If such a thing as technological DNA exists then I believe we have handed ours to the world wide web for keeps.
The internet is constantly looking for ways to gather information about all of us. Social network sites, trading websites - be it financial or personal information very little evades the all singing, all dancing spider web that links so many of us to people all over the world.
"Oh bloody hell! He's off on one of his conspiracy rants again.." You think. There's nothing necessarily insidious about the web though. The stockpiling of data is a result, not necessarily the deliberate intention.
The Web is a bit like the Roman Empire. As Monty Python's 'The Life of Brian' facetiously asks: "What have the Romans done for us?" Of course the list is long, but the death and devastation left by their many conquests is likewise considerable.
Obviously the Internet hasn't been directly responsible for lives lost. It is comparable though in that both have facilitated considerable advancement of the human civilization while eroding valuable freedoms (privacy, speech).
"So its ok then? Well what's the point of this shit?" You say. The very same point of the world wide web - advancement. Your advancement. Try and imagine a life less dictated to by the internet.
No, don't cut yourself off from civilization and live in a cage - not unless you have body odour problems. There is so much of the world that has pre-dated our modern age though and will carry on till the world stops spinning. Nature, physical evidence of our history, face-to-face communication for example. Rediscover it, and yourself - step out of the matrix.
Monday, 17 September 2012
Sunday, 26 August 2012
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
The Anger Games
The hot topic on everyone's lips at the moment seems to be the Olympics. We're all deciding whether we give the slightest shit about it or not.
I think it'll be interesting mainly to see which countries haven't fallen out with each other by the end. The games haven't even technically started yet and already North Korea has thrown a strop with Scotland and South Korea over the latter's flag flying high over Hampden Park where their ladies were playing football.
Presumably Kim-Jong Un doesn't see the need for a foreign relations minister as one worth their salt would've told him that the last place you want to kick off is Glasgow. "Your nuclear weapons won't wash here pal. What do you think we wear under our kilts?"
Other feisty tête-a-têtes include America v Russia/China, Israel v the rest of the Middle East, and England v pretty much all of Europe. This might go some way to explaining why London looks like Berlin circa 1939 at the moment.
But perhaps the most volatile factor of all is the ever present possibility that Mayor of London Boris Johnson might make comments of a: racist, xenophobic, sectarian, Islamophobic or sexist, (delete as applicable) nature.
And that to me is the perfect justification for flooding the capital with troops, anti-aircraft missiles and a sea of snipers. The troops as protection from some pissed off countries and the snipers to take out Boris.
I think it'll be interesting mainly to see which countries haven't fallen out with each other by the end. The games haven't even technically started yet and already North Korea has thrown a strop with Scotland and South Korea over the latter's flag flying high over Hampden Park where their ladies were playing football.
Presumably Kim-Jong Un doesn't see the need for a foreign relations minister as one worth their salt would've told him that the last place you want to kick off is Glasgow. "Your nuclear weapons won't wash here pal. What do you think we wear under our kilts?"
Other feisty tête-a-têtes include America v Russia/China, Israel v the rest of the Middle East, and England v pretty much all of Europe. This might go some way to explaining why London looks like Berlin circa 1939 at the moment.
But perhaps the most volatile factor of all is the ever present possibility that Mayor of London Boris Johnson might make comments of a: racist, xenophobic, sectarian, Islamophobic or sexist, (delete as applicable) nature.
And that to me is the perfect justification for flooding the capital with troops, anti-aircraft missiles and a sea of snipers. The troops as protection from some pissed off countries and the snipers to take out Boris.
Thursday, 7 June 2012
Birthday Boy! Part 2
On the Friday I continued my birthday celebrations with a trip to the Forest of Dean to 'Go Ape'.
As was standard for the week we managed to miss one journey on public transport. We still managed to get to the site on time and were soon strapped into our harnesses and ready to go.
Before we set off I worried I might have to give Jemma a hand around the course. It didn't take long to find out that, like Mowgli, Jemma had been raised by animals in the jungle and was hopping across tightropes as though she was born on them.
In stark contrast the altitude got to me and I started doing impressions of the old Budweiser advert.
The Zip Wires were amazing, and on the highest one we were gliding over treetops. The terror of the jump off the platform turned into euphoria after I realised that I wasn't going to a) die b) wet myself c) sob "Mummy!" d) perform all of the above in reverse order.
Despite some hairy moments removing my testicles from the harness we made it through the course in one piece.
After more fun and games getting out of Lydney, we survived the war-torn streets of Newport and even had a nice Birthday dinner at a Welsh Wetherspoons. When we were seated comfortably on the train to Bath Jemma and I literally had the icing on the cake. We ate the cake too...
It was an excellent birthday and a special thank-you to Jemma for planning my Legends' Tour and for resisting her natural instinct to unclip my carabiner and send me hurtling to the forest floor.
As was standard for the week we managed to miss one journey on public transport. We still managed to get to the site on time and were soon strapped into our harnesses and ready to go.
Before we set off I worried I might have to give Jemma a hand around the course. It didn't take long to find out that, like Mowgli, Jemma had been raised by animals in the jungle and was hopping across tightropes as though she was born on them.
In stark contrast the altitude got to me and I started doing impressions of the old Budweiser advert.
The Zip Wires were amazing, and on the highest one we were gliding over treetops. The terror of the jump off the platform turned into euphoria after I realised that I wasn't going to a) die b) wet myself c) sob "Mummy!" d) perform all of the above in reverse order.
Despite some hairy moments removing my testicles from the harness we made it through the course in one piece.
After more fun and games getting out of Lydney, we survived the war-torn streets of Newport and even had a nice Birthday dinner at a Welsh Wetherspoons. When we were seated comfortably on the train to Bath Jemma and I literally had the icing on the cake. We ate the cake too...
It was an excellent birthday and a special thank-you to Jemma for planning my Legends' Tour and for resisting her natural instinct to unclip my carabiner and send me hurtling to the forest floor.
Birthday Boy! Part 1
What a birthday! So much has happened that I shall split my exploits into sections. 'Oooh - how organised Goatman!'
1. The Mystery Tour.
Miss Goatman sprung a surprise on me when she whisked me away in the early hours of Wednesday morning to a faraway place. We arrived in London, had a lovely McDonalds breakfast and then Jemma led me to our destination..
The Emirates Stadium! My better half didn't do things in halves either. She had arranged a Legends Tour for me with none other than cheeky chappy and the original 'King of Highbury' - Charlie George.
Everyone who knows Arsenal knows Charlie George. Scorer of the winning goal in the 1971 F.A. Cup Final against a team I can't think of at the moment...
Oh wait a minute I remember!
I enjoyed seeing inside the director's box and the changing rooms, but after walking around on a warm day I needed a sit down as I was starting to feel "stuck in the middle Djourou..."
A great day despite missing our coach home and having to evade a terrorist attack. This consisted of the criminal feigning drunken unconsciousness and holding up at least 3 terminals at Victoria Coach Station.
I'll never forget meeting Charlie. Still the main man - sign him up Arsene!
1. The Mystery Tour.
Miss Goatman sprung a surprise on me when she whisked me away in the early hours of Wednesday morning to a faraway place. We arrived in London, had a lovely McDonalds breakfast and then Jemma led me to our destination..
The Emirates Stadium! My better half didn't do things in halves either. She had arranged a Legends Tour for me with none other than cheeky chappy and the original 'King of Highbury' - Charlie George.
Everyone who knows Arsenal knows Charlie George. Scorer of the winning goal in the 1971 F.A. Cup Final against a team I can't think of at the moment...
Oh wait a minute I remember!
I enjoyed seeing inside the director's box and the changing rooms, but after walking around on a warm day I needed a sit down as I was starting to feel "stuck in the middle Djourou..."
A great day despite missing our coach home and having to evade a terrorist attack. This consisted of the criminal feigning drunken unconsciousness and holding up at least 3 terminals at Victoria Coach Station.
I'll never forget meeting Charlie. Still the main man - sign him up Arsene!
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Weakened Weekend
Saturday morning I woke early for work with that sprightly feeling after a good night's sleep. Odd seeing as I had less than 6 hours. That was as good as it got.
The last hour and a half of my shift was excrement. People were very impatient. To worsen matters I got off 15 minutes late - not happening again. Then after fighting my way through hordes of disgusting proles in town I waited half an hour for a bus that was 20 minutes late.
When I got home I did the sensible thing and went to bed. Even though it was early afternoon I realised that my consciousness had not worked to that point so hedged my bets and went to sleep.
I was up in time to watch a bit of the F.A. Cup final. A mostly dour affair as part of Chelsea's tactics are to dull their opponents into submission. Andy Carroll was the hi-light. The first time he's looked like the player he was at Newcastle since his move.
The evening consisted of helping Mr. Kitson place pins in Voodoo cushions of Newcastle United players. I threatened to snare some of Kitson's allotted Sheppy's but he wasn't having any of it.
The last hour and a half of my shift was excrement. People were very impatient. To worsen matters I got off 15 minutes late - not happening again. Then after fighting my way through hordes of disgusting proles in town I waited half an hour for a bus that was 20 minutes late.
When I got home I did the sensible thing and went to bed. Even though it was early afternoon I realised that my consciousness had not worked to that point so hedged my bets and went to sleep.
I was up in time to watch a bit of the F.A. Cup final. A mostly dour affair as part of Chelsea's tactics are to dull their opponents into submission. Andy Carroll was the hi-light. The first time he's looked like the player he was at Newcastle since his move.
The evening consisted of helping Mr. Kitson place pins in Voodoo cushions of Newcastle United players. I threatened to snare some of Kitson's allotted Sheppy's but he wasn't having any of it.
Tuesday, 17 April 2012
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