Bck

Typing on keybord without n ' ' symbol. h tht dosn't work so well. It's the first letter of the lphbet nd the word lphbet.

A Time to Fight

A delineation must be drawn: A line that cannot be crossed. Like a cheap Hadron Collider bought for an 'easy on the pocketbook' fee from a now defunct Eastern Block state The Dustman and his Buci Neri must be stopped.

He lies. He lives a lie. His words are a lie.

This could be the end for humanity - and several other breeds of primate.

Join now.

State your superhero and his/her power and please God if Dustpan Man is out there get in touch....

Superhero

If you were a superhero what special power would you have?

I'd be able to speak every language in the world.

What would you call yourself?

Linguaman.

It's Been a Pig of a Time

Sorry I've not written for a while. Swine Flu. Hands like trotters. Impossible to type.

Has it gone pandemic yet?

There Have Been Complaints

There have been complaints about the erratic nature of my blogging. At first I thought this may be topic related, (due concerns noted about, 'In the Blink of a Salamander's Eye') however it would appear that the main thrust of the complaints are simply the frequency, or lack thereof, of entries. NP your complaints have been noted and sent to the inappropriate authorities. Unless the Time Council vote to increase the length of a day to 25 hrs additional blogging on my part seems unlikely. However please feel free to browse the links below while you wait. The Doctor will be with you shortly.

The story of a man who lives with a chimp. Real or imagined it's hauntingly strange. Brokebackmonkey

The Old Bailey in London, England have put their criminal records online. They cover the years 1674 - 1913. Why not while away a few hours marveling at the crimes committed by Great Aunt Mord in here criminal heyday of yesteryear.
Auntmordthemurderess

A Rose By Any Other Name

I have a friend whose grandmother calls him Keith. Which is odd as his name is Niall.

The Blink of a Salamander's Eye

Sometimes when I can't sleep I imagine myself in a spacecraft. At first I take tentative steps: a short hop to the moon to test the controls, a brush with the Red Planet; skimming its atmosphere and marvelling at its untouched surface. Later, once I am confident in the craft, I go further. It has the capacity to bend space, allowing me to travel great distances in the blink of a salamander's eye. Space in its vastness is inexplorable and it is this overwhelming feeling of smallness that is no doubt responsible for me falling asleep, crushed under the duvet, by the greatness of it all.

There is something else though. As I sit in the seat of the spacecraft a black unknown exists behind me in the bowels of the ship. An unknowable presence of something long forgotten, unlearnt or never known. Something that troubles me; something I must ignore because going forward is too important, too vital, and all we can ever do.