Instruction Manuals
I try not to let the failings of contemporary capitalism get to me but such a mindset is very hard to maintain. From time to time it does just piss you off and you know damn well that there’s nothing you can do about it. So to begin this tale, at the end of November, our Indesit washer/dryer gave up the ghost after a valiant twelve year lifespan. As a result of this household appliance’s stirling work, it was decided to buy another from the same manufacturer. Their website informed me that the model that had just broken was no longer being produced. However, it recommended two newer appliances that had comparable specifications and more importantly the same size. This washer/dryer had to fit into a fitted kitchen unit. To cut a long story short, a model was chosen, purchased, delivered within 48 hours and installed. The broken predecessor was subsequently taken away. The wonders of modern consumer culture!
I try not to let the failings of contemporary capitalism get to me but such a mindset is very hard to maintain. From time to time it does just piss you off and you know damn well that there’s nothing you can do about it. So to begin this tale, at the end of November, our Indesit washer/dryer gave up the ghost after a valiant twelve year lifespan. As a result of this household appliance’s stirling work, it was decided to buy another from the same manufacturer. Their website informed me that the model that had just broken was no longer being produced. However, it recommended two newer appliances that had comparable specifications and more importantly the same size. This washer/dryer had to fit into a fitted kitchen unit. To cut a long story short, a model was chosen, purchased, delivered within 48 hours and installed. The broken predecessor was subsequently taken away. The wonders of modern consumer culture!
The aforementioned process all sounds very good, doesn’t it? Broadly speaking it is. All that there was left to do was to come to grips with the operation of the new washer/dryer. However, there was one small thing that proved to be a major impediment to this process. We didn’t get a physical manual with the appliance. It would appear that getting any printed instructions with white goods nowadays is a thing of the past. To put this succinctly, that is a fucking nuisance. A manual is immediate, by which I mean it is close to hand and can be quickly perused. It is also wholly independent of any other requirement. You just need hands and the ability to read and think, to use it. Sadly, the time, effort and cost it takes to produce a printed manual has been deemed far too excessive and the ruination of the bottom line according to big corporations. So they have been dispensed with.
If you find yourself sans manual for the device you’ve just purchased, fear not. You can always go to the manufacturers website and download a PDF version. All you require is a phone or PC with internet access along with some PDF reading software. You also need to know what the fuck you’re doing. Because all the aforementioned steps come with an assumption of knowledge, experience and a willingness to use technology. Something that a substantial number of customers may not wish to do, or be able to do. Now in my case, I sought out an appropriate PDF version of the instruction manual which I then printed out. Mrs P who is the primary user of the household washer/dryer for “reasons”, doesn’t warm to technology based solutions. Hence presenting here with a printed (and stapled) manual was a step forward in addressing this problem.
Most modern washer/dryers come with a wealth of bespoke washing cycles for all sorts of situations and scenarios. Have you spilt sancerre on your cravat? Do you need to get blood out of your chinos after dismembering a corpse? Are you having to do an emergency wash of whatever your grandson was wearing to get god knows what off his clothes? That sort of thing. However, most households tend to use two or so washes at most, for their daily requirements. The thing is this becomes quite difficult to determine, if the PDF instructions are poorly written/translated and also have graphics missing from the PDF. Graphics that represent the appropriate buttons on the sodding washer/dryer. Oh how we laughed (we fucking didn’t). We managed to guess some functionality but ended up having to watch a YouTube video by a helpful engineer. He had a regional accent.
Let it suffice to say that after an online search, it would seem that a lot of other people who bought the same make and model of washer/dryer, were equally pissed off by the lack of a manual and the utterly shit quality of the PDF instructions. One person was attempting to rewrite and share them online but had been told to “cease and desist” by the manufacturers. The mind boggles. Having online resources is fine in principle, as there are always people who are happy to use their phones. However, online resources should not be the only means of providing instructions for a product. Not everyone uses their phone in such a fashion. Not everyone is familiar with PDF files. Not everyone wants to search for the answers via YouTube. But untrammelled capitalism is self-serving and cuntish by nature. Unless legally compelled to do something it seldom does so by default. Hence my and others desire for printed manuals is ultimately irrelevant. “Grr”. Shakes fist at clouds etc.
I am getting old. I shall be 58 in December. Now, as soon as you say something like that these days, some folk will get uncomfortable and say things like “age is relative” or “you’re as old as you feel”. Well I don’t measure my age in geological terms, so it’s not relative and I’m not feeling anyone especially young at the moment, so both schools or thoughts can sod off. I am getting old by the yardstick we measure human life by, namely years. I have specific, age related health issues and I just don’t feel as energised as I did a decade ago. There are minor signs, such as deciding to go to bed earlier and taking longer to get dressed after taking a shower. I’m not at death’s door but I am slowing up physically. It would also appear that my reactions are also slowing down as I tend to get massacred in any FPS I play these days. So far, my mental faculties seem to be holding up. However, that is the one thing I worry about the most. The potential loss of cognitive abilities scares the shit out of me.
Prior to writing this post, I clocked a picture on a news website of the now disgraced TV presenter (and nonce) Gregg Wallace. I noticed that he doesn’t smile as such but tends to “gurn” instead. So does UK politician (and cunt) Nigel Farage. He always has his mouth open and his face contorted in some curious rictus, in most of the pictures you see of him. Mind you, I also don’t photograph especially well and any pictures of me smiling tend to look sinister or with a heavy hint of irony. The bottom line is not everyone is good at smiling. It doesn’t come naturally to all of us. This can be a problem at times or in social situations, because smiling is an integral part of our culture. On many occasions, I’ve been walking along, my face in a state of natural repose, only to be harangued by some twat shouting “cheer up, it may never happen”. A phrase I haven’t quite fathomed out, even to this day.
Last night Mrs P said apropos of nothing, “shall we go and see John Bishop”? For those who don’t know, John Bishop is an established UK comedian who is currently touring the country. So I went online and checked the details of his tour. We were quite happy to travel to see his show as it would provide an opportunity for a weekend away. Sadly, to cut a long story short we were unable to secure any tickets that suited our needs. From January to April, the tour is mainly using smaller venues such as local theatres and art centres. Later in the year during October and November, the tour moves to arenas, conference centres and stadiums. I find these very impersonal and don’t see any merit in sitting far away from the stage, watching an artist on a giant video screen. We had hoped we could get tickets at one of the smaller theatres but sadly we couldn’t find two seats together.
I recently “tooted” on Mastodon “sometimes it’s a real drag to be the person who always has their shit together”. Although meant humorously, there was an element of truth to the remark. Allow me to explain. I always have a shopping bag in my coat pocket. Our household always has a supply of those things that you often run out of or need occasionally. Such as AA batteries, stamps and envelopes. If Mrs P and I are going out for the day, we’ll check the weather and traffic before we set off. There’s always a spare toner and drum unit for the printer, as well as paper. We’ll book a table at our favourite restaurant in advance of going to the West End show. Why do we do these things? Because we’re organised. I’m not trying to be smug about it, that’s just our default position and how we were raised. Perhaps it’s a generational thing?
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I am getting old. I shall be 58 in December. Now, as soon as you say something like that these days, some folk will get uncomfortable and say things like “age is relative” or “you’re as old as you feel”. Well I don’t measure my age in geological terms, so it’s not relative and I’m not feeling anyone especially young at the moment, so both schools or thoughts can sod off. I am getting old by the yardstick we measure human life by, namely years. I have specific, age related health issues and I just don’t feel as energised as I did a decade ago. There are minor signs, such as deciding to go to bed earlier and taking longer to get dressed after taking a shower. I’m not at death’s door but I am slowing up physically. It would also appear that my reactions are also slowing down as I tend to get massacred in any FPS I play these days. So far, my mental faculties seem to be holding up. However, that is the one thing I worry about the most. The potential loss of cognitive abilities scares the shit out of me.
I am getting old. I shall be 58 in December. Now, as soon as you say something like that these days, some folk will get uncomfortable and say things like “age is relative” or “you’re as old as you feel”. Well I don’t measure my age in geological terms, so it’s not relative and I’m not feeling anyone especially young at the moment, so both schools or thoughts can sod off. I am getting old by the yardstick we measure human life by, namely years. I have specific, age related health issues and I just don’t feel as energised as I did a decade ago. There are minor signs, such as deciding to go to bed earlier and taking longer to get dressed after taking a shower. I’m not at death’s door but I am slowing up physically. It would also appear that my reactions are also slowing down as I tend to get massacred in any FPS I play these days. So far, my mental faculties seem to be holding up. However, that is the one thing I worry about the most. The potential loss of cognitive abilities scares the shit out of me.
As you get older, you tend to become more philosophical. Possibly because you have less immediate demands upon you, so you have more time to think and reflect upon “life, the universe and everything”. These musings are vastly different from those you had with your friends, as a teenager. Those late night discussions were often ill informed, naive and tempered by substance abuse. The sort of personal reflections I indulge in now are couched in hard experiences and not all of them are good. I also have a lifetime association with organised religion, both tangential and direct, to draw upon. Another factor is that I’ve read prodigiously over the course of my life, across a range of disciplines. Hence, I reached a point in my life where it is assumed by my peers that I should know something by now. I’ve even had a younger acquaintance ask me if I’m any closer to figuring it all out.
Well it is my considered opinion that all questions about the so-called meaning of life are pretty much pointless. Why, you ask? Because there basically isn’t one. Human life on this planet is just an accidental by product of other natural processes. There isn’t a plan. There’s nothing next, it doesn’t get better and your time here is broadly irrelevant and futile. Not futile enough for me to top myself. There are still plenty of pointless distractions to pursue or indulge in the meantime. But overall, what you see is what you get in life. Through a caprice of birth you either get lucky and have decades of hedonistic pleasure, or you work hard for not much and experience intermittent moments of joy, or you have an utterly terrible life filled with pain, suffering and misery. Life is inherently unfair and human beings continuously act against their own best interests. If you pick up a history book you’ll see that we make the same mistakes, again and again. Like Electronic Arts.
So what do you do in light of this revelation? Well it’s up to us to impose our own meaning and purpose upon our lives. Also, accept the fact that some things are nothing more than the sum of their parts. One of the questions that has always gotten on my Tatty Bojangles is this “science can explain the how and why but not the meaning”. Well Colin, because it’s always some p’tak called Colin who trots this drivel out, have you ever considered that there’s no requirement for everything to have a meaning? But I digress, if you’re finding it hard, coming up with ideas for the purpose of life, consider this one. “Try to be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try to live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations”. If that’s too complex, how about this one? “Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always”. Even to Colin, I guess.
