Posted by: docdenbow | March 2, 2015

Hey Johnny, what are you rebelling against?

After my previous post, which on re reading, makes me appear to be a rather nasty sort of person, I think that I should make some sort of attempt to write something a little more upbeat. I could use my massive intellect, which in fairness is almost equal with that of Philomena Cunk to in turn to enlighten, educate, elucidate to you, my followers to the thoughts of this philosopher that goes by the name of Denbow. I could teach you mantras or in the manner of Kevin in that programme about big stupid houses give you a Grand Design for modern life. but my friends is it worth it? After all that pop group Blur made an LP asserting that “Modern Life Is Rubbish,” so who am I to argue the toss? Well as Twisted Sister shouted out for those not sure, “I Am, I’m Me.”

Blur were wrong, as they were about many things. Damon Albarn may feel Heavy Metal, but that’s the last thing he is, so his pop group’s statement that “Modern Life Is Rubbish” can only be seen as post pubescent rebellion along the lines of assorted One Directioners festooning their bodies with tasteless tattoos. Gone are the days when a Mildred could say to Johnny.

Marlon Brando - The Wild One (Madame Tussaud, ...

. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Hey Johnny, what are you rebelling against?”
and he would reply,
“Whadda you got?”

That’s a bit of a shame really, it really is. Johnny has not bugger all left to rebel against. It’s a shame really that all of the counter culture rebellion bullshit has been done before. “Turn on tune in and drop out” was said by Timothy Leary in the 1960s and that  little phrase still makes waves for the youth of today, turn on your X-Box,  tune in the TV that Daddy and Mummy bought and drop out of sight wanking yourself to unconsciousness to internet porn.

Like most of us Johnny has only got First World problems to rebel against these days. Our every whim is catered for, and for that reason modern life is not rubbish. It isn’t for me anyway. I think that if you are one of the retards that not only read, but also believe the contents of The Daily Mail then modern life is indeed rubbish. There are scare stories about everything giving you cancer and pandemics sweeping the globe. There are always serial killers on the loose and pensioners being beaten and robbed in their own homes. Don’t let them get started on Jeremy Clarkson or the weather or women looking a bit rough because they’re not 20 anymore.

Having watched a TV programme presented by Dr Lucy Worsley called “A Very British Murder” I decided that there is something about the majority of people that is fascinated by misery and horror. Apparently in the 19th Century the hits of the day were songs sung in boozers and in the streets about murders, for example there was a big hit with a song about the murder of Maria Marten by William Corder in the infamous Red Barn.  His execution drew a crowd of which the aforementioned One Directions would be proud of. As such, times haven’t changed that much in my opinion. Turn on the telly or pick up a paper or read the interweb news sites and you’ll see that it’s usually misery at the top of the page. That or sensationalist irrelevance about Kim Kardashian’s oily arse. We collectively rub our hands together outraged or giggling in equal measure. As a species, society we seem to have our priorities a bit oily arse over surgically enhanced tit.

The Jeremy Kyle Show (U.S. TV series)

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So what does the great DocDenbow think that the answer is? Well, I could say that I don’t know, but that would be being just as negative and self serving as I don’t want either me or the world to be. There is of course no definitive answer. None whatsoever, but what I do know is that whatever it is that we are doing we are simply doing it all wrong. What I do know is the answer isn’t to jump on bandwagons of blind prejudice and hatred blaming all of the ills on someone else. Take UKIP for example, Farage and his chinless cronies actually believe in the crass idea that “they’re coming over here taking our jobs….” Yes they may be coming over here taking our jobs, but a lot of them are being taken because the bone idle population of the UK can’t lift their arses off the settee to actually go to work. That may well get in their way of taking their toothless selves onto The Jeremy Kyle Show to get their sundry drug and alcohol habits via the Christ like figure that is Graham.

I’ll tell what at least part of the answer is. We should have fun, all of us. We should enjoy ourselves and do our damndest to get others to have fun, to join us. We should be open, honest and truthful. We should accept ourselves and others for what they are and not judge people just because they are a bit different. You know, have a different view on how they want to live their lives. Of course those freedoms to live as we please should be taken with caution as we don’t live in an ideal world – far from it.

However, we’re far from doomed yet. Just as feckless self serving, narrow minded and dogmatic people may be, they can be encouraged to change. They can be invited to the party, they can be showed that they can be happy and fulfilled. Some of us need to see the road signs that can lead us along the way. I’m not talking religion here, I’m talking humanism, acceptance of other and being accepted in turn.

Perhaps everyone should do as I did which was get *clicky*> naked for a day <*clicky* even though I’ve been derided and condemned roundly for doing so.

Ciao For Now,

Denbow

 

Posted by: docdenbow | March 1, 2015

Misanthropy?

In the main I despise the human race. I don’t like crowds, I’m not a big fan of socializing and people simply get on my bloody nerves. Mind you, I probably get on everybody else’s nerves so I suppose that just about evens things out. However I want to be a writer, or to put it another way I have delusions that I am a writer, so my misanthropy does tend to get in the way a bit. If you have little or no love of people in general it’s difficult to write interaction or even imagine social situations in which you don’t take part. Tricky, eh? For that reason, I think, everything I’ve written that I think is halfway decent, is written in the first person. Most of the time I haven’t a clue what people are thinking so when I try to write fiction that naïveté comes through.

English: All time social interaction between u...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

To get all introspective and self analytical I think I’ve sort of worked out why I am as I am. I think it’s just that I expect too much of people. I expect them to be open, candid and share things – you know thoughts ideas and stuff. Share who they really are and not who they want you to think they are. In the last ten years I’ve only met a few people who struck me as open and honest, who were prepared to share their ideas and experiences and selves. It’s weird that sections of society that society thinks are weird are really less weird than those who think they’re weird in the first place. (Huh, you get what I mean?)

I can sense now that you are frowning and scratching your collective heads whilst you think,
“What the bloody hell is the matter with Denbow now?”
You may be wondering whether Denbow is a manically depressed wizened old sod who really should start drinking again in a last ditch attempt to preserve his sanity. You’re quite entitled to wonder whether Denbow is a manically depressed wizened old sod. However, Denbow is not a manically depressed wizened old sod.

And to quote Prince Hamlet – “Aye there’s the rub.”

You see, in principle I like the idea of a busy social life where I’m surrounded by friends. Yeah right, that’s the principle, but most people are wankers and my idea of this busy social life is more than a little like a view of an ideal world. You dream of one, but you know it just ain’t going to happen. Ever. My ideal social life will never happen either because I know of no one who shares my interests and as I’ve alluded to I’ve given up the demon drink so a visit to a hostelry holds absolutely no attraction. None at all.The tragedy of my social life is that it used revolve around “getting a few down me.” As someone with epilepsy I’ve realized far too late in life that this was never a good plan and given the fact that after 5 years of cutting down I have stopped altogether means that my tenuous grip on the last lifeline of a social life has gone. It’s slipped away, probably for good.

Does it bother me, you know this almost total lack of social interaction? Does it? Should it bother me?Would it bother you? Think about it for  moment, man is supposed to be a social animal, living in packs and having a collective strength. Without social interaction are you stronger, tougher and more able to cope with adversity. On the other hand are you weaker, more vulnerable and isolated craving company? I think that the answer lies in between the two. On one hand being in a group just for the sake of it is futile and totally meaningless, but on the other hand being alone is only a good thing if it by choice.

Ciao For Now,

Denbow

Posted by: docdenbow | January 18, 2015

Do I Carry On Or Just Watch TV?

london-underground.blogspot.com/2008/08/bloggi...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My Twitter friend @TraCeyLambo has recently suggested that she may call time on her wonderful little blog, traceylouise.wordpress.com . I think that people like us (and @bilstonjay) often feel like wrapping the whole thing up and packing it away. For myself I started writing my blog four years ago and have written quite a lot in that time on all manner of subjects. Some posts have been good whilst others have been not so good. I’ve been happy that people, no matter how few, have actually read what I’ve written. I have had some posts read by loads of people and others barely read at all. One post in particular picked up over 2,500 hits much to my surprise as the intention was not to grab readers by writing something controversial, but to merely express my thoughts and beliefs.Anyway like @TraCeyLambo I’m wondering why I’m spending my time writing a blog and I’m beginning to resent the time that I spend thinking of subjects to write about.

