Thursday, January 29, 2009

The Day before My Paycheck Came!

Sitting in my lounge at six twenty this morning, having breakfast, listening to the inane prattle of Christian O'Connell. A man that must bring hope to the moronic, inspiration to the undereducated, and joy to the truly banal. I almost bought a copy of his recent book, but it would have meant buying a new set of coloring pens. The only reason I really listen to him is because he annoys me so much I have to leave the house to go to work just to get away from him.

The toast is dry. No butter, that ran out a few days ago, no spread that ran out last month and I forgot to get some more. Actually “No Butter!”

Who uses butter nowadays? What with all those years of the margarine fascists telling us how bad for us butter is (salt, fat, and all the other things we dearly love to eat). Actually I believe there is modern research that suggests that butter is no better or worse for you than marge, but I have the habit now so am unlikely to change back. I suppose I could have put tomato sauce on it, I still have some of that left.

The tea, made with dried skimmed milk. The semi skimmed ran out days ago. The last dregs of any squash, the water just colored not flavoured by the addition. The little heat lamp belting out light and heat to keep the room warm for a little while.

Every thing I open, or look at, I think “Must get some more of this tomorrow!”

Everything is running down, or out.

Tea (evening meal, not drink) this evening is a stew of what was left of all the last stews I have been eating for the last few weeks. Every week I just add something else to the pot, veg, beans, meat (if I'm lucky), and cook it up again. This week I added a load of sausages. I must now stop myself from picking the best bits out in the morning whilst waiting for the toast to cook, thus leaving the beans and veg slurry in the pot, to come home to.

There it is back to the toast. O'Connell, me, the heat lamp, and the toast.

I think I'll have steak for tea Friday, with a nice bottle of red wine, and may even get myself a new game or some DVD's to watch (like I need more DVD's).

The day before my pay check came.

ps. yes the title is a play on the ABBA song title (sad I know).


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Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Just Smile

I posted this on PaganSpace.net.

There is an adaptation of a Buddhist practice that I use.

Laughter and smiling is very important in Buddhism.

The idea is, that if you smile (or laugh) you will feel happier.

So what I do every morning is force myself to smile for at least a minute to a minute and a half (the time it takes me to walk from my house to the other side of a small park on the way to work).

The principle is that by smiling your body actually begins to produce the endomorphins (not a doctor so don’t jump on my case if that’s the wrong thing) that help the body and the mind to feel happy.

This has been born out by medical research.

Also mentioned in "The Secret" as well.

It’s the yoga principle of the little wheel (mind) driving the bigger wheel (body). Like in meditation where you quiet your body, to quiet your mind. Here the principle is working in the opposite direction.

By forcing yourself to smile (mental activity) your body begins to respond in return.

Try it it sets me up for the day, and I assure you I am not a morning person.


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Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Of Childish Things!

On this day of all days I'm not going to write about Obama. Everyone and his dog are doing that today. Please don't get me wrong, I am perfectly aware of the implications. ‘Black man in the White House’. I do get it, But think everyone else will be having their word about it, so what is the point in me adding to the debate? 
 
Though it does occur to me (yes all right I couldn't resist it). I am put in mind of Margaret Thatcher. I greatly admire her for getting where she did, A woman Prime minister (in the UK), a great achievement that I don't see being bested in the near future (say a coloured Prime Minister. Say a coloured, lesbian, woman Prime Minister). That is as far as it goes, I despise everything Thatcher did as Prime Minister, and truly believe nothing worse could have happened to the country. She left the country with a despicable mess that we are only now beginning to pay for. Unfortunately British politics is a thing of short term goals, short term gains. The Conservatives still congratulate themselves about the state of the economy as she left power (any longer and we would have had to shoot her).The problem is we are only now receiving the backlash of many of her policies. The credit crunch is a direct result of Thatcherite usury and letting the financial sector run itself without Government interference (In my humble opinion, slyly kicks soap box back under table).
 
So enough about not writing about politics.
 
What I actually want to write about are two people. Actually two programmes I watched On television last night about two people.
 
The first is Oliver Postgate.
 
Ashamed as I am I have to admit it, until his death I did not really know about this man. Amazed as I am how much he actually touched my life (my childhood particularly) through such classics as ‘Ivor The Engine’, ‘The Clangers’ (my own personal favourite. I have the DVD), ‘Noggin The Nold’, and even to some extent ‘Bagpus’.
 
Why mention him now (and not when he actually died a few weeks ago)? Because of a quiet amazing occurrence last night. I was watching Charlie Brooker's ‘Screen Wipe’. This episode lambasting children's television. Much to my pleasure the usual heavy serving of bile and vitriol was forth coming from Mr Brooker as usual. Until the last five or ten minutes. Now this is going to seem needlessly sentimental (but what the hell!). Almost as if the whole show had been an excuse to include it, Mr Brooker then introduced the fact that whilst making this particular programme, Oliver Postgate had died. What followed was one of the most heartfelt, moving and beautiful eulogies to the man I have heard or read since he died. A lot of very poignant points were made by Mr Brooker
 
It actually left me with a tear running down my face, especially using the Bagpus mouse organ theme for the end titles.
 
The second person is John Mortimer.
 
Again, not having V+ (or Sky+) I am subject to the vagaries of the schedulers’ whim. So actually get home and watch TV the old fashioned way (i.e. just watch what’s on).
 
I have to say again I was very surprised. There was much I didn’t know about the man and this little documentary was very informative.
 
I was impressed by the gentleman’s ideals and the way he lived his life. Much impressed by his attitude, that if you are not enjoying life, just change it. As indicated by his three changes of career in his own life. Paralleled in my own life where I started out as an accountant (didn’t like that), changed to working in the retail catering trade (a horrible industry to be in if you are in the UK), and am in IT where I’m quiet enjoying myself (at the moment).
 
I was already a great lover of Rumpole of the Bailey but this just totally endeared the man to me and actually made me a little sad that I had not realised his wit and intelligence, even as a wheelchair bound seventy to eighty year old.
 
I was much amused by clips of his debate against the arch fiend Mary Whitehouse, over pornography.
 
Most of all I was impressed by his joy of life. His almost unending persistence and refusal to give up.
 
Two very interesting people.

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Try Again!

A while ago I tried to set myself the task of writing something every day (failed). But I'm trying that again.

Much as Charlie Brooker's "Screen Wipe" writers special said:

Just Write!

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