I try not to let the failings of contemporary capitalism get to me but such a mindset is very hard to maintain. From time to time it does just piss you off and you know damn well that there’s nothing you can do about it. So to begin this tale, at the end of November, our Indesit washer/dryer gave up the ghost after a valiant twelve year lifespan. As a result of this household appliance’s stirling work, it was decided to buy another from the same manufacturer. Their website informed me that the model that had just broken was no longer being produced. However, it recommended two newer appliances that had comparable specifications and more importantly the same size. This washer/dryer had to fit into a fitted kitchen unit. To cut a long story short, a model was chosen, purchased, delivered within 48 hours and installed. The broken predecessor was subsequently taken away. The wonders of modern consumer culture!
I am getting old. I shall be 58 in December. Now, as soon as you say something like that these days, some folk will get uncomfortable and say things like “age is relative” or “you’re as old as you feel”. Well I don’t measure my age in geological terms, so it’s not relative and I’m not feeling anyone especially young at the moment, so both schools or thoughts can sod off. I am getting old by the yardstick we measure human life by, namely years. I have specific, age related health issues and I just don’t feel as energised as I did a decade ago. There are minor signs, such as deciding to go to bed earlier and taking longer to get dressed after taking a shower. I’m not at death’s door but I am slowing up physically. It would also appear that my reactions are also slowing down as I tend to get massacred in any FPS I play these days. So far, my mental faculties seem to be holding up. However, that is the one thing I worry about the most. The potential loss of cognitive abilities scares the shit out of me.
Prior to writing this post, I clocked a picture on a news website of the now disgraced TV presenter (and nonce) Gregg Wallace. I noticed that he doesn’t smile as such but tends to “gurn” instead. So does UK politician (and cunt) Nigel Farage. He always has his mouth open and his face contorted in some curious rictus, in most of the pictures you see of him. Mind you, I also don’t photograph especially well and any pictures of me smiling tend to look sinister or with a heavy hint of irony. The bottom line is not everyone is good at smiling. It doesn’t come naturally to all of us. This can be a problem at times or in social situations, because smiling is an integral part of our culture. On many occasions, I’ve been walking along, my face in a state of natural repose, only to be harangued by some twat shouting “cheer up, it may never happen”. A phrase I haven’t quite fathomed out, even to this day.
Last night Mrs P said apropos of nothing, “shall we go and see John Bishop”? For those who don’t know, John Bishop is an established UK comedian who is currently touring the country. So I went online and checked the details of his tour. We were quite happy to travel to see his show as it would provide an opportunity for a weekend away. Sadly, to cut a long story short we were unable to secure any tickets that suited our needs. From January to April, the tour is mainly using smaller venues such as local theatres and art centres. Later in the year during October and November, the tour moves to arenas, conference centres and stadiums. I find these very impersonal and don’t see any merit in sitting far away from the stage, watching an artist on a giant video screen. We had hoped we could get tickets at one of the smaller theatres but sadly we couldn’t find two seats together.
I recently “tooted” on Mastodon “sometimes it’s a real drag to be the person who always has their shit together”. Although meant humorously, there was an element of truth to the remark. Allow me to explain. I always have a shopping bag in my coat pocket. Our household always has a supply of those things that you often run out of or need occasionally. Such as AA batteries, stamps and envelopes. If Mrs P and I are going out for the day, we’ll check the weather and traffic before we set off. There’s always a spare toner and drum unit for the printer, as well as paper. We’ll book a table at our favourite restaurant in advance of going to the West End show. Why do we do these things? Because we’re organised. I’m not trying to be smug about it, that’s just our default position and how we were raised. Perhaps it’s a generational thing?
Smiling
Prior to writing this post, I clocked a picture on a news website of the now disgraced TV presenter (and nonce) Gregg Wallace. I noticed that he doesn’t smile as such but tends to “gurn” instead. So does UK politician (and cunt) Nigel Farage. He always has his mouth open and his face contorted in some curious rictus, in most of the pictures you see of him. Mind you, I also don’t photograph especially well and any pictures of me smiling tend to look sinister or with a heavy hint of irony. The bottom line is not everyone is good at smiling. It doesn’t come naturally to all of us. This can be a problem at times or in social situations, because smiling is an integral part of our culture. On many occasions, I’ve been walking along, my face in a state of natural repose, only to be harangued by some twat shouting “cheer up, it may never happen”. A phrase I haven’t quite fathomed out, even to this day.
Conrad Veidt as Gwynplaine, in The Man Who Laughs (1928)
Prior to writing this post, I clocked a picture on a news website of the now disgraced TV presenter (and nonce) Gregg Wallace. I noticed that he doesn’t smile as such but tends to “gurn” instead. So does UK politician (and cunt) Nigel Farage. He always has his mouth open and his face contorted in some curious rictus, in most of the pictures you see of him. Mind you, I also don’t photograph especially well and any pictures of me smiling tend to look sinister or with a heavy hint of irony. The bottom line is not everyone is good at smiling. It doesn’t come naturally to all of us. This can be a problem at times or in social situations, because smiling is an integral part of our culture. On many occasions, I’ve been walking along, my face in a state of natural repose, only to be harangued by some twat shouting “cheer up, it may never happen”. A phrase I haven’t quite fathomed out, even to this day.
Firstly, let us first define what smiling is. According to Google, to smile is “to form one’s features into a pleased, kind, or amused expression, typically with the corners of the mouth turned up and the front teeth exposed”. As to the function of smiling within society, it is a powerful form of non-verbal communication that serves multiple functions. These include expressing emotions, improving mood, and influencing social interactions. It's a universal signal of happiness and can foster positive connections with others. It is a tool for social bonding and has positive benefits such as stress reduction and mood enhancement. Outside of human society among the other primates, smiling primarily serves as a social signal, often indicating appeasement, submission, or even fear, rather than a straightforward expression of happiness. Fascinating stuff.
Amanda Bearse in Fright Night (1985)
Setting aside the sociological and behavioural complexities of smiling, let us focus on the realities of smiling in society. Smiling is a facet of expected behaviour. On paper that’s not such a bad thing. A smile lets other people know that things are okay. It can be a polite social nicety like saying please and thank you. However, there is scope for this simple social cue to become a far more tyrannical tool, especially for women. Across most forms of media, it is rare to find an image of a woman who is not smiling. Something which is not true of men. Research shows that women smile 62 times per day on average, while men smile only 8 times. Smiling is therefore seen by many as a social expectation, even obligation. A curious offshoot of asking how someone is, with the understanding that you don’t answer negatively. Hence, the cat calls and the aforementioned comments.
One of the things that boils my piss, to invoke a contemporary expression, is the inherently flawed assumption that if you’re not smiling, you’re unhappy. My default facial expression is one of repose. IE neutral. I am not in any specific emotional state and more than likely contemplating something like a sandwich or what are the toilets like in Star Trek. The complexities of my psychological disposition, conveyed via the medium of my face, is obviously too complex a concept for some people who exist in a simple binary state. They, however, they can fuck off with their unwarranted social expectations. I will smile as and when I see fit and not before. I believe that any form of social expression, if used ad nauseum, loses its value. Which is exactly what has happened to smiling. Those who smile incessantly are either lying bastards, trying to sell you something or a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic.
When I was a child, I quickly learned never to say within earshot of my parents that I was bored. It was quickly met with a response along the lines of “an intelligent mind is never bored” or more worryingly “if you’ve got nothing to do, I’ll find you something” which meant a chore or Herculean task. Being a child of the seventies and due to my parents fundamentalist approach to declarations of boredom, I quickly discovered numerous ways to occupy myself. The default solution was a book or comic. I always liked reading as a child and had plenty of books to choose from. I also had numerous of comics as an alternative to a hefty tome. I would also draw and paint. My father use to work during the summer holidays as a design draftsman and as a result, we always had plenty of paper in our house. Then of course there were toys and such like. Hence I learned the art of keeping myself busy.
When I first started this series of posts back in 2023, they were originally intended to provide a useful overview into UK (mainly British) slang. US slang is ubiquitous globally due to the pervasive nature of American culture. Hence most people have a good grasp of its nuances. However, the proverbial door does not swing both ways. Hence most people will watch British TV dramas or read popular novels and can be quite bamboozled by some of the phrases that are used. That is what I was trying to address. However, over time this entire enterprise now reads like a some sort of Guy Ritchie film with Colin as the anti-hero. That notwithstanding, hopefully the list of slang phrases below will prove useful to know, if you ever visit the UK or tour around London. As ever I have given an example of their respective use. Feel free to ask questions if anything needs clarifying, or you wish to leave a comment with examples of you’re own national and regional slang.
As I write this post, the temperature in Greater London is 33°C (91.4°F). This has become a regular occurrence since the middle of May onwards. High temperatures are fine when you’re on holiday mainly because you’re off work and at your leisure. You don’t have to perform the usual daily task that life requires of you such as work, shop, cook, clean etc. Furthermore, if you’re on vacation you’ll probably be staying at a resort or hotel that is fully air conditioned and you’re dressed accordingly. However, if you’re still performing you’re daily routine such as commuting to work and spending time in an office that wasn’t built with such external temperatures in mind, then 33°C is frankly a pain in the ass. Oh and if you’re one of those people who always respond to discussions such as this with “well I live in Riyadh and it’s 40°C here”, please sod off. You live in a desert which is dumb to begin with. Plus this is not a commensurate comparison. Temperatures are rising in the UK. It’s always hot in Saudi Arabia.
If you visit the websites for such UK tabloid newspapers as the Daily Express or the Daily Mail you will no doubt encounter prominent stories about Megan Markle, Nigel Farage and “immigrants”. If these two august institutions are short of column inches, they’ll run a piece about how some former celebrity has had the unmitigated gall and temerity to get old. I mean WTF? How dare they do what human beings are genetically disposed to do. It’s outrageous. Similarly, head over to the Unherd website and you’ll find foam flecked tirades regarding spurious points of contention over dubious subjects. Often the topic being harangued is incredibly niche and I’ve never heard of it before or even considered it being a thing. These sort of talking points are not about informing, debating and most certainly aren’t about thinking. They exist to provoke reactions.
Before we start, let me explain to those readers outside of the UK, the significance of a Dairy Milk Freddo chocolate bar and its relevance to this post. The “Freddo” is an 18g (0.63 oz) chocolate bar, in the shape of an anthropomorphic frog. When it was re-launched by Cadbury in 1990 (it had previously been manufactured by an Australian confectionery company in the seventies), it was priced at 10p (£0.10). It remained at that price until 2005 when a 1p to 2p increase began to occur each year. By 2016 Freddos were retailing at 25p. However, the following year the price “lept” to 30p with an increase that was double its usual yearly rise. This led to public outrage across social media. Since then the price of a Freddo has waxed and waned. Tesco supermarket reduced the price back to 10p as part of their centenary celebrations. The post COVID price in 2022 hit 49p. At present, the average price of a Freddo in the UK is somewhere around 35p.
