devil-29973__340I’m allowed to ask innocent questions. I’m also allowed (nay, expected) to visit other crank sites and gobble up their good stuffs with mad raptorous abandonment*.

So I wolf the u-tubes of folks like Jimmy (‘Bright Insight’) (loooove his enthusiasm); or of a someone who seems happy making a living by helping folks glut their desires for mystery—Brien Foerster’s offerings are worth the visit too. It’s an honest buck**.


I follow leads, asking questions from a great height (Google satellites—we mortals can’t get much higher from our armchairs). Like this—

Abu Gorab.png

—which to put into context you’d have to go to Brien’s UT post: CLICK HERE

I notice a lot of things but the most intriguing might also have the most mundane explanations: like what are those wee circles?

While poor ol’ Brien ponders his shattered pyramid being off true north by 23 degrees, I ponder the minors … here, have a nice shattered pyramid—

Screen Shot 2018-06-13 at 17.59.25.png

—possibly damaged beyond economical repair by some oaf stumbling about in the dark. Or perhaps God got grumpy ‘cos they didn’t slaughter Him enough lambs***.

I love cranks and admire anyone who turns an honest buck. People want weirdies, Brien serves ’em up—but genuine weirdies you can touch, kick, climb over and feel that you’ve got your money’s worth—

—not like those in church where the holey bikkie blatantly does NOT become human flesh, nor the wine turn into (retch) blood. Brrrrr, but it takes all sorts …

Eve & Lution

“He wot, you say? Loves animals? Oh … really?”




* No. Good spotting, but it’s not a typo … us birdbrains are right into our puns, no?

** Hence my intense dislike of the clergy (any clergy).

*** God looooooves little lambs, they’re so … … innocent. And delicious.




or was it vandals? Both? Who knows, it’s all ancient history now (hence my ‘Ozzy’ reference in a previous post somewhere)—


I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter’d visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp’d on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock’d them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.


I prefer to think of sackers as Vandals. We have ’em in modern Invercargill too, still, and they are voted into office—some of ’em—others by sheer talent kick and gouge and scratch and bite their way to positions of ultimate power. ‘Tis ever thus …

Now look ye upon these mighty works:

Screen Shot 2018-05-13 at 08.57.43

—where by the hand of Man Person a lovely pyramid rises majestic and eternal above the deserts of trees and verdant stuffs, and …

… catch my despair as a Great Plan comes to fruition. (Aside: New Zealanders do not know the meaning of the simple English word ‘prone’. But our Cunning can, and do, apply it, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools.)

If it wasn’t bad enough that New Zealand is genuinely ‘earthquake prone’ (yes, we get ’em a lot here) they actually broadcast the fact to all and sundry.

Not good … what they naively really mean is that Kiwiland stands at earthquake risk (face it, so does anybody).

In Invercargill it appears that clever people are using the fact to push/promote their own agendas.

The old saying is that “You can’t fight City Hall!” and there’s a great deal of truth therein. You can fight, yes—but expect to win? (Hah! You wish …)

So the ambitious here have a new broom—and she is decisive and swift. Atilla the Hun couldn’t have done better than she has, just look at these lovely trees now—

Screen Shot 2018-05-13 at 08.58.14.png

—and look upon Great works, ye paltry (it means citizens — you know, taxpayers and junk, to be courted only on election day) and weep*.



* Ooops, sorry trees … but you were in the way, dammit! (And in a hundred years who will give a large rodent’s derriere anyway?)



I TOO WAS devil-29973__340 copy

open minded, tolerant, and other nice stuff. But not now. No more …


a disease beyond most foul diseases, beyond even the comprehension of most normal people. (Go ahead, give me the clichéd “But what is normal?”) 


is religion. Unhealthy at any time it becomes lethal when intrusive. But the most intrusive, the most two-faced and outright despicably cunning is the growth that calls itself Islam.


sprang from the loins of a murderous insane (but brilliant~!) pedarast some thirteen centuries ago in the Middle East. It is the salivating insatiable ‘wolf in lamb’s clothing’  cliché made flesh.


of getting into theoretical discussions on this topic—I’d rather let its own actions speak for themselves.

I did try though, on several occasions, to read its ‘holy book’ and failed miserably each time.

I even tried downloading and retexting it, removing all the endless repetitions of meaningless phrases designed to stupify — try it yourself, say “God is great! There’s is no God but God and Earthworm is His Holy Name” a hundred thousand times and see if at the end of it you don’t just have fuzzy feelings towards earthworms. Lenin, Stalin, Hitler, Uncle Mo … all were clever men who know what they were about and where they wanted to go. Mo was quite open about it, he wanted free access to all the women and (get this, it’s actually important) little girls he could lay. His hands on.

Damn. I know I’ll have to try to read it again. But I also know that unless I can learn Arabic and verse myself in the subtleties of the lingo I’ll be forever an outsider, the subtle meanings and etc etc etcs can only be grasped properly by the native speakers. Bugger.

The only valid weapon the sane have against the insane, the only realistic defence is quite simply The Law of Contradiction—

Contradictions Law

—if anyone can be bothered.

There is an alternative for the lazy or open-hearted …

Screen Shot 2018-03-31 at 09.17.01.png

… just accept on faith what this nice fuzzy teddy bear cheerfully tells you. No terrorists in his mosque, dammit! All is sweetness and light. AND—

Screen Shot 2018-03-31 at 09.17.26.png

—Allah blesses his every enterprise. As for atheists? Kill the buggers out of hand but save their virgins for your troops. (Trust me, it works…)

Screen Shot 2017-07-02 at 17.15.05



kismet 1 red



Ram leftor better yet, build a better


and the world is your oyster. Until some other public benefactor builds a better one …

Want to win a war? Build a better gun. Now China appears to have taken a huge stride ahead of the United States with the first experimental deployment of a new ‘supergun’ aboard a warship.

to read more: CLICK HERE


the Chinese didn’t ‘declare’ war on the west years ago. They just went ahead and did it anyway, but without all the usual fanfare, loud noises, and smelly stuff. And we fell for it—they used us as weapons against ourselves; fiendishly clever and it worked.

It’s an observation that sticks in my craw every time I pop into one of the too many Chinese cheapie emporiums. They sell junk, but serviceable junk at mega-low prices. Win/win all round, no?

Well … no.

Think about it.

We buy their ultra cheap hosepipes, nail clippers, brushes, photo albums; which is good—we get what we want for a fraction the price we’d otherwise have paid for one made in New Zealand, Australia, Britain, USA, The West … mostly cheap junk, adequate (just) but shoddy; yet it does the job. Briefly. And when it claps out, then what? We go back and buy shoddy cheap again.

And in the meantime the more expensive (and much better quality) New Zealand/western products sit forlornly on the shelves …

… do this often enough and the non-Chinese producers go out of business. (One needs sales to make a profit, no? And without profit, why the heck be in business?)


do the Chinese make their profit—they too have to pay for raw materials, skills, labour and shipping; and it all comes out of … … their sales receipts? Oh, really? Or could it be that their friendly government subsidises them … and if so:  why?

Why should the Chinese taxpayer subsidise our New Zealand garden hoses and photo books?

Why should the Chinese taxpayer subsidise putting our own producers out of business … and making us thus entirely dependent on them?

Don’t ask me, dammit. I’m asking you … but here’s a thought, make of it what you will:


Screen Shot 2018-02-06 at 17.11.30.png


—and ponder all possible meanings of the phrase:  Oops …

Has subsidising my car wash brushes all these years actually set the scene for artificial islands, rail guns, and conquest? Brrrr~!

Good morning, big.pngMy point? We’re exporting our ‘minor’ manufacturing to China, No?



attention to



again. Everything is politics


have a couple of ‘Pages’ attached.

One of them, (in a form anyone can read) is written more or less as child-lit. Kid-lit, call it what you will. I first drafted it before the great J K Rowling hit the shelves so although you may find similarities there’s no plagiarism involved. She made a bundle, I flubbed, but that’s the way of it and I won’t (can’t~!) complain. Dammit …


tale I encapsulated a lifetime’s observations with a few bits of cynical thought. But the premises are valid and I challenge anyone to dispute them:


—and for anyone not au fait with the British way of English, Swindleham isn’t pronounced “Swindle Ham”.  It’s actually “Swindle ’em” …

falls off a pale horse



Trollerconspiracy theorist trolling


I read and watch a lot of good stuff. And a lot of shady stuff, a lot of shonky stuff and/or a load of utter rubbish. It’s all grist to the mill, shoes to the last, par for the course, wotever; and some of it even holds my attention despite the occasional wide-eyed over-indulgent enthusiasm of the guy presenting—

for example:  CLICK HERE

—but I do love anything that triggers the old  ‘wotif?’ instincts (and for that matter, triggers the ‘so bloody what’ response).

Apply them as tools to this guy’s vid: so bloody what if he’s missing a few marbles*? Even more worse—if he’s spouting the truth? (So what if he is, hmmm? Like the traditional lotto winner you won’t let it change your life…)

And: ‘wotif’ … wotif it’s all true?


Don’t ask.

Don’t ponder. Don’t consider. Just keep plodding patiently along, after all—

—no bugger would ever tell you porkies. God is in Her heaven and all is well with the universe—




* Is he? I don’t think so. Enthusiastic yes, loopy, no.





In spades. With knobs on.

But, you may ask … but why?

Why would such a nice good-looking old dog have it in for the innocent—who after all are simply manipulated mindless organic automatons aimed by very clever programming?


Snowflakes are the tools of powers safely behind the scenes (now you know I’m barking mad, but a little honesty clears the air) (we Conspiracy Theorists are often honest).


more better. The ambitious in WW2 Japan used well programmed mindless automatons too. The saddest thing for those robots was that they looked and acted just like disciplined rational people; and that’s the saddest thing about Snowflakes too (leaving out the ‘disciplined’ bit).

Kamikaze = Snowflake?

Hardly … the kamikaze at least was aware. Sort of. In their final haiku many of the pilots concerned likened themselves to falling cherry blossoms …

Cherry blossom.jpg

—what can our sniffling Snowflakes liken themselves to? Ear muffs? Perhaps. The mind boggles—

Anyone who has followed the free-speech wars in America over recent years will know that by now, basically, nobody can speak anywhere. Especially at centres like that one-time home of free speech, Berkeley, California, you now cannot speak in public if you’re a man or a woman, if you’re gay or straight and if your skin is white or not. Now to the great list of categories of people who should not be allowed to speak in America we can add …

—is this the ‘free speech’ you fought and died for? I just love paradox: you died for their free speech right to shut down free speech … bugger, I just bit my own mouth:





I think it all depends on how you define good and evil, and where you sit in the social equations. But if you are aware—what the hell could you do about it?

Perhaps those sobbing Snowflakes have got something after all … I think that for myself I’d rather be a cherry blossom …