Email to:Longest thread EVER in blog history: SURGE On!
DO IT FOR HEC: JOIN THE SURGE!
http://2008.weblogawards.org/polls/best-australia-or-new-zealand-blog/
Credit: cranberries: flickr
LATEST message from KJ: The Ginger and Spider Men have just become my SUPERDOOPERSUPERHEROES! The springboard? At precisely 1:29 today I received a personal message from The Weblog Award’s Chief Marshall - the first he has ever sent……so he says, so he says……..
KJ, As you are well-aware, voting in our prestigious awards closes tomorrow. It has come to my attention that a blogger by the name of The Ginger Man continues to file a suite of posts on kerrie.jean.com – each magnificent but of extraordinary lengths. Are you aware that, as a rule of thumb, a standard post’s word count is between 40-230? Currently, The Ginger Man has filed a total of 5678098978987 words on his adventures (albeit remarkable) with Spidie. We have not come across anything even remotely like this before. In fact, The Ginger Man has just made blog history by a margin of 7865904325678 words. And we understand there’s more to come! In blogging terms KJ, you are persuing a very, very risky Weblog Awards strategy by continuing to post the TGM’s missives at such a crucial point. We thought it was only fair to keep you appraised….! Marshall-in-Chief, Weblog Awards.
Dear Mr Marshall,
Wow! Not last (and moving fast) in the poll and being the machinery for The Ginger Man to make blogging history! At ABC Radio National (in Australia, in Australia, in AUSTRALIA) we pride ourselves on breaking all the rules. If you ever see someone getting stuck into a Chicko Roll from the wrong end Mr Marshall, I can assure you…….she is from from Radio National, AUSTRALIA. Risky strategy????? NAH!
It is THE strategy…….
Mr Marshall – one more thing. I’d be getting IT to keep a close watch on that breathtaking piece of supposed tamper-proof technology that is the Weblog Award Headquarter’s server. It’s about to be the subject of another first for the blogging world - a bloc of two (illegal) votes for KJ comin’ right at it from the back bar of the beautiful Royal Hotel in the small Riverina hamlet of Grong Grong!
Grong Grong: Caring for KJ. Credit: RaeA.flickr
So, watch out, Mr Marshall! KJ
KJ: (Sigh) What a waste of time! Criminal….
So GO ON, tell the world that the SO-CALLED rules of the supposedly free wheeling blogging world mean NOUGHT to DIY botoxers, facelifters just waiting to happen and Gutbusters at breaking point……..
So…..business as usual…..
The Ginger Man and Spidie are still hard at work in the comments section, I am thinking of Hec (and what he’d make of the Gutbusters phenomenon if he was still around)…….and I’m off for a walk up the street to see if anyone’s up for a chat about the cultural history of the continual redefining of what REALLY constitutes a SURGE in the history of Australian polling. Back soon.
**********************************************************************************
OLDER Message from KJ: If you’ve already read the first instalments of the UNMISSABLE adventures of the Spider-Man/The Ginger Man combo go to the comments section where the drama is unfolding – and like how! If you’ve just come in on this….read the whole bloody lot. I am beside myself with pride….at St Francis College formals I was flat out getting TWO dances now I’ve got TWO men fighting for my dignity in the above awards. How do I feel? Very, very touched……(long time, no see!)
NO DOUBT ABOUT IT - THE SURGE IS ON! How I wish (do what I tell you skinny little bugger) Hec was around to see it!
**********************************************************************************
That Mr Bill O’Slatter (the KJ voting refusnik) was back under the cloak of daylight saving - speaking of COMPROMISES! Well, O’SLATTER I am many things (tatter, plane spotter, bon vivant, irrigation historian….) BUT COMPROMISER I AIN’T! And O’Slatter, here’s some late mail you may be interested in…..RIGHT NOW, I am the subject of a POLL SURGE….
(O’Slatter’s last missive) As the great philosopher MeatMeat (or something) said: I can do anything for you, but I can’t do that. I hope he was heterosexual. (KJ. You’re sick O’Slatter, sick!) I am always one for compromises so here it is. What if RN sets up its own weblog awards to award blogs of quality instead of this Webblog award yank nonsense?
Fare ye well, O’Slatter, fare ye well. I will waste NO more time trying to get YOUR vote which (at 7:19am Leeton time, Jan 12, 2009) would have brought me up to 205. As Hec (dad) always said: Nothin’ wrong with a bit of BIFFO KJ but ya gotta know when the game’s up……ya gotta know that KJ……..
BUT, do I care about O’Slatter anymore? NO I DO NOT! Because overnight I heard from Mr STAN LEE, Yes, Yes, Yes, THAT - Creator of Spider-Man! -MR STAN LEE. And if this doesn’t cause a KJ POLL SURGE my cheekbones aren’t my best feature, my (fantastic) cheekbones aren’t my best feature afterall!
SO STAND BACK….STAND BLOODY WELL BACK!….MR STAN LEE WANTS TO TALK….GIVE HIM A GO……GO ON, GIVE HIM A GO!!!!!!!!
Hi Spidie Fans, Stan Lee here.
I thought you’d be interested to learn that, yes, Spider-Man has agreed to assist The Ginger Man in his quest to plumb the dark and mysterious depths and climb the heights of the curiously misspelled Weblog Awards.
Strange that our hero would want to join in? I am sure that there are doubters. I mean who you gonna believe, me or Stanley Martin Lieber?
Spidie is itching to go, but he doesn’t know where to go.
As any reader of Marvel Comics knows this is not an unusual problem.
The Fantastic Four, the X-Men, Iron Man, the Hulk, Thor, Daredevil and Doctor Strange usually did not know where to go, but they got there, did they not?
Hey can I hear some of you saying this isn’t real?
Can I say hey back and mention that Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich has the same voice and personality as Springfield Mayor Joe Quimby in The Simpsons?
Dare I say that your Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, would feel at home in South Park teaching Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick?
I am not sure, however, Mr Rudd would approve of Mr Hankey. Mmmkay?
Spidie and The Ginger Man are even more real than The Bronx one-room apartment I lived in as a child.
They will be a Dynamic Duo as they climb upwards on the Control Tower of this Mysterious Election Machine.
Why would Stan be interested?
Well, Spidie fans, in 2008 I wrote the captions for the political fumetti book Stan Lee Presents Election Daze: What Are They Really Saying?
I like to demonstrate the hypocrisies of the politicians and militarists and their electoral mechanism. I hope this poll is not another example of fraud.
So, go, Spidie and The Ginger Man, go! Maybe you do not know where you are going, but go!
All of my heroes, of course, got their super powers due to an accident.
I am not sure how The Ginger Man got his, as he is outside my creations of reality.
I do know, however, how Kerrie Jean is the product of K-Force which was established on Corbie Hill above Leeton Cannery, the biggest food producer for the armed forces in the South West Pacific in World War II.
A giant lens was erected to capture ultraviolet light and other rays and focus them on Pineapple and other Fruits needed for our buddies at the Front.
It was an immediate success. Huge fruit was flown out from the airfield at Narrandera, and The Land Army women living in dormitories worked day and night on Shipments.
One Pineapple was so enormous that it took four low loaders to take it to Sydney, and then the Queen Mary to tow it to New Guinea.
![O Ataque dos Abacaxis Gigantes Mutantes [Attack of the Giant Mutant Pineapples] by Jim Skea](http://farm1.static.flickr.com/166/403863053_a7326cb239_m.jpg) |
Mutant pineapples. Cr: Jim Skea. flickr
We found that there were genetic changes in people. They ceased being hostile. They began to draw ducks on walls, smell the flowers, visit sacred sites, laugh incessantly at the sunrise.
The changes were not confined to Leeton. The New England Journal of Medicine has described the case of cartoonist Michael Leunig, born two years after the war’s end, without a hostile gene in his whole body.
I think that Kerrie Jean must be one of the post war babies affected by the K-Force Syndrome, which creates Super Powers like our friend Spidie has, but at the same time Makes It Impossible to Hate.
She’s straight out of Captain America, but despite the:
KAPOOOW! ZOOOOOmmmmm! WHOOSHHHH!
Nobody gets hurt, apart from sore ribs from laughing.
So, Spidie fans, I look forward to following your adventures. SL
Well, well, well – I haven’t felt this good since I won the (Age Seven & Under Section) of the Leeton Draw Your Dad Competition. BUT, I was working with the best cheekbones in the whole Riverina……still miss ‘em Hec, still miss ‘em…….now don’t work yourself up KJ……..JUST DON’T……NOT at this stage of the game.
As usual, would love to hear from you only if to take my fertile mind off things. Lots to talk about on this the THIRD last day of the campaign. What do you do to stop yourself self-combusting when you get worked up? Perhaps you love STAN LEE too and feel the need to put it into words for the very first time. Maybe you are still on holidays and are SO sick of your family, you need to put THIS into words – you desperately need to NAME names – for the very first time ever……or you just want to say hello before voting…….
SALINITY NOW!
Tags: Leeton, spider-man, stan lee
Prawn Cutlet Award
January 12th, 2009 at 9:20 am
Stan, you are indeed a Marvel !
Ever since I settled down with milk and a pile of broken biscuits after Primary I have been a fan.
Thanks to you I can think both locally and globally.
The example of Michael Leunig is good.
In his book, The Lot: In Words (Viking, Penguin 2008, pp 138-39) Michael recalls asking the writer John Hepworth where great jokes came from and who made them. Hepworth:They’re dreamed up by people in prisons.
Michael examines other forms of incarceration that remove or shut out those who offend the status quo.
He quotes Einstein’s notion that good ideas look absurd at the beginning.
Go Spider-Man ! Go The Ginger Man ! Go !
January 12th, 2009 at 9:22 am
POLL SURGE ON! POLL SURGE ON!
STANDBY – MORE HEAVY HITTERS COMING TO KJ’S AID!
January 12th, 2009 at 9:25 am
DECODE SOONEST STOP
ONPASS BS DESK STOP SWIFTY EYES ONLY STOP
RETURNED EXTOILET TO SEAT STOP DISCOVER MARVEL COMICBOOK STOP WHAT IS THIS DROP QUERY STOP NOTICE MAN IN FANCY COSTUME COME OUT OF TOILET STOP EXPLAIN SOONEST STOP OVER AND OUT TGM
January 12th, 2009 at 9:28 am
Breaking radio silence.
Where is Stan?
January 12th, 2009 at 9:31 am
We spoke. Roger. Out
January 12th, 2009 at 10:01 am
REPORT ONE EX TGM, DELIVERED EX DROP AT TRINITY
Walking back into Trinity College, Dublin, after so many lost years I felt like a sheepdog, its ears flattened with guilt and its breath smelling of rotten flesh.
To continue the canine simile, there were many academic places I had peed, scratched and fled, sometimes in triumph, often in failure. Such is life. The Hill of Beans Syndrome. Smiley said I was never the same after the posting to Casablanca and then saw the film.
Four centuries of academic history hung over me like a pall as I stood where the barrack for the big loser James II’s soldiers were once housed.
Nothing in the pocket when I fled to Bletchley. I felt like the Provost who fled in 1641 when the College had to pawn its plate.
History and the farts of the long dead are in the air: Marsh the orientalist, Dodwell the historian, Stearne the physician, and Molyneux, the correspondent of Locke.
Here I was a secret recusant treading the higher learning turf of the Protestant Ascendancy on a mission verging on madness – to break the code of a mysterious global network of unknown origin that is supporting the notion that a columnist for Rupert Murdoch is the best and brightest ‘Weblog’ – the spelling makes me shudder. Surely, it must be Web BLOG? I must ask Smiley…….
George Smiley of 9 Bywater Street, Chelsea, now retired to Trinity.
Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy – what am I? I wondered as I glanced towards College Green and observed a black swan heading into the east wind. Tinker, for sure. Or is it the Honourable Schoolboy?
I could have sworn I saw a blue and red figure behind that willow leap up the wall. Imagination…..tired, so tired. When did I eat? Must press on to George Smiley. Press on like a fugitive Jacobite.
Smiley was probably born around 1906 to middle-middle class parents in the South of England, and attended a minor public school and an antiquated Oxford college of no real distinction.
Still alive, and not through a miracle.
Yet he is, he says, and you can believe everything you are told in the Circus, he is a fellow of Lincoln College. Anything I know about Baroque German I learned from Smiley.
He and The Ginger Man are still alive and relatively youthful, as are many others from Hut 2 at Bletchley, through the Nazi Stem Cell Project we discovered towards war’s end.
Do you think for a moment we were going to share that with others?
There would not be room on the planet to sit down and have a shit if we had. It is both sad and joyful to have discovered an elixir.
Indeed, when I walked into Smiley’s study I found him much the same as when I last saw him in Bletchley.
He still has the cunning of Satan and the conscience of a virgin.
Dressed like a bookie, this short and fat man was cleaning his glasses on his necktie and reading a poem aloud as I walked in…….
Dos lebn shprost, dos lebn blit, farblit…Not German, not Goethe, but Yiddish:
Life buds, it blossoms and fades…….
‘Alter Kacyne, beaten to death by a Ukrainian in 1941,’ I told Smiley.
He beamed. His face, however, remained uncreased and his smile the same poofy grin that had charmed generations of undergraduates and those learning fieldcraft.
‘First rate, Markham,’ said Smiley. ‘Best photographer Poland ever had.’
He spotted the bottle of Grange under my arm, and I presented it to him.
‘Duty free airport security at Cunard Lingus very slack in these times- all part of the lowering of professional standards.’
‘Markham Fitzwilliam Darcy Murphy, you always were a surprise and a larrikin, no wonder they tagged you The Ginger Man.’
Smiley’s eyes glittered when I presented him with a Curried Sausages and Mash Pack from Hec’s Roadside Diner, College Green Road.
Hec’s security is not too bright either.
At Bletchley, Smiley would forego venison or pheasant and by way of demur would walk miles in The Blitz for a ‘snagger’.
Some things never change.
‘Surely you remember Hec?’
‘Of course, shut down Ultra and Enigma just so he could listen to, what’s that Australian horse race? Ah, the Melbourne Cup! Cricket or the opera perhaps, but a horse race?’
As Smiley tucked in to the ‘snaggers’ I asked him about former comrades.
‘Cornwell?’
‘Still at it – another Le Carré book out, those stem cells really are the goods, only thing Schickelgruber produced that was worthwhile.’
‘Blair?’
‘Slightly dead, old chap. Like a Monty Python parrot. Kicked off in 1950 just after writing Nineteen Eighty-Four. Anyway, Orwell was never privy to the Stem Cell Program in Hut 2.’
He passed his hand over his forehead. It was like a shadow crossing the Moon.
I told Smiley I wanted to know about another Blair, also a writer, but working for Rupert Murdoch’s Daily Telegraph in Sydney.
‘What about him?’
‘He’s leading a world wide Internet Café Poll and my client is struggling.’
‘What’s that, a fisherman’s seafood caff, oh, I see you mean, international computer communications?’
‘Yes. Who is running the Poll? They have no obvious address.’
‘Murdoch’s people always win polls – they invented them.’
‘How can I find what’s going on?’
Smiley smiled. He wiped his glasses, then his lips on his tie, reached into his desk and threw a rusty ring of keys to me.
‘The Keys to Bletchley. You’ll have to go back to the Circus. One more thing.’
Smiley eased himself back in his chair and clapped loudly.
A man masked by goggles, dressed in a head-to-foot, tight fitting red, blue and black jump suit leapt into the room.
He threw a rope with a hook and climbed up the study wall.
‘Spider-Man at your service.’
We would be off to Bletchley in the morning to solve the Weblog or Web Blog mystery, or at least get the spelling right……
January 12th, 2009 at 10:39 am
KJ,
You may not know this………..The Letona Cannery aided the winning of the war in the Pacific in another way. Cans of two fruits with Japanese labels would explode at unexpected moments – s……there’s a sniper in the vicinity! Exit to Tokyo.
January 12th, 2009 at 10:52 am
KJ
The Ginger Man is again lucid…..A Pulitzer Prize for his most recent expose?
All will be fine. Then again…….maybe not.
Shades of the Democratic National Committee burglary of 1972?
Dear Megsy….yes, it’s wonderful isn’t it! We are blessed to have The Ginger Man back so soon after THE TROUBLES.
Just between you and me, I don’t think we should mention Watergate at this stage…….not so soon after The Ginger Man’s GREENgate spin out.
Okay with you Megsy?…..KJ
January 12th, 2009 at 11:15 am
Hello Ex-Leetonite – I didn’t know this! But gee, you’re bringing back all sorts of memories which I really CANNOT afford to indulge in with this non-hormonally based SURGE on and everything……HOWEVER, I DID do three seasons on the two-fruits line at Letona when my life was not subject to a SURGE!
Every now and then one of ladies would shout: I’ve lost my wedding ring, I’ve lost my wedding ring….IT’S BEEN CANNED!
I got sick of it. One day I said: Why doesn’t everybody TAKE OFF their wedding rings when they come to work…..or just leave ‘em at home!
I remember being told something like this: Because wedding rings show everyone that you’re good enough to get a bloke KJ…..I really don’t think you’re qualified to tell us what to do…….
I said: Okay Judy, I just didn’t wanna see that bunch of CHIPS go into a tin….that’s all…….
January 12th, 2009 at 11:31 am
MSS FROM DROP AT CHOLMONDELEY’S NUN IN RED SHOES PUB.
OUTSKIRTS BLETCHLEY.
REX MOSSOP TO DELIVER REPORT SYDNEY.
ANOTHER DROP SOONEST. TGM.
Driving through Buckinghamshire the memories rolled back.
If Vera Lynn was on the BBC again I’d not have been astonished.
Which reminds me of how Smiley was discovered in flagrante delicto with his lover.
His wife: I am surprised.
Smiley: No, my dear. I am surprised. You are astonished.
We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when.
But I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day…………
Was she still alive? She was not part of the German stem cell program, Deutscherkellstemfahren.
Probably not.
She did not get the elixir like I did.
The old days. Darts with Tin Legs. Chess with Farzenheim. Bridge with Boehringer.
None of them stem cell candidates, alas.
As we moved towards Bletchley (no absinthe on this drive – indeed, this is serious business) I looked over at my companion.
He’d changed out of his strange blue and red costume and mask.
Spider-Man now looked like the sort of pleasant young fellow you would meet at an Antioch or Boys Brigade rally. Certainly not Hitler Youth. Definitely officer material.
I had been telling him how Smiley was such an authority on ancient Greek that his nickname at Oxford and Trinity was ‘Atticus’.
After the war I found him cleaning out memorabilia from Bletchley. His curried sausages and his Moroccan-type Beaujolais untouched:
‘Something wrong, Atticus?’
‘Never call me that again, ever!’
‘Why?’
‘They’ve made a ludicrous Hollywood film. What’s it called? To Kill a Honking Goose?
The main character is some solicitor type defending a darkie.’
‘So?’
‘He’s called ATTICUS. Atticus Budgerigar, or something like that.’
The name Atticus was never mentioned again.
I explained to the young man (he insisted I call him Spidie) how at Ultra we had broken the codes of the German Enigma and shortened the war.
‘It’s now a museum and open to the public, most of it. The Manor house is now available for self-pleasurers to hold conventions and the like. Since 1967 Bletchley has been part of Milton Keynes.’
‘Milton Berle?’
‘No. Milton KEYNES. Ah, you Americans!’
‘Oh, the Economist, we learned about him at College.’
I gave up. It was time to learn something about Spider-Man.
He explained that he wore the costume to cover his strange transformation when he had a ‘spider attack’.
‘Poisonous?’
‘No, I am not. But the venom has changed me so I can climb walls and jump from building to building like a spider.’
‘How arachnoid! Could come in handy at Bletchley, which is coming up on the horizon.’
January 12th, 2009 at 11:32 am
CLASSIFIED
YEO BIG SWIFTY DESK
EX DUN LAOGHAIRE DROP
REPORT TWO EX TGM, DELIVERED EX DROP AT DUN LAOGHAIRE
On the ferry leaving Dun Laoghaire I looked back for a brief farewell look at suburban Dublin and a glimpse of the green island I had loved so well and at times so unwisely.
Do red, yellow and brown make a man ginger? Or is it a blend of orange and green?
Does a liver turn ginger from absinthe? Silly questions for a man on a mission with an accomplice dressed up for a fancy dress ball or a pornographic film.
Mr Spider-Man, however, had already demonstrated his skills.
He had climbed up a tower, swung a rope and presto we were on the car ferry gratis.
Some Irish louts singing rebel songs jeered at S-M’s outfit suggesting he was queer (and why would that be a source for comment at either Trinity or M-16) so he lassooed them and swung them into the shallows.
Stan Lee is right. The boy has talent.
As we crossed the dark water I thought of Station X.
I reflected on Bletchley Park and its awful mansion, a mixture of Gothic and Victorian vomit architecture, and what happened there at the codebreaking establishment as codes and deciphers were broken at Ultra.
The Germans had Enigma and Lorenz machines.
They did not have Spellcheck.
They probably would have written Spellcheck like the Americans, or Weblog, instead of Spell Check and Web Blog.
I thought about Hughie. He shared my desire for absinthe.
The admiral, who bought the place for seven thousand pounds out of his own money so that Intelligence could use it, looked at me one night, and said: ‘Ginger Man, why is everything so Bloody Ginger?’
I said, ’I thought it was Bloody Green!”
It was a perfect cover for our operations.
Visitors would say they were ‘Captain Ridley’s shooting party’ or ‘The Trinity Singers’.
You had to be able to do the Telegraph crossword in under twelve minutes to get in.
I wondered if Mr Tim Blair of Sydney, Australia’s most popular (B) logger could do the same. Of course he could – the Sydney Tele puzzle takes one minute for a person with issues.
We have stayed silent about what happened at Bletchley. Its blueprints have been destroyed, the equipment too. But some of it remains. Enough may remain to solve the Weblog or Web Blog Awards Mystery.
Why was it called Station X? X is the Roman for ten, and it was the tenth station opened.
I curled up in a corner of the deck.
Spider-Man curled up his rope and did the same.
We are Bletchley Bound.
January 12th, 2009 at 12:03 pm
Bon Voyage Mr O’Slatter…..
January 12th, 2009 at 1:14 pm
DROP AT OZBARB-E-QUEUE BLETCHLEY. DELIVERY TIM BAILEY. SYDNEY
Bletchley Park. There the old girl is in the dewy dawn.
Mentioned in the Domesday Book in 1086 was Bletchley.
‘The Ginger Man’s good at dates,’ I am telling young Mr Spider-Man, or Spidie.
‘1014 death of Brian Boru, 1650 Catholic land owners banished to Connaught, 1653 Cromwell’s subjugation complete.
‘The Irish are good at dates. Very good.’
Spidie, however, is asleep, Must be all that climbing walls.
Before you can say Cryptanalysis, The Ginger Man has to his eyes the Zeiss binoculars he obtained from a Gestapo officer after strangling him by way of demur.
The sweep shows people all around. Would you believe that at this early hour there is even a, what’s it called?….ah yes, a barbecue. There are dozens of signs: Buy Bidgee Beef. Eat Leeton Lamb. Chinderah Chooks. MIA Mutton, Pork and Peaches.
Everything but Hec’s curried sausages. They must be Australians.
People no longer to be admitted have to say they are from ‘Captain Ridley’s shooting party’ or do the Telegraph crossword in twelve minutes.
Tim Blair’s Sydney Daily Telegraph victory party with Piers ‘Plowman’ Akerman as host will probably be held here. Chundering competitions is what Australians call them? The Cambridge-Oxford Varsity Line doesn’t run much now, but Rupert Murdoch can bring them in by jet or motorcade.
Akerman’s Blog (Shouldn’t it be Log if he is MC for the ‘Weblog’ not ‘Web Blog’ Awards?) is a certainty for next year’s Finals through this immortal paragraph in cyberspace:
POLICE feared Newtown was a time bomb: A radical culture had absorbed the first wave of vegetarian lesbians from Enmore.
A classic!
That’s what wins popularity.
The Poll Machine must be unmasked. Tonight at Bletchley.
But first, a Daylight Recce.
Look! There’s the window of the room used by Dilly Knox, John Jeffrey and Alan Turing. Great lover of absinthe, Alan. He used to say that after a few he became King Tut and could decipher the squiggles of a cockroach dipped in ink.
My goodness, wake up Spidie, there’s the building….home to Colossus!
It was one of earliest digital computers in 1943 to break Tunny, Jerry’s teleprinter on line. A huge bastard! Wonder if we can use it again? I have the keys.
We are getting some attention, Spider.
Pass me that small suitcase. Yes, open it. Yes, it is a nun’s habit. Yes, it smells somewhat. Hasn’t been used for years. Stay put, Spidie. Sister Mary Consumpta is about to do a Daylight Recce.
The Night Shift is over to you, Spider-Man……….
January 12th, 2009 at 3:11 pm
KerrieJean, the bon voyage was intended for the Bletchly bound. Moderate correctly please.
Dear Ex-Leetonite (cc: Mr Bill O’Slatter) I….I…..I……I……APOLOGISE!
The PRESSURE, THE PRESSURE……(steady on KJ, steady on……Hec). KJ
January 12th, 2009 at 3:23 pm
Decoded Sydney by Professor Aborensen…
TRANSCRIPT OF SWEEP OF BLETCHLEY PARK…..
SISTER MARY CONSUMPTA: RIGHT NOW. SYNCHRONISE WATCHES.
SPIDER-MAN: I’M GOING IN.
SISTER: I GAVE YOU A PERPETUAL.
SPIDIE: DOESN’T WORK.
SISTER: TAKE MINE. HOW DO I LOOK?
SPIDIE: YOU FORGOT YOUR CROSS.
SISTER: RIGHT. BLETCHEY HERE I COME. HAVE A REST. PLENTY OF ACTION FOR YOU TONIGHT.
SISTER: HELLO EVERYBODY AT BLETCHLEY. GOOD TO JOIN YOU ON SUCH A PLEASANT MORNING. WOULD THERE BE A FRIENDLY CUPPA GOING?
SECURITY GUARD: GOOD MORNING SISTER. YOUR FACE IS FAMILIAR, HAVE I SEEN YOU BEFORE?
SISTER: I DO NOT THINK SO. A DEAR LATE COUSIN OF MINE WAS HERE IN THE WAR. I WAS ONLY A GIRL. IT WAS BEFORE I JOINED THE SISTERS OF DIVINE WRATH. HE WAS IRISH.
GUARD: HERE IS YOUR CUPPA. ENJOY.
SISTER: THANK YOU SO MUCH. THE CUP THAT CHEERS! WHAT ARE THESE HUTS?
GUARD: HUT ONE WAS BUILT IN 1939. HUT THREE WAS FOR ENIGMA DECRYPTS, HUT FOUR – NAVAL INTELLIGENCE – OVER THERE IS HUT FOURTEEN, THE MAIN TELEPRINTER BUILDING.
SISTER: WHAT WAS HUT TWO? I HEARD IT MIGHT BE BUILT ON A SACRED SITE?
GUARD: WE ARE FORBIDDEN TO MENTION WHAT WENT ON THERE. ALL RECORDS ARE CLOSED.
SISTER: DO YOU MIND IF I HAVE A TINY PEEK? I SHALL NOT BE LONG.
January 12th, 2009 at 3:59 pm
(Decoded K. Windschuttle)
I was expecting the Guard to be shifty about Hut Two, the site for the Nazi Sexual Proclivities Unit.
This was the place where Intelligence gathered information on the physical and emotional appetites of people like Goering who had to have constant massages to alleviate the pain of his drug addiction.
They were true heroes. Until you have been painted purple and had the Naked SS dance around you to the martial sounds of Wagner you have had limited experience of life.
They parachuted into Berlin. Many, like the Fallatists Brigade, were never heard of again.
It was to be expected the guard would keep his mouth shut.
So did our Parachutists. They kept their mouths shut. They were not sniffer dogs. They were trained to bite and kill.
I hurried past Hut Two to the building behind it.
Here was the housing of Colossus, the giant computer.
I scurried back to Spider-Man and the car.
Tonight we strike.
The Weblog or Web Blog Mystery will be solved.
He Who Dares Wins……..
January 12th, 2009 at 4:27 pm
I’ve broken my holiday imposed silence to vote for you kerrie jean. But looking at the list of finalists, I’m disturbed that you have less votes than Tim Blair. You need to pay more people, bribery is perfectly respectable in web 2.0. So where’s the money? And then we’ll make you the best blog in the galaxy…………
Thank you Stan – I’m sorry that the poll has disturbed you. Currently, I have less votes than the DLP had the last time it appeared on the Federal Election tally board before going to Heaven! But tomorrow the REAL non-hormonally based SURGE happens! I hope you are having a relaxing break. KJ.
January 12th, 2009 at 4:50 pm
(Decoded by Ms Hemi Semi Demi Denko)
The fog after sunset settled on Bletchley like shame.
Surely they did not still have pea soupers? I thought the Anti-Pollution Act fixed that.
Perhaps not. Climate Change at work?
I remained in my nun’s habit.
If challenged, it would be Sister Mary Consumpta saying her evening prayers strolling past Hut Two towards the home of Colossus. If there is any violence I know where the Armoured Dildos are kept in the Hut.
Spider-Man was very restless.
Perhaps it was because I had given him so little to do.
He had changed into his red and blue costume and put on his goggles.
‘The venom is working again,’ said Spider-Man, his tongue darting out at a passing bug.
He had his rope with him, and it was seconds before he had it working with its little hook.
Stan was right. Spidie is full of beans.
Enough beans to fill a Hill of Beans.
Whizz…Spidie flew to the Control Tower. Whoosh…Spidie zoomed to the Clock Tower…Aieee, there he goes to the Water Tower..…Zoom, There goes Spidie to the Railway Tower…….Zipp…Spider-Man is hurtling through the air to Oxford and climbs up every steeple. Then wheeeeeeeeeee, Spidie is frightening people at Cambridge, and an aged don has a near-fatal heart attack when he sees him on top of the Library.
Whizzzzzzzzzzzzzz, and Spidie is back in front of the Colossus Building.
He begins to climb its wall.
‘I do not know if you have observed, Mr Spider-Man,’ I said up to the youthful hero, ‘but I do have, I do have (jangle, jangle) the keys from Smiley, and this is totally unnecessary.’
‘Sure, but it’s fun,’ said Spidie.
‘Only way to work off the venom.’
‘Bit like an absinthe hangover, I suppose,’ I replied.
A click of the lock, and we were in and beholding the 1940s mechanical monster, a giant covered in dust, pictures of Jane Russel and Churchill.
How could it be started?
Spidie climbed it while I thought about it……..
January 12th, 2009 at 5:52 pm
I took a sip of absinthe, the first of the day and watched Spider-Man zip, spin, ricochet, bounce, pirouette and go boing, boing, boing.
Those whom the gods wish to destroy they first send mad.
Spider-Man is sending me crackers.
We could not have sent him into Germany.
He’s just a demonstration model.
A barber’s cat, all piss and wind.
I mean what does he do but whizz everywhere?
Well, the dear mother, mochree, she did teach me to Try.
And Spidie is a Trier.
This reminds me of my old comrade, Mr Try Do, a Chinese national who was at Bletchley.
Anything you asked of him, he said, Try do.
Build me a nuclear weapon. Try do.
Get this absinthe stain off my jacket. Try do.
Get the Bear with Three Balls formula for an exploding aphrodisiac. Try do.
He and his wife run the Try Do Dry Cleaners, somewhere in Australia.
Try Do is a classic example of the argument of Chesterton, the dime store philosopher, who said, ‘If a thing is worth doing it’s worth doing badly.’
Wish Try Do was here.
January 12th, 2009 at 7:18 pm
It was with awe that I observed The Colossus, once our greatest weapon against the Nazis through cracking their code.
It could tell a technician everything from how to cook a schnitzel, wear lederhosen, listen to Wagner without kicking the cat, why Hitler was singular in the Downstairs Department, Goering’s favourite drugs, how many dildos were on issue to SS regiments, how to play the flugelhorn without farting – it was all there with plenty to spare.
The Colossus is about the size of three motor cars. Its dusty reels, still holding audio tape, looked at me like some dead Cyclops, cob-webbed, dirty and yet still so formidable.
I looked in the corner. Yes, yes, yes. There WAS a power point.
Yes, there was a plug for the monster.
But it was dead.
I put Spider-Man quickly to work.
His trouser belt and Spidie lassoo were made into a friction belt fitted to an old bicycle frame and a motor car generator.
Of course, he whinged. Whinge, whinge, whinge……
This was not a job for a Super Hero.
‘Keep pedalling, Spidie, we need POWER,’ I told him.
‘But the venom is wearing off.’
‘Shut up, please, young man and keep those legs moving.’
I should have kept an eye on Spidie, but the need for an absinthe was too strong.
One of the formidable capacities of The Colossus is its ability to tell the future through its Nostradanus 101 program.
It predicted the Battle of The Bulge, the date of the German surrender, the A-bomb and the demise of the Snood. Sometimes we laughed at it, but it was always right.
Why would it not predict the outcome of the Weblog or Web Blog Awards?
Could it explain why a lovely girl from Leeton, daughter of people who Helped to Fight the Jap and the Hun, was unable to overtake a columnist for a right-wing tabloid owned by Rupert Murdoch?
Why could not the ABC not act like the BBC in the War?
‘London calling. London calling. This is the BBC. The black swan is in the east wind.’
Our swan is having trouble like Vindication Air in getting off the tarmac. She needs VOTES.
I turned back.
Spidie had stopped pedalling.
He was on the ceiling.
‘Come down immediately.’
He did.
He let go of his precious spider rope and fell on his head on The Colossus.
Whizzzz. Brrrrrrrrrrr. Flick, Flick. Grrummmmm. Chuckachuckadachucka.
Errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Boom.
The red lights flashed.
THIS IS COLOSSUS. PLEASE ENTER. NOSTRADANUS PROGRAM.
I ran to the keyboard.
Question after question I poured into the Goliath.
The huge discs began to spin.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrm. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrm. Chuckchucka. Brrmmmmmmm.
It must have an auxiliary battery,
It had recorded all of the answers on its removable tapes.
‘Spidie, we’ve done it. KJ is saved from Humiliation.’
We both danced for Joy.
Alas, suddenly the lights went out. The red lights were off.
Therefore I am sending you by Urgent Courier the Colossus Answer Tapes.
Please let me know what they say.
The fate of Australian and international Cyber Communications might depend upon the Nostradanus Analysis.
Spidie and I are going to have a few absinthes now the courier has departed for Sydney.
The Nostradanus out prints should be fascinating.
What do you think the Weblog or the Web Blog tapes disclose?
January 12th, 2009 at 7:39 pm
Dear TGM & SM,
As well as learning Elvish in its two most popular forms, I’ve been also reading three Mills and Boon romances a day. From the 1960’s to present day blushes, I have discovered two secret base words which may assist you in your quest.
THREAD
FEATHER
Trust me. I’m Meg. You will unlock all.
January 12th, 2009 at 9:09 pm
(Breaking radio silence)
Dear Megsy,
SM & I are burned out. We have collapsed & will leave it to you analysts.
Thread? Feather?
Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor?
I have run Navajo Code through The Colossus.
What will emerge in the Tapes in Sydney?
What will happen on the Weblog, the Web Blog?
As Captain Boyle put it to Jocser, the world’s in a state of chassis.
January 12th, 2009 at 9:12 pm
KJ and Meg,
Pride and Prejudice will ever be with us, win or lose.
If loss comes we have to get in touch with our Yearnings.
Jane is so wise about such things.
January 12th, 2009 at 9:14 pm
Can Windows XP or Vista handle the outpourings of this giant Dinosaur?
January 12th, 2009 at 9:18 pm
Where’s Big Swifty ? Is he part of the Analysis team?
Or is he a mole who has turned?
You do not need betrayal at this point KJ.
Please tell me it is not true.
KJ: I have had many inquiries about the whereabouts – and state of mind of Big Swifty. Last time we spoke, he said he’d just finished the GrimALDI’s New Year’s Eve lightshow in Monaco. He was mentally and physically exhausted and said he was ‘just hangin’ – waiting, waiting for THE CHEQUE. Just quietly, the old BS didn’t sound exactly right on top of things. I think I said all the right things – respect, God-given talent, next big thing, buzz around town……
Then I heard someone yell: Give me my mobile back! Give me my mobile back…..!
And that was that.
January 12th, 2009 at 10:00 pm
I’ll be happy if Colossus decides that it is Web Blog, not Weblog.
It’s like writing alright or allready or tempry.
A blog is a blog right?
January 13th, 2009 at 9:02 am
(Drop completed via John Laws safe house)
The silent, youthful anguish was hanging there, inconsolable as it always is with young people. They are incapable of realizing they have years to ‘get over it’. The rest of us are playing after the bell has gone, well into injury time.
We did our best, Spidie.
Silence, then a little yes.
We’ve given it our best shot.
Uh-huh.
As Mr Try Do says, we have to try do.
Suppose so.
Spider-Man and The Ginger Man were sitting over cups of Earl Grey, surrounded by tourists, in the tea room of what once was the Officers Mess of Bletchley Park’s Station X.
I made a feeble attempt at humour.
Well, you might be an American, but you are English enough to have a hyphen, Spider-Man.
Silence again.
Something troubling…….?
Spidie had curled up his rope and packed his kit away. He was just another handsome young Yankee.
Then the dam broke.
You’ve got Kerrie Jean, I have no one.
I have WHAT?
KJ.
Let me assure you the Deutschland Stem Cell program has its limits. She’s young enough to be my grand daughter, and might well be for that matter. We were never a unit.
You mean an item.
This sort of talk is embarrassing. Next thing we’ll be talking about the Love No Bugger Understands. We Irish are never sentimental. You can never trust sentimental people. We kicked them out of Bletchley in the old days or kept them in Other Ranks.
I’m never going to get a girl. It’s the venom.
Come, come, young man there are black widows, funnel webs, daddy long legs by night and cuties like that waitress over there by day.
Ah, the anguish of beautiful youth. For an instant I was back in Dover with Her, looking down at the blue smashing the white chalk into foam.
Look, Spidie we have the Colossus tapes on their way back to Sydney to solve The Web Space BLOG Mystery. You’ve been a tremendous help. Stan would be proud of you.
The waitress was looking at Spider-Man. She really had her eye on him.
There was a phone call for Mr G.I.N. German.
Smiley here – how did it go? Silly sort of show, if you ask me.
We put it through Colossus, but the old girl snuffed it, so we have sent the tapes to Sydney.
Colossus? Colossus? What makes you think a machine can give predictions? I WAS Colossus. Whole lot of rubbish to impress Eisenhower. I left a little clue by calling the program NostraANUS. Why didn’t you ask me?
Colossus is you?
Yes, plus a lot of red lights and spinning wheels. Lot of bumf.
The cunning of Satan and the conscience of a virgin.
The line from Trinity crackled. There must be a storm in the Wicklow Mountains.
What did you want to know? Try some progressive logic……
The Poll is worldwide, it’s electronic, seems to be American technology.
What about the Hanging Chad and the Electoral College? Worked for George W. Bush the draft dodger, didn’t it? Isn’t there a Cyberspace Supreme Court?
This is different. It’s post modern.
Has everybody voted?
Most of them, I suppose.
What about the Palestinians? There are one and a half million of them in Gaza. You can’t tell me they are voting on their computers with white phosphorus bombs and shells killing and maiming them. What about the Israelis? A rocket up the arse is not conducive to democracy.
Smiley went on to explain how in Africa, Afghanistan, China there were many people who had been unable to vote for KJ, or anyone for that matter.
So, what do we do, Atticus?
Never call me that. I am not a finch or a budgerigar.
We were on the speaker phone, and Spidie chimed in. Wait for the SURGE!
So what does KJ say?
Simple. She’ll say what all politicians say at the close of a poll:
I AM WAITING FOR THE POSTAL VOTES TO COME IN.
The line went dead. Smiley’s curried sausages and The Guardian must have arrived.
January 13th, 2009 at 10:05 am
URGENT EYES ONLY
CHECK MR TRY DO OF TRY DO DRY CLEANING AND TRY DO INTERNET CAFE GLEBE POINT ROAD SYDNEY AS MAY BE COMPTROLLER OF POLL
TRY DO
TGM
January 13th, 2009 at 10:15 am
As Mr Smiley has pointed out, the Chad could be a Chance for you. If not that then’s always the Surge of the Late Postal Vote from Gaza and Jerusalem.
Some bloggers may not know the importance of the Chad in electronic voting.
Wikipedia:
Chad refers to paper fragments created when holes are made in a paper, card or similar synthetic materials, typically computer punched tape or punch cards. Sometimes chad has been used as a mass noun. Sometimes chad has been used as a countable noun, in which case it usually has had a regular plural chads. Recently, it sometimes has been asserted that the correct plural is chad, probably based on a misunderstanding of the mass use.
Chad were made infamous in the highly contentious 2000 United States presidential election where many of Florida votes used Votomatic punch card ballots. Incompletely-punched holes resulted in partially-punched chad, where one or more corners were still attached, a hanging chad, dimpled chad or pregnant chad – where all corners were still attached, but an indentation appears to have been made. These votes were not counted by the tabulating machines.
January 13th, 2009 at 10:37 am
EYES ONLY
TRY DO IS AUTHOR OF PENGUIN BOOKS
TRY DO BOOK OF STAINS
TRY DO HAVANA MOTOR MECHANIC HANDBOOK
TRY DO MARRIAGE GUIDE
TRY DO GUIDE TO REPETITIVE VOTING
January 13th, 2009 at 10:38 am
ROGER WILCO
TRYDO
January 13th, 2009 at 10:45 am
I am not concerned about clues on Colossus.
I am interested to learn that The Ginger Man’s middle names are
Fitzwilliam Darcy .
There must have been a copy of P&P on his mother’s bedside table, bless her.
Jane would have the answer for our Yearnings.
January 13th, 2009 at 10:54 am
I’ll be glad when the poll is completed.
A friend of mine who is a chaplain to News Limited became so fraught this week that on Sunday he baptised a child as Click Here.
KJ: I can identify with that chaplain! Last night, I secured a date (yes, I did, yes I did….!)
When it came to the business end of the evening (after a prawn cutlet dinner and quite a bit of Riccadonna), I was SO frazzled, SO distracted I just nuzzled into my suitor’s ear region, guided his hand and whispered: Click Here…….
Enough from me for now….KJ.
January 13th, 2009 at 11:10 am
Too many words, my wordy friends, and where’s the back story? Anyways coming back to the point: I present a conundrum for KJ
Which of the following on this multiple choice maths test is nonsense?
A. jfdhgahigajeoitgjaodig
B. JHASDFJKLASKJLJHGJAG
C. I never make compromises
Answer: They all are.
The essence of politics is sensible compromise. Note the qualification KJ.
Reference: “The Art of War”, “The Prince”, “On War”.
I still love you long time Missee KJ.
KJ: Mr O’Slatter, So, you ARE voting for me – but not every day as you are entitled to do. That’s very iffy behaviour, very iffy indeed!
January 13th, 2009 at 1:33 pm
My customers at Try Do Dry Cleaning and Internet Cafe say they trying to contact
http://2008.weblogawards.org/polls/best-australia-or-new-zealand-blog/
I say Try Do
January 13th, 2009 at 3:00 pm
Something very Strange going on here.
PsychU writes of a chaplain to News Ltd, implying that the Dirty Digger has contacts Upstairs. Jesus Wept in the Shithouse. They can’t pull that one – the oldest trick in the book. Last time I prayed (and I pray every 24 hours) I got a clear SIGN that the Big Fella is not on Blair’s side. A second, very clear SIGN said He was with the Lass from Leeton (despite that unfortunate incident with a Nun…circa 1968)
Bless You Miss KJ, and All your many Followers.
January 13th, 2009 at 3:29 pm
(Drop Alan Jones safe house)
Was it the air reeking of burned aviation fuel or the east wind blowing the plumage of the black swan that made The Ginger Man’s eyes moisten at Heathrow?
Here’s kiddin’ at you kid I told Spidie.
He had just startled airport security by swinging from the tail of a jet, then whizzing to the top of the terminal.
Kids!
If there is one thing the young require of us it is confidence.
Are we going to win, Ginger?
Well, we are certainly not going to lose, Spidie. Didn’t Stan Lee teach you that?
But what about Tim Blair?
The Daily Tele doesn’t matter A Hill of Beans, or its one minute crossword.
Does he have a secret weapon?
Well, his white cockatoo and Pit Bull terrier haven’t voted for him yet.
Do we have a chance?
Every chance, son. Every chance. Say hello to Stan, please Spidie. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
The young Spider-Man walked to his aircraft twirling his rope, turned and smiled into the sun, his eyes crinkling.
Goodbye, The Ginger Man.
Then he was gone.
The world belongs to the forever young.
January 13th, 2009 at 6:38 pm
Dear Man in Grey,
Good sentiments (vote now there is still time) although you are wrong. There has always been a chaplain at News Limited. Last one was the late Fr Madigan.
Plenty to confess there believe me.
Please your thoughts MIG, what’s in these tapes? Will we ever know?
January 13th, 2009 at 6:44 pm
Ms Meat RayJustjoakinge,
I knowing Mr Try Do.
They sent him to World Fiance Conferrence. He say Try Do.
Then off to Gymppos re Gaza, he say Try Do.
Alwats trying like yo……
January 13th, 2009 at 10:11 pm
Tim Blair has endorsed a transgendered rocket scientist…
http://blogs.news.com.au/dailytelegraph/timblair/index.php/dailytelegraph/comments/vote_for_the_brain/
It’s too much for me, I’m ditchin’ the step-ins, gettin’ a seven of absinthe and headin’ to the hydro pool to pretend it’s a jacuzzi.
January 13th, 2009 at 10:12 pm
Flowers are flooding in for a gallant girl who gave it all for the youngest and most delicious blogsite in this part of the world.
Do I hear The Seekers, do I hear the sound of a wobble board, do I feel the spirit of Slim?
It was like watching Harry Stackers of South Leeton (after playing one game of tennis) entering Wimbledon, or Eric the Eel from a landlocked African counry without water diving into the Olympic Pool, the Parramatta Bathtub Derby competing in the Sydney-Hobart yacht race.
KJ has followed in the tradition of Les Darcy, Gallipoli and Phar Lap – victory in a strange form.
Let the parties begin!
Enjoy!
January 14th, 2009 at 12:02 am
Pt 1. I am not voting for you KJ. Tough love means you don’t.
Pt2. That Zen moment was precious, even if you don’t know it. It means emptying your mind of everything including what is temporarily important to both of us. Don’t get Zen moments completely wrong, There are few Zen moments you will share with people in life.
Pt3. Both irrigation and global warming are profoundly important.
Pt4. Tomorrow will reveal what a fraud that award was.
Pt5. I wonder when Salad Orders will do a special on the Philosophy of War.
Hello newman…..sorry…..Mr O’Slatter. This is NOT a site for tough love enthusiasts. It is a site for those who love and ponder life deeply….when they feel like it. KJ
January 14th, 2009 at 12:59 am
I walked from The Albert Hall like a man with one cymbal, The Man Who Knew Too Little. Que sera. The future’s not ours to see. Que sera.
What will be will be.
Who knows what is in those tapes?
Will we ever know ?.
Perhaps what’s in those tapes will never be disclosed.
Perhaps as Smiley says they are not worth a Hill of Beans.
Maybe it is all just a bean hill, a Colossal Fraud.
Of all the polls and ballot boxes
Of all the computer blogging joints in the world
She had to walk in here
When I thought I was out they brought me back in.
It’s just a Hill of Beans
Inside they are warming up for the symphony’s crescendo
It’s too warm in there, too warm
I’m the Spy Who Came Out From The Warm.
Que Sera. What will be, will be.
We didn’t win and we didn’t lose.
But like in the Try Do Dry Cleaners & Internet Cafe
We Try Do, we try do.
WHY IS EVERYTHING SO BLOODY GREEN /
January 14th, 2009 at 7:30 am
Click ‘ere
Click ‘ere
Click ‘ere
CLICK ‘ERE
CLICK BLOODY ‘ERE NOW!
OOOOHHHWWWHAHHHHHH!
January 14th, 2009 at 8:52 am
Dear Megsy – it’s over…..it’s all over Megsy. Did you hear me?
It’s over dear Megsy: IT IS OVER.
And I’ll tell ya something Megsy….you are LINDT NOT CADBURYs Megsy, you are LINDT……LINDT all the way!
God Bless you Megsy…KJ
January 14th, 2009 at 9:24 am
Big slump in trade.
Can we have another poll?
Please Try Do
January 14th, 2009 at 9:37 am
“Pt5. I wonder when Salad Orders will do a special on the Philosophy of War.” http://www.abc.net.au/rn/philosopherszone/index/subjects_Unrest__Conflict_and_War_2009.htm
January 14th, 2009 at 9:40 am
Also the results are in KJ : I told you it would end this way.
January 14th, 2009 at 9:41 am
Hello there again Mr O’Slatter- how do you think I’m going in the POLL?
KJ
January 14th, 2009 at 9:58 am
Hello O’Slatter – I KNEW that! You’ve been keeping a very close eyes on things for a NON-VOTER! KJ
January 14th, 2009 at 1:06 pm
Mr O’S,
The Philosophy of War? Easy to understand. High level cluster bombs, kill as many civilians as possible because they are only human shields, either keep journos out or embed them, ring up speechwriters and TV presenters, contact editors and owners, and, of course, put Rupert Murdoch in charge of armaments and information
Oh, and buy a few historians and scientists who are not working on anti-climate change.
Start lots of pro-war blogs.
Be patient. If we build it, then the mugs will come.
How’s that for an advertising brief, Mr O’S?
January 14th, 2009 at 1:11 pm
Congratulations KJ….
You didn’t win and you didn’t lose.
All we can do is try do and keep Love in the air.
Love is in the air
Everywhere I look around
Love is in the air
Every sight and every sound
And I don’t know if I’m being foolish
Don’t know if I’m being wise
But it’s something that I must believe in
And it’s there when I look in your eyes
Love is in the air
In the whisper of the trees
Love is in the air
In the thunder of the sea
And I don’t know if I’m just dreaming
Don’t know if I feel sane
But it’s something that I must believe in
And it’s there when you call out my name
(Chorus)
Love is in the air
Love is in the air
Oh oh oh
Oh oh oh
Love is in the air
In the rising of the sun
Love is in the air
When the day is nearly done
And I don’t know if you’re an illusion
Don’t know if I see it true
But you’re something that I must believe in
And you’re there when I reach out for you
Love is in the air
Every sight and every sound
And I don’t know if I’m being foolish
Don’t know if I’m being wise
But it’s something that I must believe in
And it’s there when I look in your eyes……
January 14th, 2009 at 3:43 pm
As I linked Salad has discussions with important philosophers see the archived 2006-2008 shows. It’s not a glib argument , and nobody in their right mind is in favor of war. It’s a state that societies end up in. The more we understand of the philosophy of war the better position we are in to avoid , negotiate ceasefires or end it .
January 15th, 2009 at 8:11 am
I once asked Smiley what he thought about the philosophy of war.
He paused for a moment , wiped his glasses on his necktie and said,
‘War doesn’t need a philosophy. It is in a philosophical vacuum. You just kill people.
When philosophy breaks down we have war.’
Then he went back to his Goethe and curried sausages..
January 15th, 2009 at 5:26 pm
KJ,
I had fun following the polls and the marvellous adventures of TGM & Spidie. I especially related to TGM, when spying Spiderman fooling around on the ceiling, saying “Come down immediately.” Something I regularly say to several students.
Congratulations kerriejean, I’m proud of you.
January 15th, 2009 at 7:10 pm
Dear Meg & other Spidie fans, Stan Lee here.
Meg, I’m glad you enjoyed the adventures of Spider-Man and The Ginger Man.
I think Spidie enjoyed visiting Bletchley Park and the Colossus and climbing the spires of Oxford and Cambridge.
Immediately upon his return he climbed Princeton.
I had to say to him like you have said to your students, ‘Come down!’
I’d like to visit your school if that is possible.
Best wishes,
SL
September 10th, 2009 at 4:35 am
This has nothing to do with “The Longest Thread Ever” or any other threads that are in fact the longest ever. I am very disappointed.