Over the last 10 years, I’ve written several blog posts about my personal working experiences and my career, such as it was. I touched upon working specifically in IT and how that industry changed over time, both technically and in the way that other people perceived it. I have also given my thoughts on the social dynamics of the modern work environment and the way we interact with our colleagues and employers. That is another area that has changed dramatically. Naturally my retirement from full time work has been written about, as it is such a radical change in one’s life. Especially if you’re the sort of person who is clearly defined by their job, which I personally was not. This time, I want to share a few thoughts I have about what I miss about “going to work” and “having a job”. I’m not sure if “miss” is the right word. Perhaps it is more a question of things being absent. Either way, there are some aspects of being employed that I use to enjoy or at least found beneficial that I now no longer experience.
UK Prime Minister, Sir Keir Starmer has resigned and intends to leave office before the parliamentary summer recess. By then Andy Burnham will more than likely be voted leader of the Labour Party and by default will become the new Prime Minister. Due to the current size of the incumbent Government’s majority, there is no pressing reason for a General Election that the UK’s right wing tabloid press is currently calling for. Whether this provides the Government with the reset they’re hoping for when Parliament reconvenes in autumn remains to be seen. With seven Prime Ministers coming and going in a decade, there are some serious questions to be asked about the current state of UK politics. However, the mechanics of contemporary politics, the decline of clearly defined ideologies and the people that seek elected office to be our leaders are only half of the problem. The other major impediment to the UK’s democracy functioning properly is the electorate.
The UK Government has formerly announced its intention to ban under-16s from using social media. This is due to increasing public pressure that “something must be done” about the perceived iniquities of many online platforms. However, as with most complex social problems of this nature, no one has any clear or practical ideas as to what that “something” is. It remains a nebulous, non-specific panacea and clearly someone else’s job to identify and implement. As ever, why choose a nuanced and multifaceted solution to a complex problem, when it is far easier and politically expedient to just “ban” something. The former requires effort and a degree of thinking. If such an approach fails it also means that those who came up with it now carry the can. The latter dumps the problem in the lap of various third parties, who can then be conveniently blamed when the ill conceived policy fails.
Every Thursday, Mrs P volunteers at a food bank that is run from a local church; Avery Hill Christian Fellowship. Today there was a shortage of staff so I agreed to help out. It proved to be an equitable arrangement as she collated the various orders and I packed the bags and took them to the respective clients. The food bank itself is organised and administered by the Trussell Trust, a UK based NGO and charity providing emergency food and support to people locked in poverty. It is open for 2 to 3 hours a week depending upon demand. During today’s session we served just six people. Some weeks its can be triple that amount. Upon closure, a member of staff from the Trussel Trust did a stock take and collated a list of what was needed. This is provided by various local church communities via parishioners donations, as well as local supermarkets who have an arrangement with the trust to provide surplus stock or good approaching the end of their sales window.
There are approximately 4000 parks and green spaces in Greater London. Bexley Borough alone has over 100. Public parks and green spaces are vital to modern cities, providing essential health, environmental and social benefits. They boost physical and mental wellbeing by reducing stress and providing a place for exercise. Furthermore they enhance urban sustainability, mitigate heat, and provide a sustainable environment for a wildlife. Parks are often a venue for social activities and events and as such are an important part of the local community. Going to the park has always been a part of my life. I live next to Old Farm Park in Sidcup and have made use of this recreational space throughout my life. I used visit with my parents in the seventies, when I was a child. Thirty years later my son, father in-law and I would fly kites there. Now I take my grandchildren to Old Farm Park as it now has a playground.
Being a 58 year old man, I welcome any undertaking which can potentially improve my health. One such thing is proactive screening and testing. The UK National Health Service has started doing a lot more of this in recent years, mainly because diagnosing a problem and treating it early is far more efficient and cost effective than retroactive action. Hence this policy and my age is why I was recently sent a NHS Bowel Cancer Test Kit via the post. This screening service takes place every two years for people aged 50 to 74 in the UK. The kit is very quick and simple to use. A sample of your stool is sent via a prepaid return envelope for testing and the entire process is free of charge. Upon receipt, the laboratory test determines whether there is any blood present in your stool, which is a potential indicator of bowel cancer. If detected, an early diagnosis greatly improves any subsequent treatment outcomes.
I like learning things. I always have. During my middle school years I thought I was a mediocre student and often I wouldn’t apply myself. According to an old school report this was because I was “too busy indulging in Tomfoolery”. Then I had the positive experience of meeting an exceptional teacher. Their lessons were the highlight of the week as they had an ability to make the subject matter, Classical History, utterly compelling and relevant. The teacher in question also treated us like adults and the class benefitted from only having five pupils. This really brought home to me that a lot of disinterest and underachievement in education is linked to the paucity of some teachers. One bad teacher can undermine the good work that all the others can do. Perhaps it has improved nowadays?
I’ve had an interest in the paranormal since I was a child. My mother always got books out of the library about ghosts and UFO phenomenon, so in some respects I was influenced by her reading habits. As a child such tales were by default interesting and any potentially scary element naturally made them more enjoyable. However, my father being an academic had taught me to question everything, so I felt fairly evenly equipped when exploring these subjects. Further to this point, over the years I have learned that humans have a very unique perspective on the world. We are hard wired to see patterns, regardless of whether they’re there or not. Our senses can also be fooled and often are. Perhaps the most important aspect of our nature that impacts upon any analysis we make into the paranormal is our penchant for creating stories. Hence unusual experiences can be subconsciously misremembered and “retconned” to form more precise narratives.
I have lived in Sidcup, in South East London, for most of my life. The first two schools that I went to were local and within 15 minutes walking distance. My Doctor’s Surgery and Dentist are only a few streets away, as is the barbershop that I’ve frequented since 1970. I now have my haircut by the son of the original barber. My point being that Sidcup has everything that residents immediately need. There’s a local hospital, good public transport networks and a broad range of shopping and restaurant facilities. It also has several parks with lakes, sport facilities and children’s play areas. It is a microcosm of the concept of suburbia with its residents commuting into Central London or out into Kent for work. People move here to raise families and end up staying. My parents lived here for 62 years.
Our household is currently trying to reduce our monthly overheads in response to the ever increasing cost of living. April is not that far away and a great many service providers will increase their rates and tariff as the new financial year begins. Then there is the ongoing effects, both direct and indirect, of inflation to consider. Although the UK inflation rate is dropping, currently sitting at 3.4% in December 2025, food inflation remains higher at 4.5%. Being based in the UK, salaries and billed services tend to be administered monthly. You get paid usually at the end of the months and bills can turn up at any point, depending upon when you started a service. Any payments coming from central government, such as state pension or other benefits, are paid every 4 weeks. This means that there are 13 payments in a year. I thought it pertinent to clarify this point as other countries, such as the USA, favour a fortnightly financial cycle. Hence as a household we work around a monthly budget.
I try not to let the failings of contemporary capitalism get to me but such a mindset is very hard to maintain. From time to time it does just piss you off and you know damn well that there’s nothing you can do about it. So to begin this tale, at the end of November, our Indesit washer/dryer gave up the ghost after a valiant twelve year lifespan. As a result of this household appliance’s stirling work, it was decided to buy another from the same manufacturer. Their website informed me that the model that had just broken was no longer being produced. However, it recommended two newer appliances that had comparable specifications and more importantly the same size. This washer/dryer had to fit into a fitted kitchen unit. To cut a long story short, a model was chosen, purchased, delivered within 48 hours and installed. The broken predecessor was subsequently taken away. The wonders of modern consumer culture!
I was in a pub last night, catching up with friends before Christmas, when I noticed on the wall something I haven’t seen in a pub for a very long time. A jukebox. In my experiences most of the pubs I go to take one of the following two approaches to background music. They either have a sound system and exclusively manage any music via personally curated playlists from behind the bar. Or they have no music at all. The Wetherspoons chain of pubs broadly follow the latter policy and actively use it as a marketing point. Quiet pubs for clientele that just want to talk can be popular. Hence finding an accessible jukebox was a blast from the past. During the late eighties and early nineties, I regularly visited my local pub and often used the jukebox there, which at the time, was operated by an ever changing store of CDs. The jukebox I encountered last night was digital.
Today is my 58th birthday. It would appear that I have existed for nearly six decades. Put another way, I am over half a century old. All of which has given me pause for thought with regard to the passage of time. A phrase that is often bandied about, but what exactly does it mean? As I understand it, the “passage of time” refers to our perception of the flow of time and how we experience its movement. This is something distinct and different from objective time as measured by clocks. Our subjective experience of time can vary due to multiple factors. Two common examples are how time can feel like it's flying by when we're having fun and enjoying something or dragging its feet when you’re enduring something dull. Other factors are whether we are applying ourselves to a task, concentrating and general activity. Such focus can make time pass quickly.
When Mrs P and I moved into our current home, over twenty years ago, we were both working full time. As the garden was poorly maintained and neither of us had any horticultural skills, we decided to employ a gardener. At the time it was a practical solution to the issue of garden maintenance and remains so today. Hence it is a service we continue to use, although our personal health is now the main reason we pay a gardener.
In July the UK Government introduced the Online Safety Act which requires age checks for accessing sexually explicit content online. As a result of this, Pornhub, the 19th most visited site on the internet, has reported a 77% decline in UK traffic. Furthermore, according to the UK regulatory body, OFCOM (The Office of Communications), overall visits to pornographic websites from the UK have fallen by 33%. Naturally, those who championed this legislation are claiming a moral and political victory. However, once you consider what these facts actually mean, they paint a somewhat different and potentially more worrying picture. It would be staggeringly naïve to think that UK visitors to Pornhub have ceased visiting such sites due to the age verification requirements. The more likely explanation is that UK porn consumers are now using VPNs to circumnavigate these restrictions and that this traffic to Pornhub is now recorded as coming from elsewhere.
Formal education in the UK is a structured process, starting at early years learning and continuing through to higher education at university. Some aspects of the educational system are mandatory, whereas others are optional. At present, children in the UK must start full-time education from the age of 5 and remain until the age of 16. After this age, they are no longer required to attend school per se but must remain in some other form of education or training, such as a vocational college or an apprenticeship. Many students remain at school until 18, as there are specific exams to be obtained that are required for a subsequent university placement. Here is a breakdown of the current process as it exists in the UK.
I don’t know if you have noticed that there are quite a lot of companies that have names taken from Tolkien’s Legendarium. At first glance, this seems innocuous enough. Tolkien’s writings grew in popularity over the seventies and eighties but since the release of the film trilogy at the start of the twenty-first century, his work has become more well known and been assimilated into our wider pop culture. Hence, it seems quite logical that a startup tech company, for example, would choose a name from his writings. No doubt the founders grew up reading The Lord of the Rings and are fans. That all seems plausible. However if you take a further look, it gets somewhat more complex. Here are four companies that have Tolkien based names.
