Ridiculous Times

Far From The Marrakech Crowd

2014-09-23T10:15:00.001+01:00

The Koutoubia mosque stands at the end of Jemaa El Fna square, which itself isn't a square but two triangles layed point to point, or the shape of an eggtimer if you will.

Marrakech has been described as an assault on the senses. It's more a like a bombardment though as first impressions are of the world's largest open air asylum.

Relentless swarms of sellers, peddlers, charmers, fakers and beggars vie for your attention. Politeness and patience are spread thinly. It's not for the agoraphobic. It's not for the claustrophobic.

A week in Marrakech starts to feel like a month. Time to get out. To the mountains. And yet, even here there is a need to make money, albeit on a less industrial scale. Traps are skilfully layed. A road stop opportunity for jewellery, shiny rocks, magic beans.

The Ourika Valley was enchanting. I tried to act the goat scrambling up rock faces with inappropriate brogues. My reward was a cool jus pressé and a comfortable sofa in a perched rooftop café.

Perhaps the acid test of a place's charm is its liveabilty. Marrakech is not for me. It's an amazing place, best viewed from somewhere else...

Letter To Mother-In-Law

2013-10-16T16:53:00.001+01:00

I have come to the conclusion that you are indeed a vampire. If I were to hold a mirror up to you, you would see nothing, for that is how things appear to you.

Nothing is ever your fault. It's always nothing to do with you. You have nothing to be blamed for and you've done nothing wrong.

This inability to examine yourself is deeply disturbing. It leads to a feeling of invincibility, superiority and a complete detachment from any accountability. It gives you, or rather you allow it to give you a carte blanche for any behaviour you like, no matter how outrageous, unreasonable or obnoxious, for after all you are beyond self awareness unlike us mere mortals...

You are, in your eyes, utterly blameless in every situation and thus can confidently boast

"It's nothing to do with me."

"I've done nothing wrong."

"I don't see why I should suffer."

And yet in reality it's all about you... You've done your time, put in the hard work, given your service to humanity, and now, at your age, you demand your rightful reward. The world owes you a living and by god you'll take everything that's going. You'll make sure you squeeze every last drop of effort from those around you to wait on you hand and foot and attend to your every need...

And in return?

Well, you don't owe anyone anything do you? Why should you? How dare they suggest you actually care about anyone other than yourself...

No, you have it all worked out. You see, you know that people are not on your level of intelligence and guile don't you? They'll be easily fooled by a few sweet words of phoney appreciation and the odd plastic smile of compliance.

But you know differently. You know it's all a game to get what you want and you love playing this game don't you?

Except, the game is over now...

Your mask has slipped. The real you is on show. And it's not a pretty sight. In fact, it's repulsive.

You see, no-one likes a fraud. No-one likes a fake. No-one likes a person who is so selfish, so self absorbed that everything they do and say is designed to get what they want at someone else's expense.

Especially one for whom nothing is ever good enough...

"The day's half over..."

"I didn't get staying long today"

"Someone bought me this, I don't like it"

"I don't think I'm wanted"

And so on...

All about you...

No-one else comes on your horizon. Least of all your daughter...

Someone who has gone out of her way to look after your well being.

Someone who has sacrificed her time, effort, health and self to make sure your needs are met.

For zero thanks.

After all, that's what daughters are supposed to do isn't it?

Or is it?

It doesn't matter anyway, it's what you expect that counts, isn't it? How dare she expect any warmth from you back as her mother? After all it's her duty to look after you...

She shouldn't have to expect you to acknowledge or remember her birthday, surely? Of course not, you're nearly eighty. The brain shuts down doesn't it? Next thing you'll be forgetting your son's coming over on Thursday and you're being whisked off to Dublin to be wined and dined,

Over your daughter's birthday...

I'll finish now, as I've already wasted enough of my time as your friend, butler, chauffeur, cook, listening ear, entertainer etc...

You see, life is precious. It's fleeting. It's far too short to waste with people who sap your energy, who drain you without thanks, playing little games to get what they want all the time, all the while looking down their noses with a feeling of smug superiority.

People like you...

Ten ways to measure a successful night out

2010-10-20T13:10:00.000+01:00

It occurs to me there are simple, common sense signs to decide if any night can be deemed a 'success'.

Here then, in no particular order are ten of the best...

1. No one stabbed anyone in the eyes.
2. No one shit themselves.
3. There weren't any infectious diseases leading to weeping sores acquired.
4. Dissident factions didn't insist on you driving an improvised device anywhere.
5. You actually woke up the next morning.
6. There wasn't an impromptu visit from Satan.
7. Your body contained no visible tattoos.
8. Facebook page remains unhacked.
9. When you roll over you aren't greeted by the sight of your mum.
10. You don't have morning sickness.

