No Biscuits

I’ve just been musing with a mate on WhatsApp about a world without biscuits. Isn’t it weird the places your mind takes you to when you’re bored? Transcript below:

Just imagine a world without biscuits. There would be carnage! Thank God (I have chosen Dionysus, the Greek God of wine, intoxication, chaos, and ritual frenzy, as today’s deity) for biscuits!

BTW, Dionysus had the power to bring the dead back to life. A power that was bestowed on him by his father, Zeus. Zeus had resurrected the young Dionysus after the Titans had lured him into their cave, slit his throat, chopped him up and roasted him for dinner! It came back to kick them in the arse though, as it was then that Zeus, having finally had enough of the old gods, killed them all! Dionysus also had the power to induce mass hysteria and madness. What a dude eh?

At least I think that’s right, you may want to google him to double-check, my Greek mythology is a bit hazy these days.

Whilst I’m procrastinating about gods instead of doing any housework, did you know the story of Noah’s Ark was actually plagiarised from a much older Sumerian story?

From what I can remember the story first appeared around 2000BC, a full 1000 years before the Biblical version, in the tales of Atrahasis and Gilgamesh. In the Sumerian story, a dude called Atrahasis is told, by the gods, to build an Ark to preserve the species of the Earth from the Deluge, as they called it.

The Sumerians had a shed load of gods, all led by the big three. Anu, who was in charge of the sky, Enlil, who looked after the earth, and Enki, who lived in the oceans. Now, these three were normally squabbling amongst themselves, but having finally had enough of the humans they had created mucking things up on the Earth, they put their differences to one side, clubbed together and sent the Deluge to wipe out mankind.

Just like the story of Noah in the Bible.

It’s quite interesting reading, if you ever get the chance. Atrahasis and Gilgamesh. There’s a lot of similarities between the Sumerian writings and the Old Testament, with plagues and famines and droughts being sent by the gods to sort out man before finally reaching tether’s end and flooding the world to get rid of him.

And to think people actually believe all this shit actually happened for real and was done by the One God? Just goes to show how gullible humans are.

n.b. You might want to fact check this as it’s been a very long time since I studied any of this stuff.

Another poem

I used to write a lot of poetry and stuff when I was younger. I don’t seem to do it so much these days. Here’s another one, from years ago. It’s called Annabel.

Annabel tries,
but misunderstands.
The memories of yesterday,
the shadows of time,
lay up upon her mind.
She’ll try to run away,
on to another day,
she’ll pray for rain today,
but, the sun is awake.

If you wanted to try singing it, it works to the tune of See Emily Play, an early Pink Floyd song.

Has someone been to rude to you on the phone?

Somebody was rude to my best work friend today on the phone. I told her that if and when they call back to tell them:

“My mate Mal has a very particular set of skills, skills he has acquired over a very long career. Skills that make him a nightmare for people like you. If you apologise for your rudeness, that’ll be the end of it. He will not look for you, he will not pursue you, but if you don’t, he will look for you, he will find you, and he will smash your face in.”

It just occurred to me that should any of you lovely readers of my blog have a similar issue, please feel free to say the same to whoever has been rude to you on the phone. If they fail to apologise, leave as many details as you can in the comments section and I shall follow through on my promise to avenge you.

Boris

A guy in my local, who’s very pro Boris, asked me recently what I thought of our new Prime Minister. He was a bit taken back when I said “I think he’s an obnoxious, duplicitious, bare faced lying cunt who I wouldn’t trust to make a decent cup of tea let alone lead the country at this most perilous of times”. I also said a lot more but finished with “I’ll ask you the same question after he and his duplicitous little minions have fucked this country and his head is on a spike outside the Bloody Tower after the coming civil war. Providing your head isn’t on a spike outside Norwich Castle, of course”

He said I was being a tad over dramatic.

I mentioned this to a friend of mine who responded with “I agree with every word you say! Perhaps best for me not to meet your friend!” Before finishing with “I think we are already in a very British Civil War, happily without weapons, yet…”

To which my response was

“A war I fear we are losing. I suspect all this is going to have long lasting ramifications on politics, and indeed, society and our culture as a whole. The beginning of the end of our civilisation as we know it. Let’s hope the next one’s a better one”

Fingers crossed eh?

A slightly boring Saturday morning.

This morning I find myself sitting in the Kia Dealership in Thetford while I await our Sorento to have it’s first MOT. It’s hard to believe we’ve had it three years already. And in those three years all sorts of things have happened. I’ve gone from a crappy contract position to a year at home as a stay at home dad to being in regularly full time employment for the first time in years, and almost having, but managing to avoid, another self inflicted, stress induced breakdown last year. The kids have grown older, T has gone from pre-school to reception to year one at school and seems to be doing OK, despite his focus issues and general lack of attention to anything! E has gone from crawling to walking to talking and generally being a very bossy nearly four year old. Both of them are absolutely amazing and so very different to each other but on the whole get along excellently. L has had to have several teeth removed, but seems a much happier Labrador. She must have been in so much pain for so long, poor pooch. So with time on my hands while I await the fate of the MOT I’ve managed to add this quick blog post, and I’ve got a cupful of liquid that is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea. I do miss Douglas Adams.

The Edge of Forever

I stopped, thrusting my ski poles into the crisp snow as I did so and pulled down my scarf, lifting my goggles to take a good look around me, I unclipped my supply sledge from its harness and turned in a slow circle, taking in everything around me, my sharp breaths turning to vapour that froze in my beard as I did so.

All around me was whiteness, as far as the eye could see. Above me the sky was a brilliant blue, the single slab of azure a stark contrast to the white at the horizon. The sun beat down on the shimmering landscape, creating millions upon millions of glistering ice diamonds, I could just feel its heat, almost imperceptible against the cold and offering no respite from the biting coldness in the crisp air.

As my eyes adjusted to the brightness I began to make out in the distance, a dark blue line slicing through the icy whiteness that lay ahead of me. Re-coupling my sledge, I pulled up my scarf, adjusted my goggles, and gripping my ski poles set off, trudging purposefully forward. As I drew closer to it the ominous line grew darker and wider, snaking into a massive crack from left to right, from horizon to horizon, taking up the whole of the periphery of my vision. I carried on towards the growing and darkening crack that lay ahead of me and it wasn’t too long until I reached it, a wide gaping crevasse across my path.

I left my sledge and walked along the edge in each direction, looking for somewhere to cross. There was no natural snow bridge, and the best I could find was a spot that seemed no more than ten to twelve feet across. Having retrieved my sledge, I tied the harness fastening to my ice axe and hurled the trusty tool across to the other side, followed by my back pack and walking poles. Then, tentatively, I crept to the edge and peered over, it felt as if I was standing at the edge of forever, I’m not very good at heights, and this was particularly high, at a guess, and having thoroughly researched the ice sheet I was traversing, it must have been over 2500 feet deep, dropping into blackness and descending into the very bowels of the earth.

I took several meaningful strides back, as if pacing out my run to bowl at a demon batsman, and before I could give myself time to think about what I was about to do, I turned and ran at the gap as fast as I could and launched myself into the air, landing heavily but with no injury on the other side. I retrieved my axe from the ground and began the long and slow job of hauling my sledge across from the other side, using all my effort to prevent it falling into the void and taking me with it.

Exhausted, but with all my belongings and myself now safely on the other side, I sat on my sledge to rest, waiting for the thumping in my chest to abate before resuming my journey across the beautiful white wilderness.

Prompted by this page