Last Wednesday, I woke up with what I thought to be a crick in my neck on the left hand side. I assumed this was simply due to sleeping awkwardly and so I self medicated with some non-prescription pain relief and judicious use of a heat pad. Unfortunately, the problem has persisted and in the last 24 hours it has become much worse. I awoke this morning at about 5:00 AM and as I sat up in bed, an intense pain ran up the left side of my neck and behind my ear. It took several attempts for me to get out of bed because if I turned my head in either direction or inclined my chin, the pain would again run up the side of my neck. Sitting down, getting up and raising my arms caused similar results. While dressing, I attempted to pull a t-shirt over my head. The pain in my neck on this occasion was so severe that I yelled out loud and nearly blacked out.
I am a non-driver. If you wish to know the specifics of how this situation came about, feel free to read the post I wrote about it back in early 2018. To be succinct, I don’t drive, I’ve never learned how and have never owned a car. I don’t feel that I’ve missed out. In fact I feel quite the opposite. I think I’ve dodged a major hassle and expense in life. Mrs P, my significant other, is the designated driver of our household. She owns a car, insures it and maintains it. She also mainly pays for the petrol, whereas I pick up the tab for other things such as lunch or hotels when we travel. All I have to do is make like Iggy Pop if we go anywhere. The most I am ever called upon to do is navigate using Google maps and Android Auto. Fortunately, Mrs P enjoys driving. Always has done. Hence I look upon this situation as an extremely fortunate and equitable arrangement.
I am getting old. I shall be 58 in December. Now, as soon as you say something like that these days, some folk will get uncomfortable and say things like “age is relative” or “you’re as old as you feel”. Well I don’t measure my age in geological terms, so it’s not relative and I’m not feeling anyone especially young at the moment, so both schools or thoughts can sod off. I am getting old by the yardstick we measure human life by, namely years. I have specific, age related health issues and I just don’t feel as energised as I did a decade ago. There are minor signs, such as deciding to go to bed earlier and taking longer to get dressed after taking a shower. I’m not at death’s door but I am slowing up physically. It would also appear that my reactions are also slowing down as I tend to get massacred in any FPS I play these days. So far, my mental faculties seem to be holding up. However, that is the one thing I worry about the most. The potential loss of cognitive abilities scares the shit out of me.
Foots Cray Reuse and Recycling Centre is the fancy name of our local dump. A few decades ago, this was no more than a scrap yard. The rubbish and bric-a-brac left by the public was sorted and scavenged for resaleable scrap. Everything that was left was subsequently sent to landfill or incineration. Much has changed. Today it is the embodiment of the modern recycling ethos. The recycling centre is a well managed, carefully segregated site providing safe disposal of a wide variety of household and garden waste. Wood, metal and hardcore are recycled and there is similar provision for a multitude of electrical goods. Plastics, oils, paint, batteries can be safely disposed of. I have yet to find a home item that they do not have provision to dispose of. The Foots Cray Reuse and Recycling Centre has won awards for the service it provides and is considered one of the best facilities of its kind in the South East of the country.
One of the things I enjoy most about having my own blog is the fact I can write about the mundane and the trivial. Mainly because so much of life falls into this category. Life defining events are all fine and dandy and certainly lend themselves to philosophical musings that make fine blog posts. However, you can get just as much mileage out of those everyday things in life with less gravitas, that we all do. Such as buying new clothes, taking out the recycling and going to buy groceries. I have written about all of these in the past. However, today I wish to broach a subject that both fascinates me but also raises my blood pressure. I believe it to be a social marker and a clear indication of an individual’s personal psychology. Yes, I’m talking about packing your groceries at the supermarket and the various rituals and social etiquette associated with it.
“Managed decline” is a phrase that refers to the processes associated with the end of a specific lifecycle, with the goal of minimizing costs or other forms of loss. The concept originated in business where it referred to the management of companies and industries. More recently it is used in wider contexts. The concept gained prominence with regard to urban policy, particularly in the UK during the eighties when several major cities suffered economic and political collapse. Of late, the term has been applied to the UK, encompassing a systematic weakening of the economy, social structures, and cultural values, as well as its global political and diplomatic force. In each case, managed decline involves making strategic choices about resource allocation and accepting the consequences of those decisions. It is a complex issue with ethical and practical considerations, often sparking debate about the best way to address decline and reverse the process.
It’s been five years since the COVID-19 global pandemic. At the time it was an utterly alien and tumultuous experience. However, due to the way numerous institutions responded (but not the government), many people thought there would be a great deal of social and political change in the UK afterwards. The pandemic highlighted the impotence of the NHS, as well as those who work in jobs designated as essential. It also shone a spotlight on many of the country’s inequalities. Due to our national character, a real sense of community emerged. Something that had been absent for a very long time. Briefly, we got a glimpse of what the UK could be when we all broadly worked together. There was a sense that now was the time to change the status quo. Sadly, nothing changed. As soon as the vaccination program was launched, the UK quickly slipped back into the mire it’s been wallowing in since the end of WWII.
Prior to writing this post, I clocked a picture on a news website of the now disgraced TV presenter (and nonce) Gregg Wallace. I noticed that he doesn’t smile as such but tends to “gurn” instead. So does UK politician (and cunt) Nigel Farage. He always has his mouth open and his face contorted in some curious rictus, in most of the pictures you see of him. Mind you, I also don’t photograph especially well and any pictures of me smiling tend to look sinister or with a heavy hint of irony. The bottom line is not everyone is good at smiling. It doesn’t come naturally to all of us. This can be a problem at times or in social situations, because smiling is an integral part of our culture. On many occasions, I’ve been walking along, my face in a state of natural repose, only to be harangued by some twat shouting “cheer up, it may never happen”. A phrase I haven’t quite fathomed out, even to this day.
Booking Tickets
Last night Mrs P said apropos of nothing, “shall we go and see John Bishop”? For those who don’t know, John Bishop is an established UK comedian who is currently touring the country. So I went online and checked the details of his tour. We were quite happy to travel to see his show as it would provide an opportunity for a weekend away. Sadly, to cut a long story short we were unable to secure any tickets that suited our needs. From January to April, the tour is mainly using smaller venues such as local theatres and art centres. Later in the year during October and November, the tour moves to arenas, conference centres and stadiums. I find these very impersonal and don’t see any merit in sitting far away from the stage, watching an artist on a giant video screen. We had hoped we could get tickets at one of the smaller theatres but sadly we couldn’t find two seats together.
Last night Mrs P said apropos of nothing, “shall we go and see John Bishop”? For those who don’t know, John Bishop is an established UK comedian who is currently touring the country. So I went online and checked the details of his tour. We were quite happy to travel to see his show as it would provide an opportunity for a weekend away. Sadly, to cut a long story short we were unable to secure any tickets that suited our needs. From January to April, the tour is mainly using smaller venues such as local theatres and art centres. Later in the year during October and November, the tour moves to arenas, conference centres and stadiums. I find these very impersonal and don’t see any merit in sitting far away from the stage, watching an artist on a giant video screen. We had hoped we could get tickets at one of the smaller theatres but sadly we couldn’t find two seats together.
This anecdote illustrates two issues. The first being what do you need to do to keep up to date with tour information for bands, other musical artists and comedians? The second being the actual acquisition of tickets, which is frequently a far from equitable process. Because in the past and by that I mean the eighties and nineties, buying tickets went something like this. After spotting an advert for a forthcoming tour in the music press, I would either phone or visit the venue where the show was to be held and buy tickets from their box office. Alternatively, I would go to a third party ticket agent in Leicester Square and buy tickets there. Sometimes there would be a queue but if you were shrewd about the timing, there would be no major issues. However, this process was subsequently ruined by the internet and online booking services.
The most egregious problem associated with buying tickets nowadays is the rise of automated bots that buy en masse for touts. Another problem associated with the lottery that is the first come, first served approach, are the virtual queues that occur when tickets go on sale at designated times. I spent exactly 14 minutes in an online queue last year, in a vain attempt to buy two tickets for a popular podcast’s live recording. By the time I finally got to the front of the queue, I was greeted with a message that all tickets were sold out. How is this fair and equitable? Furthermore it is far from good PR for the artists in question. Last year’s sale of Oasis reunion tickets really caught the public's attention due to the poor way the process was handled. The question of regulating ticket sales has now even been raised in parliament.
Another issue that occurs, sometimes with smaller venues, is when there are limited tickets left. Some websites refuse to sell pairs of tickets if that sale leaves a single seat on its own. I noticed this when trying to buy two circle tickets from a local theatre recently. I received a pop up message that would not allow the purchase as it left an isolated seat that the venue would naturally find harder to sell. What I want to know is since when did the venue's business problems become mine? To add insult to injury, the ticket software subsequently encouraged me to purchase a third ticket and “bring a friend”. I was utterly flabbergasted by the hubris of this approach and was tempted to call the theatre in question personally. Upon reflection I decided why harass some minimum wage, box office clerk. It’s not as if they set the sales policy.
With regard to being notified in advance about upcoming tours, the obvious solution is to simply register for email notification from the artists respective website. It is also prudent to do the same with both small and large venues. However, I was told by a friend who works in the marketing industry that this approach isn’t quite as simple and foolproof as it would appear. Although bands and artists will notify fans in advance of tours, there exists within this process a two tier system. Those who have previously bought merchandise above a certain value are given priority and first access to ticket sales. A similar system exists with large venues such as the O2 Arena. “Valued” customers are notified in advance and again given access to priority ticket sales.
There are other issues arising that are worth considering. Third party brokers and their additional charges. Then there are the vagaries of the phrase “restricted view”. Some websites include a photo of the view from your seat. Others seem to go out of their way to be as vague as possible. Overall, it seems that ticket sales is a rather ethically questionable business. It may well serve the needs of the vendors but it doesn’t benefit consumers. Many artists try to distance themselves from this process, blaming the fact that it is run by third parties and thus not their fault. However, it would appear that this issue is getting greater scrutiny by the media and consumer groups. The industry may well be facing greater regulation this year. It certainly needs it. In the meantime I have learned from my experience and am better prepared for next time I wish to book tickets for an event.
When I was a child, I quickly learned never to say within earshot of my parents that I was bored. It was quickly met with a response along the lines of “an intelligent mind is never bored” or more worryingly “if you’ve got nothing to do, I’ll find you something” which meant a chore or Herculean task. Being a child of the seventies and due to my parents fundamentalist approach to declarations of boredom, I quickly discovered numerous ways to occupy myself. The default solution was a book or comic. I always liked reading as a child and had plenty of books to choose from. I also had numerous of comics as an alternative to a hefty tome. I would also draw and paint. My father use to work during the summer holidays as a design draftsman and as a result, we always had plenty of paper in our house. Then of course there were toys and such like. Hence I learned the art of keeping myself busy.
When I first started this series of posts back in 2023, they were originally intended to provide a useful overview into UK (mainly British) slang. US slang is ubiquitous globally due to the pervasive nature of American culture. Hence most people have a good grasp of its nuances. However, the proverbial door does not swing both ways. Hence most people will watch British TV dramas or read popular novels and can be quite bamboozled by some of the phrases that are used. That is what I was trying to address. However, over time this entire enterprise now reads like a some sort of Guy Ritchie film with Colin as the anti-hero. That notwithstanding, hopefully the list of slang phrases below will prove useful to know, if you ever visit the UK or tour around London. As ever I have given an example of their respective use. Feel free to ask questions if anything needs clarifying, or you wish to leave a comment with examples of you’re own national and regional slang.