I always have a few half baked ideas, but after some unpleasantries in 2014 I am wary of writing too much about myself – certainly not in the way I have in the past. That’s the thing, I really won’t write about myself anymore and give fuel to the nasty bastard who insisted on repeatedly posting vile stuff on the comments section for me to read. So saying that anything I’ve already written stays there as those posts have already been used as the source for abuse.

I’m actually writing a very long post post at the moment – not this one – about stuff that happened to me in 1984 with a few comments on what was happening in the great wide world that year. That’s a bit different for me as I’m trying to relate a true story, a snapshot in time if you like. I’m not going to go on about it and give the details away but hope that when it’s published that you read it and enjoy it.

Moving on, any of you saddos out there been watching Celebrity Big Brother? You have? Oh dear, whatever can you be thinking? Are your lives so empty that you have to see the Sawalha woman showing some alarming tendencies and Katie Hopkins (@kthopkins) being a bit bored?  What about that Perez Hilton creature? The man is so intelligent that he commented that Michael Jackson’s death was nothing more than a publicity stunt? Yawn! I mean, I haven’t seen any of this turgid #CBB2015 that passes for entertainment. I’m not so friendless that I can only only feel kinship via some carefully edited tripe with a voice over by a male version of @CherylKerl Now that O’Neal fellow has quit. I would say that he’s a great singer for a basketball player if I’d ever seen the programme which I haven’t – so there.

Braun HF 1 television receiver, Germany, 1958

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

One thing that I’ve noticed recently is how little “live” that I actually watch. I always try to avoid watching stuff as it is broadcast. One of the main reason is because of the adverts. The Americans are obviously happy with a 40 minute show being padded out to 60 minutes by the not so delicate insertion of a succession of commercials aiming to sell us not only stuff we don’t want or need but also trailing more sh*tty programmes that are also full of adverts. The joy of the Sky+ and TiVo boxes is that you can whizz through the adverts at 32 times the speed and watch what you want to watch and not some airbrushed psycho bitch from hell telling you Nivea has made her look younger than her daughter.I manage to crash my way through all of this generic TV slop in well under 40 minutes as each programme usually consists of a five minute recap of what happened last week and at the end there’s a bolt on of what’s going to happen next week. These previews are there to get you to watch the next episode and get you salivating and all aroused, but I’ve come to realize that these trailers show the only decent bits (usually explosions) and a nanosecond of sex . In other words, all the good bits. I have long thought that if you watch the summary and the trailer for “next week” for each episode then you’ll see enough of the turgid crap to understand what’s going on and realize that’s it’s crap without wasting hours and hours of you miserable lonely fetid life.

That’s the problem. There’s a whole lot of pig’s vomit passed off as high class TV and in this age of a 1 second attention span and a need to appeal to the lowest common denominator this is not going to change anytime soon. Most of the TV dramas that have been acclaimed in the “Quality Press” and have won awards worth winning (as opposed to the TV Quick awards) are thinly or not so thinly disguised versions of what has been seen before. Those that that rise above the slurry are then usually beaten into a pulp of self parody with the obligatory murder, death, war, jail sentence and miscarriage of justice. For these reason I can no longer watch the cliche that is UK drama.

So watch do I watch?

As someone who has appointed himself a commentator on TV programmes across the board I watch everything as matter of duty. For pleasure as long standing readers of my  blog will know, when it comes to TV that I watch for pleasure, I am a brain dead moron. I spend many envious  hours of my dissolute wretched life watching stage managed American “Reality” TV like Pawn Stars, Storage Wars, Counting Cars and the mightily educational Finding Bigfoot. Yes I am stupid, but I have sufficient nous and intelligence to be aware of the fact that I am a moron. Not for me cliched dramas, I want my TV to be sunny with all white teeth, chuckles and friendly banter. A bit like Star Trek with tattoos. I’ll leave a detailed examination of these programmes for another time, but suffice to say I wish they were my buddies. So there you are, I’m a moron without taste or friends.

Yet buried within the mound of manure that is the drug of the dim I have found a real gem. A superb piece of the televisual art that touches the heart and is beautifully performed with a conviction that is rare on the stage, on film or TV. I have seen many of the world’s finest and none have performed with the depth, control and pathos. None have become the part in such a way. This beyond acting, beyond performing. The principal actor just “is.” That’s what makes him great. I have recorded this and when I am completely disillusioned about the garbage that festers within my 42” glowing panel of joy, I watch, in awe and on every occasion I forget that this a fiction laid out before me. There is a melancholy about it that is somehow uplifting, but it is and shall remain my little secret.

Anyway for now,

That’s It.

Denbow

xxx

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Posted by: docdenbow | January 5, 2015

Who The Hell Is Giorgio Tsoukalos?

At some point in this new year we will see in the press or television some story about a UFO sighting. If the tale makes it to the dailies then it’s likely that the eyewitness evidence is at least newsworthy and is not supplied by a slack jawed drooling nutjob. Seeing something weird or unidentifiable in the sky doesn’t mean that you need to be in a padded cell, no not all. It may just be that you don’t recognize or understand what you’re seeing, or indeed you may see just what you want to see. That’s fair enough, I suppose. I mean you see some object flying around and you don’t know what it is then it’s an Unidentified Flying Object and it’s not necessarily full of little green (or any colour you like) men.

title screenshot

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the nomenclature of the unknown it seems that “UFO” means an alien. I think that is an unsound assumption to make as there is no reason to suspect that aliens have ever paid us a visit in a flying object that is not recognized – unless you think that the 1947 Roswell Incident counts. That’s the whole thing about extraterrestrial life in my opinion; you’re either a believer or a non believer – or at least a sceptic. What am I? Well, that’s not really the point here, that’s not what I’m talking about.

Grainy B&W image of supposed UFO, Passoria, Ne...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The belief in the existence of extraterrestrials requires a faith with little or no empirical evidence and I don’t have that faith. In other words if you believe, then you’ll find what little evidence that is lying around and use it to try and back up your assertions. It’s not just the ufologists who do this, it’s also the crypto-zoologists and Sasquatch hunters who use scant evidence to reinforce a belief. Those folks are essentially researchers, who do try to investigate and find true irrefutable evidence. However, there are those that manufacture evidence. These are the loony tune nut jobs. These chaps, and yes they’re bound to be chaps, manufacture evidence to back up their spurious claims. They believe in the veracity of other made up stuff and authenticate each other’s totally bollocks theories by writing about them on their websites and blogs. From time to time their stupid theories are backed up by “experts” who used to be pilots, rocket engineers, employees of NASA or worked at Area 51 and share the common traits that they are attention seeking pathological liars. My personal favourites are the experts whose thinking is clearly on the edge of reality. Some of these have made themselves a small fortune by espousing ridiculous theories. They are masters of weighing up one side of a story and leaping to a conclusion that they assert is true just because they think it is. The leader in this field is none other than Giorgio Tsoukalos. I hear you all utter one question………..

“Who the hell is Giorgio Tsoukalos?”

Giorgio is an interesting chap. Maybe interesting is not the right word. Give me a moment and I’ll have a little think about a more appropriate adjective. Mmm, got it! The perfect adjective for Giorgio is “pillock.” He’s crazy, mad, unhinged and illogical Captain. He makes less sense than a bottle of chips and has the intellectual capacity of a Sinclair C5. He is one of the experts on “Ancient Aliens” that is broadcast on the History Channel and quite frankly I find him a bit scary. He has this unshakeable belief, in spite of bugger all in the way of evidence, that beings from wherever visited this mortal coil and set humanity on its way.  In spite of finding nothing particularly plausible to back this up, Giorgio offers a wide eyed smirk and asserts that our ancestors were, visited by aliens. His proof comes in the form of statues, tablets, wall paintings and such all of which depict, according to him, spaceships and/or aliens.

What I find a little disconcerting is the fact that Giorgio thinks that all of these aliens are “good blokes,” you know the sort of aliens you might take to the pub for a couple of pints of Carling and a game of pool. It doesn’t seem to occur to him that aliens haven’t visited us at all and if they ever did they may not be exactly friendly. As a clever bloke named Stephen Hawking put it –

 “If aliens visit us, the outcome would be much as when Columbus landed in America, which didn’t turn out well for the Native Americans. … We only have to look at ourselves to see how intelligent life might develop into something we wouldn’t want to meet.”

But, of course they came to earth. They’re fine fellows, the females loved them and had sex with them to breed bald talking monkeys who walked upright, smoked fags and watched Jeremy Kyle on the TV. Well that’s the kind of thing that Giorgio says and he must be right because he has a scientific background doesn’t he? He’s a clever man, right? Well maybe. He has studied, according to his Wikipedia page, and is a 1998 graduate of Ithaca College in Ithaca, New York, with a bachelor’s degree in sports information and communication. For several years in the early 2000s, he served as a bodybuilding promoter in IFBB sanctioned contests, including Mr. Olympia. Hmm, so the ability to gather together a group of oily musclemen together to do some synchronized flexing makes for a good background in scientific and historical research does it?

Anyway for Now,

That’s It,

Denbow

Posted by: docdenbow | December 31, 2014

Everything I Had To Know

2014, I’ll leave you with this……………….

I love radio as a medium. I love radios as well. I can clearly recall the radio that I had as a youngster. It was a Grundig Party Boy and I used it night after night listening to Radio One and BMRB in my bedroom. The sad thing for me is that due to my loyalty to any possession,  I have absolutely no recollection of what became of it. Did it break and get discarded? Did I give it to a girlfriend as a love token? I can only shake my head and wonder of what became of my childhood friend. Naturally down the years there have been others, all have been adequate and pretty in their own way, but all have been unable to take the place of my first love. That’s the thing with first love, the memories burn with a smoking intensity giving rise to a sweet, sweet scent of misty nostalgia.

Prior to my discovery of girls and just how nice they looked and felt,  I’d listen to my records and the radio seeking out new “sounds.” However, on occasions when Party Boy and I were battered in submission by 20 minute “songs” featuring heavy mellotron use (Thotch anyone?) we would set off on a journey of exploration of the airwaves of Europe. VHF (FM to you young ‘uns) was pretty crap for that, as in those days bugger all seemed to be broadcast that was out of the ordinary unless you wanted to listen to the one sided conversations of PC Plod. On medium wave and long wave you could move along the frequencies in search of something tangible – and there never was anything there. It was like going to parties hoping to get a snog from a pretty girl and failing miserably time after time. You would never, ever succeed but it wouldn’t stop you going back to try again.

For a long time I neglected radio. She must have thought that I had forsaken her like so many others had done before me. We would sometimes meet for secret trysts when I was alone in my car, but that was about it it. I could tell she wanted commitment, but I was being seduced by another – the video cassette tape who occupied my time by showing me an endless array of fuzzy forgettable movies featuring people I had not heard of – and still haven’t. I flirted unmercilessly with video nasties, Driller Killer, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Evil Dead. What chance did she have, with her fading appeal like that of an aging pin up, against new technology?

Then along came digital broadcasting with Freeview and the ubiquitous tin boxes that delivered digital programmes to a whole plethora of cathode ray monsters. For myself, I discovered the joys of digital radio. Well, that’s not true really, what I did discover was the concept of digital radio. To be honest I was singularly unimpressed as digital seemed to offer nothing that good old VHF, Medium and Long Wave offered in the choice of stations. I was becoming a luddite as I was thinking that if these digital radio chaps get their way all we’ll be able to listen to is sanitized pop stations that play John Farnham’s  “You’re The Voice” every twenty minutes. A vision, or perhaps earful, of hell for me.

Bush Radio reproduction of 1959 TR82 transisto...

Bush Radio reproduction of 1959 TR82 transistor portable.(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Yet, for all of that, radio and I are together again. Like long separated lovers our romance has been rekindled. Once more we are spending time together and after all of these years we’re getting to know each other all over again. We enjoy quietly listening to Radio 3 and Radio 4. We sleep peacefully to the sound of Classic FM and smile at the inane sporting enthusiasm of TalkSport. When possible we listen to our youth on Radio 2 and from time to time explore Radio Wales and even Planet Rock. Our relationship is more fulfilling and the love more deep seated and mature than in years gone by. Gone is the Party Boy and in its place I have a Bush radio that looks like it came from the 1950s. It has a big friendly dial on the front to tune to FM and AM as they’re called these days. Along the top there are the usual controls for Digital Radio and there are a few presets. Her voice is not the smoothest, but remaining a shallow adolescent I chose the Bush for its pure magnetic draw. It is a fine looking piece and its look takes me back to my childhood when every home had a fine looking Bush entertaining the household.

I do believe that the decline of radio has as much to do with intellectual laziness as does to do with other media. We all have MP3 players and CD players for our music. We have huge widescreen TVs and Blu ray players to entertain our eyes and games consoles to numb our senses and perhaps it is fitting that the humble wireless as a relic of a bygone age should be consigned to the recycle bin of history. Notwithstanding all of those distractions, the humble wireless will continue as long as there is a proportion of the population who are not contenders to be guests on The Jeremy Kyle show and actually read real books and not Kindles. These people read broadsheet newspapers and have little or no idea what a Candy Crush is or a Facebook page looks like. These people are our future, they have sufficient imagination to listen to a radio play, be entertained and enlightened by “Woman’s Hour” and laugh uproariously at “Just A Minute” and listen to music that is not heavily influenced by Simon Cowell.

Everything I had to know, I learned it from my radio.

Anyway For Now,

That’s It.

Denbow

Posted by: docdenbow | December 28, 2014

Chip Papers

English: Moore's Chip Shop A fish and chip sho...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, it’s that time of year where we all look back at what has happened in the preceding 12 months. Major news events, deaths of the famous, infamous and influential. Stuff like that, you know? You’re also supposed to take stock of your life and work out what the year has taught you and make plans and resolutions for the year to come. I’m not going to do that, mainly because I’m useless at making plans or resolutions and I’d rather left information percolate and bubble in my mind rather than concentrate hard on past events. Somebody once said words to the effect that today’s news is tomorrow’s chip papers and I view turning over 2014 to be pretty futile.

As I’m not going going to write about 2014 what, I hear you ask, am I going to write about? Should I revisit some of my past popular subjects like daft articles about NASA, Bigfoot or silly bits of American reality TV. Should I write about people’s hang-ups about the way they look and their body image? I could write about politics I suppose, but all of those subjects have been covered to a greater or lesser extent, so what now?

In the past few weeks I have kind of hit a “writers block” and feel that my mind has gone into some kind of torpor when it comes to writing. I’ve also felt that I have bugger all to say without repeating myself. Next month sees the 4th birthday of this blog and in those 48 months and nearly 350 posts I feel that I have lost something and also gained something along the way. The trouble is that I really don’t know what the “somethings” actually are and it’s those “somethings” that are stopping me from been able to write as frequently as I used to.

I do know that after some vile comments left here for me to read did rather take the wind from my sails, so much so that I took this blog offline completely for a couple of days and to be honest I think that is when I began to find expressing myself here more difficult. I’ve always written candidly about ME and found and find that thinly veiled threats made me wonder about baring all. I was called a deviant, pervert, fetishist and much more besides by those who sought me out on Twitter, Instagram and here, so I’ve been asking myself is it worth it?

Well is it? If I stop sharing my thoughts, opinions and little tales here those bastards have won, right? I have enjoyed the whole blog thing for 4 years and gained a great deal of personal pride in the simple fact that I’ve had an outlet that people seem to actually read. It strikes me that this nasty abusive commenting business is not unlike being shouted down to if you’re having a kind of intellectual argument, sort “he who shouts loudest must be right.”  They’ve been trying to make me give up my own little insignificant corner of the internet, but though I’ve been bloodied and bruised they have failed – completely. This Denbow is going to carry on with this blog and write complete and utter tosh most of the time and keep anyone who reads this happy that they are not me.

Anyway For Now,

That’s It

Denbow

Posted by: docdenbow | December 16, 2014

Duck in a Hat

Originally posted on TraceyLouise:

When did we dumb down to a point where we need a bank to coach our children in life skills? Indeed, why should a bank become involved in areas of education at all?

Barclay’s Bank have, for a while, been “helping” people master the internet; advertising on TV, firstly targeting older members of society, teaching them that internet communication is easy, at least, once they are shown how. So, why would a major bank like Barclay’s be bothered if Grandma can use Skype?

Maybe Barclay’s are just nice people who really do care?

Maybe Barclay’s think by helping the older person, they may gain new business from the older generation? Maybe they would now understand on-line banking and not queue for an hour in some branch, just to get an account balance. Maybe if that was to happen, maybe they would need less staff?

Now, Barclay’s are advertising to help young people…

View original 554 more words

Posted by: docdenbow | November 14, 2014

Artists, Intellectuals & Philosophers.

Cryptoclidus model which was used in the Chann...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Did you see that thing on t’internet the other day about the Loch Ness Monster? A “clear” photograph to prove *yawn* the existence of a massive dinosaur that lives in an enclosed fresh water lake. Conclusive I would (not) call it, but it did fill up some space on that seemingly endless resource that is the world wide web. Space, real space, is infinite. In fact space is so infinite that you’ll never get to the end of it, no matter how much petrol you put in your space car, or should that be ship? The internet is nearly the same, infinite with new stuff being added all of the time and most of it is of little or value as it’s disposable like yesterday’s newspaper.

Remember those?

N-E-W-S-P-A-P-E-R

Newspapers are fast becoming relics of a bygone age. We don’t need no education as everything we need to know is drip fed to us via continual news channels on TV that show us the horrors of the world. We watch South African miners slaughtered from our sofas (settees or couches) whilst we drink tea and munch sausage sandwiches. All our opinions are neatly packaged and drip fed to us to keep us all in check. We are just rich enough not to starve, just enough opportunities to make us aspirational and we lap it all up believing any old crap that is served up to us.

It should be some kind of heaven, like Kryten’s silicon heaven if you like. However, it isn’t as you could argue that it’s silicon hell. Clever people (or aliens) have presented the masses with technology that controls their car’s performance, regulates the temperature of their homes and help them warm up their food. It gives access to knowledge, facts and fiction, truth and lies and gives us all freedom of speech and expression. Great isn’t it, a vision of the future right here and right now.

Err, no. That’s not right. That’s not right at all. We have all of this and we abuse it. We buy iPads and all we do with them is use Facebook and post pictures of what we’re having for tea. We use Twitter to “chat” to strangers who would, I suspect, want nothing to do with you in real life. We watch YouTube videos and share our crap musical taste. We seek out pictures of kittens to share. We play games on our Xboxes wasting hour upon hour as we swig on Stella and smoke our joints rotting what’s left of our brains.

Yet for all of that there are people in the general who do use the internet in a positive and useful manner. These people are the upper echelon of the information super highway. They’re in the fast lane in their sports cars, top down, shades on, wind in their hair and the envy of all. These are the intelligentsia who own the world. The artists, the intellectuals and philosophers. Those with a story to share and  who possess insight into the human condition.

I am of course speaking of bloggers………………………

Ciao for Now,

Denbow

P.S. It’s good to have a little ol’ ramble once again.

 

 

Posted by: docdenbow | October 25, 2014

Sue The Slaphead

I seem to have lost the ability to get right royally pissed off at things that I see on telly or on news websites on the web. Perhaps the last few months the news has been ordinary with nothing to raise my hackles. I’ve tried and tried and tried to make myself indignant and I’ve gone out of my way to watch absolute detritus on the television in an effort to get annoyed enough to rest my digits on the laptop keyboard and write. Day after day I have perused my anger Viagra, The Daily Mail, and have remained totally and frustratingly impotent. Nothing. Nada. Diddly squat. My righteous indignation has transmogrified into contentment and that’s a bugger when the whole “raison-d’etre” of your blog is expressing a healthy disrespect for things that you observe.

It’s only in the last few days/weeks that my red cells have begun to bubble again heading inexorably to boiling point. Drip by drop stories have given rise to a festering sense of malevolent disenchantment at the world in which we live and the way that current affairs are reported with half truths and downright lies spoonfed to the masses. We have also seen those in the public eye makes statements that are crass, offensive and moronic in the extreme. It’s true that the usual suspects have continued to do their level best to ruin my equilibrium there have been many new entries to my “Hit Parade” of irritation. So what do I do? Do I write a dirty great list of just what it is that has pissed me off or is that an exercise in futility? No I’m not going to do that. I’m just going to write and try to make some sense as do.

Maybe my thoughts on the news are just theories about how things are reported but they are my theories.

So where do I start? Let’s get this party started with Mr Donald Trump. Ah, Donald, Donny, Don; where indeed do I start? This is a man who has contributed towards the destruction of the ozone layer by means of the ridiculous amount of hairspray he uses to enable the world’s most idiotic combover. He’s been involved in a Twitter spat with with Russell Brand. Now before I continue any further I’ve got to say 2 things here.

I like Russell Brand
I don’t like Donald Trump

Russell went on TV in America to talk about his book. Donny Baby obviously got the hump with the way Russell was criticizing major corporations so he fired off a Tweet that showed his rapier like wit and massive intellect. So what did he say? He called Russell a ‘major loser’ and the whole world was left reeling. That was okay, but when Russell retaliated Chump sent messages to Russell’s ex wife which I think is borderline trolling. I have already said that I don’t like Donny Baby Chump, but beyond the fact that I don’t like him, I believe him to be dangerous. Taking to Twitter (again) to refer to President Obama as a ”psycho” is of questionable morality, libellous and incendiary given that many Americans distrust Obama for no other reason than the colour of his skin.

Mr Obama should perhaps sue the slaphead for everything he’s got.

Ciao For Now

Denbow

 

Posted by: docdenbow | October 13, 2014

Is My Name Denbow?

English: iPad 2 with Smart Cover running iMovie.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In my peripheral vision as I scour the news on the web I keep seeing references to nudie photographs that have been leaked. These photographs are of celebrities with whom I am completely and utterly unfamiliar. Yes, it is intrusive for someone to publish photographs of new naked on the internet or anywhere else without your permission and approval. However, storing nudie pictures on a cloud based server is stupid and idiotic to the extreme.

If there were any pictures of me naked that I wanted to keep private then there are a few places that I would certainly not store them. There are a few places that I would store them but it seems that the rich and famous are too stupid to secure their personal files. If these hackers can grab a few pictures of breasts and bums from iCloud, I wonder what else they could get.

In this digital age most of us take a plethora of meaningless snapshots and clutter up cyberspace in order to preserve “memories.” Instagram, Snapchat (dunno what that is BTW), Facebook and Twitter get filled to the rafters with examples of complete and utter pointless examples of the art of bad photography. Facebook is far and away the worst for pointless JPegs (geek speak) How many times have you seen something like “Vacuous  Airhead added  3,000 photos 1 hour ago?”

I would mind so much if the said photos were even remotely interesting. You know, something like landscapes, seascapes, cityscapes even.  What do we get? Endless “nom nom” lunch photos, their kids and weddings. Just like celebs not securing their naked selfies, parents across the world post pictures of their children to Facebook for the entire world to find. To make it even worse they say where they are making it easier for :-

  • A thief to empty their home of valuables.
  • Someone to know exactly where they are.

It’s the weddings I hate the most. Now don’t get me wrong I love a good wedding photograph when I actually know the people getting married. Yet when the wedding photos are of someone I have never met, never likely to and frankly don’t want to judging by the pictures I have to draw the line. Moreover what compounds the whole sorry state of affairs is when the individual who has posted them is someone I accepted a friend request from because I met them once in 2011. I mean, call me a miserable git if you like but why on earth do people think that I’m interested?

I’m just as bad. I bung pointless snapshots on Instagram. These are mainly of our dog Daisy (aka The Duke), the new decking and photographic evidence of my ability to pick up a glasses case with my almost prehensile toes. I tend to stick my pictures just on Instagram so that I can see them and if anyone is remotely interested in my photographic diary they’re welcome to have a look as it is entirely up to them. There are a few people that I follow on Instagram and I like looking at their photos as they’re not foisted on me everytime I look at some corner of the world of social networking. That’s the way it should be.

That is the whole problem with social networking and blogging as well if you think about it. It’s just one massive ego trip. I’m writing this thinking that I have something profound to say, I post photos to Instagram and Facebook to illustrate how much better my life is than yours and I post to Twitter to prove I am quick witted. Yet, in real life I’m not that. I don’t have a big ego. I don’t say profound things and my life is no better than yours.

Social networking?

It’s little more than a veil with which to mask your true self and your true identity and to live out paranoid fantasies.

And is my name Denbow?

Am I a Doctor?

What do you think?

Ciao For now,

Denbow xxx


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