christmas lighting had managed to burn me and cause my few remaining hairs to stand on end. A cursory apology, and a quick exit. The

Zajac bought a deep fried mars bar. I had a bite. I was drunk, and like so many things you do when you are drunk, you regret it. Then I called Toronto from my mobile, 3am Sunday morning, drunken on the way home, and yabbered about nothing in particular. In hindsight, she was trying to get rid of me for most of that conversation. But I’m sure it will happen again.

Post closing time, went to some random flat. I don’t know where the flat was, or who owned it, but he was a nice man, because he gave me whisky, which I felt that I needed.

Stopped in at a bar and someone was buying champagne. I’m not sure why, and I don’t really like champagne. After briefly pondering it’s intoxicating properties, I drunk it in parallel to the Leffe, thus negating any detrimental impact on my tastebuds.

Random flat with Goth and Hair Brigade people. Met what was quite possibly the most hospitable person I have ever encountered in my life, who presented me a cool beer, a floor and some music. It wasn’t what he presented, so much as the plainly transparent Namaste manner in which he did so. An exciting, leading edge sandal wearing commie type crowd whose side I could well be standing against at WTO riots. I read the same papers as them, I believe in much the same principles of society. But the coin has two sides, and I’m hoping that the America will be the undoer America one day. Rampant delusion consumerism plays into the hands of the East. Or perhaps these Nintendo obsessed music fascists weren’t political at all, and I am using this as an excuse to rant on about what I care about most. I am 99.9% certain that the latter is true. Anyway, I liked them.

Random flat with barbeque. And lots and lots of sausages. Quote: “Coming from a sausage country, I can say with authority, that these are damn fine sausages”. And conversation with career type people. It was picture perfect. The sun was shining, the cocktails were splendid, and the gas barbeque didn’t chuck out any of those nasty wafts of smoke that sooo ruin your evening perfume. An entertaining crowd, and I love barbeques. In fact, it made me decide that I am going to have one.

Massive lunch, large cowA few bars around town for food and beer, the weather seeming to palm its happiness onto the people of the city. Met up with Bell, and continued drinking.

A quiet town North of the city for a beer, by the bridges, at a pub astutely entitled The Two Bridges. A pint of Stella and a bottle of Becks, please. £2.45 please. “err, no, I’m paying for both drinks”. “errr, sorry, property rates are really expensive here, and so our beer costs more”. Complete confusion as she thought I was complaining about the high cost, and I couldn’t comprehend how two beers could cost any less than £6.

Begin Saturday with a massive fry up, to soak up some of the excess alcohol from Friday night. Then pretend to be healthy by walking around, up and down some hills. But mostly driving. Talked about the Ukraine. I want to go and see it so much – Turkey too. But no time for longer travels just yet, gotta keep milking the money from employment while I can still find it. Fresh air, sun is shining, time for a drive.

Friday night was simple. Remek pulled into town at 9.30, and we ate then drunk beer for the next 6 hours. This was fun.
- posted by Daniel @ Tuesday, May 17, 2005 1 comments

 
Energy. Once more

Here is something I dont fully understand, and am a bit embarrassed to say so.

Romina was attempting to prove, scientifically, the energy concept.

1. I Stand up
2. Leave left arm to dangle freely, right arm outstretched to the right.
3. Hold right arm parallel to ground, and attempt to maintain rigidity
4. Romina pushes down on right hand; outstretched hand holds firm, T formation remains.
5. I take hold of a mobile phone in my left hand, and once again right arm outstretched to the right.
6. Romina pushes down on right hand; outstretched hand yields.
7. I take grip of a carton of milk in my left hand, and once again right arm outstretched to the right.
8. Romina pushes down on right hand; outstretched hand holds firm, T formation remains.


Since then, we had some fun in the canteen, with Andrew, Dave and Dom. All tried this little experiment on each other, with an enormous deal of skepticism. Yet achieved the same results.

Eh? Is it time to start believing her?

- posted by Daniel @ Saturday, May 14, 2005 2 comments

 
Tentacles

I cooked something marvellous the other day, and I want to record it. Not that cooking good food is unusual, it’s just that I want to remember just how much I cook these days:

Shallots + Garlic + Mushrooms. Chopped fine & Fry
Squid. Chop and fry
Grapes. Chop and add to the mix.

Deliver something that a Cuban would not care two hoots about. (sic Scarface).

- posted by Daniel @ Saturday, May 14, 2005 0 comments

 
Being Mister Ordinary
That famous Duran Duran track: In Ordinary World a man yearns for nothing to be more than ordinary. Careful what you wish for. Saturday lacked traction ; Sunday lacked glucose. Twin engined go-kart-beasts, and a laptime of 1m03. A time which did not stand by either poles of rubbish or supreme. Just ordinary. And bruised.

Sunday lacked glucose. The 10k run in 50m40s, fit me snugly in with mister average. Just ordinary. And tired.

Stress: Half the battle is accepting just what is stressing you out.

- posted by Daniel @ Wednesday, May 11, 2005 0 comments

 
Desert Island
My question: If you could stuck on an island with a different person /personality everyday, who would they be? Answer: With the exception of the 24th December, where I would be in the company of Santa Claus, each day would be spent in the company of a Birthday Person. So, each day, I would pass the time with a person getting One Year Older. On your birthday the world shamelessly, yet without hubris, does revolve around you. So each day, I get to hear a different lifestory; first person narrated. Introspective, joyious, insightful, regretful or plain champagne delusional, the birthday has the greatest chance of boiling everything out of one's personality.
- posted by Daniel @ Friday, May 06, 2005 0 comments

 
The Election
I have a big mouth, so it's time for a cent on the forthcoming election.

Bullets, because I dont want to explain, just remember how I felt about it:

• Blair needs to get his nose blooded. A smaller majority will dawn the feeling that he is not morally pristine, and does not carry the understanding of the public.
• Howard is a joker. A self hating son-of-an-immigrant Jew.
• The mysterious 1M donation to the Lib Dems could have come from a pro-Conservative camp, attempting to steal Labour votes.
• All policitians are patronizing, sanctimonious self deluded power trippers. For this reason, nobody deserves my vote.

- posted by Daniel @ Wednesday, May 04, 2005 0 comments

 
Being English
Or just emotionally withdrawn?

A quick run around The Chair, in the rain, and the timing is improving. Head up to a cafe, and chill for a while before dinner at Pizza Express. I wander in late, delayed at the ATM, and grant a warm, generous, Hey, How are You? to Saba, conveniently our waitress for the evening. A big bad stare nailed me from all at the table, and it guilt drowned me, as I tried to interpret the gross social mistake I must have just made. Walk back, big hug, kiss, heart felt apologies and all was well. If I followed everyone into the restaurant, it would have been easy just to copy their greeting gestures. But, in the case of choice, I would have still prefered the more familiar greeting. So why didn't I do that in the first place?

The English are infamous for poor social graces, but my part upbringing does not excuse the behaviour. The feeling that stopped me, was almost certainly fear. Was I scared that she didn't want to reciprocate, or was I afraid to show her that I cared, or was I trying to pretend to myself that I didn't care. I guess they all distill to the same point. I do care, and it was foolish to pretend otherwise to either myself, or Saba.
- posted by Daniel @ Wednesday, May 04, 2005 0 comments