As I write this post, the temperature in Greater London is 33°C (91.4°F). This has become a regular occurrence since the middle of May onwards. High temperatures are fine when you’re on holiday mainly because you’re off work and at your leisure. You don’t have to perform the usual daily task that life requires of you such as work, shop, cook, clean etc. Furthermore, if you’re on vacation you’ll probably be staying at a resort or hotel that is fully air conditioned and you’re dressed accordingly. However, if you’re still performing you’re daily routine such as commuting to work and spending time in an office that wasn’t built with such external temperatures in mind, then 33°C is frankly a pain in the ass. Oh and if you’re one of those people who always respond to discussions such as this with “well I live in Riyadh and it’s 40°C here”, please sod off. You live in a desert which is dumb to begin with. Plus this is not a commensurate comparison. Temperatures are rising in the UK. It’s always hot in Saudi Arabia.
If you visit the websites for such UK tabloid newspapers as the Daily Express or the Daily Mail you will no doubt encounter prominent stories about Megan Markle, Nigel Farage and “immigrants”. If these two august institutions are short of column inches, they’ll run a piece about how some former celebrity has had the unmitigated gall and temerity to get old. I mean WTF? How dare they do what human beings are genetically disposed to do. It’s outrageous. Similarly, head over to the Unherd website and you’ll find foam flecked tirades regarding spurious points of contention over dubious subjects. Often the topic being harangued is incredibly niche and I’ve never heard of it before or even considered it being a thing. These sort of talking points are not about informing, debating and most certainly aren’t about thinking. They exist to provoke reactions.
Before we start, let me explain to those readers outside of the UK, the significance of a Dairy Milk Freddo chocolate bar and its relevance to this post. The “Freddo” is an 18g (0.63 oz) chocolate bar, in the shape of an anthropomorphic frog. When it was re-launched by Cadbury in 1990 (it had previously been manufactured by an Australian confectionery company in the seventies), it was priced at 10p (£0.10). It remained at that price until 2005 when a 1p to 2p increase began to occur each year. By 2016 Freddos were retailing at 25p. However, the following year the price “lept” to 30p with an increase that was double its usual yearly rise. This led to public outrage across social media. Since then the price of a Freddo has waxed and waned. Tesco supermarket reduced the price back to 10p as part of their centenary celebrations. The post COVID price in 2022 hit 49p. At present, the average price of a Freddo in the UK is somewhere around 35p.
Over the last 10 years, I’ve written several blog posts about my personal working experiences and my career, such as it was. I touched upon working specifically in IT and how that industry changed over time, both technically and in the way that other people perceived it. I have also given my thoughts on the social dynamics of the modern work environment and the way we interact with our colleagues and employers. That is another area that has changed dramatically. Naturally my retirement from full time work has been written about, as it is such a radical change in one’s life. Especially if you’re the sort of person who is clearly defined by their job, which I personally was not. This time, I want to share a few thoughts I have about what I miss about “going to work” and “having a job”. I’m not sure if “miss” is the right word. Perhaps it is more a question of things being absent. Either way, there are some aspects of being employed that I use to enjoy or at least found beneficial that I now no longer experience.
UK Prime Minister, Sir Keir Starmer has resigned and intends to leave office before the parliamentary summer recess. By then Andy Burnham will more than likely be voted leader of the Labour Party and by default will become the new Prime Minister. Due to the current size of the incumbent Government’s majority, there is no pressing reason for a General Election that the UK’s right wing tabloid press is currently calling for. Whether this provides the Government with the reset they’re hoping for when Parliament reconvenes in autumn remains to be seen. With seven Prime Ministers coming and going in a decade, there are some serious questions to be asked about the current state of UK politics. However, the mechanics of contemporary politics, the decline of clearly defined ideologies and the people that seek elected office to be our leaders are only half of the problem. The other major impediment to the UK’s democracy functioning properly is the electorate.
The UK Government has formerly announced its intention to ban under-16s from using social media. This is due to increasing public pressure that “something must be done” about the perceived iniquities of many online platforms. However, as with most complex social problems of this nature, no one has any clear or practical ideas as to what that “something” is. It remains a nebulous, non-specific panacea and clearly someone else’s job to identify and implement. As ever, why choose a nuanced and multifaceted solution to a complex problem, when it is far easier and politically expedient to just “ban” something. The former requires effort and a degree of thinking. If such an approach fails it also means that those who came up with it now carry the can. The latter dumps the problem in the lap of various third parties, who can then be conveniently blamed when the ill conceived policy fails.
Every Thursday, Mrs P volunteers at a food bank that is run from a local church; Avery Hill Christian Fellowship. Today there was a shortage of staff so I agreed to help out. It proved to be an equitable arrangement as she collated the various orders and I packed the bags and took them to the respective clients. The food bank itself is organised and administered by the Trussell Trust, a UK based NGO and charity providing emergency food and support to people locked in poverty. It is open for 2 to 3 hours a week depending upon demand. During today’s session we served just six people. Some weeks its can be triple that amount. Upon closure, a member of staff from the Trussel Trust did a stock take and collated a list of what was needed. This is provided by various local church communities via parishioners donations, as well as local supermarkets who have an arrangement with the trust to provide surplus stock or good approaching the end of their sales window.
There are approximately 4000 parks and green spaces in Greater London. Bexley Borough alone has over 100. Public parks and green spaces are vital to modern cities, providing essential health, environmental and social benefits. They boost physical and mental wellbeing by reducing stress and providing a place for exercise. Furthermore they enhance urban sustainability, mitigate heat, and provide a sustainable environment for a wildlife. Parks are often a venue for social activities and events and as such are an important part of the local community. Going to the park has always been a part of my life. I live next to Old Farm Park in Sidcup and have made use of this recreational space throughout my life. I used visit with my parents in the seventies, when I was a child. Thirty years later my son, father in-law and I would fly kites there. Now I take my grandchildren to Old Farm Park as it now has a playground.
Being a 58 year old man, I welcome any undertaking which can potentially improve my health. One such thing is proactive screening and testing. The UK National Health Service has started doing a lot more of this in recent years, mainly because diagnosing a problem and treating it early is far more efficient and cost effective than retroactive action. Hence this policy and my age is why I was recently sent a NHS Bowel Cancer Test Kit via the post. This screening service takes place every two years for people aged 50 to 74 in the UK. The kit is very quick and simple to use. A sample of your stool is sent via a prepaid return envelope for testing and the entire process is free of charge. Upon receipt, the laboratory test determines whether there is any blood present in your stool, which is a potential indicator of bowel cancer. If detected, an early diagnosis greatly improves any subsequent treatment outcomes.
I like learning things. I always have. During my middle school years I thought I was a mediocre student and often I wouldn’t apply myself. According to an old school report this was because I was “too busy indulging in Tomfoolery”. Then I had the positive experience of meeting an exceptional teacher. Their lessons were the highlight of the week as they had an ability to make the subject matter, Classical History, utterly compelling and relevant. The teacher in question also treated us like adults and the class benefitted from only having five pupils. This really brought home to me that a lot of disinterest and underachievement in education is linked to the paucity of some teachers. One bad teacher can undermine the good work that all the others can do. Perhaps it has improved nowadays?
I’ve had an interest in the paranormal since I was a child. My mother always got books out of the library about ghosts and UFO phenomenon, so in some respects I was influenced by her reading habits. As a child such tales were by default interesting and any potentially scary element naturally made them more enjoyable. However, my father being an academic had taught me to question everything, so I felt fairly evenly equipped when exploring these subjects. Further to this point, over the years I have learned that humans have a very unique perspective on the world. We are hard wired to see patterns, regardless of whether they’re there or not. Our senses can also be fooled and often are. Perhaps the most important aspect of our nature that impacts upon any analysis we make into the paranormal is our penchant for creating stories. Hence unusual experiences can be subconsciously misremembered and “retconned” to form more precise narratives.
I have lived in Sidcup, in South East London, for most of my life. The first two schools that I went to were local and within 15 minutes walking distance. My Doctor’s Surgery and Dentist are only a few streets away, as is the barbershop that I’ve frequented since 1970. I now have my haircut by the son of the original barber. My point being that Sidcup has everything that residents immediately need. There’s a local hospital, good public transport networks and a broad range of shopping and restaurant facilities. It also has several parks with lakes, sport facilities and children’s play areas. It is a microcosm of the concept of suburbia with its residents commuting into Central London or out into Kent for work. People move here to raise families and end up staying. My parents lived here for 62 years.
Our household is currently trying to reduce our monthly overheads in response to the ever increasing cost of living. April is not that far away and a great many service providers will increase their rates and tariff as the new financial year begins. Then there is the ongoing effects, both direct and indirect, of inflation to consider. Although the UK inflation rate is dropping, currently sitting at 3.4% in December 2025, food inflation remains higher at 4.5%. Being based in the UK, salaries and billed services tend to be administered monthly. You get paid usually at the end of the months and bills can turn up at any point, depending upon when you started a service. Any payments coming from central government, such as state pension or other benefits, are paid every 4 weeks. This means that there are 13 payments in a year. I thought it pertinent to clarify this point as other countries, such as the USA, favour a fortnightly financial cycle. Hence as a household we work around a monthly budget.
I try not to let the failings of contemporary capitalism get to me but such a mindset is very hard to maintain. From time to time it does just piss you off and you know damn well that there’s nothing you can do about it. So to begin this tale, at the end of November, our Indesit washer/dryer gave up the ghost after a valiant twelve year lifespan. As a result of this household appliance’s stirling work, it was decided to buy another from the same manufacturer. Their website informed me that the model that had just broken was no longer being produced. However, it recommended two newer appliances that had comparable specifications and more importantly the same size. This washer/dryer had to fit into a fitted kitchen unit. To cut a long story short, a model was chosen, purchased, delivered within 48 hours and installed. The broken predecessor was subsequently taken away. The wonders of modern consumer culture!
I was in a pub last night, catching up with friends before Christmas, when I noticed on the wall something I haven’t seen in a pub for a very long time. A jukebox. In my experiences most of the pubs I go to take one of the following two approaches to background music. They either have a sound system and exclusively manage any music via personally curated playlists from behind the bar. Or they have no music at all. The Wetherspoons chain of pubs broadly follow the latter policy and actively use it as a marketing point. Quiet pubs for clientele that just want to talk can be popular. Hence finding an accessible jukebox was a blast from the past. During the late eighties and early nineties, I regularly visited my local pub and often used the jukebox there, which at the time, was operated by an ever changing store of CDs. The jukebox I encountered last night was digital.
Today is my 58th birthday. It would appear that I have existed for nearly six decades. Put another way, I am over half a century old. All of which has given me pause for thought with regard to the passage of time. A phrase that is often bandied about, but what exactly does it mean? As I understand it, the “passage of time” refers to our perception of the flow of time and how we experience its movement. This is something distinct and different from objective time as measured by clocks. Our subjective experience of time can vary due to multiple factors. Two common examples are how time can feel like it's flying by when we're having fun and enjoying something or dragging its feet when you’re enduring something dull. Other factors are whether we are applying ourselves to a task, concentrating and general activity. Such focus can make time pass quickly.
When Mrs P and I moved into our current home, over twenty years ago, we were both working full time. As the garden was poorly maintained and neither of us had any horticultural skills, we decided to employ a gardener. At the time it was a practical solution to the issue of garden maintenance and remains so today. Hence it is a service we continue to use, although our personal health is now the main reason we pay a gardener.
In July the UK Government introduced the Online Safety Act which requires age checks for accessing sexually explicit content online. As a result of this, Pornhub, the 19th most visited site on the internet, has reported a 77% decline in UK traffic. Furthermore, according to the UK regulatory body, OFCOM (The Office of Communications), overall visits to pornographic websites from the UK have fallen by 33%. Naturally, those who championed this legislation are claiming a moral and political victory. However, once you consider what these facts actually mean, they paint a somewhat different and potentially more worrying picture. It would be staggeringly naïve to think that UK visitors to Pornhub have ceased visiting such sites due to the age verification requirements. The more likely explanation is that UK porn consumers are now using VPNs to circumnavigate these restrictions and that this traffic to Pornhub is now recorded as coming from elsewhere.
Formal education in the UK is a structured process, starting at early years learning and continuing through to higher education at university. Some aspects of the educational system are mandatory, whereas others are optional. At present, children in the UK must start full-time education from the age of 5 and remain until the age of 16. After this age, they are no longer required to attend school per se but must remain in some other form of education or training, such as a vocational college or an apprenticeship. Many students remain at school until 18, as there are specific exams to be obtained that are required for a subsequent university placement. Here is a breakdown of the current process as it exists in the UK.
I don’t know if you have noticed that there are quite a lot of companies that have names taken from Tolkien’s Legendarium. At first glance, this seems innocuous enough. Tolkien’s writings grew in popularity over the seventies and eighties but since the release of the film trilogy at the start of the twenty-first century, his work has become more well known and been assimilated into our wider pop culture. Hence, it seems quite logical that a startup tech company, for example, would choose a name from his writings. No doubt the founders grew up reading The Lord of the Rings and are fans. That all seems plausible. However if you take a further look, it gets somewhat more complex. Here are four companies that have Tolkien based names.
Last Wednesday, I woke up with what I thought to be a crick in my neck on the left hand side. I assumed this was simply due to sleeping awkwardly and so I self medicated with some non-prescription pain relief and judicious use of a heat pad. Unfortunately, the problem has persisted and in the last 24 hours it has become much worse. I awoke this morning at about 5:00 AM and as I sat up in bed, an intense pain ran up the left side of my neck and behind my ear. It took several attempts for me to get out of bed because if I turned my head in either direction or inclined my chin, the pain would again run up the side of my neck. Sitting down, getting up and raising my arms caused similar results. While dressing, I attempted to pull a t-shirt over my head. The pain in my neck on this occasion was so severe that I yelled out loud and nearly blacked out.
I am a non-driver. If you wish to know the specifics of how this situation came about, feel free to read the post I wrote about it back in early 2018. To be succinct, I don’t drive, I’ve never learned how and have never owned a car. I don’t feel that I’ve missed out. In fact I feel quite the opposite. I think I’ve dodged a major hassle and expense in life. Mrs P, my significant other, is the designated driver of our household. She owns a car, insures it and maintains it. She also mainly pays for the petrol, whereas I pick up the tab for other things such as lunch or hotels when we travel. All I have to do is make like Iggy Pop if we go anywhere. The most I am ever called upon to do is navigate using Google maps and Android Auto. Fortunately, Mrs P enjoys driving. Always has done. Hence I look upon this situation as an extremely fortunate and equitable arrangement.
I am getting old. I shall be 58 in December. Now, as soon as you say something like that these days, some folk will get uncomfortable and say things like “age is relative” or “you’re as old as you feel”. Well I don’t measure my age in geological terms, so it’s not relative and I’m not feeling anyone especially young at the moment, so both schools or thoughts can sod off. I am getting old by the yardstick we measure human life by, namely years. I have specific, age related health issues and I just don’t feel as energised as I did a decade ago. There are minor signs, such as deciding to go to bed earlier and taking longer to get dressed after taking a shower. I’m not at death’s door but I am slowing up physically. It would also appear that my reactions are also slowing down as I tend to get massacred in any FPS I play these days. So far, my mental faculties seem to be holding up. However, that is the one thing I worry about the most. The potential loss of cognitive abilities scares the shit out of me.
Foots Cray Reuse and Recycling Centre is the fancy name of our local dump. A few decades ago, this was no more than a scrap yard. The rubbish and bric-a-brac left by the public was sorted and scavenged for resaleable scrap. Everything that was left was subsequently sent to landfill or incineration. Much has changed. Today it is the embodiment of the modern recycling ethos. The recycling centre is a well managed, carefully segregated site providing safe disposal of a wide variety of household and garden waste. Wood, metal and hardcore are recycled and there is similar provision for a multitude of electrical goods. Plastics, oils, paint, batteries can be safely disposed of. I have yet to find a home item that they do not have provision to dispose of. The Foots Cray Reuse and Recycling Centre has won awards for the service it provides and is considered one of the best facilities of its kind in the South East of the country.
One of the things I enjoy most about having my own blog is the fact I can write about the mundane and the trivial. Mainly because so much of life falls into this category. Life defining events are all fine and dandy and certainly lend themselves to philosophical musings that make fine blog posts. However, you can get just as much mileage out of those everyday things in life with less gravitas, that we all do. Such as buying new clothes, taking out the recycling and going to buy groceries. I have written about all of these in the past. However, today I wish to broach a subject that both fascinates me but also raises my blood pressure. I believe it to be a social marker and a clear indication of an individual’s personal psychology. Yes, I’m talking about packing your groceries at the supermarket and the various rituals and social etiquette associated with it.
“Managed decline” is a phrase that refers to the processes associated with the end of a specific lifecycle, with the goal of minimizing costs or other forms of loss. The concept originated in business where it referred to the management of companies and industries. More recently it is used in wider contexts. The concept gained prominence with regard to urban policy, particularly in the UK during the eighties when several major cities suffered economic and political collapse. Of late, the term has been applied to the UK, encompassing a systematic weakening of the economy, social structures, and cultural values, as well as its global political and diplomatic force. In each case, managed decline involves making strategic choices about resource allocation and accepting the consequences of those decisions. It is a complex issue with ethical and practical considerations, often sparking debate about the best way to address decline and reverse the process.
It’s been five years since the COVID-19 global pandemic. At the time it was an utterly alien and tumultuous experience. However, due to the way numerous institutions responded (but not the government), many people thought there would be a great deal of social and political change in the UK afterwards. The pandemic highlighted the impotence of the NHS, as well as those who work in jobs designated as essential. It also shone a spotlight on many of the country’s inequalities. Due to our national character, a real sense of community emerged. Something that had been absent for a very long time. Briefly, we got a glimpse of what the UK could be when we all broadly worked together. There was a sense that now was the time to change the status quo. Sadly, nothing changed. As soon as the vaccination program was launched, the UK quickly slipped back into the mire it’s been wallowing in since the end of WWII.
Prior to writing this post, I clocked a picture on a news website of the now disgraced TV presenter (and nonce) Gregg Wallace. I noticed that he doesn’t smile as such but tends to “gurn” instead. So does UK politician (and cunt) Nigel Farage. He always has his mouth open and his face contorted in some curious rictus, in most of the pictures you see of him. Mind you, I also don’t photograph especially well and any pictures of me smiling tend to look sinister or with a heavy hint of irony. The bottom line is not everyone is good at smiling. It doesn’t come naturally to all of us. This can be a problem at times or in social situations, because smiling is an integral part of our culture. On many occasions, I’ve been walking along, my face in a state of natural repose, only to be harangued by some twat shouting “cheer up, it may never happen”. A phrase I haven’t quite fathomed out, even to this day.
Being Organised
I recently “tooted” on Mastodon “sometimes it’s a real drag to be the person who always has their shit together”. Although meant humorously, there was an element of truth to the remark. Allow me to explain. I always have a shopping bag in my coat pocket. Our household always has a supply of those things that you often run out of or need occasionally. Such as AA batteries, stamps and envelopes. If Mrs P and I are going out for the day, we’ll check the weather and traffic before we set off. There’s always a spare toner and drum unit for the printer, as well as paper. We’ll book a table at our favourite restaurant in advance of going to the West End show. Why do we do these things? Because we’re organised. I’m not trying to be smug about it, that’s just our default position and how we were raised. Perhaps it’s a generational thing?
I recently “tooted” on Mastodon “sometimes it’s a real drag to be the person who always has their shit together”. Although meant humorously, there was an element of truth to the remark. Allow me to explain. I always have a shopping bag in my coat pocket. Our household always has a supply of those things that you often run out of or need occasionally. Such as AA batteries, stamps and envelopes. If Mrs P and I are going out for the day, we’ll check the weather and traffic before we set off. There’s always a spare toner and drum unit for the printer, as well as paper. We’ll book a table at our favourite restaurant in advance of going to the West End show. Why do we do these things? Because we’re organised. I’m not trying to be smug about it, that’s just our default position and how we were raised. Perhaps it’s a generational thing?
Do organised people attract each other? I’m not sure if that is always the case. However, it is with Mrs P and myself. We are both organised when it comes to admin and finances. We tend not to “put off to tomorrow what can be done today” and we both have a capacity to think ahead and anticipate things that can come up and thus plan for them. It’s seldom rocket science or anything tricky. If we’re collecting the grandchildren from school and looking after them for a few hours, it’s pretty obvious to have food in the freezer and a cupboard full of snacks. Mrs P is always good at remembering birthdays and buying suitable gifts. It isn’t some sort of quasi super power. She just listens to people and makes a note in her diary. I have learned from this and tend to use the calendar and notes features on my phone. Being organised is a lot easier these days with the tools we have.
However, despite the obvious benefits of being prepared, it does come with its own set of problems. Once you are identified by others as “having your shit together” you find that an ad hoc network grows around you. It ranges from those who become at a low level, semi dependent upon your organisational skills, to members of your family that just end up in some pain in ass, symbiotic relationship. This manifests itself in a spectrum of enquiries and requests. At one end you have low level stuff like “can you scan this for me and turn it into a PDF”? At the other extreme there’s “I’ve been accused of a heinous crime. Will you bank roll my legal defence”? This can all become a little frustrating. Don’t get me wrong, I believe that it is important that we all help each other as we journey towards the grave but it can get a little one sided at times.
I used to work with someone who would always ask me the same question every three months or so. The answer could easily be found in the administrative code manual. After a while I said to the person in question “why do you keep asking me this. You should have learned this by now”. They replied “I don’t need to learn it, as I have you”. They meant it sincerely and as a compliment but it really left me aghast because to me it was an appalling personal philosophy. To a degree, I feel this way at times with those who keep asking me “can I borrow your lawn mower”. It would be nice if those who seem dependent, could occasionally manage their own needs. Mrs P thinks I’m being a little harsh and so I usually end up relenting. Hence “sometimes it’s a real drag to be the person who always has their shit together”.
When I was a child, I quickly learned never to say within earshot of my parents that I was bored. It was quickly met with a response along the lines of “an intelligent mind is never bored” or more worryingly “if you’ve got nothing to do, I’ll find you something” which meant a chore or Herculean task. Being a child of the seventies and due to my parents fundamentalist approach to declarations of boredom, I quickly discovered numerous ways to occupy myself. The default solution was a book or comic. I always liked reading as a child and had plenty of books to choose from. I also had numerous of comics as an alternative to a hefty tome. I would also draw and paint. My father use to work during the summer holidays as a design draftsman and as a result, we always had plenty of paper in our house. Then of course there were toys and such like. Hence I learned the art of keeping myself busy.
When I first started this series of posts back in 2023, they were originally intended to provide a useful overview into UK (mainly British) slang. US slang is ubiquitous globally due to the pervasive nature of American culture. Hence most people have a good grasp of its nuances. However, the proverbial door does not swing both ways. Hence most people will watch British TV dramas or read popular novels and can be quite bamboozled by some of the phrases that are used. That is what I was trying to address. However, over time this entire enterprise now reads like a some sort of Guy Ritchie film with Colin as the anti-hero. That notwithstanding, hopefully the list of slang phrases below will prove useful to know, if you ever visit the UK or tour around London. As ever I have given an example of their respective use. Feel free to ask questions if anything needs clarifying, or you wish to leave a comment with examples of you’re own national and regional slang.
As I write this post, the temperature in Greater London is 33°C (91.4°F). This has become a regular occurrence since the middle of May onwards. High temperatures are fine when you’re on holiday mainly because you’re off work and at your leisure. You don’t have to perform the usual daily task that life requires of you such as work, shop, cook, clean etc. Furthermore, if you’re on vacation you’ll probably be staying at a resort or hotel that is fully air conditioned and you’re dressed accordingly. However, if you’re still performing you’re daily routine such as commuting to work and spending time in an office that wasn’t built with such external temperatures in mind, then 33°C is frankly a pain in the ass. Oh and if you’re one of those people who always respond to discussions such as this with “well I live in Riyadh and it’s 40°C here”, please sod off. You live in a desert which is dumb to begin with. Plus this is not a commensurate comparison. Temperatures are rising in the UK. It’s always hot in Saudi Arabia.
If you visit the websites for such UK tabloid newspapers as the Daily Express or the Daily Mail you will no doubt encounter prominent stories about Megan Markle, Nigel Farage and “immigrants”. If these two august institutions are short of column inches, they’ll run a piece about how some former celebrity has had the unmitigated gall and temerity to get old. I mean WTF? How dare they do what human beings are genetically disposed to do. It’s outrageous. Similarly, head over to the Unherd website and you’ll find foam flecked tirades regarding spurious points of contention over dubious subjects. Often the topic being harangued is incredibly niche and I’ve never heard of it before or even considered it being a thing. These sort of talking points are not about informing, debating and most certainly aren’t about thinking. They exist to provoke reactions.
Before we start, let me explain to those readers outside of the UK, the significance of a Dairy Milk Freddo chocolate bar and its relevance to this post. The “Freddo” is an 18g (0.63 oz) chocolate bar, in the shape of an anthropomorphic frog. When it was re-launched by Cadbury in 1990 (it had previously been manufactured by an Australian confectionery company in the seventies), it was priced at 10p (£0.10). It remained at that price until 2005 when a 1p to 2p increase began to occur each year. By 2016 Freddos were retailing at 25p. However, the following year the price “lept” to 30p with an increase that was double its usual yearly rise. This led to public outrage across social media. Since then the price of a Freddo has waxed and waned. Tesco supermarket reduced the price back to 10p as part of their centenary celebrations. The post COVID price in 2022 hit 49p. At present, the average price of a Freddo in the UK is somewhere around 35p.
Over the last 10 years, I’ve written several blog posts about my personal working experiences and my career, such as it was. I touched upon working specifically in IT and how that industry changed over time, both technically and in the way that other people perceived it. I have also given my thoughts on the social dynamics of the modern work environment and the way we interact with our colleagues and employers. That is another area that has changed dramatically. Naturally my retirement from full time work has been written about, as it is such a radical change in one’s life. Especially if you’re the sort of person who is clearly defined by their job, which I personally was not. This time, I want to share a few thoughts I have about what I miss about “going to work” and “having a job”. I’m not sure if “miss” is the right word. Perhaps it is more a question of things being absent. Either way, there are some aspects of being employed that I use to enjoy or at least found beneficial that I now no longer experience.
UK Prime Minister, Sir Keir Starmer has resigned and intends to leave office before the parliamentary summer recess. By then Andy Burnham will more than likely be voted leader of the Labour Party and by default will become the new Prime Minister. Due to the current size of the incumbent Government’s majority, there is no pressing reason for a General Election that the UK’s right wing tabloid press is currently calling for. Whether this provides the Government with the reset they’re hoping for when Parliament reconvenes in autumn remains to be seen. With seven Prime Ministers coming and going in a decade, there are some serious questions to be asked about the current state of UK politics. However, the mechanics of contemporary politics, the decline of clearly defined ideologies and the people that seek elected office to be our leaders are only half of the problem. The other major impediment to the UK’s democracy functioning properly is the electorate.
The UK Government has formerly announced its intention to ban under-16s from using social media. This is due to increasing public pressure that “something must be done” about the perceived iniquities of many online platforms. However, as with most complex social problems of this nature, no one has any clear or practical ideas as to what that “something” is. It remains a nebulous, non-specific panacea and clearly someone else’s job to identify and implement. As ever, why choose a nuanced and multifaceted solution to a complex problem, when it is far easier and politically expedient to just “ban” something. The former requires effort and a degree of thinking. If such an approach fails it also means that those who came up with it now carry the can. The latter dumps the problem in the lap of various third parties, who can then be conveniently blamed when the ill conceived policy fails.
Every Thursday, Mrs P volunteers at a food bank that is run from a local church; Avery Hill Christian Fellowship. Today there was a shortage of staff so I agreed to help out. It proved to be an equitable arrangement as she collated the various orders and I packed the bags and took them to the respective clients. The food bank itself is organised and administered by the Trussell Trust, a UK based NGO and charity providing emergency food and support to people locked in poverty. It is open for 2 to 3 hours a week depending upon demand. During today’s session we served just six people. Some weeks its can be triple that amount. Upon closure, a member of staff from the Trussel Trust did a stock take and collated a list of what was needed. This is provided by various local church communities via parishioners donations, as well as local supermarkets who have an arrangement with the trust to provide surplus stock or good approaching the end of their sales window.
There are approximately 4000 parks and green spaces in Greater London. Bexley Borough alone has over 100. Public parks and green spaces are vital to modern cities, providing essential health, environmental and social benefits. They boost physical and mental wellbeing by reducing stress and providing a place for exercise. Furthermore they enhance urban sustainability, mitigate heat, and provide a sustainable environment for a wildlife. Parks are often a venue for social activities and events and as such are an important part of the local community. Going to the park has always been a part of my life. I live next to Old Farm Park in Sidcup and have made use of this recreational space throughout my life. I used visit with my parents in the seventies, when I was a child. Thirty years later my son, father in-law and I would fly kites there. Now I take my grandchildren to Old Farm Park as it now has a playground.
Being a 58 year old man, I welcome any undertaking which can potentially improve my health. One such thing is proactive screening and testing. The UK National Health Service has started doing a lot more of this in recent years, mainly because diagnosing a problem and treating it early is far more efficient and cost effective than retroactive action. Hence this policy and my age is why I was recently sent a NHS Bowel Cancer Test Kit via the post. This screening service takes place every two years for people aged 50 to 74 in the UK. The kit is very quick and simple to use. A sample of your stool is sent via a prepaid return envelope for testing and the entire process is free of charge. Upon receipt, the laboratory test determines whether there is any blood present in your stool, which is a potential indicator of bowel cancer. If detected, an early diagnosis greatly improves any subsequent treatment outcomes.
I like learning things. I always have. During my middle school years I thought I was a mediocre student and often I wouldn’t apply myself. According to an old school report this was because I was “too busy indulging in Tomfoolery”. Then I had the positive experience of meeting an exceptional teacher. Their lessons were the highlight of the week as they had an ability to make the subject matter, Classical History, utterly compelling and relevant. The teacher in question also treated us like adults and the class benefitted from only having five pupils. This really brought home to me that a lot of disinterest and underachievement in education is linked to the paucity of some teachers. One bad teacher can undermine the good work that all the others can do. Perhaps it has improved nowadays?
I’ve had an interest in the paranormal since I was a child. My mother always got books out of the library about ghosts and UFO phenomenon, so in some respects I was influenced by her reading habits. As a child such tales were by default interesting and any potentially scary element naturally made them more enjoyable. However, my father being an academic had taught me to question everything, so I felt fairly evenly equipped when exploring these subjects. Further to this point, over the years I have learned that humans have a very unique perspective on the world. We are hard wired to see patterns, regardless of whether they’re there or not. Our senses can also be fooled and often are. Perhaps the most important aspect of our nature that impacts upon any analysis we make into the paranormal is our penchant for creating stories. Hence unusual experiences can be subconsciously misremembered and “retconned” to form more precise narratives.
I have lived in Sidcup, in South East London, for most of my life. The first two schools that I went to were local and within 15 minutes walking distance. My Doctor’s Surgery and Dentist are only a few streets away, as is the barbershop that I’ve frequented since 1970. I now have my haircut by the son of the original barber. My point being that Sidcup has everything that residents immediately need. There’s a local hospital, good public transport networks and a broad range of shopping and restaurant facilities. It also has several parks with lakes, sport facilities and children’s play areas. It is a microcosm of the concept of suburbia with its residents commuting into Central London or out into Kent for work. People move here to raise families and end up staying. My parents lived here for 62 years.
Our household is currently trying to reduce our monthly overheads in response to the ever increasing cost of living. April is not that far away and a great many service providers will increase their rates and tariff as the new financial year begins. Then there is the ongoing effects, both direct and indirect, of inflation to consider. Although the UK inflation rate is dropping, currently sitting at 3.4% in December 2025, food inflation remains higher at 4.5%. Being based in the UK, salaries and billed services tend to be administered monthly. You get paid usually at the end of the months and bills can turn up at any point, depending upon when you started a service. Any payments coming from central government, such as state pension or other benefits, are paid every 4 weeks. This means that there are 13 payments in a year. I thought it pertinent to clarify this point as other countries, such as the USA, favour a fortnightly financial cycle. Hence as a household we work around a monthly budget.
I try not to let the failings of contemporary capitalism get to me but such a mindset is very hard to maintain. From time to time it does just piss you off and you know damn well that there’s nothing you can do about it. So to begin this tale, at the end of November, our Indesit washer/dryer gave up the ghost after a valiant twelve year lifespan. As a result of this household appliance’s stirling work, it was decided to buy another from the same manufacturer. Their website informed me that the model that had just broken was no longer being produced. However, it recommended two newer appliances that had comparable specifications and more importantly the same size. This washer/dryer had to fit into a fitted kitchen unit. To cut a long story short, a model was chosen, purchased, delivered within 48 hours and installed. The broken predecessor was subsequently taken away. The wonders of modern consumer culture!
I was in a pub last night, catching up with friends before Christmas, when I noticed on the wall something I haven’t seen in a pub for a very long time. A jukebox. In my experiences most of the pubs I go to take one of the following two approaches to background music. They either have a sound system and exclusively manage any music via personally curated playlists from behind the bar. Or they have no music at all. The Wetherspoons chain of pubs broadly follow the latter policy and actively use it as a marketing point. Quiet pubs for clientele that just want to talk can be popular. Hence finding an accessible jukebox was a blast from the past. During the late eighties and early nineties, I regularly visited my local pub and often used the jukebox there, which at the time, was operated by an ever changing store of CDs. The jukebox I encountered last night was digital.
Today is my 58th birthday. It would appear that I have existed for nearly six decades. Put another way, I am over half a century old. All of which has given me pause for thought with regard to the passage of time. A phrase that is often bandied about, but what exactly does it mean? As I understand it, the “passage of time” refers to our perception of the flow of time and how we experience its movement. This is something distinct and different from objective time as measured by clocks. Our subjective experience of time can vary due to multiple factors. Two common examples are how time can feel like it's flying by when we're having fun and enjoying something or dragging its feet when you’re enduring something dull. Other factors are whether we are applying ourselves to a task, concentrating and general activity. Such focus can make time pass quickly.
When Mrs P and I moved into our current home, over twenty years ago, we were both working full time. As the garden was poorly maintained and neither of us had any horticultural skills, we decided to employ a gardener. At the time it was a practical solution to the issue of garden maintenance and remains so today. Hence it is a service we continue to use, although our personal health is now the main reason we pay a gardener.
In July the UK Government introduced the Online Safety Act which requires age checks for accessing sexually explicit content online. As a result of this, Pornhub, the 19th most visited site on the internet, has reported a 77% decline in UK traffic. Furthermore, according to the UK regulatory body, OFCOM (The Office of Communications), overall visits to pornographic websites from the UK have fallen by 33%. Naturally, those who championed this legislation are claiming a moral and political victory. However, once you consider what these facts actually mean, they paint a somewhat different and potentially more worrying picture. It would be staggeringly naïve to think that UK visitors to Pornhub have ceased visiting such sites due to the age verification requirements. The more likely explanation is that UK porn consumers are now using VPNs to circumnavigate these restrictions and that this traffic to Pornhub is now recorded as coming from elsewhere.
Formal education in the UK is a structured process, starting at early years learning and continuing through to higher education at university. Some aspects of the educational system are mandatory, whereas others are optional. At present, children in the UK must start full-time education from the age of 5 and remain until the age of 16. After this age, they are no longer required to attend school per se but must remain in some other form of education or training, such as a vocational college or an apprenticeship. Many students remain at school until 18, as there are specific exams to be obtained that are required for a subsequent university placement. Here is a breakdown of the current process as it exists in the UK.
I don’t know if you have noticed that there are quite a lot of companies that have names taken from Tolkien’s Legendarium. At first glance, this seems innocuous enough. Tolkien’s writings grew in popularity over the seventies and eighties but since the release of the film trilogy at the start of the twenty-first century, his work has become more well known and been assimilated into our wider pop culture. Hence, it seems quite logical that a startup tech company, for example, would choose a name from his writings. No doubt the founders grew up reading The Lord of the Rings and are fans. That all seems plausible. However if you take a further look, it gets somewhat more complex. Here are four companies that have Tolkien based names.
Last Wednesday, I woke up with what I thought to be a crick in my neck on the left hand side. I assumed this was simply due to sleeping awkwardly and so I self medicated with some non-prescription pain relief and judicious use of a heat pad. Unfortunately, the problem has persisted and in the last 24 hours it has become much worse. I awoke this morning at about 5:00 AM and as I sat up in bed, an intense pain ran up the left side of my neck and behind my ear. It took several attempts for me to get out of bed because if I turned my head in either direction or inclined my chin, the pain would again run up the side of my neck. Sitting down, getting up and raising my arms caused similar results. While dressing, I attempted to pull a t-shirt over my head. The pain in my neck on this occasion was so severe that I yelled out loud and nearly blacked out.
I am a non-driver. If you wish to know the specifics of how this situation came about, feel free to read the post I wrote about it back in early 2018. To be succinct, I don’t drive, I’ve never learned how and have never owned a car. I don’t feel that I’ve missed out. In fact I feel quite the opposite. I think I’ve dodged a major hassle and expense in life. Mrs P, my significant other, is the designated driver of our household. She owns a car, insures it and maintains it. She also mainly pays for the petrol, whereas I pick up the tab for other things such as lunch or hotels when we travel. All I have to do is make like Iggy Pop if we go anywhere. The most I am ever called upon to do is navigate using Google maps and Android Auto. Fortunately, Mrs P enjoys driving. Always has done. Hence I look upon this situation as an extremely fortunate and equitable arrangement.
I am getting old. I shall be 58 in December. Now, as soon as you say something like that these days, some folk will get uncomfortable and say things like “age is relative” or “you’re as old as you feel”. Well I don’t measure my age in geological terms, so it’s not relative and I’m not feeling anyone especially young at the moment, so both schools or thoughts can sod off. I am getting old by the yardstick we measure human life by, namely years. I have specific, age related health issues and I just don’t feel as energised as I did a decade ago. There are minor signs, such as deciding to go to bed earlier and taking longer to get dressed after taking a shower. I’m not at death’s door but I am slowing up physically. It would also appear that my reactions are also slowing down as I tend to get massacred in any FPS I play these days. So far, my mental faculties seem to be holding up. However, that is the one thing I worry about the most. The potential loss of cognitive abilities scares the shit out of me.
Foots Cray Reuse and Recycling Centre is the fancy name of our local dump. A few decades ago, this was no more than a scrap yard. The rubbish and bric-a-brac left by the public was sorted and scavenged for resaleable scrap. Everything that was left was subsequently sent to landfill or incineration. Much has changed. Today it is the embodiment of the modern recycling ethos. The recycling centre is a well managed, carefully segregated site providing safe disposal of a wide variety of household and garden waste. Wood, metal and hardcore are recycled and there is similar provision for a multitude of electrical goods. Plastics, oils, paint, batteries can be safely disposed of. I have yet to find a home item that they do not have provision to dispose of. The Foots Cray Reuse and Recycling Centre has won awards for the service it provides and is considered one of the best facilities of its kind in the South East of the country.
One of the things I enjoy most about having my own blog is the fact I can write about the mundane and the trivial. Mainly because so much of life falls into this category. Life defining events are all fine and dandy and certainly lend themselves to philosophical musings that make fine blog posts. However, you can get just as much mileage out of those everyday things in life with less gravitas, that we all do. Such as buying new clothes, taking out the recycling and going to buy groceries. I have written about all of these in the past. However, today I wish to broach a subject that both fascinates me but also raises my blood pressure. I believe it to be a social marker and a clear indication of an individual’s personal psychology. Yes, I’m talking about packing your groceries at the supermarket and the various rituals and social etiquette associated with it.
“Managed decline” is a phrase that refers to the processes associated with the end of a specific lifecycle, with the goal of minimizing costs or other forms of loss. The concept originated in business where it referred to the management of companies and industries. More recently it is used in wider contexts. The concept gained prominence with regard to urban policy, particularly in the UK during the eighties when several major cities suffered economic and political collapse. Of late, the term has been applied to the UK, encompassing a systematic weakening of the economy, social structures, and cultural values, as well as its global political and diplomatic force. In each case, managed decline involves making strategic choices about resource allocation and accepting the consequences of those decisions. It is a complex issue with ethical and practical considerations, often sparking debate about the best way to address decline and reverse the process.
It’s been five years since the COVID-19 global pandemic. At the time it was an utterly alien and tumultuous experience. However, due to the way numerous institutions responded (but not the government), many people thought there would be a great deal of social and political change in the UK afterwards. The pandemic highlighted the impotence of the NHS, as well as those who work in jobs designated as essential. It also shone a spotlight on many of the country’s inequalities. Due to our national character, a real sense of community emerged. Something that had been absent for a very long time. Briefly, we got a glimpse of what the UK could be when we all broadly worked together. There was a sense that now was the time to change the status quo. Sadly, nothing changed. As soon as the vaccination program was launched, the UK quickly slipped back into the mire it’s been wallowing in since the end of WWII.
Prior to writing this post, I clocked a picture on a news website of the now disgraced TV presenter (and nonce) Gregg Wallace. I noticed that he doesn’t smile as such but tends to “gurn” instead. So does UK politician (and cunt) Nigel Farage. He always has his mouth open and his face contorted in some curious rictus, in most of the pictures you see of him. Mind you, I also don’t photograph especially well and any pictures of me smiling tend to look sinister or with a heavy hint of irony. The bottom line is not everyone is good at smiling. It doesn’t come naturally to all of us. This can be a problem at times or in social situations, because smiling is an integral part of our culture. On many occasions, I’ve been walking along, my face in a state of natural repose, only to be harangued by some twat shouting “cheer up, it may never happen”. A phrase I haven’t quite fathomed out, even to this day.
I try not to let the failings of contemporary capitalism get to me but such a mindset is very hard to maintain. From time to time it does just piss you off and you know damn well that there’s nothing you can do about it. So to begin this tale, at the end of November, our Indesit washer/dryer gave up the ghost after a valiant twelve year lifespan. As a result of this household appliance’s stirling work, it was decided to buy another from the same manufacturer. Their website informed me that the model that had just broken was no longer being produced. However, it recommended two newer appliances that had comparable specifications and more importantly the same size. This washer/dryer had to fit into a fitted kitchen unit. To cut a long story short, a model was chosen, purchased, delivered within 48 hours and installed. The broken predecessor was subsequently taken away. The wonders of modern consumer culture!