Andy's Glasses

Who are your heroes? Your real heroes? People you admire beyond all others. Or have admired, cos they can certainly be historical. Maggie Thatcher? Churchill? Mozart? Da Vinci? Paul Weller? Jeremy Corbyn? Isaac Newton? Donald Trump? Carl Marx? Groucho Marx?

My heroes are, in no particular order: Einstein, Glenn Hoddle, Taylor Swift, Charles Darwin, Paul Simon. There’s probably more. But I’m drawn to people who do things extraordinarily and way ahead of their time. And if someone attacks one of your heroes, it hurts you. You become very protective of them and try to defend them, or their memory.

So when I read the other day that AN Wilson, pompous history writer and arguably the most Godly atheist in the world, has written a scathing biography of Darwin, my hackles indeed did rise. I felt it. In my hackle-place. Not saying. And then I read his little ‘precis’ in the Standard lovingly entitled “its time Charles Darwin was exposed for the fraud he was” and my blood did boileth over.

Wilson accused Darwin of, basically, nicking an idea that had been out there for decades and using it as his own. That’d be evolution then. And it had been, in one form or another. A Frenchman called Lamark had an almost evolutionary theory and another Englishman called Wallace was about to ‘go live’ when Darwin finally agreed to publish ‘The Origin of Species’ to pip him at the post. Why did he have to be persuaded? Because Darwin, trained originally as a priest, knew that his ‘theory’ would blow the fucking lid off the whole ‘God thing’. At least it was bound (and did) cause massive problems for and in the church. Who weren’t placed to accommodate a theory of billenia with ‘God done it in 7 days’, and one of them was to chillax.

Darwin’s accomplishment was in stating a theory that is an unquestionable truism. That the more offspring you produce, the more your genes get to future generations, which then get to more future generations of their progeny. And if, whilst basically shagging everything that moves to try and impregnate (I’m thinkin’ ANIMALS here, but feel free to include your own family, they’re animals too), you have a gene that makes you stronger, faster, more beautiful, better plumage, sharper teeth, better vision, any possible advantage, then that advantage MAY get passed down. And because you are ‘better’ in that way, it may put you up the (literal) pecking order and you’ll get to reproduce more. Its just pure logic. And that’s what ‘survival of the fittest’, the most misunderstood phrase ever written, means. Reproductive ‘fitness’. Not gym workout fitness, nor, ‘cor, what a fit babe’ fitness. What made Darwin the genius was that he didn’t have the advantage of the word ‘gene’. It didn’t exist back then. He knew there was ‘a mechanism’ but had no framework of what that might do. So he guessed how it would work.

Wilson also blames Darwin for the Nazi’s ‘Eugenics’ theory whereby population is controlled qualitatively by selective breeding. In other words: sterilise all ‘undesirables’ and shag all the blondes quick. Which is a bit like blaming Newton for the dropping of bombs. Because if he hadn’t rationalised gravity it probably wouldn’t be there, right?

I don’t know why, specifically, Wilson decided to pick on Darwin. But now he’s upset me and that’ll… that’ll… I have no idea, but I’m not happy with him.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx

You kind’a have to look at the ‘big picture’ sometimes. Because things are connected. Its all good saying ‘3 units of alcohol a day will reduce risk of diabetes’ but it obviously increases the risk of liver problems, alcoholism, vomiting on the tube (if you choose ‘before breakfast’ as your chosen medication time).

Similarly with motorised vehicular transportation. Or ‘cars’ as the simple-minded call them. You can ban petrol and diesel because they’re bad things that pollute the atmosphere and create greenhouse gases and things, because you can replace them with ‘electric cars’. Which is why one leading manufacturer has come up with a slogan for his e-vehicles: “Less smog, more smug.”

Ok, that may have actually been me, but its not about that. Its about how you replace the 99% of current oil-burning vehicles with electric ones. Questions like ‘how do you charge them’? ranks quite high on the list. ‘Will the electric grid be able to cope with 500,000 Teslas all plugged in at the same time?’ Will charging be fast enough for motorway travel? What is the global impact on the massive change?

Details, details. The devil is in the details. Or is it: God is in the details? Whoever, but more details have come to light. Yes, my ‘source’ is the Mail on Sunday, so that immediately relegates it to ‘dubious’ or even ‘downright lies’ but it came originally from a tv documentary on child labour. In The Democratic Republic of Congo. Where kids as young as 5 sort through rocks to find cobalt. Other than lithium, the most important component in batteries for electric vehicles. And 60% of the world’s cobalt comes from the DRC and the industry is totally unregulated. But its not like you can just go to Sainsburys instead and buy the ‘Fairtrade Cobalt’, its not like that. So the kids work all day for about 8p. And the entire motor industry with its current obsession for ‘replacing conventional motors’ is driving this tragic industry.

So if you’re driving a ‘plug-in’ electric car, you’re a heartless fucking exploitative bastard with the blood of little African children under your accelerator peddle. If you’ve got a hybrid you’re just a tosser. Which is less bad really, but probably more smug. Its that atheist/agnostic metaphor again. Which is why I BELIEVE in petrol forever.

Happy Monday

A

Its all starting today. The football season is BACK!! Sky tv has now an official football-exclusive designated channel which won’t become the darts channel at 8 o’clock, or the world mountain biking championship channel at 02.15. No. Even insomniacs can enjoy football for 24 hours a day. Every day. Lovely. And it all starts today at Wembley (Spurs have lent it to them for the day) for the No-one Gives A Shit Cup. Used to be called the Charity Shield, the Community Shield, the Asda Cup, the BHS Shield (they stole the silver and replaced it with zinc, silver-plated), but no-one cares anyway. Its the team wot won the league (that’ll be Chelsea then) playing the team wot won the FA Cup (Arsenal). Meaningless. Worthless.

Yet tomorrow the press will be ‘convicting’ one of the managers. The losing one, to be precise. Even with the proper season a week in the future, the entire season for either Conte or Wenger will be assumed from today’s result. If Chelsea win Wenger will be right back in the firing line. Though having lived in it for the past 5 years, he won’t even hear the boos or notice the inevitable ‘Wenger Out!!’ signs that will be in the back pockets of half the Arsenal fans before they set off for the match. I Arsenal win then they’ll be attacking Conte for spending 130 million on ‘worthless’ players.

All of which is destabilising for the players. Fortunately though they don’t read newspapers. The foreign ones don’t read English and the British ones can’t. Though they all have ‘people’ to read for them. Who generally edit out any bits that may cause upset or temper tantrums and cost them their jobs.

Man City have spent 218 million on players last month, Man United 145 mil. Even Everton have spent 95 mil, but having cashed in 75 for Lukaku, their ‘net’ is modest. All the lower teams have spent 10 to 40 mil on several moderate players. How is this fair?

Never mind the quite ridiculous Neymar ‘affair’, which is nothing to do with football, everything to do with a tiny but obscenely rich and terribly evil nation, (how ‘bad’ do you have to be for Saudi Arabia to find you immoral?), showing the world… something. That its rich? That its stupid? That it just wants to make a statement to go with their other statement when they ‘bought’ a World Cup. That enough money will find the necessary corruption anywhere to enable it to do what it likes.

Qatar should not be allowed to ‘buy’ Neymar. Salaries of 300,000 pounds a week should never happen. And its not about ‘the money men’, its about those who rule the ‘beautiful game’ (phah!) allowing it to happen. The manage to ‘cap’ things in the NFL, the richest game in the richest, most capitalist country in the world. Why can’t Europe manage the same thing here? Its positively obscene that no efforts are made to ‘level the playing fields’. Its sickening.

Happy Charity Shield Sunday

A xxxx

“Russian inquiry robs voters of democracy”, said Donald Trump. What he didn’t say was which voters. I reckon he was actually talking about Russian voters as really they’d be the only ones to lose out if the US presidential election was to be ‘reversed’ or re-run or whatever would be deemed necessary if it should come to light that Ruski interference affected the US election. The American voters, if they actually did vote for that man in a true majority, don’t really deserve the right of democracy.

Similarly, a new film made by, among others, Joaquin Phoenix, tells you that eating one egg is worse for you than smoking 5 cigarettes. I’ve already cleared out the egg drawer in the fridge and filled it with Marlboros. The film is called What the Health and is all about ‘health’ and ‘diet’. But is actually the work of evangelical, radicalised vegans. No longer content with showing endless clips of cattle being slaughtered or chickens doused in chlorine (I really don’t care, I JUST DON’T CARE!!!!) with less than what you’d normally term ‘success’, they’ve now moved onto how eating meat and dairy will ‘kill you!!!!’ And I don’t care about that either. I’d rather die 5 years earlier having enjoyed every meal I’ve ever eaten than die the death of a million cous-cous at 108.

More importantly, its not like meat eaters only enjoy consuming flesh because of the pain and suffering of animals, that’s just a bonus (JOKING!!! Jesus, you’re sensitive…), but we don’t go round to vegans or even vegetarians (like being a foodie-agnostic rather than full-blown almond-milk-atheist) and try to persuade them to chow down on rare steaks. Nor do we criticise their greasy hair, poor skin and chronic halitosis on the grounds that if you don’t eat proper proteins and the right kind of fats, your fucking teeth will fall out and your fingernails crumble.

As it happens, I rarely eat steak (no pun intended), but do just luuuuurve a good hamburger, I eat loads of fish and lots of eggs. And chopped liver. Because I’m a human. Homo Sapiens. Not Homo Veganus. They’re extinct through muscle wastage and the inability to find mates. We’re omnivores. Not pulse-eating soy-milk-aholics.

Here’s a novel idea. Eat what you fucking want. As will I. We’re all aware of the pluses and minuses of every food known to mankind, we make our choices. To suit ourselves. Not for the benefit of Joaquin Phoenix, Gwyneth Paltrow or Donald Trump. Sound like a deal?

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

I love my garden. Its semi-classic, semi-wild and semi-lunacy (that’ll be the giraffe). Three semis. A mathematical impossibility but a lovely place to sit in the summertime. Takes a lot of care. Apparently. So I mow the lawn. That’s my job. Man’s job. Mel does more delicate things with little scissor things and special gardening gloves. I use bare hands. So I’m ‘one with nature’ as I kill it. Man to man. I do the lawn and I do the killing. Because sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. Tough love. Its a Darwinian world out there.

Ivy. That’s one thing that regards me as its personal ‘hit man’. Otherwise instead of a house, you have an ivy plant. It just takes over. So needs culling. I’m sure there are rules, advice, proper ways to do it. In the spring, just after the autumn, blah, blah. I just grab it and pull. Anytime. Don’t care. You ain’t having my fucking flowers, ya bastard!

And then we grew another little ‘problem’. Suckers, we call them. Really long, suddenly appearing very thorny branches that just suddenly appear. One weekend you have a neat bush, the next one theres 17 3-metre long, bright green shoots, about half an inch thick, covered in thorns. So I get my shears and attack them. Next weekend they’re back. And bigger, stronger, more thorny, more aggressive. Harder to shear.

Last weekend after our week in Malta I saw a few suckers hanging over a rather large bush at the back. And they were covered in blackberries. About 3 metres off the ground. I wasn’t so concerned about the blackberries themselves, (though they are absolutely gorgeous, and FREE!! you have to love nature) but the ‘sucker’ had now invaded, taken over and was displacing our very lovely and very old bush. Back, right. Behind which sits the shed that Mel & I built one sunday morning whilst the kids were out learning to pray proper. Must have worked, the prayer that is, because 20 years later the shed’s still standing. Only God knows how.

So I attacked the suckers. With long shears whilst on a ladder. And harvested about 6lbs of blackberries, most of which were in ‘past-slime’ mode, but some made it into the freezer. I removed literally yards and yards of horrible, prickly bush. And this weekend its back. Bigger than before. Blackberried up and challenging me. ‘Are you ‘ard enough??’ it says. ‘You want some???’ (as in violence, not blackberries). So tomorrow I’m going out there. With a saw. Big one. And only one of us is comin’ out of this alive.

Probably the bush.

Happy green-fingered Friday

A xxxx

Ian ‘Beefy’ Botham is incensed by the BBC. They interviewed him on the radio, ostensibly to talk about his charity but then changed the agenda. Beefy’s charity the Country Food Trust, was to be the beneficiary of about 10,000 partridges and pheasants that will be shot on his estate. All the dead birds, to the foodbank. Feeding hungry people. But the BBC’s point appeared to be that possibly people would rather watch their children go hungry than have them eat food, the acquisition of which is morally questionable. Undoubtedly a ‘first world problem’. And undoubtedly an over-paid (BBC, they all are) anti-countryside, left-wing middle class tart asking the questions. To which Beefy swore. She’s lucky he didn’t punch her. He’d been hi-jacked because killing animals is ‘bad’. Even if its to eat them, its all about sport. Animals shot for sport shouldn’t be eaten by decent people. Not sure about hungry people. They’re generally not so sensitive.

Stan Kroenke is not sensitive. He’s the dude wot owns Arsenal. And he has a new tv program in America all about big game hunting. Ok, its not all about shooting elephants and cutting the heads off giraffes to put them onto the front of your Cadillac. They also show you how to clean guns as well. Buy ammo. Make bows and arrows. Give advice about hunting knives. Useful stuff. But mainly its about the animals. Well, about killing them. For sport. For fun. Not such fun for the animals but ‘ITS LEGAL’. Helps with conservation of animals, don’t it? Ok, not with the ones shot, obvs, but the others. It provides income for the game reserves. Kill one lion, save 3. Unpalatable but that’s life. Or death.

We know the maths, we know the moral arguments. What I don’t know is what possible pleasure an individual, even an American one, can derive from shooting a wonderful, beautiful animal.

Bizarrely, I don’t have such issues about birds. Mainly because there are so many of them. Ok, and they taste nice. If you love ‘big game’ and you’re a stupid, rich fat Yank, just send a cheque for $25,000 to the conservationists. Simple. Why shoot any of them? They’re all endangered species. You love your wife, does that mean you want to shoot her too? Don’t answer that.

So my vote is this: leave Ian Botham alone, he’s doing good work for a great charity. And lock Stan Kroenke up for life. His motives are purely profit-based and he’s related to Arsenal.

Happy Thursday

Whilst the whole world is condemning President Maduro over there in Venezuela, one voice is still so silent that it has become almost deafening. That of Jeremy Corbyn. Jezza finds it very very hard to criticise any socialist, anywhere, anytime. No matter how many innocent civilians get killed, regardless of the rights that are removed, the politicians and press that mysteriously ‘vanish’ into the night, Jezza keeps his counsel. Comrades to the end.

And the end of Venezuela is nigh. Tragically. And absurdly. Because Venezuela is rich. Or should be. It has oil. Which it sells to America in barrels full. Millions of them. And yet the country is on the verge of bankruptcy. Inflation is at 700% (I can’t even imagine how those numbers work, so I’m just thinking ‘really bad’) and the minimum wage there now equates to £10 a month. And to cap it all, Maduro has now rigged the election, locked up the opposition and created a system where he will become The Leader. A Kim Jong-Un in Spanish. A dictator. Fortunately without the nuclear weapons, and even more fortunately without the silly haircut.

If America increases its sanctions to cease the purchase of Venezuelan oil that will be, financially, the end of Venezuela. Which may be an acceptable political state, but the people? Think of all those lovely, hard-working people caught up in this shit. Millions of them. Without much of a present, let alone a future.

Yet this is the ‘model’ that Corbyn admires so. The Socialist Dream, as started by his mate, Hugo Chavez and now taken to the next level (a quantum leap) by Maduro. This is what starts as a massive, unsubstantiated promise to the ‘young’ of a brilliant future, paved with numbers that don’t add up and an ideology that is fatally flawed, and ends in total financial ruination and a man (I’m gonna guess that he is not personally ‘suffering’ financially at this point) in total charge of everything in a land now devoid of free speech or any other democratic process. “Tax the Rich!!!” he yells, and everything else can be just given away virtually free!!!!

Someone should post the ‘Venezuela Story’ as a salient message to Corbyn’s fans. “One day Son, this could all be ours”.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

There’s a company in California that provides corporations with inspiration for future planning. By using Sci-fi short stories written by a hundred authors. Sci-fi becomes sci-fact. As it did with the ‘video-phone’. Which first appeared in lots of (generally really cheap) sci-fi movies and tv series in which a phone, nailed to a wall with lots of cords and cabling, had a little, but inevitably bulky screen attached nearby. And eventually became Face Time. Apparently the first ever viable submarine was built due to inspiration by Jules Verne’s 20,000 leagues under the sea. And James T Kirk (may the Lord rest his weary soul where no soul has gone before) used an ‘i-pad’. Well, some cordless, chunky ‘electronic clip-board’ thing the size of the New York phone book. But cordless. Upon which to issue his instructions.

These were all prophetic visions, as it transpired. They became reality from a fictional beginning.

I then realised that my own preferred driving style in fact came from Mad Max. And I started Tai Chi because I want to be The Terminator. Ok, we don’t use titanium skeletons so much, only in the strictly metaphorical sense, but with better energy. And I have a burning desire to shoot people with phasers, lasers and great big smart guns, then vanish in the mist as I’m ‘beamed up’. But we all have problems.

But we need a future. Lila needs a future. So we need a longevity that is assured. And the fastest way to do that (so the Doctors say this week) is to take statins. All men over 60, all women over75. I hate to imagine the cost to the NHS, because all of those people get ‘free’ drugs. And there are potential side effects. You get religious fervour. Bad breath. High risk of watching Love Island (fucking shoot me now). Ok, I made those up but there’s always side effects from long-term drug use so they need to be discussed. With the entire 15 million (guessing here) people in the country who are in those age bands. That shouldn’t cause too many problems for GPs then, should it. They’ve got loads of time. Which is why when I went online to book an appointment for a blocked ear, I was offered two (useless) options over a month away. I COULD HAVE DROWNED IN MY OWN FUCKING EARWAX BY THEN!!!! I shouted at no-one in particular.

You wanna live to 100? Here’s what you do. Eat food, nothing else. Drink only to excess. Never smoke when someone will see you. Have chocolate at least twice a day. Oh, and coffee. Loads of coffee. Fill a loyalty card every day. This may all kill you, but at least you’ll  die happy.

Because if the future is in fact going to be Star Wars, we’re all doomed.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx

We were in Paris the night Princess Diana died there. I personally had nothing to do with it. Honest. And as proof, I was never named in one of the 863 conspiracy theories that went round at the time. We were driving back from Disneyland and had to take a detour because the Peripherique was shut around ‘the scene’. But this was long long ago so we didn’t find out the news until we reached Calais and someone mentioned it. Diana had died. Car crash. Holy shit. And it was a tragedy. Lovely young woman, a mother, dying in such stupid and avoidable circumstances. I didn’t cry but it was horrible.

Then the world went totally fucking insane. Diana was instantly elevated to sainthood by public demand and literally millions of people queued up to sign ‘the book’, standing in line for half a day to do so. I signed my own book at home and saved the time. Diana was unlikely to read either so I didn’t think it too disrespectful. There was a never-ending crowd of sobbing chest-beaters around Kensington Palace. England went into hysteria mode, for weeks and weeks. It was, quite frankly, ridiculous.

And now Channel 4 want to air a programme that shows previously unseen videos of the Princess at her most pissed-offed. Charles was having the affair with Camilla, that he’d never stopped having. Diana was having affairs with numerous people herself. In fact with virtually every man in Britain except me. The Queen was unsupportive of her, Prince Phillip many still believe had some part in her demise. But that’s bollocks. It was a car crash. But ya never know.

Diana’s brother, the rather pompous Earl Spencer, wants the programme stopped. Too upsetting, too distressful for ‘the family’, blah, blah. And you know what, I agree with him. Because I’m worried that Diana-mania will resurface once more as a consequence of the film, the Royals will suffer as they did last time, hitting an all-time low in popularity, but obviously not Wills and Harry who are loved and only stand to be raised further by anything to do with their mother. But that insanity that gripped the country was pure loony tunes. And I don’t want it happening again.

There, I’ve said it. We don’t need such a programme. Show pro-celebrity golf instead.

Happy Monday

A xxxx

The football season is just days away now. The new one. New broom. All bets off. League table in alphabetical order. All to play for. Brighton have the same chance as Manchester City. Hmmm…

Other than the 500 million quid difference between the teams. Manchester City have a back four costing almost 200 million. 3 of those four arriving within about 12 months. So firstly, I want to know how the ‘financial fair play’ thing works, again? The structure that was implemented to try and ‘level the playing field’ a little bit. To stop teams funded by middle eastern black gold or tainted by Russian corruption from having an unfair advantage over ‘normal’ clubs? Oh, it is in place, and working… errr… quite well. Yup.

Neymar Junior is probably moving to Paris St Germain tomorrow, from Barcelona. To trigger the transfer PSG have to find over 200 million (pound/euros, no difference now at that level), with the final transfer fee reaching closer to 250 mil. Then they’re going to increase his salary. To over a million pounds a week. A fucking week. 55 million a year for five years. Another 250 mil +. Making Neymar ‘worth’ a half a billion pounds. Again another vanity project funded by middle east money, this time the Qataris. That famously footballing nation soon to host a world cup. If anyone is flying there by that time.

I don’t give a shit who buys who for what. Its all totally obscene and why we haven’t had some form of salary ‘cap’ or proper fair play regime in place is a mystery that totally stinks of corruption a the highest level and is poisoning the beautiful game.

Spurs total net spend this transfer window: -£68 million. We’ve bought no-one, sold a few. Notably Kyle Walker to Man City for 50 mil. Anyone else could have had him for 20, but its Man City/Chelsea, double it and add on more for good measure. They’ll pay anything.

And the only player that Spurs are apparently considering is Ross Barkley. Who, for some unaccountable reason, has a price tag of 50 mil. Although perhaps there is some accountability as that’s what we’ve just cashed in for Walker. Ross Barkley is a 50 million pound player like Donald Trump is going to make America great. He’s another David Bentley. We have the best midfield in the league (he says modestly, optimistically, hopefully) and although we need a bit more depth for our Euro campaign, we don’t need to pay 50 mil for a bench-warmer who is so full of unfulfilled promise and never lived up to any of it.

Honolulu has banned pedestrians from looking at phones while crossing the road. What a brilliant and un-zeitgeisty thing to do. People will be fined. Should be executed but its a start. Hats off to Hawaii. Though not for long, you’ll get sun-stroke.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx