"Nothing but the rain"
Where vague stuff is placed for filing
I think I have finally figured out how to upload decals to Gran Turismo. This means I can add whatever I want (within bounds of decency) to car liveries.
The best bit is I can save video to YouTube!
Now all I need to do is colour match my decals with this website and upload some groovy KSC based colours!
It’s been a while since I’ve been here and I apologise to my followers. I will be aiming to write more over the next few weeks so get ready for a load of mind-splurge. You should know what I’m like, there’ll be rants, I promise.
I also need to get to the cinema soon, Star Wars is out and I guess I should go and see it.
I’ll also write more about Electroneum, a crypto-currency I’m interested in. If you want to send me ETN then you can do so at the following wallet:
Cheers, m’dears.
/end.
There have been PYO Pumpkin signs around this way for a few weeks and I thought it would be something quite fun to do. Whenever I run the route by the Malta Inn I pass the field and so I knew where it was.
When I arrived the car park was half full with around 100 vehicles. There were many people working there and it was just the most bizarre site. Over in the far corner was a burger bar and drinks van! The whole field looked mostly empty with pumpkins and squash laying everywhere. There was some maize on the eastern flank.
It was like a battle field with dead men and the detritus of war littered over the field. But it was monetised. Many people were on hand to help and make sure you spent lots. All the pumpkins were ready cut and so there was a lot of time and effort that had gone into this enterprise.
There haven’t been any new communications in a while because I have been going through about sixty of them to sort out embedded picture links. I wrote about this here, where I explained that some of my OneDrive pictures weren’t really working within my website.
I could see them, but I think that was because my computer was logged into OneDrive or at least had cookies saying it was logged in. When I checked in an “incognito” window the pictures didn’t show.
The main aim of this embedding was to save space on my server and use the space on my OneDrive allowance as I keep pictures there anyway. I’ve just checked my web server space and I have 100GB, I’m currently at I-Don’t-Know! The web managing tool doesn’t seem to have me down as using any space. Strange! I’ll have another look another time.
Anyway, all communications should have pictures that work! If they don’t work then let me know, my units of readers.
So, how does that make you feel?
It doesn’t do a great deal for me. In the past it has made me feel proud (?) or occasionally tingly but now it mostly leaves me cold. I’ve written about patriotism a few times before such as here, here and here.
As I don’t understand what it means to be British I looked up the official British Values in Google and there was lots of stuff that is accepted as Fundamental British Values for teaching in school.
Fundamental British Values
Democracy – yep, we allow people to vote. But democracy is ruined by the political playing done by those in power who further themselves rather than act in what is best for the citizens of this country. I think Blair, May, Johnson, Rees-Mogg [cunt] and most of the so called “political elite”. See, there, that name “elite”, it reinforces that some are meant to rule and others should be subservient.
Rule Of Law – unless you are rich enough to bend that law. If you are wealthy then you can bend the rules and pay people to do that for you. You can find ways around tax and citizenship so you can play but don’t have to pay. Most of society is forced to behave in a way you find detrimental to your power. We’ve fought two wars recently, most likely based upon personal revenge and lies rather than for any humanitarian purpose. Oh, humanitarian war sounds oxymoronic but war to produce a better society fairer to all is probably the only legitimate reason for war. Politicians can lie and still keep their jobs or accept new jobs.
Individual Liberty – as long as you know your social limit I guess. This is something that people should have. They should have the ability to do what they want within the framework of a liberal legal and law system. You can’t have the liberty to break the law but by and large the state shouldn’t tell you how to behave or what to believe. As a humanist I can get on board with this one. I think the UK does this well. Although we have bishops in the Lords and the hereditary house of lords anyway. The law still states worship everyday in schools, but no school conforms to that. The people should be free to do as they wish. There are still politicians who don’t think that. There are still politicians who are anti-gay. They get elected by a population that is slowly becoming more tolerant, I hope, but occasionally I walk down the high street of my local town and see the intolerance in people and their attitudes.
Respect and Tolerance – sure. Sounds lovely. I’m not sure that’s the reality. So some people will always be scum and act horribly to anyone different. I think this country treats them as they deserve, we largely ignore them. Those who spout hatred and violence go ignored. Unless you are a MP for the DUP, in which case the more you shout the more likely you are to be elected.
So, I think that I am meant to be proud of these values and accept them as British, as part of the fabric of this country. But when I think of this country I think of the following and I am ashamed:
I find it very hard to identify with the flag and the country. I am well aware that at least I live in a country where it is OK to say that. I live in a country with mostly liberal and progressive laws where freedom is cherished. But stand without and look upon the face of this bullish country and it makes me feel sad.
I tried explaining recently to a group of friends why I don’t stand for the national anthem. It was not easy to elucidate my reasons but I tried. I think they possibly forgave me and let it pass knowing what sort of person I am. Trump would, of course, have me sacked because he is very obviously an idiotic bully.
…our Great American Flag (or Country) and should stand for the National Anthem. If not, YOU’RE FIRED. Find something else to do!
— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) September 23, 2017
If it was the law that we had to stand I would like to think I would still stay seated. What does showing respect mean? Why do I have to stand for it? I struggle with this all the time. Oh, how I am a tortured soul [I write ironically].
My friends replied that even if I don’t like the government I could stand for “pork pies and picnics”. Yes, I could stand for that I think, even though I don’t like either. But where in the list of things this country has done is that subsection called “quaint English things to do when it doesn’t rain”?
To be honest I am also struggling with forms of address. Why, if we are all people do I have to call someone else something specific. I am very willing to listen but just because someone does a specific job I have to call them something special? This is reinforcement of the ruling classes over everyone else. It confers a level of respect that possible isn’t due to that person. As an extreme example lets just consider all those parts of the Catholic Church, including the fucking pope, who have covered up / defended / NOT TOLD the police about all the kid-fucking.
I have my moments, when I think, “Wow, that was cool, look at what we can do as a group of people”. But I will not accept this as becoming because of the country. The UK has borders clearly defined by the sea, the parts of Earth where humans can’t live. We should be proud of Newton and Watt. But, they were only born here by chance, others would have worked those things out. Claiming people for your country is weird. Da’Vinci was Italian? Nope. Italy didn’t exist then. But they claim him now don’t they? Just because he entered this world geographically within their imaginary lines on this Earth. See, what does it matter who was born in your country?
I think I started thinking about this when I started work at my current school. On Speech Day we would sing the national anthem and also the school song, Gaudeamus. I found that the national anthem made me feel anger. It doesn’t stand for what I believe. Whereas the school song resonated more with me, even though it is a terrible song. I’ve a feeling this is about the level of community offered by both of these. The school community is more measured and tangible than what this country offers. I know the values and people of this place of work more than I do this country. I know what I sing for when I sing the school song, although that is changing towards a worry about the problems of indoctrination.
So, I do not feel proud to be British. I consider myself a person first and therefore part of humanity. I accept things that fall into the category of “being nice to people”, I reject things that miss that category. Nationality is a label and divides us, much as religions, class and sports teams do. I think this flag stands for dislike and internal-ism, it stands for selfishness and exclusion. It does nothing for me.
Note: This communication was started in February 2017 and thought about a lot. I will miss points I want to make. I have struggled with this problem of identity for a long time and the Brexit vote made me feel it even more. I do not recognise what this country or its people stands for. The current government is inept. The rise of hatred and general xenophobia horrifies me. I write as a stream and much like my lessons I lurch from one thing to another. It is me.
I went to see Mother! to try and make up for the mistake that was American Assassin. The tide was in and the river was quite still. In fact it has been a calm day here altogether in this part of Kent. As is usual I rated this film on IMDB and you can read a description of the rating system in this communication.
I rated Mother! (2017) 4/10 #IMDb https://t.co/ENdpYR45aS
— Ian Parish (@iparish) September 23, 2017
So, this could be controversial. . . .
I did not enjoy this film. I watched it to the end just to see what happened and hopefully answer some questions like WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?
A more accurate title would be “Following Jennifer Lawrence around a house for two hours”.
In the past, when I have encountered a film I hated or didn’t get I have read through reviews and explanations before writing this. Not this time. I will go and look after this is published.
This summer was not a good one for me attempting to park the car. It seems I’ve been a little unlucky or forgetful!
The first incident was caused by me largely not connecting the dots and being in a slight rush. I parked my car at work when I left for CCF Camp. When I did this the entire site was locked because it was being used by the Ramblin’ Man music festival in the park nearby. I managed to get into the car park and was going to park “out of the way” in my normal spot. I decided there and then that I really wanted some CCTV coverage of the car so I zoomed around and parked in the main part of the car park.
I thought little of this until the Tuesday. I was walking down to the Eden Project and I had a phone call asking if the spare keys were nearby. Could I get the car moved as it was blocking the route for a new water and electricity trench that the school needed to build. There was a few hours of consternation until I was eventually called and told that a car breakdown service had been instructed to move the car. I was relieved.
Bora Horza Gobuchul no longer blocked the path for the trench. I had been told about this work that was going to take place, but did not combine this fact with where I parked the car.
The next incident was parking at the M’era Luna festival. Along the journey we had received updates about the parking and rain situation and we arrived around midday to park. The queues into the car park were long and we wondered what the delay was. I followed the instructions given by the parking attendants and turned onto the field. Drive fast they said and don’t stop.
Well. That’s all very well for a manual non-hybrid car without and traction control electronics. I think we managed about 100 metres across the field before we became embedded in the mud. The car was not going anywhere.
We weren’t the only ones. There were many cars getting stuck including a BMW X5. Shortly after this the organisers closed the car park and managed to arrange alternative parking for the festival attendees. One of the attendants explained there would be a tractor when we wanted to leave. I was quite distressed because the car was beeping and flashing lights at me. There wasn’t anything I could do and so I turned the thing off. Andy did well to calm me, slowly my stress lowered and I managed to enjoy most of the weekend without panicking too much.
Before leaving the car park we found the emergency tow hook and I read the instructions about how to fit it and be towed. Mentally I prepared myself for the car to be broken and the steps we would have to go through to get home.
On the Monday morning, in quite a gorgeous setting, we flagged down the tractor man and he towed us out of the hole. I had to put the car into neutral which I rarely do but it all seemed to work well. As we neared the edge of the field the tractor chap unhooked us and said we had to drive the last three metres by ourselves. I’m not really sure why. I wanted a tow to the road so I had a proper surface to drive on.
I floored the accelerator and the car moved to the road. I shouted to Andy to get in and we left. A few miles up the road I removed the emergency tow hook. We headed to the UK. All seemed far better than I had expected!
The good news is that since I am now back at work the summer is officially over and I have had no more parking incidents. I even had quite a time in the Lake District and then Bradford and neither resulted in issues. My nerves have dissipated now.
One thing I shan’t miss about being at St Mawgan is the wind noise made by a gentle breeze outside the window of my room. I was messed in Shackleton block and the windows and walls are designed in such a way as to maximise the view and privacy along with the area of the room. It was quite clever. However after the first night I soon realised the error in the design.
The wind noise was terrible.
I had thought that this was just because the wind was in a particular direction but, no, it was noisy every day, even with very little wind.
Now, this is Cornwall, close to the sea and atop a hill. So it was rarely wind-less. The howling did not do much to help my tiredness and general lack of rest. It was quite annoying.
It seems it is quite traditional for me to drive all over this country during the summer while also traversing others. Part one of this manic adventure was out in the south west and gorgeous Cornwall. I had a lovely time. Here are some of my best photographs, just appreciate the lengths I go to show you lovely places and things.
This quaint fishing village, now mostly tourism, has a lovely old bridge and speedboat rides.
Also, I don’t think I quite captured just how beautiful this next scene looked in real life, but I only took a quick shot with the phone rather than a proper camera.
Cotehele House is lovely. But, whenever I visit these old houses it reminds me of the blatant and appalling class difference in this country and how this is reinforced by these old “stately” homes. These rich wankers are here “to look after us” and wasn’t life simpler when there was a Lord Of The Manor. Well, fuck you British history, I hate this sub-conscious reinforcement of “place in society”. I dare you to watch Disney stories and spot how they reinforce the order of birth-right.
The house was pretty though. This picture is just the quayside so not even the proper part of the estate!
Kit Hill is a local Marilyn. There was a road all the way to the top, although I think I would have preferred to park at the bottom and walk up by myself.
Lantic Bay was a lovely secluded bay on the south coast where the blustery wind couldn’t quite reach. The sand was shingle and coarse so it hurt to walk on it, but the views were bloody lovely. The air was warm and the sea was cold. There was a short walk from the car park to the beach down the rugged cliff side and it amused me how much people were struggling on the way back up. I found it too easy and it made me want to go running more!
At Godrevy Bay I found muscles. Not undiscovered ones in my body but loads on the rocks.
Went on a rainy trip around HM Naval Base to see the warships from the river and a short while later we saw the Dutch Frigate leaving for the open sea. The following ships were alongside: two Trafalgar class submarines, HMS Sutherland, HMS Ocean, HMS Bulwark, HMS Albion and some RFA ships.
At the National Marine Aquarium I saw sharks and turtles and jelly fish and loads of pretty stuff.
This is a carnivore:
Wandered around this stone circle in the rain:
My first impression was that the queue seemed quite long and I tried to book tickets online while standing in the queue but the next available session was in three hour’s time. It seemed a slow moving queue to me. Then we went to the restaurant. There were four queues but the food selection was down one side of them and the system wasn’t CLEAR. It was not a pleasant experience.
As it rained we used the bus to drive us the 2km to the stones from the visitors centre. This was the only time my ticket was checked. When we got to the stones we wandered around but I am largely uninspired by them. They seem more impressive from the road as you drive by.
If you want to visit. Pay to park and then walk to the stones. If there’s no one checking tickets just walk through. If there is someone checking tickets you can still get a good view from the free-viewing-area. Don’t pay the money.
Because it’s not like me to be controversial but apparently there are people who believe that the rainbow is a direct sign from god reinforcing his promise not to kill everyone [again].
Anyway, here’s a rainbow from this evening.
I wrote a while ago about moving over the BT Broadband and leaving Sky TV. I still don’t miss Sky TV. I stream most TV now and can do so with multiple devices at the same time.
I received a few letters from BT offering me a new deal for when my contract is finished. I tried to use the web address to look at these offers but I have to say that the BT web design was quite shit and I got to a point where I didn’t understand what the web page wanted me to do.
So, I phoned them and spoke to someone. This person could see my offer, explain it to me and also take my instruction to accept the offer. Essentially I could let my broadband [and phone] price increase at the end of my contract, or I could UPGRADE to the next level of broadband for the same price that I pay now.
Doesn’t seem much to that decision does there? I had to sign up for two years but as they are the only company supplying high bandwidth to my village it’s not like I’m likely to change.
Here’re my latest stats:
I think that’s pretty good for copper to the house, although it is fibre to cabinet.
While in Cyprus I sustained a terrible injury. On the day we went to the reservoir to take part in some dragon boating I clambered up the banking to get a better vantage point for photographs.
Once it was decided that the safety equipment wasn’t good enough I had to descend the embankment, which I did with much grace and poise. I did, however, happen to place my hand down on a local plant with thorns.
These thorns punctured my skin and have left marks. This is bad form.
The marks are still there about a month after the event. Am I concerned? No. Should I be concerned? I doubt it. They’ll go away, especially after the amount of homoeopathic arnica I took last week during a class information session on homoeopathy [sarcasm intended, although I really did take loads of pillules].
I’ve been known to investigate the northern and tidal reaches of the Medway, read here. Today I wandered the area near Teston bridge. For a small country park it was well organised and had loos. The paths were clear and the highland cattle were well behaved. It’s a lovely little area.
The photo shows the area that isn’t the park. The open access area is where I am standing. over the Medway is other stuff.
The lock is pretty impressive and looks quite new, for a lock. There was a boat navigating its way downstream as I was there. The genius of man never fails to impress me.
This is the weir next to the lock.
I am slightly worried that these communications are becoming much like a travel blog but without the glamorous locations. My suspicion is that there are too many photos and not enough on here of an analytical nature. I will change that over time. I guess there are many pretty things that are worth sharing here. Whenever I am ranting it’s never a pretty topic or particularly clean language.
Driving home from a reasonably unsuccessful shopping session yesterday I saw smoke. While the shopping did not result in me buying anything I did gather information on what particular design of product I would like so more successful than unsuccessful but not a success. I chose to take the “country” route home which means coming off the motorway a junction early and using the new bridge. This is not a shorter route and nor is it quicker. When I was young we would have called this “one of mum’s shortcuts” which obviously weren’t. But, there is a wonderful corner. It’s a blind, off camber, over the crest corner. If you don’t know it’s there you won’t make it. It feels great to drive it although I would prefer a car with a more positive accelerator feedback system. In the diagram below you can see the bridge under construction [A], the corner [B] and the best direction of travel [C].
There have been accidents here. The press have come out to take photos. But there are signs and you should drive sensibly. If you don’t know the road it will probably surprise you. If you know the road and come off then tough shit I guess, I just hope you don’t hurt anyone.
Before we had taken the corner I noticed smoke above the village and I tried to use some parallax measures to work out if it was from houses or the quarry just before the conurbation. It was definitely in the area of the houses. My next thought was I hope it’s not in Belgrave St because they won’t get a fire engine down there. It’s a Victorian street with just enough room for parking on both sides and a car’s worth of gap down the middle. Anything larger than a car won’t fit. I’d hate to live down there, emergency access would constantly bother me. I’d also have way more fire alarms than I currently do.
I think I’m probably a little paranoid about fire and escaping the house. I never lock the locks in windows. I keep keys on hangers by the door and even brief visitors about where these things are kept. I have plenty of fire alarms. Whenever I am in a new building I scan for emergency routes out. I honestly do count the rows to emergency exits on planes, forwards and backwards. I want to know how to get out.
Driving down the straight towards my village and it becomes apparent that the smoke is coming from roughly near my house. Given my predisposition to worry about fire I worried about the fire. I have an in-my-head scenario of driving home one day and seeing my house burning or just gone. As I turned down my street I could see people out wandering around trying to see what was happening and then a fire engine turned in behind me. I could see smoke rising from behind the terrace and realised it was a garden fire. I just hoped it didn’t spread to the houses. I sped up down the street so the fire engine could get in position.
The fire turned out to be a shed and some fencing that was burning furiously. The smoke was drifting past the back of my house. After parking I went in and looked out of the window at the back of the house. I could see firemen fighting the fire. I wandered down the street to look at the fire engine and see if more man-power was needed. A brief chat with the man operating the pump and then back to my house.
This morning there is ash in the garden slowly being washed away by the rain.
The best thing about this is that no-one was hurt.
This was the second fire in the gardens along this street. It was the first I hadn’t helped fight. It was the first during the day time. I’ll maybe write about the very first another time.
I have a communication I am trying to write but I can’t yet find the words. I know what I want to say and can probably sum it up in two short sentences but I really want to elucidate my offerings with my personal experiences, up to a point.
So, I wondered if I could glean some data from this website. It takes effort, time and concentration to write these communications, even if it doesn’t look like it. I thought I’d look at how many communications I had published each month since this site started and spot how that fits into my plans for another piece of writing.
I don’t like Excel, or at least the graphs it draws but this is a start. Except I’m sure it doesn’t show what I expected. Believe it or not that is a good thing in science. But it won’t help me with my writing.
Perhaps a moving average would work?
Nope. There’s not a great deal I can take from this either. My hypothesis failed entirely. Which, again is a good thing. Great bounds in understanding are made not when things go right but when they don’t go as expected. “Hmmm, that’s interesting” is probably the most exciting thing a scientist can say.
So, this didn’t work. I need another way of getting into writing the next something. It’s currently sitting as a draft with thirty words looking all sad and alone. I will get around to it. The tricky bit will be deciding which words and what order!
Babylon 5 is a space station 5 miles long. The adventures of this ship are chronicled in the TV documentary Babylon 5. Using interviews, memoirs, video messages and data harvesting a company managed to recreate what life will be like on Babylon 5. There are some stark warnings from the future for the current political elite.
Babylon 5 series 1 episode 1. Goodbye life. Hello escapism. See you in a year or so.
— Ian Parish (@iparish) April 4, 2014
So this tweet was dated 4th April 2014. That’s when I started working my way through Babylon 5. If I had paid more attention to when I started watching this then I would have tried to tweet the following two days earlier:
Babylon 5. Season 5. Episode 22. “Sleeping in light”.
— Ian Parish (@iparish) April 5, 2017
So, it took me three years and 2 days to complete the series. I don’t think that’s too bad. There’re 120 or so episodes and that averages out at one episode every ten days. It was a damn enjoyable experience. Jase gave me the box set a long time ago and I’ve been using them as a way of stabilising thoughts and also watching sci-fi. I haven’t stayed exclusive to this series and I have watched others along the way.
The stories are excellent and this show deserves the accolades it gets. I really enjoyed it. Obviously some episodes aren’t as good as others but overall this was a great TV show.
I am currently working through the spin-off series, Crusade, but there is only one series of that. Then there will be the B5 films.
Crusade. Episode 1. “The war zone”.
— Ian Parish (@iparish) April 6, 2017
If you want to see when I watched all the episodes of B5 then look at my offline-online twitter archive and search for “Babylon 5”.
Sunday afternoon is meant to mean a walk and a roast dinner. I think. I don’t really subscribe to this view as I don’t really like roast dinners but I am happy to have a walk. There’s a wood near where I live called oxymoronically Bushey Wood. Bluebells grow in there.
I’ve written about the wood before but have spelt the name wrong. See here and here. I’m not going to correct those. One of the guiding principles of this website is that it is how it is. There is very little I have altered. If I have altered stuff then I use the strike through symbol.
On the way to the wood there were lots of people dressed in high-visibility red/orange suits. They were Kent Rescue taking part in an exercise. I think I have found something extra I can do. I just need to work out if I can afford the time.
The footpath through the wood revealed a glorious covering of bluebells.
Spring time is here. Let the sun come out and warm our glorious lands [and other rubbish like that]. But, seriously, some sun would be nice, it’s cold here!
No, I don’t mean Bluebirds of the Clan Campbell variety, they are entirely different and not covered in this communication. This communication deals with the rare communication device of the Second World War where the country listened to a female sing propaganda about the White Cliffs. This is the sort of jingoistic bullshit we see our country faced with at the moment. All this Brexit shit. Anyway, here are some photographs of a recent trip to Dover to see the port.
It was foggy and so a wonderfully bad day to visit the cliffs. I was hoping to see France but, at times, I couldn’t see my hand!
Now for a view of some calcium carbonate.
While in the area I also went to see the Louis Blériot Memorial. I didn’t get a photo of it, but I did take this one of the castle in the mist.
Finally, here’s a photo of some collected chalk pieces. It’s quite a satisfying photo but I am unsure why.
I’ve noticed this apparition a few times recently. I’ve been out running to the east of the village and nearly fallen over past this tree. Well, it’s a mug tree, isn’t it. Any idea why?
I have to say that it looks a little better in the winter and the mugs stand out more, but you get the idea. How very strange, but also, quite cool. I think that one of my mugs will end up on it soon.
I am sure that some people could be convinced that this is a rare form of tree. One that grows mugs. Most major china exporters have more of them. Obviously.
Here’s another view of my VRS Splat:
