Dealing Death

In my last blog I touched briefly on the subject of the death penalty. Now I'm guessing that those few of you who actually bother to read this have probably assumed that I am on the left wing of the political spectrum. This is in fact not true. I'm a pragmatist. If I believed that the war on drugs was a winnable and good for society, I would have no option but to support it I'm against it because there isn't a single measurable metric that indicates that it's a worthwhile endeavour. Equally if it could be shown that the death penalty had a single positive effect I would be forced to support it. It does not.

Those who support the death penalty site three primary arguments in favour of their position. I'll run through each of these in turn.

The primary argument put forward is that the death penalty acts as a deterrent. The evidence from this is at best inconclusive. The problem is that it's very difficult to gain a clear idea of the figures due to the fact that the only real-world testing ground is America. It's the only place where states with similar laws and social-economic factors but with different policies on capital punishment rub shoulders. Unfortunately every state in America is very much it's own barrel of parsnips. There are so many other variations that it's hard to see what might be causing variances in the crime rate. Even those studies that tend towards supporting the death penalty estimate each execution as saving roughly 18 lives. Even in execution happy Texas only clocks up 1 execution a month that's only 216 lives saved a year. Subtracting from that the twelve who you have to kill that's only 204 lives total saved. Texas has a population of 25,674,681 according to the latest census data. That's 0.000794557% of the population saved each year. Not strong support for a major policy decision. Add to that the opinion of Steven D. Levitt of Freakonomics fame that:

“if you do back-of-the-envelope calculations, it becomes clear that no rational criminal should be deterred by the death penalty, since the punishment is too distant and too unlikely to merit much attention”

You've pretty knocked that argument on the head.

Second up is the the belief that it is significantly less costly to simply kill criminals than to imprison them. Well it's also cheaper to set up a Escape From New York style prison island and just drop in food once a week that doesn't mean it's a good idea. Leaving that idea, which is a fantastic idea until someone inside the manages to kidnap the presidents daughter, to one side lets examine the actual costs. It costs the same to keep someone in prison for twenty years whether they are on death row or not. Now the average life sentence doesn't extend much beyond 30 years. If you're imprisoned at the age of 30 by the age of 60 you're probably not considered much of a threat to society. So obviously your basic costs will be higher for the lifer than the dead-man-walking. However if you get life in prison you are probably going to settle with the verdict of your first appeal, especially if you are guilty. On the other hand even the most blatantly guilty will fight tooth and nail to overturn a death penalty the cost of all these appeals will amount to a small fortune much more than life in prison. Of course you can give them less appeals but then you've increased the chances of killing the innocent which in the long term will just undermine the authority of the justice system.

So the third and final argument I want to deal with is a simpler and more emotional one that is usually worded simply 'hanging's to good for them'. Now I'm not denying that some people deserve to be killed, but they mostly sit behind desks in suits. However it completely ignores the simple question of whether or not we deserve to kill. Stop focussing on how much paedophiles aka the mentally ill (if you don't think it's mentally ill to fuck kids... get help) deserve to die and focus on how much the state deserves to kill. Do you trust the government with the power over life and death? If you live in the modern world you either live in a developing nation with a horrifyingly corrupt government that is in cahoots with the military, business interests and the media to maintain a grasp on power. Or you live in a developed nation with a horrifyingly corrupt government that is in cahoots with the military, business interests and the media to maintain a grasp on power. Do you really believe that these fuckers would hesitate to kill an innocent man through negligence or malice. I don't. I find it concerning enough that these people control the economy to their own nefarious ends. Watch any science fiction movie that starts out with a system only slightly more corrupt than the one we live in and tell me what happens to outspoken critics of the government... Exactly! Don't give those fuckers anything close to that option.

eddie <death to death>

Stupid Arguments

I recently wrote, here, about the ridiculous twaddle that preachy carnivores have a tendency to trot out whilst they are persecuting Vegetarians, all the while never spending any time focussing on the fact that we leave more bacon for them. Like most of my articles it engendered a lot of thought, debate and comment. Like most of my articles it was only me it engendered this in... Come on people pimp this blog to your friends... What it mainly got me thinking about was other ridiculous arguments. So here I am going to present some other arguments I find stupid. I'm not going to tell you where I fall on these topics because I broadly agree with some and broadly disagree with others but these particular arguments are absolutely terrible.

“We can't get rid of the monarchy they're great for tourism”

If you happen to live anywhere other the United Kingdom then you probably don't have to regularly hear people discussing the pros and cons of abolishing the monarchy unless you live in 16^th Century France. This debate does have merit on both sides but this argument is stupid. If China was to start running the Hunger Games it would be phenomenal for tourism that doesn't mean it's a good idea. I chose China because they could pull it off. If tourism is your primary concern then abolish the monarchy and build a Harry Potter theme park on the site of the Buckingham Palace. No scratch that you put, Diagon Alley, Nocturn Ally, Gringotts et al there and build Hogwarts at Balmoral and link 'em by the Hogwarts Express. That'd make us millions.

“Scientists believe in things that they can't see as well”

This argument is largely trotted out by religionists and is there way of pointing towards dark matter, dark energy and the like as being equivalent to believing in god. Now there are a whole ton of reasons to believe in a deity... none of them persuade me but that's a separate issue. You see Scientists don't want Dark Matter and Dark Energy to exist it's a theory that exists to explain the world the universe works. That is to say that the theories of Dark Matter and Energy only exist because they are the best explanation of things that we have witnessed, removing them from the equations stops the maths that underpins the workings of the universe stops working. Physicists working in this field know that the maths does work because it make testable predictions and explains observable facts. If you come home find your door kicked in and your TV missing and you say 'a thief has been here' it is not akin to believing in god. I can't see the atmosphere I know it's there though.

“There are a lot of holes in the evidence for evolution.”

This is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. There is more evidence to support the theory of evolution than any other theory to explain the origin of life on earth. Not just some more. Fuckloads more. Evidence has been gathered and amassed that supports it for 150 years. This argument further more is presented by people who's only evidence for there theory is two chapters of a book that was written approximately 1800 years ago and of whose author we know literally nothing. It's very much like a naked man point out a hole in your t-shirt.

“You've read a lot of books but the real world doesn't really work like that”

This is less of an argument in itself and something that is more used to dismiss any argument backed up by statistics or facts. The reason it's so fundamentally flawed is that it assumes that any degree of 'book-learning' is gained at the expense of real-world experience, when it's not it's gained at the expense of real-world experience it's gained at the expense of watching sports, reading the tabloids and having terrible taste in television. People who have a decent understanding of science, statistics and social issues still go down the pub and have as many anecdotes about the funny thing Dave did as those who don't. They just also know that the death penalty doesn't act as a deterrent due to the facts that US states with and without it still have similar crime-rates, and psychological experiments that prove criminals don't think about punishment before committing a crime.

“Only humans have war.”

This is an argument put forward by those those on the left-wing who are usually also members of PETA or some bollocks. The argument basically being that we are inherently a worse species than most of the others. Utterly failing to understand the way the world works. We are the top predator on this planet and if we weren't whatever had developed to take our place would have been as warlike as us. Without war and struggle you can't rise to this level you'd just end up as a ig lizard until a giant space-rock killed everyone. Also only humans have romance and medicine so it's not a great argument. In addition to these points animals are constantly fighting with each other for food, mating rights and territory.

“Scientists don't know how it gravity works so it must be god.”

Richard Dawkins calls this the god of the gaps. It's one of those ridiculous arguments that renders debate futile. You see scientists don't understand how gravity or mass work... YET! They're working on it as we speak. You've basically set a limit on you're belief in god. As soon as science works out gravity you've lost the argument. It's the argument that was used thousands of years ago except then it was 'we don't know why the sun rises so it must be god.' Well we know that now and we'll know a metric fuck-ton more in the future. Arguing that science hasn't unravelled a mystery yet therefore god is as stupid as it is ridiculous.

Once again I try to see the merit in all points of view but these arguments are just pathetic enough to undermine your entire point.

eddie <all for intelligent opposition>

Christmas Tales Part 1

 Unfortunately today I'm going through some personal stuff so I'm not going to be able to present a new blog today so here in it's place is a short story. Last Christmas due to the fact that I am caring, creative and cheap in equal measure I wrote a series of short stories starring my friends. What follows is one of them. I will eventually upload all of these. This particular story is about my friend who blogs here.

Hayley Stanbrook: Dinosaur Hunter

Hayley Stanbrook, adventurer, dinosaur hunter and notorious cupcake thief, was standing in the hall way of her newly built town house, the last one had been damaged beyond all repair after what most of the folk in Ole London Town called 'The Mammoth Incident'. Above her Milly the maid and Hermen Gestault the butler, whom she'd won from Lord West in a game of snap, were directing a team of men to position a mounted triceratops skull above the fire place.

“Left a bit” Hayley said exasperatedly, what should have been the simple operation of rehanging the trophies of her various previous engagements had been turned into an elaborate palaver by Hermen's insistence on hiring a team of winsome cockney urchins rather than the burly professionals she would've preferred. “I've got to meet the Prime Minister for cake and medals at three” She said glancing at her pocket watch, it's single hand was slowly moving away from 'Early' towards 'Late'. It wouldn't do at all to miss such a prestigious event especially when she was also hoping to win a pardon for her last spate of cupcake thefts. “Look it'll have to do where it is!” She shouted as the head swung further to the left than she wanted.

“Sorry Miss.” Hermen replied with a hefty sigh, he'd been hoping that the urchins would be cheaper and better and knew his failure would result in him having to wear the bunny costume his mistress use in the place of the corporal punishment preferred by the more conventional members of high society. “I'll get the costume”

“You'd bloody well better.” Said Hayley turning and striding towards the study to collect her blunderbuss. The PM did rather dislike her bringing it to official meetings but had softened to the idea ever since she'd saved his life from a trained assassin raptor sent on orders of the German Chancellor. The German's had learnt a costly lesson about dinosaur attacks on her turf that day and shortly afterwards had stopped parachuting dinosaurs into the capital entirely. Thinking about it brought a smirk to Hayley's face, that little escapade had increased her total count of deceased lizards to the highest the London Esteemed Dinosaur Forum had ever seen, earning her portrait pride of place in the clubs main lounge. Even Old Lord Pogo whom she'd replaced had the good grace to compliment her on the kill. As she was lost in thought she heard the sound of footsteps and steam behind her. She turned to see Little Jimmy Steam-Legs, the most famed urchin courier in all the empire sliding to a halt in the middle of the room. He was casting his eyes around agape at the surroundings as boiling water dribbled from his eight mechanical octopus legs.

“Cor blimey, Miss, they ain't 'alf done a lovely job in 'ere and no mistake.” Jimmy exclaimed. He was right of course but then Hayley had paid top dollar to have the ancestral home returned to it's pre-mammoth glory.

“Is there a reason for this visit Jimmy, or were you just stopping by to comment on the décor?” Hayley enquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Lord Barnaby's pet Tyrannosaur is on the loose in Hyde Park. It's causing a terrible scene if it pleases ya' miss.” Jimmy exclaimed. Hayley had told the blasted fool time and again that he couldn't keep such a beast as a pet but he'd assured her he'd trained it to only eat marmalade on toast. She felt like a fool for believing him. Hayley grabbed her blunderbuss from the mantel and ran out the door without stopping to grab her hat and overcoat.

“Jimmy,” she turned her head to the side to see that the Jimmy's freakish mechanical legs were easily keeping pace with her, “Get to the Zoo and tell them Lady Stanbrook needs her cat.” Jimmy replied with a nod and took the the next side road, his odd collection of limbs kicking up a trail of dust behind him as he became a blur of steam and urchin charm.

***

Hayley leapt from the roof of the Hanson Cab as it pulled to a halt outside the parkland, She'd have like to have gotten closer but the gallimimus were spooked and besides the cab would make little headway through the throng of people fleeing the area. She tried to push through the crowd at first but made little headway, she gave a frustrated 'hurrumph' before shooting her gun into the sky, it made a noise like thunder and the crowd parted like the red sea. The gun was of her own design and no sooner had she fired than the small clockwork monkey concealed in the butt of the weapon scampered up the barrel and started reloading it with fresh shot. She'd gotten the idea for it from the man she was courting whom was said by others to have the looks, brains and dexterity of a monkey and was a dab hand at basic weapon maintenance.

After a few moments she found herself standing alongside the frail frame of Lord Barnaby, who was clutching a small dinosaur whistle in one hand and the tattered remains of a small leather leash in the other. He had the decency to look ashamed of himself as she glowered at him.

“I'm terribly sorry to trouble you Miss.” He said shuffling his feet like a naughty schoolboy. “Clementine's never normally like this, I'm afraid I let her wander to close to the Marmalade Toasty Stand. She ate the thing in one bite, Mr Owagnu with it.” Hayley shook her head.

“Well this is very bad I'm afraid my Lordship. First if all Mr Owagnu made the best Marmalade Toasties in all of England and I was exceptionally partial to them myself. Secondly I will have to kill the beast now it's tasted human blood.”

“But why?” his Lordship asked plaintively

“Have you ever tasted human blood? That shits delicious.” She shook her head and strode towards the vast lumbering beast. When she got close to the beast she let off another shot and caught the beast in the back, it had little effect but got the beasts attention, it swung it's vast head towards her, unintentionally pelting her with oranges from the tattered remains of food stand which was still attached to it's face. Hayley held up a finger for a moment and the beast halted while she cackled at it's ridiculous predicament. After she had regained her composure she looked back to see the creature giving her an impatient stare and tapping it's foot. “OK, I'm done.”

“GRAAAAAAARRRR!” Said the T-Rex in reply... although some people later said it was more of a “RAWRRRRR!” It didn't matter to Hayley, as by this point the monkey had repacked her weapon and she was fired a hefty load of shot into it's mouth. It was a perfect shot and would've signalled the end of the beast if most of the shot hadn't been entrapped in the vast amount of marmalade that the beast had in it's maw. Before Hayley had time to react the beast had turned and swiped at her with it's tail.

The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she managed to keep the blunderbuss gripped in her hands, and the clockwork monkey managed to keep a firm grip on the blunderbuss. Instead of impacting on the hard grassy earth she found herself hanging from the jaw of a great Sabre-tooth Cat.

“Milo!” She exclaimed slinging her arms around her favourite pet, and London Zoo's most famous resident. Within seconds she had clambered on to his back and was taking aim once more at the great destructive lizard. Milo pounced towards the beast in a series of tremendous bounds that would have shaken off a rider without her experience and prodigious thigh strength. She gently pulled on his fur and he leapt to the right just as the huge orangey jaw snapped shut behind them. As he landed she pulled his head to the left and in one epic leap he was claw deep in the lizard's tail. Hayley hung on for dear life as the tail snapped back and forth but Milo slowly clawed his way up the great colossus. A T-Rex is a fearsome beast from the front but once on it's back there is little it can do due to it's tiny arms, which are great for humorous dance routines but sadly for little else.

Once they were high enough Hayley hopped down from her mounts back and pressed the blunderbuss to the back of her foes head. A second later the park was silent save for the echoes of the thunderous shot. The creature slowly slumped forward and Hayley slid into a mess of brains and marmalade which made her vow that she'd only eat smooth marmalade from that day forth.

***

What with all the fuss it had slipped Hayley's mind that she was supposed to be meeting the Prime Minister, but she needn't have worried as he'd heard about the trouble and hurried down to the park himself. He'd awarded her an extra medal there and then. Lord Barnaby had been inconsolable but had agreed to sell the remains of his favourite pet to the Royal Society and give the proceeds to Mrs Owagnu whom, Hayley was delighted to hear, knew the secret of her husbands marvellous toasties and promised her a free supply for life.

The pictures of Hayley shaking hands with the PM in front of the slain beast had made the front page of the Metro, a clipping which Hermen had framed and hung on the wall beneath the triceratops head. She was glad he'd chosen that page and the not the page about the cake shop on the other side of the park thought Hayley as she munched on a cupcake with a sly smirk.

How Hard Is It To Lose An Election

Hello, readers. I thought that today I might write about a subject that irks me, irks me something hard. Over the course of this blog I've made a good many allusions, some subtle some not so subtle to the fact that my homeland of Great Britainshire is slowly drifting towards becoming a filthy repressive police state. I mainly fear this as I'm already to old to be the courageous hero who ends the corporations grip on this nation, I'm much more likely to be the inspiring underground leader of the rebellion who dies just before giving all the secret plans or whatnot to the beleaguered hero. Like that thing in that guys chest in Total Recall. I don't think that I'm massively exaggerating the risks with my rhetoric and I have a single great reason for believing that. It's the fact that I live in a country where it is impossible for the vested interests of those corporations to lose.

This is very much the best I can aspire to.

There are three main parties in my country, he scoffed there are two and a bunch of losers whose foolish backstabbing has rendered them a worthless political force. Those two parties are both so deep in the pockets of the likes of G4S, the world's second largest employer and a security firm that will take literally any job regardless of morality, News International, Rupert Murdochs propaganda-for-hire machine, and anyone else who feels like pushing them around. The list of corporate tax-dodgers is far to long to go into here but includes the likes of Vodafone, Top-Shop and Tesco. Like I say it is literally impossible for the corporations to lose out not just because both parties refuse to do anything to challenge their all powerful might but also because it is very near impossible to lose an election in this country.

This idiot won... How hard is it to lose.

For those who don't have the benefit of a british education allow me to explain our ridiculous system to you. We don't have a chance to just vote for the leader we think is best. We instead vote for a local MP who once elected throws his support behind the leader of his respective party. This means that most people ignore there local candidate and just tick the box of the part with the least objectionable cunt. There are 650 seats available in the UK parliament meaning 326 seats is the minimum required to win a majority this also means that 326 votes is the minimum number required win an election.

Actually three more people than
are required for a proper pub fight.

So lets look at how hard everyone tried to lose the last election. For starters the political figures of our nation are such an uninspiring bunch of losers that only 65% of our population turned out to vote. 35% of our people are so disaffected with our political system that during a mass recession and two wars over a third still didn't give a fuck, but then why would they there is nothing to distinguish any of the parties from one another. Seriously that is pathetic enough without going into any more but fuck it let's plough on. Our current leader managed to secure 306 seats (all data is available here) that's an absolutely unconvincing 47% of the seats. If you had cancer and were told the treatment was 47% effective you'd be waiting for death. That's not all though, because our system unfairly exaggerates swings in the vote Mr Cameron's party only achieved 36.1% of the vote, not the electorate the vote. No of the total number of votes available Mr Cameron got 36.1% of 65% for those not great at maths that equates to 23.465%.

The Tory is the always the one who grabs the first slice

The man currently running this entire country was not only forced to form a coalition to trick his way into power but also was voted for by less than one in four people. That is not democracy and anyone who tells you it is, is a fucking idiot. This is the position of authority from which this man sells of the NHS, privatises the police-force and lets his corporate buddies chum up to his ministers. There have been occupying forces with more support than that, I know that because they were us. How did this all happen?

"Say what you like about them but they make the
trains, which they invented and installed, run on time"

Well it's simple those corporations don't want you voting. News International is only one of a dozen distraction engines that work tireless around the clock to keep you from spending any time from actually realising that you are fucked. If those figures came out of a small oil-rich middle-eastern country that were rethinking there energy policy they'd be front page news everyday until they were replaced with pictures of the same country after a sustained bombing campaign. However as long as it serves the interests of the ruling class to have these puppets dancing to their jig they will make sure that you don't give a fuck.

Love 'em or hate 'em as long as you don't focus on the Leveson Enquiry.

The real problem with this kind of thing is that the entire thing is completely fine right up until the point it's terribly wrong and the only hope we have as a nation is that when that happens the ruling classes won't have gotten so much of what they want that rebellion is impossible.

eddie <power to the people, up the tooting popular front>

The Conservationist (Part 1)

(Today I present the transcription of a man I met recently met on my travels)

Turning up in the pub at the end of the day with a fresh bandage wrapped around a finger, arm or on the less fortunate days my head, it's a sure fire way to get asked some questions. After a while climbing accident, whilst technically accurate, doesn't cut it any more, so I learned to shrug and say 'Work'. Of course there's only so many times you can say that before you get asked the what exactly it is you do for a living. It turns out that like with most truly unbelievable things the best option is to go for the truth. Conservation. It's a broad word covering a lot of areas it also explains the climbing and the injuries, the worlds most endangered creatures are rarely it's most harmless, it explains all manner of cuts and bruises. As long as no-one ever looks under the bandages they'll never see the burns. Which is for the good, if you think poaching is a problem for people trying to restore the Golden Eagle population can you imagine how bad it would be if they got wind of a genuine phoenix population nestled in the highlands of Scotland.

It's one of only half a dozen or so nesting sites left in the world. I say left but we're fairly certain numbers have never been historically that high. The colony here is the seasonal home to over twenty breeding pairs, that makes it the largest colony in the world. Managing the population calls for a particular set of skills. It's not just enough to be an expert in the field of conservation, top of my class at Oxford, you've also got to combine the skill set of a ranger, guide, spy, paramedic and firefighter.

Some of that is self explanatory some of it might be a little harder to follow. Most conservation sites are set up specifically to make the work done there as easy as possible, unfortunately we don't have to option of building anything that would be permanent and therefore visible. The need for secrecy is of course paramount. If you think poachers are a problem for people who are trying to increase the world tiger population then you can imagine how bad it would be if they caught a whiff of the fact that we had a population of genuine mythical beasts. I think I can best explain the nature of my work by telling you something about the creatures I work with.

The Pheonix (aquila aviaduro) nests high in the cliff-faces of the scottish mountains. They make their nests by perching on the edge of the rock and letting out a concentrated stream of flame. The heats generated vary from bird to bird but all adults of breeding age can produce enough heat to melt rock and they use this to make a small hollow in the rock-face. After leaving the rock to cool they stuff the newly formed opening with collected twigs. These are then burnt to ash by another blast of flame, the birds are very good at regulating the temperature of the blast. On average this will be done a dozen times before the base of the hollow is filled with enough ash to form a soft base on which the eggs may rest. All of this work is done by the male, who arrives at the nesting site about a week before the females.

The females arrive after dark on the vernal equinox every year which has led some of us to hypothesise that phoenix largely navigates by the position of stars, sun and the moon as opposed to having an internal compass. As they arrive the males perch on the edge of the nests and shoot flame into the air. The females are looking for the most powerful flame, there then follows a brief scuffle as the females fight over the male with the largest flame with the winning female and the male taking flight together. They then engage in a mating ritual that is almost indescribable. The two birds take to the air and engage in something that is part aerobatics and part fireworks display. When this is done the male takes flight and disappears. All attempts at tracking where these magnificent creatures go during the rest of the year have resolutely failed, it's not that feasible to attach a tracking device to a creature that can simply burn it off. The females, now impregnated, return to the nests.

We don't get much of a chance to get close to the nests whilst the males are present due to the high temperatures and the much more aggressive nature of the male birds. Once they depart we go to work almost immediately. At first light after watching the whole mating display unfold we start abseiling down the cliff-face to the nests and check on the females. The eggs won't be laid until a few days later but we need to check in on the females to check that they haven't injured themselves during the mating process. The females are much more docile than the males and allow us to do this work, we also take substantial notes and photographs at this point. Without the ability to tag the birds this is the only way we have of comparing the birds from one mating season to another. We find that the females tend to return every two years, sometimes as long as three. For the next three days we will spend a lot of time monitoring the birds. As they will spend this time in the nests preparing to lay.

Each bird will lay a single egg approximately the size of a golf ball, the birds themselves are about the same size as a peregrine falcon. The eggs are almost completely round with a very slight point to it black in colour but with a metallic sheen to them, the birds leave them on their own whilst then go hunting. Whilst for most bird species this would be a death penalty for the unhatched young the phoenix egg is scalding to the touch. Strangely this isn't due to heat but rather due to the icy cold. The egg is cold as it's funnelling all available heat in the area into the heart of the egg. The eggs will not hatch until the Summer Solstice. This time is when we do most of our work studying the birds although we're working on a very incomplete level we do know that they are definitely nocturnal.

I could write pages and pages on the habits of the birds but this is supposed to a quick overview so I'll just jump ahead to hatching day. The birds hatch on the shortest night of the the year and each nest becomes a beacon of light. The entire cliff-face turns into a wonderful light-show from a distance. At this point we have to stop venturing too close to the nests for two weeks as the early stages of the birds lives are spent at an incredibly high temperature. After that time we feel safe to venture down the cliff again to catalogue the new birds. This is when most of the injuries to the team take place as we have no idea if we are approaching a docile female or an aggressive male.

Part 2

(I'll be publishing the rest of these notes next weekend)  

I Am Not A Number I Am A Free Man

I've been recently ploughing through Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter this, naturally led to me thinking about the subjects of freedom and humanity and what-not. After all it's difficult to read book that contains both the Great Emancipator and hellish devil-creatures that would like nothing more than to destroy the human race and not start to ponder those subjects. This train of thought collided with another one that was sparked off by the fact that yesterday Britain's druids... yes foreign readers we have druids... gathered at Stonehenge, the world's best henge in my opinion, to celebrate the Summer Solstice. The result of this idea tragedy... it was a train crash after all... was one simple thought. Fuck me am I glad I'm an atheist.

Either there is no god or he has terrible aim.

Odd thought I know but please allow me to explain. It's not really crucial for you to allow me this is a blog not a democracy, if anything I operate on a sort of benign feudalism. I was thinking about how I don't hate the druids or more accurately how I don't hate the Druidic faith. As an atheist... and I recently saw Slash play Sweet Child Of Mine, I bring it up because if that didn't make me believe in God nothing will... I feel a fair amount of disdain, disgust and disco fever (couldn't think of a third thing beginning with dis) towards all religions. However all religions are not created equal and I feel no real issues with certain groups. Buddhists for example are all kinds of laid back and groovy. Shintoists gave the world Sumo and for that alone get a bye. Druids are awesome as such I like them a lot.

When you're main religious festival looks like a
Led Zep concert your religion is all right by me

You see druids have a lot to recommend them over other faiths. Firstly they worship nature. I'd like you to go to the nearest window, have a look out of it and then come back. Sorry for the specifics but I don't want to leave my slower readers stuck standing by a window. Now even if you found a view more aggressively urban than Dr Dre you will still have seen some nature. That's pretty much a win for the druids. When you believe in and worship something that you can point to it gives you a good deal of credibility. Secondly the druids are all about being good to the environment and shit and that's like six kinds of awesome. If your beliefs can be directly linked to the concept of 'more bears' then you rock. Finally I really love the way that these mother-fuckers celebrate real shit. People have written fuck-loads about when the Jesosaur was born but the Summer Solstice is a factual event. Anyway whilst I was pondering this I basically decided that while all religions are equal, some are more equal than others. I then vaguely recalled something that Dr Richard Dawkins had once said about not taking a graduated approach to religion.

This man has received death threats for saying that magic is silly

That is why I love being an atheist. You see if you are a catholic, and I've chosen the cathols because I know exactly how there hierachy works (hint: its largely hat based), and the man in the pointiest hat says something it's true. It's called papal infallibility and it's in the bible. It basically means that God has the popes back. So if El Popo decides to declare that the sky is blancmange then God's all like... “Sure is little buddy” … and all caths need to accept the general dessert like nature of the sky. I however am free to say this.

“Whilst I agree with Dr Richard Dawkins on many issues, acknowledge his undoubted expertise in the field of evolutionary biology and of course accept that his role as a leading figure in the atheist community is well deserved I disagree with his view that all religions are equally in need of abolition.”

You see I am not a Dawkinite, nor am I a Darwinist or a follower of the Church of Hitchens. I am an atheist and my opinions are my own, free from interference and tyranny. I am free to assess every single thought a person seeks to articulate on it's own particular merit even, nay especially, if it's a person I largely agree with. The religious cannot say this. If the Church of England, a church founded entirely because someone wanted a divorce wants to say letting gays get married will destroy the sanctity of marriage their followers have to tow the party line. Muslims aren't allowed to go out a read a copy of the Satanic Verses no matter how good it may or may not be and Born Again Christians are forced to cruelly inhabit a universe where christian-rock is seen as a legitimate form of musical expression. I instead get the simple joy of knowing that I am always free to choose.

Free the slaves, murder vampires or both?

That is why being an atheist is frikkin' awesome because freedom of thought must always be the preference of the intellectually bold.

eddie <freedom isn't free>

Crop Circlers

Whilst there are many conspiracy theories floating around very few people have considered the terrifying consequences if they are all true... Read on, gentle reader, read on.

There had been much debate over whether or not silence was a big enough word to describe the kind of noiselessness found away from planetary atmosphere. Some had maintained that the silence off a world, made up as it was off a cacophony tiny sounds, could never approach the stillness of the vacuum that some other, bigger word was needed. Others said that there was no need for another word, that the universe was mostly silent and the planets were far to noisy. Yet more said that the conversation was a pointless debate over terminology and that everyone should shut up and get on with what they were being paid for. However even those voices would after a few bottles of the local poison admit that out in the black there was something suffocating about the complete stillness of it all. It was this silence that flooded the bay as the shuttle drifted in from the star-flecked blackness.

The awaiting crew felt a faint rumble transmit through the floor as the doors slid shut. Shortly after the room was flooded with rich breathable atmosphere accompanied by a near deafening roar. The shuttle was a rhapsody in gleams and shimmers the occasional strip of lights blinding the unwary viewer. Much has been written on the phallic nature of space-ship design and whilst there have been many wonderful arguments put forward regarding the the overall aerodynamics of such designs. Most of these arguments fall apart in a vacuum. The designer of this particular vessel had either ignored the fact that wind resistance wasn't a factor in effective space-ship design or just really liked penises. Either way it was less than a second on the ground before the ground crew started to swarm all over it like so many pubic lice. It took slightly longer for the an opening to appear in the tip of the craft and ejaculate forth it's passenger.

The man who emerged was eight feet of matt black fury. His hat was a master-class in severity that allowed no room for compromise beneath it two dark red eyes the colour of the blood of betrayed children burned forth with the kind of gaze usually reserved for those who have discovered grammatical errors on the internet. There was no nose and almost no mouth, only a near invisible line in carved from the chiselled onyx that passed for flesh on this strange creature. The rest of his body was a shadow a skin-tight black suit clinging to an aggressively muscular frame all enshrouded in one of those long black coats that the bad-guy always wears. Beneath all of this were a pair of fierce stomping boots that appeared to only meet the ground with extreme displeasure. The figure achieved a kind of stillness akin to the silence mentioned two paragraphs previously. It was the kind of stillness that demanded attention far more than any raging tempest a complete lack of movement that screamed murderous intent. Within seconds a smaller scurrying creature had rushed towards the weapon, for there was no better way describe the recent arrival.

“Grand Prefect” The small beige creature gasped as his small white robes flapped around him in everything about this one screamed bureaucrat he was therefore in his own shallow way infinitely more dangerous than the man who's entire being screamed death and rage. “We weren't expecting you so soon.”

“No it appears not” The Grand Prefect replied in the voice of Alan Rickman... thus making him instantly even more menacing. “Indeed it appears that you weren't expecting a single review of your progress” Here he stopped to remove his gloves in one of those completely unnecessary little touches that none the less made him appear even more deadly.

“If you have any luggage you need depositing...” The small pencil-pusher tried to reply before he withered beneath the intense and deadly gaze.

“I have no intention of staying longer than it takes to rectify this catalogue of failures.” He said pulling a small data-pad from within his coat and casually throwing towards his subordinate. “Now that someone competent is here.” With that he swept towards out of the bay pulling the now extremely flustered beige being behind him like a cork bobbing in his wake.

Every corridor of the ship was half walkway half maintenance corridor half walkway. For reasons that no-one has ever been to reasonably explain designers of larger and more expensive space-ships feel that this kind of look gives a ship such an edgy and dark feel that it complete negates all of the horrible disadvantages. Higher maintenance costs were just a small portion of this. The number of crews that the Grand Prefect sent scattering as he made his way through the ship was truly preposterous. It would have angered the Grand Prefect if he had not already been simmering away at approximately 90% of his maximum rage capacity. He did take time to kick a small repair robot directly at one of slower moving crew. As per standard science fiction protocol all of the repair staff where slovenly blue creatures with New York accents and matching New York attitudes. There was lots of establishing shots and small snatches of banter before the Grand Prefect tore past as is standard for this early in a story of this nature.

The internal doors of the central command were twenty-foot high and ominous, they were literally dripping with om, this was another another cost that could've easily be avoided if the whims of the designers had been ignored in the face of practicality. By the time the doors slid open with a satisfactory shu-thunk word had spread of the Grand Prefects arrival and the senior staff had hastily assembled around the large circular table that all futuristic settings must have due to intergalactic architectural regulations. The Grand Prefect reached the table in two long strides and slammed his fists down on the table with such force that the over end of it flew up and knocked one of the tiny bureaucrats flying across the room.

“Gentlemen.” He yelled. “I am the tyranny. I am the rage. I am the terror that lurks deep in your hearts and I am here to say enough is enough.” He grabbed the nearest subordinate and without even a grunt of effort flung them bodily across the room into a control panel. There was a flicker in the air in the middle of the table which flickered and, with a noise that sounded suspiciously like an old cathode ray tube TV turning on, a hologram of the planet earth appeared, taking the audience massively by surprise. Yeah I know. Well let's stay with this and see where it's going. “This tiny orb has managed to rotate around it's home star fifty times since you arrived and still they have yet to surrender to the might of the Transian Empire.”

“Grand P-P-Prefect” One of the bolder underlings stammered. “We've done everything that standard procedures indicate. The humans refuse to even send a reasonable negotiator.” He continued before quailing beneath the powerful death-stare.

“I've read your reports.” The Grand Perfect sneered. “You've been to earth. You've mutilated the carcasses of their primary food beasts, sending a clear message that we are willing to destroy their very way of life. Following that you have left clear understandable messages in the heart of there arable land. When you attend the meetings to discuss their surrender in place of there leaders the send out a bunch of, what was it...” Here the Prefect stopped and pulled out his pad and glowered at as if it was anger sensitive. “...genetically questionable hill-folk. What hypothesis do you put forward to explain all of this.” He asked with a sweeping gesture around the room and began to pace around the table forcing his subordinates to actively flinch as he passed behind them “What grand ideas do you put forward?” He held the pad into his eye-line. “The humans don't understand our messages. Ha. The humans are not aware of, or open to, the possibility of other intelligent life. Preposterous. Food production is not considered vital by most humans and as such our efforts should be consigned to the more developed urban regions of the planet...” He halted behind one of the bureaucrat who tried his best to sink into his chair. “What sort of drivel is this... I should have each and everyone of you taken to an airlock flung into space and use you as target practice. That way you will at least accomplish one useful thing with your worthless lives.” Where some would have shouted the Grand Prefect's voice never wavered from its Alan Rickman monotone.

“The humans have one of our ships. Due to someone's spectacular incompetence in leaving the wreckage at this...” He glanced at the pad “...Roswell place. They are storing it in... Area 51. Every attempt to negotiate with them has been met with derision. The time for soft words has passed gentlemen. I want a full attack to be launched within the cycle. Wipe that smug rock from the face of the universe.”

eddie <i hope you enjoyed it>