Dear Diary (Other Years)
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Welcome to "Dear Diary" devoted to the latest news from Hanna Towers.
31st December 2003
And so ends another year. War in the Gulf, scandal in political circles, murder and mayhem everywhere....some things just never change do they?
With 2003 now in its final death throes and a new year just over the horizon, I suppose one should look back over the last twelve months in an effort to assess its impact. George W. Bush and My Little Tony are now very friendly and are no doubt planning where they can cause more mischief. Saddam Hussein is now in the clink after trying to evade capture by diguising himself as one of the Grateful Dead. I was surprised he didn't turn up on an episode of the Jerry Springer show entitled "I was a brutal dictator, now I've turned to God."
Just time for me to wish the whole planet a very Happy New Year...love and peace Earthlings, you have much to learn.
24th December 2003
So Michael Brown's gone to Spurs...can't say I blame him as it's a great opportunity for him. Thanks for all you've done for The Blades, Michael, and I wish you good luck at Spurs.
And now a quick message to anyone who comes across this site while surfing the world wide web. I wish you and your family a very Merry Christmas and a peaceful, prosperous, New Year.
As always I'm thinking of Daniel and Sean.
Merry Christmas.
22nd December 2003
It's with great sadness that I've learned of the death of Gil Reece, the former Sheffield United winger. Gil died of cancer today after a long battle with the illness. I had the pleasure of watching Gil play many, many, times during the sixties and the early seventies at Bramall Lane. Gil was a marvellous player and he was a stalwart of the team I grew up with. His darting runs down the wing were a regular feature of the Blades at the time.
My sincere condolences to Gil's family and friends.
Gil Reece. Sheffield United and Wales.
18th December 2003
As a Sheffield United supporter I am at the moment embroiled in the controversy surrounding the departure or otherwise of our talented mid-fielder Michael Brown. Michael has worked magic over the last few seasons since United picked him up after he was disgarded by Manchester City's youth programme. His pheonix like career now seems to have interested Glasgow Rangers and it seems likely that he may well transfer north of the border in January when the transfer window opens. As Michael is suspended for the next four matches he may well have played his last game for the Blades. There's been a lot of sniping at Michael with unfortunate words like traitor being uttered. Personally I wish him well and thank him for all he's done for us. Football is a brutal sport and there is only one certainty and that is that there are no old footballers. It's a short career even if your body survives until your mid-thirties when old Father Time beckons you towards a coaching job or a second career in the media. We all know that the job of professional footballer is without doubt the best job in the world but any professional knows that he will have many more years in retirement than actually being paid to play. This means that any sentiment has to be set aside when a young player is making career choices as the opprtunity you turn down today may never be available again. So I would not blame Michael at all if he goes to Rangers and I wish him all the luck in the world.
11th December 2003
Christmas is almost upon us again (it only seems like six months since last Christmas). This apparently is a sure sign that I'm getting old.
With Christmas approaching I am reminded of those silly shows we did in front of the school in the fifth form. Thank god there were no video camcorders around in those days to capture our cringing performances (especially mine). It seems like a lifetime ago since those innocent days and life was so different in a time before Christmas became so commercialised. Now Christmas seems to be a celebration for the benefit of the multi-national companies who tout their wares without any mention of Jesus. Not that I'm a bible thumper, I've never had much time for organised religion but I have even less time for greedy big business who play on our emotions in order to empty our Yule-tide wallets. We are supposed to be celebrating the birth of Christ whose main message to humanity was all about helping our fellow man and sharing our good fortune with poor unfortunates who are less well off than ourselves. So how did this festival corrupt itself into the riot of gluttony, boozing and avaricious materialism we see today? The media, particularly the great god telly whose nightly messages are screamed into our faces, largely drives the melee. If you don't buy little Johnny the latest X Box game the poor little mite will be permanently psychologically scarred for life. Oh and while your at it, don't forget to shovel bucket loads of cholesterol-soaked trash down his throat from your local KF Whatsit or MacDoodah's where you can savour the delights of the Yuletide Special MacBollock Burger or a deep fried Christmas Coronary Clogger.
Christmas is a time for me to have a good rest as most of my customers are off for at least ten days. Yippee! So I tend to slob around and do absolutely nothing, which suits me just fine. Over the hols I will do my best to avoid the usual Yuletide crap dished up on the telly, as the bosses at the various TV stations seem totally obsessed with all this reality nonsense. What will it be this year? "When Santa Attacks" or "Britain's Biggest Twat" or maybe "Sex In Santa's Grotto…Uncut."
Old fogies like me can remember when dear old Auntie Beeb and ITV locked horns in a titanic battle for Christmas ratings. Morecambe and Wise were my favourite. In those days to get on the telly you had to have something called talent. I know this is now an obsolete idea because the qualification for being placed in front of the camera seems to be the ability to have big tits and shout, "Look at me everyone." The endless stream of talentless cretins, whose nightly blatherings haunt every TV schedule, makes me look longingly over my shoulder into the past when masters of their craft beguiled the British public and were genuinely loved by all those of my age and above. Eric and Ernie we miss you.
Me? I'm with Scrooge. "Christmas…bah…humbug."
25th November 2003
The fortieth anniversary of the assassination of poor President Kennedy has sparked the usual controversy. Endless documentaries expound conspiracy theories with everyone having their own take on the events. My own view is simple..... treat the case as if it were an ordinary murder. If the shooting had happened to an anonymous member of the public the Police investigation would go something like this:
1. Interview all known associates, friends, enemies of the victim. Someone known to the victim commits most murders.
2. Who had a motive? Look closely at beneficiaries and enemies with something to gain from the death or a grudge against the deceased.
3. Method, motive, opportunity. How was it done, why was it done, who had the means and the opportunity?
4. Look closely at the victim's background and past. Have they trodden on anyone's toes? If so, are those people likely to become violent in order to settle an old score?
If you apply these principals the most likely candidates to have been the instigators of the plot would be elements within the Mafia.
JFK and his brother Bobby had stirred up quite a hornet's nest since gaining power in 1960. They had conducted a witch-hunt against organized crime, which had publicly humiliated several Mafia bosses. These are not the kind of fellows who would go away quietly and sulk. They have a code of revenge and my view is that this code reached its predictable conclusion in Dealey Plaza on the 22nd November 1963.
Who did the deed? To answer this, ask yourself this question:
If you were contracted to carry out the job how would you do it? With one gunman shooting from an upstairs window in a building where there was a good chance of being disturbed at the wrong moment. No, I wouldn't either.
What you would do is have three shooters. Each shooter would have at least one assistant to help the him escape and you would place your men in a triangle to form a killing zone. This is a classic ambush tactic and would account for the fact that the shooter in the Depositary Building ignored the easier shot as the President's car came towards him and waited until the car had gone right by him and was moving away before he opened fire. The reason he did this is simple, it allowed the car to get to the killing zone where the three shooters' lines of fire converged.
What about Lee Harvey Oswald, who was he and how was he involved? I doubt we'll know until the American government releases the documents relevant to him.
Did he shoot the President? Probably not. Most assassins who fall into the "Lone Nutter" category can't wait to tell the whole world that they did it because they crave attention and notoriety. Oswald always denied shooting Officer Tippet and JFK. This does not fit with the "Lone Nutter" profile. Was he involved in some way? Almost certainly, although I would not care to speculate on which side of the law he was on. Oswald's past was certainly interesting. He had crammed quite a lot into his twenty-four year life. He certainly was not the lonely nobody the Warren report painted him as. He was an ex-marine and had defected to the Soviet Union three years before the shooting only to return to the US in 1962. Strangely he wasn't arrested for treason or for that matter even questioned. How odd? Were the security services so incompetant that they missed him or were they looking the other way as they'd been ordered. Seems strange doesn't it that the same man turns up the following year and bumps off the President.....allegedly.
The only thing that we know for sure is that President Kennedy died on 22nd November 1963 and the world was a far worse place after his passing. Vietnam, Nixon, race riots all followed as a direct result of his death. I mourn his passing, as I believe he was a good man and our world needs good men particularly in an office as important as the President Of The United States of America. The events in Dealey Plaza have now passed into history and I doubt that we will ever find out the whole truth, but we can learn from these events and make sure that those lessons are not ignored. In all the confusion and mythology that surrounds JFK we should not lose sight of the fact that he was a human being like you and me. I ask you to think for a moment about JFK, the man, and say a prayer to whichever god you worship.
God bless.
22nd November 2003
Well done to the England Rugger bloody nice blokes for beating the Aussies in their own back yard. We've got a boring team have we Bruce? Well I just can't help but rub it in. It was a great game though....a real nail-biter right to the end when Wilko's left boot did the business for England. The trophy was presented by a very grumpy John Howard, the Australian Prime Minister. He looked totally fed up....oh dear.
Even Prince Harry got in on the act as he met the boys as they came off the field of triumph. Once again, well done chaps and you're all bloody nice blokes!
21st November 2003
Poor old Scotland, they didn't deserve 6-0. I'm afraid they never really got going. Their tactic of defending deep and leaving the mid-field as a Scot-free zone predictably backfired. Allowing a technically gifted team like Holland all that space to play in was, alas, a mistake. Sorry too to Wales who were somewhat dazzled in the headlights. Bad luck chaps.
On a brighter note, England can look forward to Portugal next year. I can't wait as we all love footie here at Hanna Towers, particularly tournaments like Euro whatever and the World Cup, which was marvellous to watch last year.
Hopefully our Rugger boys will turn over the Aussies at the weekend. Never been a Rugby fan myself but I hear they're all bloody nice blokes. The country seems to be working up a sudden passion for the game...... so come on England! Swing low sweet chariot......
16th November 2003
I have just finished watching England v Denmark and here's my in depth match report........ Oh Bugger!
16th November 2003
I've just mentally filed a story from the newspapers in the " Cheeky Bugger" compartment of my brain. The story concerns the impending visit of the American President Mr. George W. Bush. Apparently, "My Little Tony" (Blair) has authorised Mr. Bush's private army to carry firearms whilst on duty in dear Old Blighty and to use deadly force as and when they decide it's necessary......."Bloody cheek!"
Who authorised Tony Blair to over-ride great chunks of our legal constitution then? Answer ...No-one.
This is The United Kingdom not The United States. Here we don't allow anyone over twenty-one to carry an M16 to the shops with them. Here we are civilised and don't permit every citizen to own a private arsenal.
If George W. wishes to visit our shores then he should bloody well adhere to our laws. This isn't Texas....it's Britain, and here we don't permit Johnny Foreigner to open fire anytime the whim takes his fancy at whomever he likes. If you don't like it, Mr. Bush, then stay away.
Of course Mr. Bush has quite a habit of opening fire at the population of foreign countries but I thought he was supposed to be our ally. Perhaps he has some news for Tony regarding the missing weapons of mass destruction. Maybe the CIA have found a suspicious test tube in Baghdad. Perhaps Tony needs to see more pictures of American military gadgets to whet his appetite for some future joint venture with George W.
Personally I have a message for Mr. Bush...."Sod off back to Washington and take your trigger- happy thugs with you!"
So there.
If you agree with my sentiments you may like my news about the English language page. Please click here.
15th November 2003
Many congrats to the plucky Scots who today have sent the cocky Dutch boys packing back to Amsterdam. I watched the match and I became an honorary Scot for ninety minutes cheering on the brave Jocks. It wasn't a lucky win either! The chaps from north of the border thoroughly deserved their moment of glory. Lets see what happens tomorrow when Mr. Beckham and his team meet the Danish hoards. Mind you, it's only a friendly now that Alan Smith has gone back to Leeds United.
As a Sheffield United fan, you can imagine my glee as I savour the discomfort of our traditional enemy from just up the M1.
Leeds..Leeds...Leeds seem to be in a terminal crisis at the moment as the speed of the revolving door to the Elland Road manager's office goes into warp drive. What are the Board doing? How many more managers will get the blame for the mess left by previous Directors/Chairman? Beats me.
I feel very sorry for Peter Reid. He doesn't deserve what he's had to put up with. Don't worry Peter.......I hear there may be a vacancy coming up in Holland.
14th November 2003
There's a saying in Britain that goes "You can tell when it's Bonfire Night because there are Christmas adverts on the telly."
To old Scrooges like me, the thought of Christmas approaching makes me shudder. The TV brainwashing has already started and people are being conned by the corporate conspiracy that you are an awful person unless you re-mortgage your house in order to squander you hard-earned cash by delivering it to the wealthy, mainly American and Japanese mega-businesses.
At no point will the birth of Jesus be mentioned or, for that matter, the plight of the two thirds of the world's citizens who live in poverty. No, none of that. Just go out and buy lots of stuff you don't need and send it to your friends and family and in the process line the pockets of the mega-rich industrialists. All in the name of our saviour, Jesus, who apparently told us to share our wealth with those less fortunate than ourselves.
So how did this happen? Simple....the world is brainwashed by the telly, and who controls the telly? Yes you've guessed it.....Big Business. Nuff said.
Me? I'm with Scrooge..... "Christmas, Humbug!"
27th October 2003
I've been particularly annoyed recently by the constant interuptions to the peace and tranquillity of Hanna Towers. The disturbance has been caused by the constant noise of fireworks being let off around the place. This incessant din is driving me and my mother's dog, D'arcy (who is temporarily staying with me while Mumsy's on her hols) completely nuts. As my eardrums burst and plaster fell from the ceiling I thought the Luftwaffe had regrouped to carry out another blitzkrieg of Sheffield. It's not just the traditional bangers anymore but items that seem to have been left-over from the Gulf war. Great booming explosions occur every night and it's not just a week or two around Bonfire Night...oh no, the cocophony starts on January 1st and ends around New Year's Eve. The pyromaniac hoards seem to have unlimited supplies of their evil explosives and appear to have decided that their nightly displays should centre around my abode. Fireworks? Personally I'd ban the lot of them, either that or find the culprit and shove the biggest lit firework right up his detonator.
22nd October 2003
Over the last couple of weeks I've been enjoying a BBC programme titled "Grumpy Old Men."
I must say that I greet this tribute to grumpy old men with a great deal of delight as my own grumpiness has now gained official recognition. As a grumpy old man myself it is a great comfort to me that I am not alone and indeed I am in distinguished company. I am so relieved that I'm not the only person who finds the world an increasingly irritating place populated by people whose role in life is exclusively dedicated to annoying me. What with silly Call Centres that seem to be staffed by the most unhelpful, stroppy ignoramuses the Job Centre could find and those nauseating so called celebrities (none of whom I've heard of) constantly shouting "Look at me everybody," from my TV set. I sometimes feel that the world is homing in on me. I am, however, more content in my grumpiness knowing that I am not alone.
In my experience there are some definate signs that you are becoming a grumpy old man.
For Ten Signs That You've Become A Grumpy Old Man. Click Here
Are you a grumpy old man?
Test your grumpiness by clicking here.
Can't cope with being grumpy?
Ten Hints For Grumpy Old Men. Click Here
19th October 2003
I'm pleased that England have qualified for finals of Euro 2004 despite the efforts of the sneaky Turkish groundsman who had spent hours watering the penalty spot. Mr. Beckham's penalty has only just returned to earth having spent the last week being tracked by NASA as it orbited the planet. Our sterling British chaps managed a decisive 0-0 draw ensuring our participation in Portugal, assuming of course that the mindless minority of hooligans who constantly blight England's matches don't ruin it for us. Personally I would round up these morons and throw them in the Tower of London.
I heard that David Beckham was overheard talking to Sven Goran Eriksson before the match. David told Sven that he was going for four at the back, four in the middle and two up front. This wasn't the England formation.... it was the position of David's hairgrips.
7th October 2003
Hello again dear reader. Firstly, I must apologise for the gap since my last writings. I will not use the usual excuse and whinge on about how busy I've been and how I don't get a minute to myself. No such nonsense. The reason for the lull in keyboard activity is simple....I can't be arsed!
Yes that's the honest truth. These days it seems to me that my fellow citizens cannot bring themselves to admit the truth and hide behind cliches which imply that they are so busy. This of course is the modern way, the obsession with self-image and the constant need to appear important. I don't have such problems for I know that I'm totally and utterly umimportant and irrellevent. Personally I take great solice from this as I know I cannot do any real damage because I'm too unimportant for that. It's a great comfort to me that my role in life is merely to observe others making a hash of things. I can stand back safe in the knowledge that no-one will ever ask my opinion about anything thus saving me the trouble of having to have an opinion, valid or otherwise. This leaves me with loads of time to enjoy myself as other fools argue the toss about world affairs, the state of the nation and so on. Like their arguing will ever make any difference.
I love to watch politcal programmes on telly where they have carried out a phone poll to gauge public opinion. They always have a small percentage of "Don't knows", which means that people must have rung up simply to say that they "Don't know". I wish the TV pollsters had a category for "I don't give a shit" because I would be the chief canvasser for this response. I feel I should form an official "Couldn't Give A Shit Party" in time for the next election. I realise that we would never gain power because most of my supporters would not be bothered enough to vote. However I could fiddle the election by asserting that the people who didn't turn out to vote should be registered as a vote for me and the Can't Be Arsed Alliance. I would, therefore, win by default.
8th August 2003
I was in the Gift shop at Hanna Towers recently, unloading the latest delivery of items for the shelves, when I chanced to observe an article on the front page of The Times. The headline informed me that over in the United States, Arnold Schwarzenegger intends to run for the office of Governor of California. Bravo I say, as Arnie couldn't possibly make a bigger hash of things than the politicians already in office.
Perhaps someone from a similar background could oust the incumbent President too. I think Harrison Ford is the man for the job as he already has Presidential experience during the making of "Air Force One." He could have Bruce Willis as Vice President and I think the two of them would make a formidable pairing when dealing with the world's problems. Bruce's presence would negate the need for so many Secret Service agents in order to protect the President, thus saving the American taxpayer a substantial sum of money.
I think Harrison Ford would be able to form a good, reasoned argument when dealing with other world leaders and negotiate his way to a solution of any problem, failing this Bruce could spray the ceiling with machine gun fire if talks reached a sticking point. The celebrity in political office trend could be effective over here in dear old Blighty, although I think our efforts may be a little down market compared to the Americans. Maybe Dot Cotton could win over the pensioner vote or Doctor Who could entice the electorate with his sonic screwdriver. Who knows? It can't be any worse than Tony and his friends.
I must admit to feeling a certain amount of glee at the sight of so many spin-doctors squirming uncomfortably as one arrogant blunder after another comes to light during the lead up to the Dr. Kelly inquiry. Having hounded the poor man to an early grave, the spin-doctors are now compounding the problem with "foot in the mouth" off the record asides to journalists. I didn't know you could make an off the record comment to a journalist, particularly as it was such a damming tit-bit of information. Perhaps Dot Cotton may not be so bad after all.
4th August 2003
At last the summer's here in dear old Blighty. When I say summer I mean the two days in Britain when its not actually raining. For those who have never been to our fair isles I will try to describe our climate as best I can. Most of the time the weather looks like a backdrop from a Jack The Ripper film. It's usually raining except for the days when it's foggy or snowing.
Unfortunately as soon as we have some nice weather, whinging kill-joys occupy every public place moaning about how hot it is. Usually they are little old ladies who for some reason insist on wearing three coats even though the sun is beating down on them. Personally I have an almost uncontrollable urge to pour a bucket of cold water over my fellow citizens who insist on bemoaning the heat.
Even worse are the idiots who go abroad to places like Spain. They seem quite surprised that in July and August it's quite hot. What did they expect......downhill skiing or perhaps a quick blast down the Coast del Sol's bobsleigh run. I feel sorry for the poor Spanish who have to endure these plebians constantly moaning "Oh it's too hot." In Spain the hot summers are hardly a state secret, so why do these people go there if they don't like the sun? Beats me.
Personally I love the nice weather as I can relax in the sun as it beats down on Hanna Towers and I'm safe in the knowledge that the rain will soon be here....so enjoy the sunshine while you can.
July 28th 2003
I've been terribly upset lately because some beastly chaps from the United States, who I understand are called spammers, have targeted my e-mail. My poor inbox has been creaking under the weight of these unexpected deliveries, most of which appear to be from a chap named Hernandez.
I feel sorry for poor Mr. Hernandez having to waste his time sending me details of his latest generous offers, which alas, I cannot take advantage of. I only wish I had a septic tank that required emptying and if I had I would certainly get Mr. Hernandez to do the job for me, after I had ducked his head repeatedly in the deep end of course. That would be a spiffing wheeze.
I am worried just how much information my Microsoft operating system divulges to the general public. Mr. Hernandez seems to feel that I need some enhancement in the …..shall we say "wedding tackle" department. I didn't know Windows Millenium Edition passed on that kind of information to the general public or possibly my computer has been hacked in some way…thus revealing my shortcomings to Mr. Hernandez.
Mr. Hernandez is also a part-time pharmacist and he appears to specialise in the supply of a tablet called Viagra. He is very enthusiastic when extolling the virtues of his product, although I find his promises of discreet delivery somewhat worrying, as I would not like a large truck with the word Viagra, painted in three-foot high letters down the side, parked on the driveway at Hanna Towers, whilst Mr. Hernandez delivers my order.
Mr. Hernandez must be a very resilient sort of chap. Despite the fact that I never reply to any of his e-mails he never the less keeps sending me information on his latest bargains. He must be a sterling fellow of some resolve to stick so doggedly to his task despite the disappointing results.
Perhaps Mr. Hernandez is very lonely and doesn't have many friends. It must be difficult for him to get out as he spends so much time in front of his computer and on his Viagra deliveries. I hope he finds someone who will write back to him very soon as I fear I might become terribly rude and tell Mr. Hernandez to stop writing to me as I'm afraid I do not have any need for his products. Poor chap, I hope he finds a friend soon.
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Dear Diary (Other Years)
