Andy's Glasses

Hi, my name’s Andy and I haven’t watched a World Cup match in 5 days.

“HELLO ANDY!!”

I haven’t actually joined ‘Football Anonymous’, even though Mel put my name down. So I’m not on that particular wagon. Its just that I haven’t watched any game in its entirety since the competition began 5 days ago. It may be because the pain associated with watching Spurs lose (and Arsenal win) so many games last season was like some kind of ‘aversion therapy’. I’m scared to watch matches because they’re going to end badly. And make me cry.

Its also because I hate FIFA and what the World Cup has become. It was inevitable. So much money. So much opportunity to capitalise on commercialism, so little concern for the fans. Basically its just sooooo fucking corporate it sickens me. Pele will be turning in his grave. Unless he was cremated, then… well, he won’t be happy either way.

And then it started. Hah!, I thought, I don’t care. And Algeria drew with Saigon and Qatar beat New Zealand or Lithuania and Siberia had a nil nil draw, and I didn’t give a toss. Cape Verde drew with Spain and that did catch my attention. But not enough to have me running for some hilights.

And then last night happened.

I went to tai chi. Because its what I do. But I caught a bit of Kylian Mbappe. Who burst into my consciousness 2 World Cups ago because he was about 12 and was unplayably brilliant. Last night scored 2. Oooooh. And I saw Erlang Harland in his natural environment. Surrounded by big blond Norwegian geezers with funny names. And he scored a couple. More oooooooh.

But Lionel Messi played. In his natural environment, surrounded by Argentinian cheats, thugs and terrorists. Ok, it was only against Algeria but he was just brilliant. 38 years old and for 30 of those years no-one has ever managed to get the ball off him. And he scored 3. The most ooooooooooooohhh!

England play tonight, which actually doesn’t thrill me, but I ‘may watch’! In honour of the late Bobby Moore. Bobby Charlton. Bobby…

The ‘engagement’ is coming. Its slow. But really quite inevitable. I think in another life I was a WAG.

Come on England?

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

It’s my birthday. Today. It’s no secret, I’m (fucking!!!!) 70. I’ve lived a life that’s full; I’ve traveled each and every highway…

The best thing you can say about a 70th birthday is: I’m not dead yet. It’s just a lot closer than it was a few decades ago. Even someone as generally positive and forward-thinking as me just starts counting the years. The ‘good years’. I don’t count the ones involving excessive dribblage or incontinence, let alone losing the mental facility to be able to abuse people. So, ‘let’s look to the future’, is not as wonderful as it was, so generally you look to the past. The heady days when I was in the Boer War, landed on the moon, went out with Debby Harry, scored the winning goal for Spurs against Liverpool. Ahhh, the memories.

And if that’s not enough; yesterday was the 40th anniversary of the day I was made to get married. What’s known in my house as ‘the best day of Mel’s life’.

And to celebrate… I’m going to work. Well someone’s gotta do something round here, FFS! I should be away. On a beach. In the sun. (The nice sun, not the muggy, sweaty one we get round here). But we had to do that in half term so Lila and Joey wouldn’t have to go to prison for missing school. Kids are so selfish.

So I get on my lovely ebike and sail in through all the red lights. When people shout at me, I tell them ‘ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!!’ Like I do every day.

We’ve had lots of celebrations. Well, the holiday, that was special. Then on Sunday we went to Kew Gardens, and on the way, I treated Mel to lunch!! Ok, it was in McDonalds, but not just any old McDonalds. It was the one on the North Circular in Neasden. Next to Ikea. You can’t get more romantic than that. “Eat ANYTHING YOU WANT”, I said, “MY TREAT!!!!” Ten minutes later we’re back in the car.

So last night we went to Mel’s fave place. (Possibly my fave place too, either that or McDonalds). Place called Oka. In Marylebone. The only place in the West End you can still park easily and even legally. Fab meal, no parking ticket, all wonderful, home by 9.30. The perfect ‘date’. Saudi Arabia vs Uruguay!!! Bring it on. Or, turn it on, perhaps. For Mel.

And that’s it. Life, birthdays, everything. Don’t feel 70. Don’t know what I feel really. ‘Its only a number’. True. But its a much bigger number than it used to be.

Happy Birthday

A xxxx

This is me and Henry Moore. I’m the one holding the bottle. Mainly because this Henry has no hands. Poor soul.

It’s an exhibition at Kew Gardens. In… er… Kew. Which is not that far. But allowing for parking hassle and the North Circular Road, we normally take the train. Its easy. Relaxed. Reliable. Not subject to hold-ups, roadworks and traffic (fucking) wardens.

So we drove. I’ve just got the car back; it’s a sunny day, there’s nothing I want to do more than sit on the horrible, congested A406 with the top down, breathing in diesel fumes. Which is what we did. Mel said ‘Kew Gardens’, my mind went to ‘drive fast’. It just does that. Though it’s not a fast road. But there ya go. Or don’t go, very fast.

I don’t know who invented ‘Feng Shui’. But I never heard that word until 2003 when some tosser was trying to sell me… something and dropped the ‘F-S-bomb’. Ahhhhh, he probably said, but with this piece of furniture/garden gnome/toaster/whatever, it will enhance the feng shui of the space. And although I can’t remember the event specifically, I know I’d have been so wowed by this ‘new’ concept, that I’d have either dropped to my knees in a swoon, or head-butted the pretentious nob right where he stood. “How’s ya feng shui now, Tarquin?”, as he bled all over his white-pine, brushed varnish floor.

But the Japanese don’t have a monopoly over the concept. Just an obsession. The Japs have heaps of obsessions, some of them even legal. Although it originated in China!

And when you walk into Kew Gardens, you simply ‘get’ the whole ‘feng shui’ thing. It is everywhere. You start to amble and everywhere is so stunningly beautiful it produces a wonderful feeling of contentment and relaxation. Everything is ‘wild’ and ‘natural’ and yet was incredibly carefully placed, hundreds of years ago, to create calm and balance. What’s more, every single fucking leaf is gorgeous. Perfect. Shiny. Leafish. And there are quite a few there. Even the patches of stinging nettles look like they were created in a workshop by Monty Dom. And beside them, the most beautiful dock leaves, all healthy and un-nibbled and photo ready.

When you’re there, you’re not in any rush. Even if you were before you arrived. Ok, there’s a horrible queue to get in, with only 2 out of about 12 payment booths open. But we managed to jump that. On the grounds that I’m so impatient that I have to. And from then on all thoughts of having a tank to blow motorists out of the way, any lingering hatred for the judges who reckoned the Palestine Actionists were innocent after they destroyed a factory and hit a policewoman in the back with a sledge hammer, all the annoyance of Arsenal winning the league; it all just ‘goes away’ as you stroll along surrounded by nay-cha.

Happy Monday

A xxxx

Elon Musk has reached a new pinnacle. Not content with being the undisputed ‘most obnoxious person on the planet’, which is possibly why he’s so interested in other planets, if he can find ‘life’, there may be a chance to find some… something even more obnoxious. But for now; he’s tops. And yesterday, with the floatation of Space X, the Muskster, as I call him, because I’m not allowed to use the word c**t on these pages, became the world’s first Trillionaire. He is ‘worth’ in excess of 1,000,000,000,000 dollars. Not pounds, he’s only got about £150 in his wallet in quids. But a trillion.

So the chat shows this morning have been asking ‘should anyone be allowed to be a trillionaire?’

Which is a question as simplistic as it is moronic.

‘But is it fair that he has more money than the state of Texas where he (sometimes) lives when there’s such a lot of poverty there?’

More fucking morons. Slightly socialistic morons, but morons nonetheless.

Musk’s ‘wealth’ is his share holding in the companies he runs. He wouldn’t have a ‘quick trill’ in his safe. Even ‘a few bill’. It’s his VALUE, not his WEALTH. I’m not saying he’s poor, but his actual wealth is not liquid.

So why even ask? Without questioning the entire concept of capitalism. And even if we were to question such a thing; America, where he lives, doesn’t. Free market economy rules. And he rules that market. With his paper share-holdings. Which, even if ‘no-one is allowed to be a trillionaire here!!!’ rules apply, are not something you could simply ‘take’ or ‘tax’ or anything. Which the Corbynites, possibly even the Starmerites (who number 2: Mr and Mrs Starmer), and definitely the soon-to-be Burnhamites, would love to do. Because they live and thrive on the politics of envy. Basically: ‘if they’ve got it, why shouldn’t we????’ Even though ‘they’ work 27 hours a day 7 days a week and ‘we’ are on benefits.

And yet the stupidity of the question runs much deeper. Musk is worth a Trillion dollars because his companies are successful. Some of them. And he is personally responsible for the employment of tens of thousands of people. Jobs which were created by him and sustained by him. Why would anyone ever want to do anything to jeopardise that? That would be biting the hand that feeds.

Fortunately for Elon; he lives in America. Where they respect and revere success. Where they actually appreciate that if one man happens to be ridiculously successful, the spin-offs for greater society will be massive. More jobs, more spending, more taxes paid, more everything for everyone. It’s very Ayn Rand. (Read her, if you have several months to spare; it will be well worth it).

Only in Britain would they have phone-ins based on small-minded, neo-socialistic preconceptions about ‘all people being equal, as long as I don’t have to get off my arse and do a day’s work’.

Elon is unquestionably The genius of our times. A Michelangelo for the tech bros. Giga-Galileo. It’s not his fault that he’s so objectionable.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

As a celebration of my 70th birthday, various events have been planned. Not by me; we went to Cadiz, that was my planning done, these celebrations, on the actual birthday itself (like The Queen I seem to have more than one birthday; well, more than one celebration; same difference). So I spoke to Gianni Infantino and he’s given me a World Cup. Well, it cost me a few bob, in cash, in an alley in Dubai, but he arranged it. And it starts TODAY!!! Or, more accurately, tonight. Because of the time difference between Europe and America/Mexico/Canada, the ‘early’ matches will start at 8.00pm. The later ones; in the middle of the night. I’ve set my alarm for 3.00am on a nightly repeat. I simply can’t miss Zaire vs Cape Verde, Haiti vs the Faroe Islands.

I’ve bought 2,400 cans of extra strong lager. Went to Costco. Picked up 500 bags of crisps (cheese and onion), 420 packs of toffee popcorn and 50 tins of salted peanuts. I’ve created an app with Deliveroo and McDonalds which can get me three cheeseburgers in 10 minutes with just one click.

I’M FUCKING READY!!!!!

I would have gone, but the hotels charge £750 a night, the tickets are 3 grand each and the bus to the stadium is 85 quid. Each way. I don’t see that as in any way exploitative or cynically, disgustingly AMERICAN, it’s just commerce. Supply and demand. Fuck the fans. This is about making money and selling advertising space. Hence the term ‘first half’ will NOT be used in reference to the football. We’ll measure in ‘quarters’. It sells more ads. Every ‘hydration break’ earns $50mil in advertising revenue for the tv companies. (Infantini’s cut won’t be known until we see next year’s tax return).

But Infantini is really not just open to the highest bidder, like his predecessor was, that’s an awful thing to say. He was sent to ‘clean up’ the horrendously corrupt and vile FIFA under Sepp Blatter who sold Qatar a World Cup. And Infantini is strict. He’s banned the Iran flag, the ‘old’ one, the Shah’s one, from being waved in the stadia. That’s the flag of those deeply opposed to the Islamic regime. Who are sending the team. Who aren’t allowed to stay in America, because they’re at war. So the players are based in Mexico and only allowed into the US to play the matches, then straight back to Mexico. So no ‘opposition’ flags. “They’re political” and not football.

Whereas Palestine flags ARE allowed in stadia. Because, according to Infantini, ‘Palestine is recognised by FIFA’ (whatever the actual fuck that means). ‘Palestine’ aren’t playing in the World Cup, don’t actually have an international football team and haven’t been officially recognised as a nation by the UN. So flying a Palestine flag at a match between Scotland and Brazil is absolutely NOT political. No, it’s ‘football’. It’s… patriotism. Errrrr. Ok.

Wimbledon starts in the middle of the wonderful month of endless football. I’ve bought an extra tv screen. Had to move some of the beer crates, so I can watch both sports simultaneously. And at the same time.

England will do what England do. Which, generally, for those too young to remember 1966, is disappoint. But for purposes of World Cups, I’m Brazilian. As I have been since 1970. Which was also in Mexico. And was a ‘proper’ World Cup. A brilliant World Cup. Not only was it the best ever, it was actually ‘about the football’. It was not viewed first, foremost and above and beyond all else, as an exercise in rampant commercialism.

Mexico vs South Africa tonight. That’s a ‘big one’. They’re all big ones from now on. 8 o’clock simply can’t come round quick enough for me! So I’ve opened my first beer in readiness.

Happy World Cup day

A xxxx

I always thought that people from Northern Ireland had no faces. I felt sorry for them. Because whenever they were interviewed on tv during the endless years of ‘the troubles’ (read: ‘the period of civil war, bombings, murders, maiming and untold violence against their neighbours and against US!!!), they spoke through black balaclavas and wore black hats. I never saw an Ulster face until I was 42 years old and the ‘Good Friday agreement’ was signed. And then, of course, I thought they’d worn those masks because, frankly, they’re not a beautiful bunch. And I kind’a missed those masks, having to look at Gerry Adams ugly boatrace as he emerged from being an abject, knee-capping, pub-bombing terrorist into his role as ‘statesman’ with one swoosh from Tony Blair’s pen.

But in the interim, I’ve made my peace with the people of Northern Ireland. Basically, like everyone else in the UK, I just ignore them completely. When George Best died, I had no further use for them.

Then last night happened. Ok, we’ve had a little ‘previous’ in recent months. When imm-i-gray-shun becomes an issue. And yesterday’s was particularly horrendous. Not just the stabbing of a perfectly innocent man by some Sudanese nut-job, but the response. As it was a few weeks ago after another awful event involving refugees. And the response is, as always:

Grab your balaclava and hat; pick up the petrol cans, bring some old tyres; WE’RE GOING OUT BURNING!!!! This seems to be their default.

So they fish out the old hats, rip off the ‘Provisional IRA’ stickers and replace them with ‘Reform UK’ ones and go hunting asylum seeker hotels.

I’m happy to see these faces covered once more. But FFS, is this going to solve anything?? What we call the Tommy Robinsonism of the Province. Even though they invented it decades ago.

Meanwhile, back in South Hampstead, the car is almost ready!! (thanks for your concern!!!) For just one King’s ransom (I’d provisionally budgeted for two) I should be picking up later. The gearbox was, in fact, fine. The messages from the car to the contrary were the result of fucked up communications between the computer chips and sensors. So the ‘mechanic’, probably without using one spanner or getting any oil on his hands, re-programmed all the shit and its fine. Though I need a new battery. And a sensor. Oh, the joys.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

So who voted Donald Trump as the world’s referee? Who voted for him to be anything? Not me. But he’s just ‘told Israel and Iran to stop shooting’. And, surprise, surprise, they haven’t. Mainly because his ‘ceasefire’ has not included Lebanon so the Iranians are retaliating on Lebanon’s behalf. Well, not Lebanon exactly, but Hezbollah. Who occupy Lebanon and pretty much govern it. And, like Hamas in Gaza, have quite a massive support from the ‘civilian’ Lebanese people. So now, Iran are sending missiles to Israel, part of their ‘week long bombardment’ and Israel are bombing Iran, whilst simultaneously attacking Lebanon as well to destroy Hezbollah.

This is what Trump has been describing, all week, as ‘talks are going real good, really, really good; possibly the best talks ever. Ever…’

Israel, for many years, has lived with Hamas in the south and Hezbollah in the North. This is like England having ISIS in Wales and Al Queda in Scotland. People really don’t understand that when they talk of ‘apartheid’ and ‘building walls’ and non-crossing of borders. But even without the constant bombing that Israel endures (since long before 7 October), on both fronts, they had to prevent terrorists from entering their land, if possible. And by building walls around the West Bank and closing the borders at Gaza, terrorist attacks dropped massively.

Both Hezbollah and Hamas are funded and fuelled by Iran.

So Israel’s attacks on Hezbollah and now Iran are not part of this great “expansionist operation” that anti-semite conspiracists speak of, it is defending itself from existential threat. From Iran, who want Israel gone, via Hamas and Hezbollah, who share that same ideal.

Donald Trump is now caught between looking like a total tosser with no control over anything, having started a war he never wanted and can’t get out of, and further losing standing in the States where his popularity, even among Republicans, drops daily. And there’s elections coming up.

Worse still, this is ‘the most worrying day EVERRR!’

My car is in having some TLC on the ‘gearbox issue’. I couldn’t be more worried if one of the family (God forbid; pth, pth, pth) was in hospital. Mainly because they’re covered by the NHS and my car isn’t. What kind of Mickey Mouse health service are we running in this fucking country, FFS??? But we are self-funding. I’m, metaphorically, pacing the floor, chain-smoking. My baybeeeeee!!!!

Happy Monday

A xxxx

This picture is the standard ‘evolutionary progression’. There were many such images. Lots from the Victorian times put an unambiguous black man in the line-up, just before the white man who was always the ‘apex’ of evolution (such a phrase that has absolutely no validity; there is no ‘apex’; evolution continues, its what it does. If the world is still here in 1000 years people will all have USB sockets in their abdomens). Because science in Victorian times was the pursuit of rich white men. Like Darwin. If you were paid to ‘do science’ in the 19th Century, you were paid by rich white men to help them. And the presiding view was that black people were under-evolved white people. Egocentricity always places ‘you’ at the top of anything, unconsciously or otherwise.

They were wrong, obviously. Once Mendel came along with ‘genetics’, Darwin’s theories had acquired a mechanism for his brilliant theory. And showed that ‘men’ (I’m using this in the Victorian way to describe all the genders; don’t report me) are men. Regardless of colour.

You can’t find those images now. They’ve been cut. From science. From history. They’re unacceptable.

As are many things when judged in the wrong context. You shouldn’t judge ‘back then’ by standards of today. I have the same issue with slavery. The most awful, wrong, evil, horrendous thing ever. It is wrong now and it was wrong then. But it was not illegal. It was pretty much ‘state-sanctioned’. Locking up Galileo for proposing that the world was round was similarly ridiculous, in hindsight, but no-one died so it’s viewed with amusement rather than disgust. But basically; its is ALWAYS wrong to make judgments using today’s values on historical issues. They should only be judged within the context of their own time. Women couldn’t vote. I’m not saying that’s always a good thing, but that’s what it was. There was no DEI in 1900.

And thus to David Sullivan. The ‘co-chairman’ of West Ham United. Now the ‘ex’. Not sure who the other ‘co’ might be since David Gold died, but Sullivan has now ‘stood down’. Because a bunch of women have accused him of ‘historical sex offences’, over 30 years ago. When he was a ‘pornographer’. He published dirty books. Smut. Porn didn’t arrive in the click of a mouse back then, it came in magazines which paper shops kept ‘under the counter’. And the allegations against Sullivan are from the women who went to ‘star’ in his magazines and sleazy ‘movies’. And in his own words: ‘why would you own a sweet shop and not eat the sweets?’ There are no allegations of ‘rape’ or abuse, but, ‘looking back on it’ it could certainly NOW probably be seen as some form of coercion, that the boss offered ‘incentives’ to sex workers to possibly have sex with him, in return for a starring role. Which itself would be having sex with strangers.

I don’t like David Sullivan; he’s horrible. But I can’t help thinking that this is just cynical opportunism by judging what was probably voluntary behaviour then by today’s more obsessive standards. Jumping on the ‘me too’ bandwagon. Against a very rich man. Hmmmm…

I make no judgments. Historical or not.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx

Just one question to ask Elon (fucking) Musk and ‘the (fucking) office of Donald Trump’. Its this:
ARE YOU ‘AVIN’ A FARKIN’ LARFFF, OR WOT???

The Henry Nowak murder has reached across the Atlantic. Though, obviously, they over there don’t seem to realise that such news travels in both directions. So for every tragic murder they hear of, which has occurred here, we get to hear about the 947 which occurred on their watch, over there, (that’s not including the weekly ‘high school mass shooting’).

And it may be that our policing methods are less than perfect; that fall short of the mark on occasion, that result in tragedy now and again. But theirs? THEIRS????

There’s a big difference between dying in police custody after a stabbing and being murdered BY the police. Like George Floyd and so many others. We generally don’t arm our police. They not only arm all police but then introduce groups like ‘ICE’, the ‘illegal immigrant brigade’ who are, in the most part, just government-sanctioned hit-squads who go around shooting illegals and anyone who protests on their behalf. They seemingly answer to no-one.

Yet we have a ‘2-tier policing policy’.

For Trump to criticise our police is like the Taliban criticising our DEI policies. Its like the City of Las Vegas having a go at our gambling laws. Its like getting budgetary advice from the Saudis. Or getting European football strategy from Arsenal.

Trump’s comments that ‘this is how civilisation declines’ is just more Farage-esque hyperbole. I’m not saying that immigration isn’t a big problem for all of Europe, but not every problem is about or is a consequence of that immigration. Like the murder of Henry Nowak.

So, thanks guys, but we really don’t need your advice about policing. Though if we should ask for it, it’ll be for a combined advice to include how to arm everyone in the entire nation regardless of age, criminal record or mental state.

Anyway, I managed to cycle in this morning due to lack of rain forecast, and I managed to break 146 road traffic laws in one trip. That makes it more, kind’a ‘no tier policing’. The best type for us criminals.

Happy Friday

A xxxx

The terrible murder of poor Henry Nowak was indeed a… errr… a terrible murder. As opposed to a ‘good one’, or a ‘fun one’. Henry was killed, as are so many kids today, unfortunately, by a nutter. Anyone carrying around a big knife, with a burning desire to use it, not in an eating dinner way, is a fucking nutter. And Vickrum Digwa was a fine exemplar of the class. A knife obsessive. Of whom there are tragically many. He happened to be a Seikh. Many such nutters aren’t Seikhs. They come in all flavours.

Henry met Vickrum and was stabbed numerous times. Then Vickrum’s brother called 999 and reported that he and Vickrum had been subjected to a ‘racist attack’, by Henry. Who was by then lying on the floor dying from stab wounds. When the police arrived they found the 3 guys, with Henry writhing on the floor.

The police have no information, no ‘intel’ to work with, other than ‘a white geezer attacked some Indians’. There’s nothing ‘racist’ about that, nothing ‘two-tier’, just the ‘facts’ as they were given them at the time. They were lies, told by ‘the brother’, but that’s all they knew.

They ‘handled’ Henry terribly, ignoring his pleas of inability to breathe and that he’d been stabbed, which was wrong in a big way. But it was absolutely nothing to do with Henry being white.

I’ve never been a policeman, or a policewoman (I could have been!!! Don’t fucking ‘pre-suuuuume’!!!). But every day they are faced with scenarios which are not ‘cut and dry’. There’s ambiguity. They’re never sure who did what to whom. And they can only act in accordance with what they know and what they see. And they have to act instantly. Intuitively. It’s not science.

So Nigel Farage immediately pours fuel onto a tiny spark and accuses the police of victimising white people, giving the breaks to anyone ‘dark’, or imported, even if they happened to be born here. Because Nigel is a horrible, racist, right wing thug who happens to be in a suit and is allowed to speak in Parliament.

The police have a history of racism. Unsurprising when you get a group of essentially white, fairly right-wing guys and gels together. And that has been reduced over time to the extent that in some instances, there does seem to be a prejudice in order prevent accusations of ‘Islamophobia’. Like with the Rochdale rapist groups who nobody would ever dare to call ‘Pakistanis’.

But the Henry incident was nothing like that. It was a police cock-up, that’s it.

Farage calls his mate, Tommy Robinson, who gathers the troops, the fascists, the proper racists, the skinheads, anyone who is capable of hurling rocks at the police, and down they go to Southampton to protest against this ‘horrendous 2-tier policing and victimisation of proper, English white people’.

Precisely what Henry’s poor, grieving parents didn’t want. Their tragically dead son becoming a political football between the hard right and the sensible. Specifically what they begged not to happen.

But Farage is the opportunist’s opportunist and Henry was too good to ignore. Or even just show some compassion about. Not when you can whip up a storm of ‘poor little white boy’ protest, riots and yet more division. Like we need more fucking division right now.

Poor kid. Terrible tragedy. Poor police. Leave them alone.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx