Andy's Glasses

Have you looked at Iran on a map? Map of the world, obviously, a map of greater Stevenage probably won’t show it. Iran is fucking massive. It is pretty much the entire north-east quadrant of the Middle East. It is 79 times larger than Israel (Alexa told me) and has a population of 90 million. 89.6 million of whom are really lovely, nice, intelligent people, totally repressed, bullied, controlled and harassed by a government they never wanted. Because it’s not a ‘government’ but an Islamist Ideological bunch of barbaric savages, sworn to the destruction of Israel. The remainder of the population are the government, the army and those employed to protect the ‘values’ of the nation. Like the ‘morality police’ who take great offence at the incorrect deployment of a headscarf, as being a deeply immoral act, whereas murdering young women somehow enhances this version of ‘morality’. Women have no rights there, men don’t have many. Unless they’re part of the ‘regime’ in which case they have total impunity. Western music has been banned there since the revolution. A once wonderfully cultured nation, heavily engaged in the arts, now wastes its time praying to the sort of God who approves of murder, death and warfare. The Ayatollah is a nob. Yet that understates his danger, not just to Israel but to world stability. He hates America, sees Israel as an American proxy, hates everything Western and his deepest wish, as for most religious leaders, is to have a nuclear bomb. But he can’t have one, despite Barak Obama’s attempts to facilitate such a thing. They have the missiles, already labelled ‘Tel Aviv’, they have everything in place, except sufficiently enriched Uranium. But being very pally with Russia and North Korea, that’s only a matter of time. There are very few people in Iran clever enough to build that bomb, mainly because Israel have been assassinating them along the way.

Meanwhile, in the absence nuke potential, they don’t have much else to bring to the party. Because they don’t fight their own wars and feel greatly empowered by sheer size and population, they haven’t built missile defences, nor do they possess any sophisticated arms capability. It is reckoned that their attack on Israel represented ‘their entire load’. It wasn’t ‘moderated’ as they stated, it was all they could do in the circumstances as they have nothing more to offer.

Unlike Israel. Which has enough for everybody. And better than everyone else’s.

I’m deeply torn between thinking, as I initially did after Saturdays night’s strike, that Israel should see that as a satisfactory ending. A failed missile attack, brilliantly defended and defeated. Leave it be. And thinking now that I want, not revenge, but a proper ‘statement’ to Iran.

And immediately, the world started to view Israel in a slightly different light from the one of the last 6 months in which all the virtue-signalling, apparently-liberal, moronic sheep collectively failed to read between the lines of the Hamas-led PR bullshit and lived only for shouting ‘genocide’ and ‘ceasefire’ without understanding the meaning of either within the current context.

Now, as ‘victims of an attack’, Israel becomes more heroic. And as the entire Arab world has rallied to Israel’s side, because Iran represents a great threat to all of them, people are actually re-thinking the whole Middle East thing. With Iran, who for years have in fact been at war with Israel via Hamas, via Hezbollah (who have 150,000 Iranian missiles) and via the Houthis. Thus Israel ‘prodded the bear’. Basically saying: ‘come on then, if ya think yer ‘ard enough. Come out and fight’. And you know what; Iran is not ‘hard enough’. Not for a war with Israel. And it knows it.

Bomb the oil refineries (sorry, Greta), and bomb the missile factories and bomb the nuclear facilities. I’m right behind you. Top Gun style.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx

Here’s what’s happening in the Premier League. Today!!! Well, yesterday and Saturday really. Which can basically be summed up in one simple sentence. Ready? It reads: everyone fucked up, except Manchester City. Possibly Aston Villa. 2 sentences. Sue me. For every other team (maybe not the ones who won, but we’ll include them for the sake of ‘art’), this weekend was The Catastrophe. It’s almost like 19 teams lost and Manchester City won, beating them all. A kind of metaphor for the season, really. For most of the seasons since Abu Dhabi bought Manchester’s (long-way) second favourite team and turned them into world-beating, treble-winning, league-dominating superheroes (subject to 105 law suits regarding financial irregularities; they might take it all back).

The weekend’s fixtures started with my beloved Tottingham Hotspurs traveling up to St James’s Park, all the way to Newcastle upon Tyne. The shouldn’t have bothered. Its become a terrible place for my team, bad vibes, dodgy omens, evil spirits, Newcastle Brown, Lindisfarne, the ghost of Alan Shearer poisoning the environment. How are we supposed to play in that??? So we didn’t and got trounced. Don’t want to talk about it.

Because there was too much excitement happening on Sunday!!! With Manchester City (see above, horrible, rancid, money-laundering, etc) thrashing lowly Luton on Saturday, yesterday was the day that both Liverpool and Arsenal needed to win to keep the title race nail-bitingly tight and a proper three-horse-race. Alas, those two horses both fell at the first and had to be put down.

Both Liverpool and Arsenal had home games. Ok, every match is tricky, but playing Crystal Palace at Anfield is not a game worth even betting on, the odds on a Liverpool win being so short. Whereas putting money on Palace would have earned you a few bob, as it transpired. The people of Liverpool are (once again) demanding a public inquiry. Quite rightly so.

So it was all to play for at the Emirates in the late kick-off. Arsenal, who needed to win to go back to the top by one point, playing Aston Villa, who are Spurs main contenders for the vital ‘4th place’ for a Champions League entry next season. So who did I wish to lose it? Villa, to further my (often hapless) team’s chances? Or Arsenal? Because the thought of them winning the league and the ensuing lectures on ‘the art and beauty of football as exemplified by the best team in the land’ by the Arsenal faithful for then next decade, is just too much incitement to murder.

Anyway, its football, not a fucking democracy. You don’t get to vote who wins, it just happens. And it happened that Villa won, quite brilliantly as it turned out. Condemning the Arse to second place, 2 points behind City. Only 2 points, yes, but its the ‘behind City’ which kills you.

So is that ‘it’ now? Do we just crown Rhodri and Sheikh Mansoor tomorrow? Oh, there’s 6 more games to play! Who knew?

Happy Monday, for some.

A xxxx

Well I’ve managed to avoid the Middle East for weeks now, despite internalising it every day. So now, in light of ‘Death Wish 7: The Revenge of the Ayatollah’ last night, I think we need to see exactly how the situation has changed and, more importantly, how ‘we’ move forward from this.

So Isreal killed two heads of the IRGC in Damascus. A brilliant, targeted strike which killed two men in a building. Now why would Israel do that, when they’re already at war with Hamas in Gaza and fighting, to a lesser degree, Hezbollah in the north, with rockets flying in every single day (the things they don’t bother mentioning on the news) from bases in both Lebanon and Syria? Why would Israel ‘poke the bear’ in such an inflammatory manner? Because it sends a message to Iran. And that message reads: “you cowardly bunch of shitheads go around sponsoring wars all over the Middle East to advance your evil intentions against not only Israel but against the Sunni branch of Islam too. Which you do with impunity because it’s not ‘you’ doing it but various proxy groups. Well here we are, little old Israel, showing you that we’re not fucking scared. You want to pick on us ‘by proxy’, we’ll out-proxy you by showing you you have nowhere to hide.”

Iran does not want a war with Israel. And yet cannot let the message go unanswered for fear of looking like the rats they are. So they sent in 300 ‘drones and missiles’. On a time-table which gave everyone time to prepare and stand in readiness. Not only Israel but unsurprisingly given Biden’s recent rhetoric, Americans sent their planes too. A little more surprisingly, Rishi sent some of our boys over in Spitfires and Hurricanes, and then totally fucking staggeringly surprising, Jordan sent its air force to help too. And between them, over 90% of the attack was neutralised.

The Jordan issue is massive. It shows the level of hatred which most Muslim countries have for Iran. And if Iran maintains that ‘it’s doing this for Palestinians’, as it does, then how does Jordan entering the affray against Iran pan out in the wider context of the current war? How about Egypt and its constant refusal to offer help to bordering Gaza?

Unfortunately, it is ALL about Iran. They started this mess, orchestrating the October 7th attack to stop the ongoing accord between Israel and Saudi Arabia, Iran’s biggest enemy of all (and there are sooooo many). Thus, Israel standing up to Iran, giving them a big ‘fuck you!!’ message, is standing up for the whole world who hates Iran. Which is pretty much all of it except Syria. And probably Russia.

Israel does not need to retaliate against last night’s retaliation. Iran basically humiliated itself by spending a week burning Star of David flags (why do they have so many in Iran? Just for burning purposes?) and swearing ‘DEATH TO ALL JEWS!!!!, to then just send in a few paper aeroplanes filled with fireworks. Whether Netenyahu can see this perspective remains to be seen. Israel’s job now is to finish off Hamas. And keep Hezbollah out of harm’s way. That will be the greatest insult to Iran anyway.

Happy warring Sunday

A xxxx

Honestly, that Angela Rayner…

Now I’m not going to even try to explain the nature of her (alleged) crime(s), but its along the lines of having two homes, one of which she kept her name to but lived in the other, with her husband, and where her children were ‘registered’ but she was on the voting list at the other address and claimed to live in both. Seperately. Or possibly together. Sleep for 3 hours in one, then at 4am walk down the road for the rest of the night. Who fucking knows what went on? It was in Manchester too, so who fucking cares? What happens in Manchester stays in Manchester, as far as I’m concerned.

Unless it breaks the law. Ooooohhh!!!

So now the police are involved. Which is a bit of a game changer for the opposition party’s greatest advocate for ‘honesty’, ‘openness’, transparency’ and ‘more honesty’.

She also sold her house. Which she bought from the council at a 25% discount. And she’d forfeit all or part of that discount if she sold the house within 5 years. She didn’t have to live in it, but claims she did. Sometimes.

Thus the police are now involved, at the behest of the Conservatives, obviously, to see if any ‘shenanigans’ were going on. The police don’t prosecute you for hypocrisy, but if they did, this could be her ‘Carlsberg moment’.

Meanwhile, I’m eagerly awaiting the delivery of the new wooden flooring for one of our rooms in Conway Palace. Not a big room, so not a lot of wood. They emailed me to say “it’s coming Thursday!!!”, as ordered. Alas, the ‘driver got sick’. So “we’ll bring it Friday between 10 and 2.00”. But either the driver had to go to hospital or the van broke down or possibly the road was closed for white vans, but it didn’t arrive. So it’s coming today!! No, really!! They promised. Between 12.00 and 2.00. And I have absolutely no doubts or reasons to not believe it’ll be here. I have absolute faith both in the delivery companies and in the morons employed by them who I fear have eaten my wood. Surely they wouldn’t fail three times!! That’s unthinkable. The idea of a concrete floor is becoming more appealing with every excuse they give me.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

I look forward to my monthly email from Google telling me of my ‘activity’ during the month. In fact, it’s the only email I get which I want. The rest are all from groupon who, I’m sure, are lovely people but in the interests of sanity should just FUCK OFF! A better man than me would ‘unsubscribe’ or do something technical, but really, it takes me no more than 17 minutes to delete the 274 emails I get each day.

Google Maps is a god. Because it is omnipotent and omniscient. It not only knows every single place I’ve been, it knows how I got there. Ok, I get that others might reduce the ‘godlike’ bit to ‘invasive, intrusive, unwanted, stalking, tracking, Big Brotherish’, but I get my monthly hilights and can actually re-live those fabulous moments spent in ‘Edgware’, which is odd because I avoid that place more than Covid, but may have driven past it on the A41 on the way somewhere better. Or that fabulous time in Colindale buying rawl plugs. That lunch at the Bells of Ousley, with a proper Harvester salad bar. It’s my monthly walk down memory lane.

Last month I drove 472 miles. It was a ‘big’ month for me. I had to drive to Chelmsford twice for the new car, and I went to Windsor to see the boatman. Both of which involved motorways and, generally, faster roads. Yet those 472 miles took me 29 hours. I’ll never get them back. That averages to about 16mph. Including the ‘fast bits’. Thus, I can deduce that it is quicker to walk round London than drive. As long as you can walk at about 12mph which of course you can’t. But 16mph?? That’s awful. Yet according to Sadiq Kahn and a bunch of pedestrian protectionists, stop oilers (even for Electric cars), Labour councillors, Vegans, pedophiles, Hamas supporters and Arsenal fans, the traffic needs to be slowed down. On the odd occasions you move at 24 mph, you now have to slow down to 20. Well, you don’t have to, you can keep driving at the ridiculously dangerous and highly emitting, deathly speed of 26 and get flashed 3 times on the same day and get a driving ban. Like my mate Jon did. But it can happen to bright people too.

The government have realised that there are one or two voters who actually drive cars. And thus are acting to prevent tossers like Sadiq Kahn implementing blanket 20mph limits across entire boroughs.

And in a few weeks get to vote for a new mayor. As a stalwart ‘Anyone but Kahn’ devotee, I’m still trying to find a candidate worth the 3 minute walk to the polling station for. It’s just like the American presidential election: how do you find the most ridiculously inappropriate and useless people out of massive populations, to stand for important jobs?

I’m going to stand next time. Then London can become a complete ‘no speed limits’ area and we can finally approach the Mad Maxian dystopia I’ve always craved.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx

We need to discuss Angela Rayner. It’s not my favourite subject, by a long way, but it needs to be done. Because Angela Rayner stole 1500 quid from me. Ok, from ‘us’. She avoided capital gains tax in precisely that amount when selling a ‘home’ which may or may not have been her first or only home and if not, she’s robbing the poor, working people of this faahn coontreh (her words) of money needed for hospitals, schools, care for the elderly and a new tyre on an ambulance.

Normally, if anyone ‘avoided’ payments to HMRC by almost-legal, slightly-dodgy little ploys, I’d be burning with admiration. But Ms Rayner is the deputy leader of the Labour Party. Furthermore, she’s always banging on about everyone else’s dodgy dealings and financial benefitting and sleaze and how that will all end when Labour are in government. And therefore must hold herself to higher standards. Otherwise you become that political pariah: a fucking hypocrite.

The whole issue began because of a book by (Lord) Michael Ashcroft, the former deputy chairman of the Conservative Party and one of its biggest donors. Even though (for tax purposes) he doesn’t live here. He likes it in Belize. Better climate. Financial climate, that is. So he is, in fact, most ideally placed to point out instances of tax avoidance as he is an absolute master of the art.

Yet on the radio the other day (the real radio, not a ‘podcast’) they were trying to say that Ange is unpopular because she’s a woman and northern to boot. And many would like to boot her. And as someone married to a northern woman, who still cannot say ‘bath’ or ‘glasses’ with a suitably long ‘a’, despite the beatings, I think it is terrible to accuse everyone who hates Angela Rayner of mysoginistic northernism. It is limiting. When there are so many other reasons to hate her. And although I don’t think I was precisely who Neil Young had in mind when he wrote ‘Southern Man’, that’s what I am. Why must these people take a specific example of a rather obnoxious person and try to use it as just an example of a more generalised problem of mysoginy or Nothernphobia? Although you are well within your rights to hate anyone who pulls the stock phrase ‘nothing to see here’ because they can’t manage ‘FUCK OFF!’

What needs to happen is that we need ‘transparency’ and ‘openness’ and all those other nauseating things which Labour insist upon, and we need to examine Angela Rayner’s house sale from a properly informed perspective. I’m already examining it from the perspective of a highly cultured, politically engaged wide-boy. And I don’t like it one bit.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

Because I’m a deeply cultured man with a vast array of eclectic interests and passions (read: ‘I like rugby as well as football’), I found myself last night at the Barbican concert hall for a symphonic concert. As ya do. When yer fuckin’ cultured. And it was wonderful. It was a celebration of modern composers by the London Symphony Orchestra. And the music was… errrr… well… at times almost musical! Not much of the time, obviously, because these were ‘modern’ compositions and those modernists don’t like music which, sort of, sounds like music. Nah. It’s about the (lack of) structure. It’s about replicating nature, creating an atmosphere, Its about the total avoidance of anything which might be mistaken for ‘a tune’. Even though they’re all in tune. Because we heard them tuning up. Which was more pleasant on the ear than most of the compositions. And yet, it’s all technically brilliant and musically… ‘interesting’. Modern orchestral works are basically musical masturbation. Without a happy ending. The woman sitting in front of me had a solution. See pic.

I’m not saying that all classical music written since the death of Beethoven is shit. I would not be so crass nor, as above, uncultured. But with yer Tchaikovsky you knew what you were getting. Even Wagner, Hitler’s favourite, could bang out a tune that you’d be singing all the way home, and in some cases, use in wars to come (Apocalypse Now, helicopter rockets to the Flight of the Valkyries; THAT is inspirational music. Even if it only, sort of, inspires mass killing).

At its very best, modern classical music all sounds like the soundtrack to a horror movie. It’s like listening to Psycho. All mood and drama and jagged edges and sharp corners, catching you by surprise. I was sitting in the Barbican waiting for Freddie Kruger to leap on me.

But watching an orchestra is always wonderful. Whatever they’re playing. Most of the ‘band’ have fairly static roles. But the percussionists don’t. They run around, basically, banging things. But so many different things, all set up in different places and all needing to banged with different bangers. So you hit a cow-bell, (C-sharp, if you’re interested) with a drum-stick, then rush over to the bass drum, grab the big furry-ended stick and hit that a couple time, then whizz back to the pipes, for which you need a bow, then grab the drum-sticks…

Its frantic and positively exhausting. If only there was a way of having the drums and bells and cymbals all arranged together, sort of ‘surrounding’ the percussionist? You could call it… a drum kit!! and invent Ginger Baker to go with it.

Then play on.

A xxxx

This is my cat. Possibly the most beautiful cat in the whole world. You didn’t know I had a cat, did you? No. I didn’t either. He, possibly she, just arrived one summer day when the back door was open. We get lots of local cats ‘appearing’ but they run away. This one didn’t. Joey screamed at it, whilst holding a big stick. Joey’s default is ‘holding a big stick’. But this cat just ignored him, strolled up to the back door and squeezed his/her/their way in, lay on the floor and did a bit of ‘grooming’. Not, like trying to coerce Joey, or me, in some sort of sexual sense, but just licking himself and scratching. That kind of ‘grooming’. And he/she returns. Frequently. We’re having a bit of ‘work done’ (unfortunately not in the cosmetic surgery sense, even though I need that more than a new floor) and our builder left a door open and in walked… Kevin? Deirdre? Merlin? Just strolling round to see what’s going on. As ya do. If you’re a totally fearless/oblivious and exceptionally beautiful cat.

Football’s getting a bit depressing now. Arsenal keep winning, Manchester City keep winning, Liverpool… play in a few minutes. Against their true enemies and rivals, Manchester United. Who, this year, are shit. But engaged in the ‘thrilling’ ‘battle for 4th place’, though possibly 5th, we’re not sure yet, which will bring the kudos and lucre of Champions League entry. Later on Spurs are playing Nottingham Forest. That’s a big one. I don’t know why, but it just is. We should beat Forest. On any measure of any sometimes predictable criterion, we should beat them easily. Like Luton. Possibly West Ham (just on moral grounds). Yet it won’t be easy. It will be painful to the point of excruciating.

And I just want to mention Kathleen. She’s not a cat, she’s a storm. Well, she’s a wind. A very strong one. So they’re banging on about how half of Scotland has blown away in Kathleen’s wake, how the NorthWest coast of England is… well, stormy, wind and rain and waves half a mile high upsetting the residents of Scarborough and Blackpool. But there’s no mention on what Kathleen does to tennis balls. Its awful. You go to play your forehand down-the-line winner and by the time the ball arrives, it’s a backhand drop shot. Which will float over to the next court and interrupt their doubles match. Yet they don’t tell you that on the weather reports, do they? We’re suffering too, ya know!

Happy Sunday

A xxxx

The world moves along at a pace.

In 1974 I met my first photocopier. We called them ‘Gestetner’ after the cousin of the man who invented it. Probably because the actual inventor was either in prison for war crimes or hiding out in Argentina. And, obviously, the first thing I did was slap my penis on the plate and make a photocopy. You had to. Then drop your pants and sit on it. A right of passage. In this case, the back passage. No employer would give you a proper contract until you’d photocopied some naughty bits and pieces.

And you’d show the print copy to your mates and laugh. Yes, a group of men laughing at your penis doesn’t do great things for your confidence, but for making people laugh, no price is too high. I’d very rarely hand copies out to women on tube trains.

I didn’t show the copies to any gay men, because gay men weren’t invented until 1979. Prior to that the entire population of the world was heterosexual.

Then flash forward (pun very much intended) to 2024 and you’d no more have a photocopier than you would a fax machine. Instead you have a phone. Which is in fact a massively powerful computer which can handle bank transactions securely, photocopy any document, count your daily steps, monitor your heart rate and play every song that’s ever been sung. And it can send things. Messages, documents and, of course, photographs.

And thus that stupid, puerile, pathetic need to display your genitals to others has the perfect vehicle for dispatch.

Thus did William Wragg, a ‘senior Conservative politician’, one of the people charged with running our entire nation, chose to send a picture of his nob to some geezer he’d never met, on a gay dating app. Said picture was then used by Mr Anonymous to essentially blackmail poor Willy (nothing is ever better than a nob joke). If he didn’t provide contact details for a whole bunch of very important ministers, Willy’s willy would be on the front page of the… Mail? Mirror? Sun? Daily Penis? So he gave the horrible man some contact details of various top MPs. Some of whom then received photos of other people’s genitalia. Male and female. So poor Willy had to confess to his compliance. And make himself the ‘victim’ of this cybercrime. Thus getting himself off the hook.

But a ‘senior politician’ sending pictures of his dick? Really? How ‘senior’ do you have to be in the Conservative Party to realise that is probably never a good idea?

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

I’ve solved the economic crisis. It’s so easy. You just have to think ‘outside the box’. And as most politicians have trouble even working out where the box might be, I’ll help them out. Rishi needs help. I really don’t want Starmer to be PM, he’s an Arsenal fan and not a very likeable one. I’m not opposed to a Labour government, it would be impossible for them to tax us any higher than the Tories do, but just not ‘this’ Labour lot. So here’s what we should do.

Import Taylor Swift. Kidnap her. Steal her. Force her to become English. (Not British, though I appreciate her citizenship may be tarnished by association with the Scots and the Welsh). She can stay at my house. We have room. I’ll make room. But the boost to our economy would be…

Taylor is now a billionaire. We know that. Was only a matter of (not very much) time. But more importantly is that she just improves any micro-economy which comes inside her immense gravitational pull. Which is not to say she’s massive, like it would if applied to Jupiter, f’rinstance, because she’s totally perfect. LIKE MY WIFE!!! (who may or may not read this but you just don’t take chances like that).

Her current world tour has grossed $1billion. But the boost this tour will create just in the American part of it (she’s touring 5 continents) is $6billion. Six bil. That’s a shit-load of “I heart Taylor” t-shirts, bottles of peroxide and curling tongs. Probably a few sparkly mini-dresses thrown in too.

Because of her relationship with Travis Kelce, she came back from performing in Japan just to see him win the Superbowl. It became the most viewed Superbowl ever. And for those of us fortunate enough not to be American, The Superbowl is simply MASSIVE in viewing figures, advertising revenues, every monetary measure possible. And she made it significantly better, without even playing. As a comparison, when Lionel Messi’s mum came and watched him win the World Cup, total sales increased by 3 hot dogs and a box of popcorn.

So, yes, we all love Taylor. We the songs she writes, the tunes she sings, we love the ‘don’t fuck with me!!’ attitude and of course, we love her legs. Or would do, if we were allowed. But she is a complete industry, the benefits of which spread out to improve all of society. Just think what she could do for the NHS!!!

Come over, Taylor, MY BROTHER NEEDS YOU (and your money).

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx