Some things are news. Some things urnae. This isnae.

For all my Scottish friends (and anyone else who needs a tasty treat…) (Photo credit: *Psycho Delia*)

I hate it when I haven’t had (what I consider to be) an interesting thought in about a week. It tempts me into blogging about blogging, which is a banned topic, as far as I am concerned. So I haven’t posted anything.

If only the news stations were as considerate to their viewers. Some things are news and some things aren’t. But I suppose it’s subjective. But the news shows never shut up shop and say, “We’ll be back when there’s news”. They can always think of something. And if they can’t think of something, they dust off some expert from some university to come and hypothesize about things that would happen or not, were there any news.

For one thing, sport isn’t news. It’s sport. Results of TV competitive shows are not news. Ageing celebrities (okay, celebrity) getting a tattoo isn’t news.

But then, we don’t really want news, do we? Accidents, deaths, scandal, corruption, politicians in any shape or form, extreme weather events, wars….

We don’t want these events – but we want to know about them when they happen. And we want to know about them after they happen – but the media circus moves on to the next big thing, leaving charities to mop up the aftermath.

I do like the BBC “Newswatch” news review with Samira Ahmed, when people get to moan about the quirks and foibles of the news. People made some very valid points about the daftness of putting anchor people on location in the rain, and reporters at places when it is freezing and there is nothing to see, when there are perfectly good studios to use and they could put a picture behind them and it would look the same, only drier. Unnecessary outside broadcasts always make me nervous; there is so much more potential for technical hitches.

Anyway, so, if WeeScoops was a news station, here is the not-newsworthy news from my week:

Dum de dumm dumm dum de dumm dum dum de dumm dumm DUM!

We went to see a Pantomime. (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs at the Eastwood Theatre). It was great. (“Oh No it wasn’t”). Oh yes it was. Genius. (And I didn’t fall over and stave my hand this year. Bonus.)

Dum de dumm dumm dum de dumm dum dum de dumm dumm DUM!

I watched a lot of Masterchef. (“That’s an intelligent plate.” Oh good, an example of a transferred epithet!I’ll use that again.)

Dum de dumm dumm dum de dumm dum dum de dumm dumm DUM!

I took Daughter1 and Daughter2 to a party at “Rainforest Adventure” (but everyone knows it’ll always be “Animal Magic”.)

Dum de dumm dumm dum de dumm dum dum de dumm dumm DUM!

We went to the school Christmas Fair. (Where I had a Tunnock’s Caramel Wafer, which marked the end of No-Vember.)

Dum de dumm dumm dum de dumm dum dum de dumm dumm DUM!

We had a party for a pair of (extended) family birthdays. (Where we played “Articulate your Life” which had the most inarticulate instructions ever penned in the English Language. Yay, an example of irony!)

Dum de dumm dumm dum de dumm dum dum de dumm dumm DUM!

Then Sunday and Monday were singularly unproductive, apart from doing 100 press ups, 100 sit ups, 100 jump squats and some planking.

This is Sanstorm, reporting for WeeScoops.

Back to you in the studio.

And there ain’t no sport on this channel.

*white noise*

Given the amount of bad news in the world, I am thankful that my week was unremarkable.

Independence Day thoughts from a Scot with a big “Undecided” post-it note on her head: the beginning of a possible mini-series on the road to the referendum.

 Happy Independence Day USA!

As for the “land of the free and the home of the brave”, if you take our two media icons – “Braveheart” and “Brave” – you might be talking about us. Except there’s a debate about how free we are, in that we are not independent from the rest of the UK.

I think, at the outset I am probably not in favour of an Independent Scotland. There’s hardly anyone here.

*sounds of empty streets, empty buses, sheep baa-ing*

Perhaps that’s unfair. I live in a village – but when I ever go anywhere outside of Scotland – there do seem to be a lot of people around.

Given that our population is addicted to obesity, vacuous entertainment, fatty food and government freebies, I can’t imagine us being independent and not drowning in a vat of debt and chip fat.

So saying, I am open to persuasion – gentle, though. Politics wearies me. Who knows, maybe there are a lot of go-getting high-flying types who can underpin the government with talent and integrity in the long run…?

So, at the moment I am in the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” camp.

But I am watching this space.

Jubilee Reflections

A weekend of cultural phenomena is over. Time for a cup of tea.

Thousands of Union Jacks being fluttered in front of the Palace by hundreds of thousands of people. It made me think about what we are told about some other countries – that they HAVE to act as if they are fans of the authorities or they are in fear of their lives or their freedom. It is great to know that Republicans were free and welcome to stand with their placards stating their objections to the monarchy, knowing they had every right and freedom to do so. What a great country/kingdom!

I am sure that group mentality had a lot to do with the popularity of the event – but I do find it amazing that the Queen managed to draw the crowds.

There were some horrible days in the past, with most of her children’s marriages going horribly wrong, then all the bad feeling and accusations surrounding the death of Diana.

But Elizabeth, Queen of Scots/II pulled it back. What a great turn out – and not a sniff of coercion. A public ballot for tickets – and then hundreds of thousands turning out just for a glimpse.

I think it is to do with the reality of it. When I watch Royal processions and formal events I always draw a parallel with Disney and the palaces and processions that are put on for the crowds -with Mickey at the centre. But none of it is real.

The royal show is real. It is flesh and blood and history. The whole river taken over for the flotilla. The city standing still for the processions and the concert. Flags and people lining the streets looking out for the Queenie wave. People sleeping out so they have the best spot to see things.

For some people it is important to be there, to live the history being made.

Such a contrast to the London of almost a year ago with rioters taking hold of the streets and a spirit of lawlessness – suddenly turned into this respect for duty and service that the Queen embodies for many.

So, what do I think of it all?

The BBC do a good job in terms of capturing the key images, but their commentary varies in quality. The event organisers need a raise. Comedians are not funny.

The Scottish reaction has been interesting. I think it is kind of odd that Alex Salmond is pro-queen – but with her Balmoral links, the Royal Mile and all that – maybe the royal thing is an asset for a hypothetical Independent Scotland. It’s the union of parliaments, not the union of crowns under scrutiny these days. Not sure how the monarchy thing would pan out if we were independent.

However, by being constant, the Queen has managed to leave the past in the past and get on with the present. Who’d have thought that Camilla could take a place on the balcony?

I hope the Queen gets to go and have some relaxed banter with the Duke of Edinburgh, and a cup of tea.

I’ll never see another Diamond Jubilee (unless the Queen dies very soon, Charles abdicates immediately, William reigns till 2072 and I live to be 100. Well, 99 and a half).

And the reign certainly hasn’t dampened their spirits!…

I watched a lot of the flotilla today for the Queen’s Jubilee. I did sleep for a lot of it as well, but I woke up in time to see everyone getting drenched.

The event itself was great, but the BBC coverage was uncharacteristically high-cringe. Very repetitive commentary: “and the rain certainly hasn’t dampened their spirits”; “and the Queen is still standing. She has not sat down.”

Twitter was more entertaining with a more realistic view such as:

(@Michael Dennis) “Every time I turn on to BBC1 Sophie Raworth talks about “amazing scenes” and we then cut to an oily fishing boat in the rain.”

So, the high points for me: Kate’s outfit – great choice in vibrant red. Beautiful. I also really liked the Gloriana flagship. It had nine banks of oars and looked the business. I want one. Especially if it came equipped with Olympic medal winners and ex-servicemen. But I haven’t got a river. Still, it’s my fortieth in 2013, so I’ll put it on my “maybe” list… And the choir giving it laldy in the pouring rain: “Rule Britannia!”

Low points – Sorry to say that the BBC were struggling for things to say. Also the reveling in rain. It would have been miserable. Why pretend?

Nice to see Anneka Rice again though. I’d have liked a slot on the art bridge – that was a great idea.

I think the Queen would have liked the flotilla . A good show – and mid afternoon which has got to be a plus. She can go home for a cup of tea and a peaceful evening before facing tomorrow.

But we could have used a Dimbleby for the commentary.

I was going to write a poem, but then I came across one by Carol Ann Duffy via twitter – so please click the link and enjoy a good poem about the Thames.

Mrs Mearnsy Considers a Career as a Reality TV Star

Mrs Mearnsy is sitting on the couch, stroking her iPad and surfing facebook. She is momentarily drawn to an article that has been shared about a reality TV show “Made in Mearns”. She reads the article and becomes animated, shuffling herself to a more alert and upright posture. She looks into middle distance and begins to speak. To you:

Well, I must say, that’s a bit of a thought. I always thought I’d be an interesting study for TV. I could show the world a thing or two about housewifery and social climbing. Although this ad seems to be looking for “party animals”.

I think they are sniffing around the wrong suburb for party animals. That’s the demographic that simply ARE NOT HERE. There are children batched up and educated; single people who want a civilized and quiet life;  parents of the aforementioned children and there are pensioners in their droves. The party animals have all moved away – to places with bars, cafes and transport links. And why wouldn’t they? I thought everyone knew the Mearns was a social blackspot for anyone between the ages of twelve and thirty-five.

So, what sort of themes would arise in a reality show based in the Mearns? A debate about the which is the right side and which is the wrong side of the Ayr Road? The tell-tale area codes of the nouveau riche? Boundary jumping for catchments? The futility of private education in an educational utopia?…

But party animals? If they were to follow the party-goers of Mearns, would they not just be tailing a bunch of taxis into town? Or… horrors… am I missing a party scene? Right here?

Mrs Mearnsy is suddenly puce. Her worldview is crumbling. Maybe this sleepy suburb is just a facade, masking a hotbed of jamborees, to which she has suddenly discovered, she has not been invited. 

Well, there’s only one thing for it. I have to make it onto the show. I’ll start to invite round all those people I have meant to invite round.  I can serve up prosecco and vol-au-vents as well as the next person.

Mrs Mearnsy begins to google frantically looking for more information on the application process for the show. She suddenly stops.She sighs, closes her eyes and slumps back with a beatific smile on her face. It was all a hoax. Her career as a TV star will have to wait. 

From the Eye of the Storm: Hurricane Bawbag

It’s been an odd day out here.

There was a red alert about the weather, and Scotland went into lockdown. Schools shut as police advised people to “avoid roads”.

So, I have stayed home with the children, cranked up the central heating and settled in for a day of following weather reports, doing a bit of paperwork, wrapping presents and eating high calorie snacks.

Husband, being superhuman, of course went to “work”. He’s back now though 😀

It’s always windy here. Hence the windfarm… So the wind sounds the same as usual – just a whole lot more constant.

Our fence is still up, which is pretty impressive.

I think the most likely structural damage will be the church roof. It blows off once a decade or so, and the last time was December 1998 when it ripped a bit on Boxing Day. So, I am hoping we can avoid “The Church Roof Fund#3”. The building opened in the late 1970s and is fundamentally flawed in design. And perched overhanging a cliff. What were they thinking 🙄

And good to see the Caledonian Antisyzygy in play as the nation named its Hurricane. Very crude. I wonder if the BBC will acknowledge that that is its name.

To my international readers – please don’t ask 😉

Striking Opinion Vacuum

My union have called on me to strike tomorrow over proposed changes to pensions.

I usually have an opinion about everything. The issue of pension changes loses me within seconds. I have found that everyone I spoke to had compelling arguments. Which was fine until I heard the compelling arguments of someone else who opposed their views. When you end up with no strong feeling either way, why would one strike, if the point of a strike is to make a point?

Perhaps my main problem is my poor numeracy. Talk of percentages and interest and years and losing money don’t really mean anything in my head in real terms. The phrase “lump sum” I think of as a great example of assonance, and little else.

I like to think I know how many beans make five. Five? And it turns out the whole world actually didn’t know how many beans made five. They lent all the beans to people who had no concept of the value of a bean, or that fact that beans would have to be paid back at some point in the future. And then, hey, there were no beans after all, let alone five, and all the beans people thought they had shrank and were lost.

And now there just aren’t five beans any more.

Which is why it makes sense to me that pensions should be … cut? adjusted? Based on the reality we are in, rather than the reality we used to think we were in (but weren’t)? As someone who has taken three maternity leaves in the last decade I will be hit by the cuts. But then, I figure, I didn’t go into work for three out of ten years. Why should someone who worked every day not get credit for that? Why should my stints in front of “Murder She Wrote” be subsidised forty years later by everyone else?

If the terms and conditions become so bad, I think I’d rather resign and do something else. If it wasn’t worth my while going in to work, I wouldn’t go into work. I would tutor, teach violin, clean, work in a cafe, paint, write….be skint….  The problem comes if all you want to do is your public sector job, but you feel that you are hard done by if you keep your public sector job and the terms and conditions that go with it. But would things be any better in the private sector? Probably not.

Back to the beans. They just aren’t there.

So, should I go into a rant about who put how many beans where?

I remember back in the pre-recession days, watching those “consolidate-your-loans-into-one-manageable-monthly-payment” ads and thinking how completely immoral they were. Conning people into huge pay-back schemes, just to give them a little breathing space. The world was borrowing mad.  I used to wonder how it all balanced out. And it didn’t. Borrow, borrow, borrow – hey, huge deficit!

People feel threatened with the pension changes. They feel betrayed. They feel as if the goalposts have been moved. But I think they have moved. And we have to deal with that.

All sort of rogue debt black-holes are getting bailed out. Banks, countries… why not the public sector? Then again, why not the private sector, whose pensions have fallen away also?

That’s enough from me for now.

*dons helmet, ducks into trench, awaits…whatever*

Sick Society? Keep Taking the Tablets!

So, the Israelites were set free from their slavery and had to set about making a society. They did a bit of moaning –  wearing rose-tinted glasses, remembering the times of routine and plenty before the days of Moses. They went through some trial-and-error with God: balancing their own common sense with God’s arbitrary suggestions.

Things seemed to go better when they did it the way God had suggested in the first place. Fewer maggots in the breakfast.

It wasn’t maggots in my breakfast this week – but when I watched the news this week about the riots in England it was sickening. Ignorant, glaikit, opportunistic neds. Selfish, lawless, destructive thoughtlessness. English society in meltdown.

So the news discussion shows are analysing away as to “Why?” these riots should occur. And there are lots of reasons. But with my current saturation in Exodus, it is my only frame of reference right now and I find myself comparing the rabble of the Israelites with the thugs involved in the riots.

Moses, after a lot of to-ing and fro-ing and talking with God up the mountain, came down with a BRILLIANT plan. Inscribed by the finger of God on tablets of stone were some commandments. (The political correctness within me wants to say they were ‘suggestions’ but, anyway…)

Among other laws, there were these social decencies, put on tablets of stone:

Honour your father and your mother

You shall not murder

You shall not steal

You shall not covet your neighbour’s house. You shall not covet your neighbour’s wife, or his man-servant or his maid-servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbour.

Pretty basic, you’d think. But this week saw lawlessness.

We don’t like to “tell people what to do”.  But we should. We should get these back onto tablets of stone and consider them absolute.

That’s all I have to say about Exodus. 😀

Much as I am “for” the ten commandments,  I leave my musings on the whole Exodus story with a trailer for the hypothetical sequel (that I am not doing):

 “For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.”

John 1 vs 17

Going into the Red

So I made a pillar of fire (red crepe paper and some orange plastic) and a pillar of cloud (eh… cotton-wool balls); sang “How did Moses Cross the Red Sea”; the waves parted and so here we are, pilgrimming through this barren land…. Phew!

And it is at this point I get to leave the Exodus  – as the Israelites head off into the sunset desert, towards the Promised Land. (So I hope that tomorrow’s post will be my LAST on Exodus

🙄

thanks for bearing with me!)

I head back to the 21st Century West. As I get out of my time machine… everything seems strangely familiar.

The Egyptian economy had been propped up artificially for over 400 years. By creating a slave underclass out of generations of Israelite immigrants, the Egyptians had managed to build monuments, towns and cities based on a kind of temporary illusion of wealth.

Then the commodity of slaves left.

And in the West, we also built our economies on a dream – spending non-existent money on a repeated basis: an economy based on an illusion of wealth.

Then the commodity of unlimited credit ‘left’.

And then there came, or is coming, a day of reckoning. One day, someone counts up how many beans make five and realises that we haven’t got any.

After the Exodus, there must have been “cuts” in Egypt, a change in leadership and a new policy for industry. I wonder how it worked out. I know a bit about Egypt and its civilisation, gods and history – but I don’t know how or why it came to an end. But it did, eventually- despite being such an advanced and wealthy empire.

The Red Sea was held apart artificially for a time. Then the water returned to its true level.

There is the way things seem and the way things are. And there is the way things should be.

It’s helpful to know which is which.

What Goes Up Must Come Down and Surely Has a Point…?

So, that’s the end of the shuttle thing. Phew.

Maybe it would be different if I lives in the States, but from my perspective, my lasting images of the shuttle programme are the shuttle disasters when people were blown to smithereens for science.

I don’t think it was worth it.

All very well for JFK to come up with a national aim to inspire people, but when they got to the moon… it was a cold and lonely place, except for when it was a hot and lonely place.

We’ve littered space with debris, lost a good few probes on the way to Mars and spent a fortune.

And what for?

Well, I love the images sent back by Cassini – for example: NASA – Saturn Northern Storm in Infrared and Visible Light.
But that can’t be it. And we got the movie Apollo 13, which I enjoyed.

So I feel I am missing “the point” of space travel.

I keep thinking of Icarus and a very obscure Garth Hewitt song:

They’re flying tonight, fresh from outer space

There’s saliva on their lips, they’ve got madness on their face

The search it made them crazy, it finally drove them wild

Their eyes gleam with the fury, their sanity defiled:

They tried to touch the sun

They sought the Holy Grail

Icarus could have told them

Waxen wings will fail, they’ll always fail.

The Space Programme may well be hailed as a success, but I can’t see past the two disasters. But then I am risk averse. I assume those that went into the shuttles thought it would be worth it, even if it did end in disaster.

What have we gained, practically, from space exploration? I assume we have, and that I am just ignorant of the benefits.

If you know, let me know. Thanks.