the literature goes to great lengths to emphasise the mechanical perfection of many of the  artefacts of ancient Egypt. I know, ‘cos as a crank I’ve had to plough through, read, view, enjoy, and suffer a helluva lot of it.

Here, have a nice snap—

Oops CU.png

—downlifted from u-toobe. (To go there, CLICK HERE )


buy now and you get this one free~!

Oops 3.png

Okaaaaaayyyy … if it’s the same beast I have to conclude that whatever it was in the first shot foreground was casually shoved out of view for the second, or telephotos versus wide-angles were legedermainerised. But that’s not my point—

—my point is that if those monsters are really created from solid granite (oops, redundancy there: granite is pretty dam’ solid anyway) and made initially technically perfect (you know … flat, square, level, etc?) then how come the rather idiosyncratic deformations?

TO NOT DIGRESS Screen Shot 2016-12-31 at 12.50.43.png

Percy Harrison Fawcett was lost and died in the jungles of South America. So? So having not found the book in decades I came across a copy (no problem these days with Amazon, boom boom!) in Aberdeen. You know, usual romantic tale of poking about amongst the dusty tomes etc etc when suddenly: BINGO—

“Mr Argus! Sir!”

Oh no. It’s Little Ollivia … … now I’m for it …

“Yes, Little Ollivia, darling child?”

“Sir — you’re raving again …”

Oops. Course correction needed. Left-hand down a bit, steady as she goes …

—I found it.

Still have it: Exploration Fawcett. Like this only different—


my own copy is a decrepit hardback


So (from memory) in it ol’ Percy’s scribe mentions two intriguing things—

(a) legends of ancient cities lit by cold lights, and

(b) chemical temporary softenings of hard stone.


So … doesn’t the ‘damage’ to the mechanically perfect stonery of that box above look just a wee bit like a ‘temporarily softened box’ deformation?

Or do we really think it was carved that way, by master craftsmen, for whatever purpose?

But if some manner of impact (earthquake? Comet? Men with rocks?) deformation was involved … well, you figure it out. But I keep niggling—at what point was the decorative/instructional artwork added? Before, after, even during that soft deforming? Brrrr …

Bugger~! Spouse wants me to go do some overdue work in the garden, and I know that tone of request (ignore it and beyond here be monsters.) (Dum dog I may well be, but stupid I ain’t…)











being a wet blanket … cuckoo


anything to do with the notion of ‘time travel’. Isn’t there something challenging, impossible, feasible … and even (dammit) satisfying about the idea?

It seems so ‘logical’ — if two places exist, it must be possible to travel between them. All you need is the right equipment. Yeahhhhh …


Screen Shot 2016-12-30 at 20.13.23.png


quick peek at u-toobe brings up (too often) funny little ‘photos’ purporting to show time travellers (often some gowk peering over the unknowing shoulder of some famous name.) Or anachronistic artefacts.

Or quotes from highly regarded citizens claiming to have had ‘time slip’ experiences—the two UK schoolmarms Moberley and Wossername in Paris, Air Marshall Goddard and his out-of-character airfield. All the stuff of fiction but claiming to be fact—

According to Miss Moberly and Miss Jourdain, that afternoon they encountered a succession of people in late-18th-century costume, some of whom spoke to them. At the time, they thought little of it. The first of these spectres was a servant woman shaking a sheet from the window of a building (later found to be non-existent), followed by a pair of ill-mannered “gardeners” in uniform (subsequently identified by the ladies as Swiss Guards), then a repulsive-looking man with a pockmarked face leaning on a balustrade next to a rocky outcrop. He was followed by a handsome, out-of-breath young man in a wide-brimmed hat, who appeared as if from nowhere behind them and told them to go back to the palace immediately. The climax of this ghostly tour was a woman seen sketching (by Miss Moberly only, although in later testimony Miss Jourdain said she could sense a presence), who could only have been Marie Antoinette – that is what the ladies claimed.

To read from source:  CLICK HERE

Screen Shot 2016-12-30 at 20.17.02.png

I appreciate a good story as much as anyone. And in my lifetime I’ve seen real things change so unbelievably that if I’d been told about them as a pup I’d have rolled about howling with laughter at all the marvellous jokes.


think that TT is impossible? How about:

if something has already happened, it happened exactly as it was ever going to (doomed?) happen. And having happened—it can’t be ‘unhappened’ (duuuuh) … so?

So if you (you clever little Time Travelling person, you) … go back a million years or a mere ten minutes and discover yourself to be in a simple rain shower you will have (a) major problems, and (b) a very limited survival span. How so?

If a raindrop fell ten minutes (or thirty million years) ago—it fell. It fell, and that falling is a fact of history. If you suddenly popped out of nowhere, directly in its historically established path—it would pass blithely right through you as if you weren’t even there. No? A simple squall of raindrops would shred you more thoroughly than a burst of fire from a machine-gun.

Actually, to heck with their silly raindrops—even a gentle breeze back then would rearrange you.

Wow—500 words already and I’m hardly even started. Still, that’s enough of a challenge to preconceptions: let battle commence.

Show me where I’m wrong*













* Go back and change the past? Hell … you can’t even change the future. No?



the untold story.

Now told—

—but who the hell cares? pc

It’s all ancient history now, isn’t it?

Of no earthly relevance to today … other than we can bring it out on PH Day (and other anniversaries) for a good old emotive weep-fest; you know, salute the flag with manly tearful eyes and pledge pledges and all that other stirring stuff. Then back to sleep until the next ‘salute the heroes‘ occasion; life goes on and we mustn’t let such ancient histories take over and rule our lives—no more than every day is Christmas.


(I love it when organic robots respond to their programming, it restores my faith in human nature) I urge you to set aside some of your conditioning and not only visit this link: HERE

but to actually think about it.

You know, try to get below the surface a bit, the ol’ who-why-what-and how stuff.

And, if you can spare the time, how about revisiting the issue of the USS Liberty (entering history and going down for the final time even as we read—not many of those sacrificia dupe victi expendables guys left now either.)

Does any of it affect you today, you decent honest little voter, you?*


dent in Liberty, courtesy of Israel & the US government


* Naaaaahhhhh …

The Ring Of Truth



pcThis one really rang my bell.

But before you get the link you get the snippet—


I no longer just blindly follow along. I question everything and stick with food and plant based medicines that have been around for centuries. The road to recovering my health has been long and slow because I made many mistakes along the way. I also didn’t know that I had Lyme Disease.  It took me almost 7 years to heal myself. Here is an article that explains in more detail all that I have done to get well. I no longer suffer with Bipolar Disorder, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, Lyme Disease, migraines, hypothyroidism, anemia, candida overgrowth, parasites and other co-infections. With proper nutrition, detoxification and healthy lifestyle the body can and will heal itself.

—and good luck with it. So here’s your LINK.

It’s a judgement call on your part. Sadly in this life too often you only get the one chance to exercise that judgement. But as I murmured in a reply on someone’s blog recently:

“Doctors quietly bury their mistakes”

—and good luck to them. Certainly they can set bones and take out various redundant bits (wot? The Ultimate Designer made mistakes?) and peer within without opening up, all good stuff, but for myself I use them only as a very last resort.


‘crank’ enough about it (without going ballistic) you shouldn’t much need doctors, and then only rarely …

“Mr Argus, Sir?”

“Yes, Little Ollivia?”

“Sir … when I grow up, should I be a heart-surgeon or a dentist?”

“Dentist, Kid! Most folks have thirty-two teeth but only the one heart …”




Especially against The Establishment. devil-1

Thanks to modern ‘education’ we have the blanket—almost compulsory—acceptance of what is nothing other than ‘scientifically proven’ urban myth.


across items like wot this snippet is snup from:


1. You need drugs
I quit all drugs in 2007. I was on heavy drugs for over 14 years and my health continued to decline. These included antidepressants, painkillers, anti-anxiolytics, laxatives, mood stabilizers, sedatives  and antibiotics. The mental illness and pain were actually the result of Lyme Disease, mineral deficiencies and eating foods that caused an inflammatory response. 

2.The sun will give you cancer
I increased sun exposure. Research shows clearly that low blood levels of vitamin D are linked with a higher risk of cancer. Our most natural way to get Vitamin D is still the sun – despite the fact that it has been demonized over the years. Vitamin D is an important infection-fighter and key ingredient for a healthy functioning immune system.  Note: Those of us with chronic infections do not have healthy immune systems, and typically have very low stores of Vitamin D.  If you are fair or have avoided sunbathing for many years you will have to condition your skin to receive direct sun. Start with a few minutes per day and work your way up. Do not burn your skin. Most days I get at least 1 -2 hours of sun per day. I walk, swim or do aqua-fit most mornings.  You can read my article on Beach Therapy for a better explanation of why I love the sun, sea and sand. My skin is lovely and I get many compliments on it.

For Source:  CLICK HERE 

—but:  I must admit, I’m a self-confessed anti-establishment anti-bulldefecations cynical oldish poop. I’ve survived to a moderate age in reasonable health simply by being aware (never had a stitch, never been knocked out and never had a broken bone).

I (a genuine card-carrying cynical sceptic, don’t forget) always ask myself “Cui bono?”*. Or as The Literature of Quality Assurance blithely tells us:


“Always ask ‘WHY?’ at least five times”


—and the theory is that being so dedicatedly inquisitive should get you in the ball park and within range of the real Root Cause. BUT: be careful!

Asking it of your Government—wherever you are—could lead to some pretty revolting thoughts. Brrr …


* Chewy boney? That’s dog language for “Who benefits?” (Who-whom-him-her-he-she; never me …)




the wise men and the camels depart …

… and after the Lord Mayor’s parade come the corporation shovellers.


fades again into the background cacophony for another year. All we are left with is memory and the few snaps we scored.  Like these buggers below—I had to wait until quite late in the evening to get them, dammit.


businesses that deals in earth-works and culverts and stuff sets up a crib-scene every year. And every year I wait with bated breath for the wee donkey to reappear, but sadly I think ol’ Donk has gone the way of the dinosaur. (And yes, I may be an atheist but I’m not religious about it; we festering baby-eaters are allowed to enjoy too, you know.)

Screen Shot 2016-12-27 at 15.18.42.png

This above is your eyeful on approach.

And this—

Screen Shot 2016-12-27 at 15.20.02.png

—is what you get when you poke your lens through the mesh. A classic ‘nativity’ scene, no? But wait … all may not be what it appears.

That awesomely glum looking sheep, for example, is sitting like a dog. Is there a coded message here*? And that cattle-cow on the left seems to be looking away from the Guest Of Honour, not towards with due adoration as one might expect.


into a scene that should be one of tranquility, singing angels, feathers, and loving gazes. No?

Screen Shot 2016-12-27 at 15.17.48.png

But what would the studious student of body language and the unsubtle postures of human emotions read here?

Personally I would think that there’s a wee hint of sadness in the empty handed Joseph character.

For the most obvious of reasons—he was away all those months carpentating in Judea, doing his best as a dutiful devoted distant doting husband to keep fish and olives on the table … and now he has a honky baby son. One that will grow up to be the all-time classic blue-eyed fair-haired JC of N; one that will resemble him (Joe) in name only.

AND WHATAngel.gif
is Mary’s posture telling him, other than touch me and you will be circumsised again you lout!

And so she should be, peeved. She was never unfaithful to ol’ Joe—not with any man.

And it was an angel of The Lord, not just some smooth-talker off the street. So there**.


in sadness but not without one last glance that took in the three Wise Guys standing sitting standing in silence and wisely saying nothing whilst desperately clutching their gifts, wishing they were anywhere else but here right now …

Devil 1.png

Only 3 and a bit more months to Easter …


* Or have I been reading too many Dan Brown type books? Brrr …

** Honi soit qui mal y pense



As a given I accept that modern ‘education’ has a lot to be doubleplus unproud of. But the New Wave PC has even less. Under the guise of ‘values’ PC expects us to accept a whole lot of cra  drivel as fact. Propaganda masquerading as ‘thought’.


obviously originated in the USA. I’m not an American. But I am a human being, despite being of white Anglo-Saxon honky extraction (I can trace my ancestry all the way back across the ages and generations to Grandpa) … so?

So here your snippet—

not all B & W.png

sourced at/from: CLICK HERE

—and me being so very far behind the cutting edge of thought I have no idea what a ‘cuck’ is. Possibly I’m better off not knowing …


rather than the PC trying to control the thinking of other people with their puerile slogans and pathetic guilt trips wouldn’t it be better for people—black, white, polka-dotted or whatever—to simply make their own minds up? Value judgements?


is a label. I accept that in some places the difference between life and death could well boil down to colour—so I avoid those places (I imagine that likewise do the clucks that call us cucks—why would that be, do you think?).


I refuse to accept unearned guilt. My own conscience is totally (should I repeat that, for the indoctrinated and brain dead?) totally clear. You may call me a racist as much as you like for not loving my diverse brothers on face value; or even (shock, horror, dismay) my white brethren.

I extend my goodwill to all … but not my ‘love’.

My love has to be earned.

My love doesn’t come with the rain. It’s neither a given nor a consequence of co-existence.

My goodwill gives folks room to demonstrate that they are worthy of the chance to earn my love. Anyone who ‘loves’ all comers (white, black, slit-eyed, round-eyed, yellow, brown, mulatto, whatever) on face value is … for want of a better word … indiscriminate.


by anything I’ve written here: good.

It means that

(a) I’ve succeeded as a writer, and

(b) you really do need to look beyond your conditioning.


is the freedom to think, to observe the world around us and make our own (PC folks, please note) conclusions, based on reality.

The first and foremost reality is (as I state often) that


and anyone commanding me to ‘love’ people simply because of their skin colour is both a wannabe dictator and an unrealistic dilly-whacking controlling prat out for his/her own gain at my expense. Yours too. Not good …


there are indeed an awesome amount of raving foaming-at-the-mouth racists out there.

So the starting point for the do-gooders (our wannabe controllers) should always be—if they are sincere—why?

Why so?

Rather than try to control the fairly reasonable (the unreasonable simply won’t buy it) (lucky them) they should be looking at root causes. You know, go back to the source and start there. Ask ‘why?’ at least five times.

But they won’t







WPC: Path


is as good as arrest. But stay on the right path—


—and you are in line to be creamed. Even better then to get off the path and keep clear of the beaten track … at least then you don’t become part of someone’s tyres. Or as they say in America “You won’t get tired.”


you may have seen before but at Christmas we all get our chance to recycle. Today’s gorgeous wrappings are tomorrow’s bin fodder, no?

Moving on—


—the theme of the Challenge is ‘path’. Here we have the path traced by a crittur quite some time ago, a track left by a sea snail of some kind about a hundred million years back. I found it at Gemstone Beach and snaffled it from the many oodles just like it and identified it from a tourist guide book specialising in such. The piece is actually quite hard and a lot more robust than you might think.

Moving on—

test the path.png

The Spouse of the species, knowing that somewhere around here lies—

(a) a path (yes, please) and

(b) a wee creek (glug, glug and no, thanks) …

—but she can’t remember which is where, exactly.

Moving on—

road to infinity.png

A path to infinity. I remember from many years ago something to the effect that parallel lines never meet. And in another place some philosophically minded berk mathematician boldly stating that parallel lines meet at infinity. Ergo: Path to the infinite.

And now, for them wot likes ducks—


—have a nice duck.

He was making his own path through the waters when I shot him. Blame Maria (Bess) for bringing to my notice that a rotated (duck) can resemble a monstrous monster, so it’s all her fault. (Until then I was innocent, now I can’t see ducks without seeing monsters.)


“Cultural Enrichment”

c/o Maid Merkel

and her merry men minions.

pcI have just watched a u-toobe video. Seen the guy before in other shows but his name eludes me.

So I shan’t try to sell you on it (just over six minutes) but regardless of any facts involved, and his blatant lack of any PC … you can at least admire his passion.

Here ’tis—



—and history doesn’t seem to be judging ol’ Merky too badly, if what the guy says about her re-election chances is correct. For myself, I like the bit right at the beginning where the nice refugee helps what appears to be a young lady down the stairs. From ambush. (Is that sound tactical planning, or what? Well done, you!)




to the


gang. dodo-doodey


this comment some disappointed and lamenting soul posted on Amazon a couple of years ago—

Screen Shot 2016-12-21 at 07.31.07.png

—concerning the Dvd version of the ‘Muppet Christmas Carol’.

We too were disappointed. Horribly. We felt— we feel—shortchanged, ripped off, fleeced. Conned. Robbed.


the video cassette version of the movie, and when vids went the way of the dodo to be replaced by digital discs we replaced.

And were bitterly disappointed that the pivotal scene of the entire movie was cut. It was more than just a lovely song sweetly sung—the whole blasted plot hinged on it. Disney in its wisdom had made a travesty of its own big hit—not good.

I tried to analyse but speculation is not answers. Was there some greedy person trying to renege on a deal by demanding greater fees and/or bigger royalties?

Did the singer promise behind the scenes to sleep with someone with the power to obliterate her regardless of consequences—then renege, and get removed from the face of the film?

I have no idea. All I do know is that Disney has ripped me off and I’m a little peeved about it. But wait~! All is not lost; since then they’ve come up with a new issue, one that (wonders of wonders) actually includes the song! Boom boom!



for the second time we purchased as soon as the “Got the missing Song!” variant came out. We dragged up the sofa, popped the corn and settled in for — at last — the Promised Land.

Wrong again …

The scene was still out, cut, absent, gone, kablooied.

We sat through to the end, and right at the very last the missing song was sung— as a background voiceover, sound to fill the acoustic vacuum of closing credits and such. Not even the same voice.

If you’ve read this far this link will take you to what we were after, paid for, were sucked/conned into buying but didn’t get:

—and the singer in the ‘Here it is~!’ version had a much more powerful voice and dynamic delivery.

Nice, but entirely out of context …


Simply rebut me.

If you can.

I don’t want an apology, or an explanation. Or a sop ‘free sample’ of anything. All I want to receive, even at this late stage is the value-for-money (c’mon, Disney—you know, the goods) that I paid for (twice*).

Is that too much to ask?









  • Fool me once, yes.
  • Fool me a second time, I obviously deserve it.
  • Fool me a third time? No. Tolerant or not … I lack that much good will.