I see today, that on one of the major events of the Christian calendar, that the Catholic church has pulled off the marketing achievement of the year. A woman jumps off a fence, misses the Pope, the Pope only hits the deck because a bodyguard jumps on him, and they've got the news headlines on Christmas day to the detriment of every other religion, particularly Anglicans.
Another story from the BBC website. This time, someone has been offended by a card in Tesco. What was so bad about it? I quote; "...a lot of my friends and other people I know, we are absolutely disgusted", so you can see it must have been incredibly offensive. In fact, Tesco's are removing the greetings card from the shelves.
Was it Racist? No.
Was it sexist? No.
Again, a quote; "The card shows a child with ginger hair sitting on the lap of Santa Claus, and the words: 'Santa loves all kids. Even ginger ones.' "
Now, I tread carefully. My wife has red hair. Red hair is fine. I personally wouldn't wind anyone up about it, and I know for a fact she gets irritated by people calling her ginger. Not offended, just irritated. It's not funny.
That's how I look at this card. Not funny. But offensive? Seriously? I saw a card with a fat Father Christmas stuck in the chimney, well surely that's offensive to fat people?
Again, quoting the touchy lady who complained. "If the card had been about an overweight child then the shop would have been shut down, and so would the people who made the card."
No it wouldn't. Unless the subject matter was illegal. So, my suggestion would be to get over it, and find something important to worry about. Like Afghanistan. Or cancer. Or poverty, homelessness, drug addiction, child abuse, men who beat up their wives (and vice-versa), crime in deprived areas, or one of the other million things that actually matter in the world. Because compared to those things, a card with a gentle dig at ginger-haired kids is easily ignored.
Here's an interesting picture, I took today whilst walking near where I live. I don't think it's particularly gruesome, but I can see some people wouldn't like this much.
I thought it important to show it though. I've never seen anything like it in my entire life.
A pile of dead moles is certainly not something you'll ever see outside BHS in Hull city centre, that's for sure.
I reckon there are three ways you can look at this.
1. You can be utterly disgusted with the disregard for the lives of animals, and complain loudly about the welfare of innocent creatures being slaughtered in this way.
2. You can accept that moles are a nuisance to farmers because they ruin meadowland with their molehills, hence reducing the amount of grass available to feed their stock during the winter months, and putting their livelihoods at some risk of being financially affected. They are stacked up for future use elsewhere, possibly falconry, or such like.
3. You can suppose that country folk are barking mad, and no other sane person in the entire world would even consider stacking up dead moles on a fencepost next to a public right of way, in this manner.
I fall somewhere between 2 and 3, although sympathise with 1 a little bit. If you stacked up dead rats in this way outside Tesco, there'd be complaints for sure.
I'll be off out again tomorrow, and I'm hoping to find some tap-dancing red squirrels. You'll be the first to know if I spot any.
Sounds like a joke, but evidently it's true, according to this BBC report. Swindon? Disneyland? No doubt the Swindon schoolchildren are all gagging for the exchange visit.
I've been to Swindon. I spent a week there on a work training course, and remember very little of it, asides from a few snippets.
The magic roundabout. Yes, we've all heard of it, the locals love it but to a visitor, it's scary as hell. I don't ever want to repeat the experience of driving round/across it. Perhaps the thrill-seekers would get as big a kick out of driving around it, as they would on any Disneyland white-knuckle ride.
The dodgiest nightclub I ever visited. Oh yes. Dodgier than Hull's former Tower nightclub. Even dodgier, I'd guess, than Hull's former "Henry's" nightclub... or maybe not. Still, though, very dodgy. Can't remember it's name. It was split in two, had the stickiest carpets in nightclub history, and drinks were included in the entry fee hence it was rammed. Although dodgy, still a good night, if I remember, although for some reason I decided to wander back to the hotel, on my own, in a town I was unfamiliar with, and at one point had to run. Fast. The clue was, the guy shouting abuse had ripped his shirt off and thrown it on the floor. Not sure what I'd done, but I certainly didn't plan a civilised discussion over tea and biscuits.
erm... that 's it. Actually, after a full week, the only other thing I remember about Swindon was the hotel, which was very nice. So there you go. Swindon, home of bad roundabouts, bad nightclubs and bad, scary people. There's a strapline for the Wiltshire tourist board.
There's one thing I do know, though. I don't want to go to Disneyland, and I'm certainly not keen on a trip back to Swindon. Hence, they probably deserve to be twinned!
In my quest to ensure Janet Street-Porter contributes to the local community, I've spotted this.
She's at the school motivating the kids. She's been entering animals into the show. I've seen her at a couple of local events this year. She's even been on Gordon Ramsay's show, plugging our dale.
Oh yes. Street-Porter is a fully-fledged local. Probably gets more involved in local events than I do, but then I've got no money and can't afford to get involved with bugger-all at the moment, which is a bit sad.
If I spot her again, be sure I'll keep you informed!
The banks appear to have won the great bank charges debate, thanks to a high court ruling that basically says the OFT aren't allowed to rule on whether charges are fair or not.
There are two points of view about bank account charges. The first is from the point of view of people who are careful with their cash, never go overdrawn, and aren't subject to charges. They argue that if, as banks claim, the charges they levy on unauthorised overdrafts and the like allow them to continue to offer free bank accounts, then why should they have to start paying a monthly fee on their account? Which is true, I guess.
The other view is, that in today's modern age, it costs next to nothing if the bank has to refuse a payment. They don't even send letters anymore, if you have a paperless account. In my experience, the people who are regularly running up charges on their accounts are either bad at finances, which is their hard luck, or more likely the low paid, who are only permanently running up charges because it's the charges themselves that are putting them in the red. If you are having financial difficulty, it seems a bit unfair that you are subsidising people who can easily afford to pay their way in life, by luck or judgement. Anyone can fall on hard times in the future, and we'll see if some of the smug 'well don't go overdrawn then' smart-alecs are so clever if their financial circumstances change. City centres the country over are populated with Big Issue sellers who probably didn't expect to be in a position of homelessness.
Here's a couple of examples. 3 years ago, I bought a telly over a 2 year loan, but accidentally gave the d/d details for a savings account with no money in it. That's my fault. The bank charged me because they refused to pay the bill, because there was no money in the account, and no overdraft facility. They took the charge from the very same account, making it overdrawn and incurring a charge for an unauthorised overdraft. The company taking the money charged me for the rejected payment, and because the d/d was set for the payment due date, they charged me again for being behind with my payments. That one error cost me £130 in charges, for a £40 payment, one charge being for something the bank did but wouldn't let me do, and one because there was no leeway on payment dates. Which I think is unfair. There's no way the cost to the banks was anywhere near that amount.
3 months ago, a payment took our joint account over it's limit. We were charged for this. The bank also rejected two direct debit payments, one of which was for £8. Total charges; £105. We put money into the account to cover being overdrawn - we'd already worked out we needed more money that month, but because the bank couldn't be bothered putting a letter in the post we thought we'd put the money in on time. We hadn't, and next month the exact same thing happened. Ironically, the only reason we went over our limit again, was because of the £105 charge. So, going £50 over the overdraft limit will probably end up costing us the thick end of £300.
I don't think that's fair. I accept it's my fault, but for one small error I'm penalised beyond my means - we haven't go £300 to spare. Especially when I know that the cost to the bank was limited. The bank, incidentally, has changed the charges on it's account to much less, as have others, and I suspect they didn't expect to win today's ruling. They did, and can now continue to take our money at will. And although I'm no socialist, the poor subsidising the better off is wrong.
The one thing it has done is make me more determined to end my reliance on banks, so today is the first day of my 5-year plan to pay off everything I owe. Then I can tell the banks to shove it.
Incidentally, I work for a bank. I like my salary, so will say no more than refer you to the famous words of Mark Twain;
"A banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining, but wants it back the minute it begins to rain."
I turned 37 on monday, as anyone on Facebook will know, and a week later I've not come to terms with it yet.
Which is odd. Some one once told me that if you got up this morning, it's already a good day, and he was right. So I got older, but that's to be celebrated.
Except that, as you know, I'm stuck in the past. My life ain't great at present, and every time I look at methods to improve this, people invariably require money to assist in getting out of the great rut I've lodged myself firmly into. So it's only to be expected, then, that I look to happier times, and happier birthdays.
Hm. Happier birthdays? I've been recapping some of the birthdays I've had in the past, and some have definitely being better than others. 18, I spent with family having a pub meal, which was pleasant if not exciting. 21, the family came round again, and everyone had a jolly time, I believe. 19, I vaguely remember the drunken, and exceptionally embarrassing (and ultimately, unsuccessful - unsurprisingly, really; I'm amazed I escaped without a slap, or twenty) attempts of making 'friends' with a work colleague. Oooooooh lordy, that still makes me shiver.
13, now that was a laugh. Bonfire night with some kids from school, highlights being 'Briggsy' stepping backwards onto a rocket and watching the sellotape-repaired projectile almost blow up next door's house, and the unintended (and deeply upsetting) destruction of my collection of painted Airfix WW2 fighter planes, in 1:72 scale. The day culminating in a gunfight with various toy guns, firing projectiles of disk/sucker dart variety.
17 was the first birthday I don't particularly recall getting excited about. I remember getting up, and not being fussed, getting ready and going out without any real celebration or inclination to do so. At all. Ironically, my 17th birthday was also the day the Berlin wall came down, so perhaps it's not surprising the entire day paled into insignificance.
30, I spent a weekend in a B&B in Wharfedale, which was fantastic, so much so we went back for my wife's 30th. Hers was more memorable, due to the whole of the dales being flooded; we almost didn't make it back to the b&b, but it sticks in the brain and provided some good pictures. 22. The university had organised buses to London, at £4 a head, so we could all attend a student march. So we went to London, and ignored the march to have a day in the capital. For £4. Most enjoyable.
And that's it. No other birthdays stick in the head, or stand out, sadly. Which suggests I'm either boring, or don't do anything exciting anymore, or both. Someone else once told me (a French teacher, as I recall) that life is like a bar of Galaxy. 8 chunks, 10 years a chunk, and that's it. Well, I'm 3 years off my 4th chunk, so I'd better start getting ready for 40!
Anyway. To end the week, and try and cheer me up a bit (!) here's a video. The obvious one would be Stevie Wonder singing his birthday greetings to Nelson Mandela, but that's boring and obvious and I'd much rather be reminded of Clare Grogan in her prime, so enjoy, courtesy of Youtube.
