Egyptian tycoon and politician Naguib Sawiris has come under fire for posting a picture of Mickey and Minnie Mouse in Islamic dress, sparking a torrent of condemnation on social networking sites.
Several lawyers have filed complaints to the public prosecutor accusing Mr. Sawiris of “insulting Islam”, a judicial source said, with calls on Facebook and Twitter to boycott his Mobinil telephone operator.
Just in the interest of press freedom. So you know what they’re talking about.
I’ve only been blogging in earnest for about eighteen months but have realised in that short time how we are being conned by just about everyone with the slightest vestige of power.
If we start at the so called top we have a prime minister who is so vacuous and wet that he can’t seem to hold any opinion for more than a day or two. As far as I can see, he has no idea how to run a country. All he is interested in is his image portrayed in the MSM, and to satisfy the Islington set.
We have unelected judges who are so out of touch with the people, which they as guardians of the law, should be protecting us from the criminal class, fail at every hurdle.
We have target driven policing that fails to protect the average citizen, but will meet it’s diversity targets.
We have 650 MP’s (Why for FFS do we need that many?), who when written to, will take at least a month to reply, usually with a quite inadequate response.
We used to have honourable citizens in the public services that would resign if they’d failed in their duties. Now all we get is the trite trotted out phrase “Lessons will be learnt”.
We have health and safety legislation that has taken away the onus of protecting one’s own persona, and replaced it with a cover my arse mentality by companies that can ill afford the red tape.
We have a political class that is enthralled by the EU, but does not realise that they are powerless to make any meaningful British laws that will be for the benefit of their citizens. (Again why do we need so many MP’s if the law is made in Brussels).
We have a quango attack on every slightest thing that might be regarded as a pleasure. Don’t smoke, don’t drink, eat your bloody five a day or else, and generally be a downtrodden serf.
We have green energy policies that will most likely see power cuts by 2015 due to the insane desire by our politicians bowing down to a Gaia worshipping minority (Yesterday the wind turbine output was supplying 0.8 percent of our energy needs).
Would it be too much to ask? Can I have the country that I used to know and love, which was full of freethinkers and go getters, back.
If there is any of the younger generation reading this. The ball is in your court. I’ve tried. It’s your turn now to save the country.
British rail?
Fishy?
Oh shit.
I wonder what his weapon of choice is?
I just hope you have a tight fitting glove.
I like aircraft. But…………………………..
That’s cheeting.
Over you go. extreme rafting.
Hold your breath.
My favourite
Lunch is dropping in.
FE has just received a letter from his energy provider appraising him of price rises in August. I wonder how many people actually look at the figures given and calculate the actual rises overall.
To begin with the increase in electric supply seems to be a very good deal indeed. A 1% rise for both peak and off peak periods. Not bad I hear you say.
But we come to the gas tariff. A whopping increase of 20%.
And that’s not all. The daily service charge for gas has gone up by 26% and the electric by a humungous 79%.
I wonder how much of that is made up in green taxes?
I’ll give it a month to allow the cartel of energy providers to set their final prices and then goodbye Scottish Power.
Anyone else had rises in line with this?
As you’ll know I’ve been away for a while. It’s been a busy two weeks fraught with house moving and hospital visiting. The house move went well, though it was a good thing that I brought my tools. What I can’t understand, is why take the curtain poles, but not the brackets that support them?
The Hospital thing was not so much fun. Master FE was admitted last Sunday for removal of his cancerous thyroid. The operation was carried out on Monday morning and we visited that evening when he was out of the recovery room, and back on the surgical ward. What a sorry sight to behold. Our strapping 6’ 1” son, barely awake with oxygen tubes down his nose, a drip in his arm, and drainage tubes from the site of the operation.
Now the good news.
We visited the following afternoon and were amazed to find him propped up in bed, completely lucid, no tubes and only some discomfort. What was even more amazing was to find him in the evening cross legged, surfing the internet on my laptop!
It was a while however, before he could be discharged as his calcium levels defiantly refused to stabilise. (A side effect of thyroid removal). It was thought that he would have to stay in till today. However a phone call from the boy on Saturday morning revealed that they’d got fed up with him and he was being discharged.
I’ve just phoned him and he’s doing the shopping in Sainsbury’s. Says he’s feeling fine , but hungry.
Today I’m driving back up North as my son is going into hospital to have his thyroid removed. I don’t know how long I’ll be up there, but he’ll need my help after the operation.
In the meantime if anyone has any fresh ideas of what I should blog about. Feel free to let me know in the comments here.
Have a nice day.
Sorry .... for the next 2 days I won't be able to respond to my e-mails...
A friend is painting the ceilings in my house.
I was asked to stabilize the ladder and give Technical advice
You know me.
I'm always there to help.
Also, do you think five ten coats is enough?
Wonderful what you can do with an i phone
Google Earth and iPhones are crucial for Libyan rebels defending the city Misrata from troops loyal to Muammar Gaddafi, according to a Times report. Meanwhile NATO pilots may be picking their targets from tweets.
Google’s satellite map combined with a compass app for Apple mobile phones and a mortar-ranging table help Misrata rebels shell their enemy with artillery pieces they have captured, British newspaper The Times reports.
Scouts with binoculars spot Gaddafi troops’ positions and report back. Thanks to Google Earth, the artillery teams know the exact distance between them and the loyalists. And an iPhone’s compass tied to the barrel with an eight-meter wire helps to align the weapon.
Oh and don’t forget Twitter has it’s uses.
Meanwhile the Canadian newspaper Globe and Mail says NATO is closely monitoring Twitter when picking targets for air strikes in Libya.
"We get information from open sources on the internet; we get Twitter," it cites a NATO spokesman, Wing Commander Mike Bracken, as saying. "You name any source of media and our fusion center will deliver all of that into usable intelligence."
I share this man’s sentiments entirely
I'm addicted to being able to drive into town on my own schedule. I'm addicted to being able to haul home a week's worth of shopping with two little kids in tow without having to wait for the fucking bus with eighty pounds of filled plastic bags in my hands. (That's disregarding the fact that I live out in the sticks, and the nearest bus stop is four miles away, which is one hell of a hike with the aforementioned two little kids and week's worth of shopping.)
"I don't give a shit what kind of substance I have to put in the tank of the minivan to feed that particular addiction. I don't care about oil. If my minivan ran on distilled cow piss, I'd fill up with distilled cow piss. If they ever come up with an electric minivan that goes the speed limit on the motorway, accelerates to motorway speeds in less time than a geologic epoch, and doesn't need to be recharged every fifty miles with electricity that comes from a coal-powered plant anyway, I'll gladly buy one of those and deep-six the old combustion engine. --
Quite.
I opened the door and entered the bar………………………..
What met my eye was immaculately laid tables serviced by waiters in Tuxedos, and waitresses in long flowing dresses, serving an elite clientele.
REWIND
What met my eye was a dark and dingy room with a haphazard arrangement of crudely made tables, populated by, to my naive mind, denizens of the underworld with two heads. Eventually when my eyesight became accustomed to the gloom, I realised that these weren’t two headed creatures, they were just two people of the opposite sex sharing one lap.
I then sidled over to an empty table and sat down, not knowing what the etiquette was in places such as this. Seconds passed before a young lady swooped down on me and said “ You want to drink, big boy”. All I could do was gulp and ask for a beer. (Tiger if you’re interested).
In a flash this vision of delight (If you’ve spent months at sea, a female hippopotamus looks like miss world), produced a pint with the words “50 cents, and you buy me drink”. (I didn’t put a question mark after the last sentence as it appeared to be an order). I didn’t dare refuse. The oriental maiden returned with her rather suspicious looking drink (coloured water) and without a bye your leave, plonked her derriere onto my lap. Imagine what that does to an eighteen year old who’s been away at sea for a while. I can’t understand why she wriggled for so long to get comfortable?
After a while of discoursing about Plato’s theory of the republic and einstein’s theory of relativity she asked me a question that I didn’t know how to answer. Was I a cherry boy? After months in the sun my skin was quite brown, and certainly not cherry coloured, so I just avoided the question.
In the meantime I’d realised that I was having difficulty hearing.Looking through the gloom I suddenly realised that I wasn’t suffering from some sort of ear disease, it was a local group wailing at the end of the bar.
I could go on, but needless to say, after far too many drinks that night, my sensible head took over and I left, never to return. (Till the next night).
Do you want to hear about bands, urine, stairs, and Ladyboys? If so you’ll have to wait a while.