Score yourselves as follows

1-3 This constitutes a fairly decent night out
4-7 Bordering on the mainstream - maybe you ought to cut loose a little
8-10 Did you even go out, or have you already died?

Seeing is deceiving

2010-08-26T20:20:00.001+01:00

Someone once said we should live everyday as if it were our last. I struggle with this type of thinking; it appears to make sense at first, but on closer examination is flawed.

If this is to be our last day, it will be incredibly difficult not to be maudlin, jaded and filled with regret.

If however, we approach it as if it were our first day on earth, then we can at least fool our minds into setting aside our preconceptions. Everything from the particular shade of blue (or grey) that is the sky is a wonder, novel, curious.

We learn to explore with fresh zeal, to examine in detail even the most mundane of our surroundings.

In short, we cultivate an awareness of both ourselves and our environment.

We learn to how to live.

New Beginnings

2010-05-03T16:00:00.003+01:00

And we're back in the room.

After a few weeks of unprecedented flux and form, things are beginning to settle.

My own ridiculousness has led to a parting of the ways with my wife.

She had tolerated my mood swings, outbursts and depression for 22 years to the day and deserves a chance at normality.

I wish her every happiness.

My wonderful daughters shall of course be here from time to time and hopefully experience a calmer, more stable dad.

Ridiculous Times is reborn.

The times they are a changin'...

This is the end, beautiful friend the end

2010-04-06T10:06:00.005+01:00

The F word's here and the f word's back.

This is my last blog.

I want to thank you for walking with me.

I've enjoyed your company.

I've tried to make you laugh.

Tried to make you think.

Provoked and maybe annoyed you.

But we can agree to disagree without falling out.

I am withdrawing from this and other arenas.

Life is worth living, but I am weary of failing.

Love.

Red & Black Shack

2010-04-05T06:49:00.002+01:00

Yesterday was the first ever public display of the Red & Black Shack.

And they loved it.

They came, they saw, they moved on.

After two hours we had sold nothing.

Then on Easter Sunday a miracle.

Someone bought a dreamcatcher.

14 hours after we set off we arrived home.

Chastened.

Final sales crept into double figures.

An overall deficit of around £30.

So much for us being out of recession...

Ridiculous World

2010-04-04T06:49:00.008+01:00

The eagle eyed film buff will no doubt recognise this scene from 'Apocalypse Now'.

I use it by way of illustration that the entire world is madder than Johnny Depp now.

A simple scroll down any news site should be enough to trigger a frenzied wave of island buying.

1. Girl 12, stabbed to death.

2. Mild mannered Eugene Terreblanche hacked to death over money row.

3. Teen Stabbed to death in Dublin.

4. U.S. girl sues for $1m after writing I love my friends on school desk, and trailed out in handcuffs

5. Four horsemen laid off in apocalypse redundancies.

6. Cowardly lion regrets comments condemning church over child abuse.

7. Couple arrested for kissing in public in Dubai.

8. Compulsory sex tests to be taken in all B&B's to avoid sneaky same sex rumpy.

There are literally thousands of other ridiculous things happening in the world.

As George sang,

'It's all too much'.

Who's Sorry Now?

2010-04-03T14:18:00.012+01:00

This grinning idiot is the Reverend Raniero Canatalamessa.

He is the only person in the entire world 'allowed' to preach to the Pope.

Does this make him ueber infallible?

Or just another con artist?

He thought it would be great deflection to compare recent criticism and justifiable outrage over the church's compliance, sanctioning and cover-up of sexually abusing children to the vile practice of anti-Semitism.

WRONG.

Jewish people and their leaders are naturally seething over this kettle calling the pot black, or maggot calling the pus white, depending on your sensitivities.

The church in that old nazi's country of birth has openly admitted it did nothing in order to protect its reputation.

One which that deluded head of the Church of England, Rowan Williams claims now lies in shreds, having 'lost all credibility'.

No shit Sherlock.

Is there anybody out there?

2010-04-02T14:21:00.005+01:00

Catherine Deveny, who says that atheism is 'like a frog in a sock', is part of a campaign being brought to the people of Australia.

Apparently nearly one fifth of people surveyed there said they considered themselves to having no religion.

Meanwhile in Holland, a Dutch cleric who wrote the book, 'Believing in a god who does not exist', has been allowed to keep his job within the church.

There's tolerance for you.

Turin, however, still insists that pesky old shroud once contained the body of Christ, even though it's been carbon dated between 1260 and 1390.

Tricky that, but trivial details for hardline 'believers'.

I've just come back from watching the film 'Clash of the Titans'. Those Greeks believed in all kinds of crazy shit, but it made for good entertainment.

Plus ca change...

When all around are losing theirs

2010-04-01T07:22:00.002+01:00

Let me begin by making this perfectly clear.

This is not me being flippant.

This is me being angry.

The man in question is said to be a witch by the authorities in Saudi Arabia. In other words he has some serious mental health problems.

For this, he is set to be beheaded (what a repulsive phrase). Who knows, he may already be dead.

He is Ali Hussain and is pictured above with two of his children.

My friend taught English in Saudi Arabia. (The country the U.S.A. loved to cosy up to as a member of its little 'Freedom' Coalition).

He was invited and after much soul searching went to a public execution.

On his way, however the car he was traveling in was stopped, searched and delayed.

On his arrival he was told it was over. The man in question had paid $6000 to escape his sentence.

His miss was his mercy.

Natasha Paton R.I.P.

2010-03-31T21:57:00.004+01:00

This is Natasha Paton.

She died in a coach crash.

17 years old.

I have 2 beautiful, wonderful teenage daughters.

Life is so fragile.

It can never be taken for granted, belittled or scoffed at.

My heart goes out to her family and friends.

Moments.

Cherish every single second.

What is that, chicken?

2010-03-30T21:02:00.004+01:00

Every night it's the fuckin' chicken...

So said the great Alan Arkin in 'Little Miss Sunshine'.

To which his son chides, 'Dad...'.

Then the comeback.

'I'm just sayin'. Could we please have something that isn't the goddamn fuckin' chicken'.

I'm beginning to feel that way about food programs on tv.

Mood food; romantic food; quick food; medicinal food; ethnic food; food, food, food, food, food...

Enough with the food already.

I'm stuffed.

And I want to be sick.

Deadville Premiere

2010-03-29T16:55:00.003+01:00

Last August a team of dedicated people assembled in Belfast to create something fresh.

Deadville.

The culmination of which arrives on Saturday, 1st May 2010 in the QFT at 6.30pm.

The bar was set high, in order to bring quality production values in script, direction, performance and all technical aspects.

This is a bleak story of apocalyptic proportions, following the release of a deadly virus and it's consequences.

People do whatever they must to survive.

No-one is quite who they seem.

Welcome to our nightmare.

Oh let the sun beat down upon my (gullible) face

2010-03-28T09:34:00.004+01:00

Kashmir.

Led Zeppelin.

The stuff of legends.

And, er, nonsense...

Apparently this spot is the final resting place of non other than Jesus.

He'd gone on a package deal after the little spot of crucifixion bother and ended up in India.

Rather oddly though, he failed to take advantage of the hippy trail in Goa and settled instead to get down with the Buddhists in Srinagar (rhymes with vinegar, I assume) in around AD80 or ACE80 depending on your beliefs.

Now the place is a must see destination to tick off on the Lonely Planet circuit.

Oh how the shopkeepers love it.

This week I shall mostly be saying this week I have been mostly saying....

2010-03-27T08:50:00.003+00:00

Taramasalata.

For some reason or other my role in Twelfth Night has been equated to Jessie.

I miss him.

Both the character and the notion.

We need more Jessies.

People who think outside of the shed.

Characters.

Individuals.

Those who do their own thing.

Bourbon biscuits.

You know when you've been Tango'd

2010-03-26T14:08:00.004+00:00

This is Nick Baker.

Nothing particularly interesting so far.

Did I mention he's a member of the B.N.P.?

Now I'm not equating the entire Orange Order with the B.N.P. however, the Grand Lodge of Ireland seems not to be saying too much over the little matter of him standing for election in his home county of Devon.

Nothing to do with us they moan, it's a problem for the Grand Lodge of England.

Nothing to do with us they say, our members are entitled to their political beliefs.

Of course they are, even if that includes the xenophobic, holocaust denying, gay bashing B.N.P.

The only thing missing from his fancy dress is the pointy white hat.

A Bitter Pill To Swallow

2010-03-25T09:10:00.004+00:00

News reports this morning claim chemists who object to dispensing contraception or the 'morning after' pill, will be allowed to refuse to serve people if it conflicts with their religious beliefs.

So under these new 'codes of conduct', people who are fond of the magic man in the sky theory of reality will deny those who don't and probably some who do, the right to choose how to live their lives.

The beginning of the end of religion and superstitious beliefs is now well and truly here. It is time to enter a new era of rationality and scientific advancement to put to bed ridiculous nonsense such as this.

Those who indulge in comfort blankets need to be persuaded they don't need them to survive.

Those who sell them, should be regarded as fraudsters, snake oil salesmen or simply deluded.

Nanny State

2010-03-24T09:07:00.005+00:00

Ah the joys of...

Smoking?

Nope. Not allowed. Bad for you. Bad for your kids, your mum, your nan, the barman, the kids you'd thought of adopting, the kids in your car, your colleagues, your clients and look what it did to that 130 year old Ukrainian woman, she's all wrinkly.

Meeting your mates on the street corner?

DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!

Erm,

Having an opinion and voicing it?

No sir, that would be contrary to Section 5 of the 'Thought Crime' Bill.

Looking sideways at a child who has fallen and split their skull open on the pavement?

WHAT ARE YOU SOME SORT OF PERVERT?

We the government would like to remind you the proles that we have your best interests in mind and that only we can protect you from cancer, terrorism, yobs or lazy bastards claiming mental illness is a real illness, I mean it's not like you've got a broken bone or anything.

The pound currently stands at 1.11 Euro, making a Euro 90 pence.

It has always stood at 1.11.

Visit China. Blow Your Brains Out.

2010-03-23T07:15:00.005+00:00

It has to be commended that Google is set to stop censoring its searches from one of the biggest potential markets in the world.

They intend to redirect people to a Hong Kong server in order to find out about Tiananmen Square or the dalai lama.

To hear people in the streets of Beijing speak only reinforces the notion that

1. People are genuinely programmed

2. Totalitarianism is alive and well.

3. They are shit scared talking on camera.

That said, the business still remains.

Until it's executed of course.

No going back

2010-03-22T23:24:00.003+00:00

Alas, it has come to this.

No more rehearsals, scripts or any other device to hide behind.

Tomorrow we begin.

With an audience.

Twelfth Night.

It has been fun.

And not so fun.

I'm with Mamet.

He loathes 'method' acting, describing it rightly as 'nonsense'.

No tricks or funny voices.

Invent nothing,

Deny nothing.

Damn you all to hell

2010-03-21T09:03:00.006+00:00

Calm down.

I haven't had a sudden relapse.

Hell exists only on earth, in our minds and our actions.

This is of course a reference to those criminals, degenerates and power hungry liars within 'the church'.

Under every stone they hide.

Their mealy mouthed, pathetic, holier than thou 'that was in the past culture' attitude makes me want to vomit.

Do people not see the corruption, the cover-ups, the hypocrisy, the lies, the bullshit?

Criminals and those who by association condoned these hideous perversions should not be able to hide behind 'faith'.

They should be jailed, ridiculed, abandoned.

Once a nazi,

Always a nazi.

Red & Black Shack

2010-03-20T08:44:00.005+00:00

What the hell is this?

Have I been hacked?

No.

I've been shacked. Red & Black Shack(ed) to be more precise.

The good ship launches at Easter in Castleward on 4th and 5th April.

We shall be there, in our Red & Black Shack, welcoming one and all to peruse our wares.

Wares, curios, precious things to entice to you accessorize, treat friends or simply cheer yourself up.

Do come along on Easter Sunday or Monday then. You can't miss us.

We're the Red & Black Shack

Welcome.

Come on in.

Radio Caley

2010-03-19T12:37:00.006+00:00

Yesterday I had the pleasure of listening to my niece, co-presenting Radio Caley's afternoon show.

www.radiocaley.com

This emanates from Glasgow Caledonian University Students' Association.

It was an excellent couple of hours banter between Hannah and her co-presenter Mike during their

3-5pm slot 'Spectrum'.

The sounds were an eclectic mix and I even managed to get Flotation Toy Warning's 'Happy 13' played via Facebook request.

Hats off for keeping me entertained for a couple of hours.

Not an easy task by any means.

Coming Home

2010-03-18T09:44:00.003+00:00

It has been four decades, but well worth the wait.

I have reconnected with my inner child and it is awesome.

For years I hid behind plastic smiles, forced politeness, feigned enthusiasm and tacit submission.

The medical profession will say this is known as an anti authority disorder.

I call it normal.

The connection was made steadily over the past few years, but only clicked into place this year.

I have ever since I can remember had a loathing of authority, especially when that authority is abused to put others down, be it in school, work or life.

Why am I telling you this?

The simple reason is I have had a reaffirmation of myself as an anarchist. I have always been one, I just managed to hide it away for self preservation.

No more.

No gods, no masters, against all authority.