I enjoyed furry tails when I was a pup.

Now tonight, this—


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Ye gods. All those years and I never knew! I beg forgiveness on behalf of my long-dead School Marms and Sirs—they knew not wot they had done.

But soft … what light through yonder window breaks, could it be PC itself now going through the Discretion Gate to storm the Insanity Barrier? ‘Tis a consummation devoutly to be witched—and shall we discover that the broomstick is but an allegorical penis too, and the riding thereof some form of metaphorical orgasm? Sheesh!

“Mr Argus … Sir?”

“Yes, little Ollivia?”

“Sir … you forgot to mention Noddy?”

“The little nodding man? The one who sleeps with Big Ears? In the house that looks like a demented sex-maniac’s idea of a phallic symbo—”

“That’s it, Sir—but no-one, really, lives in a mushroom or toadstool.”

“So? I knew that.”

“His ‘nodding‘, Sir?”

“Wot? … … … … … … … … … … … … oh!”

“They bestrew our paths with pitfalls, Sir. Thank God for the PC, no?”

“Er … are you allowed to misuse The Lord’s name in so insouciant a manner?”

“Don’t fret, Sir. He and I have reached an accommodation; He explained about Adam and Eve too. It seems that their snake was actually another literary device for copulatory orga—”

“Desist, Child! You’ll be getting me banned!”

“I thought WordPress folks were all grown-ups, Sir?”

“And I thought Noddy and company were but innocent kid-lit too, Child …”

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“It is up to the young men of today — hand in hand with the young women — to remodel manhood for the future by calling out sexism, refusing to let racism pass, overriding and shouting down the voices of their elders when they speak falsely or unfairly, replacing the nastiness with messages of respect and tolerance. Only they can be the change we need, so that the old white men of the future are men the world can be proud of, not just obnoxious people who hide in your bushes.”

Screen Shot 2020-06-26 at 17.58.14I leave it to your discretion as to wot bin unto which you consign it. For myself, I think it’s propaganda, and for a purpose … as to the purpose: you be the judge. It’s your call, your future). And this next isn’t a trick question, no marks or grades, and there’s definitely no concealed motives or traps:

What do YOU make of it?

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(Are we allowed to take the name of our* deities in vain?)


“For MySelf, Dog … I honestly don’t mind.”


I really am worried. In accordance with the new mores and values, I really do NOT wish to impugn anyone’s integrity, downgrade their image, be uncouth, or trample any of their what passes for values.)


So how do you think I thought I felt when I hadn’t even considered such a delicacy as this, from years ago—

(delicacy below)

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—and had no idea that such a damned foul filthy stinking reeking slanderous insulting denigrating obnoxious preposterous politically incorrect and racially slurring product name was still around?

So on behalf of every obnoxion dating back decades, generation, centuries; millennia even, may I please grovelingly apologise—both now and retrospectively, and in advance for any insult perceived however unintentional or acceptably appropriate at the time?


dodo me dodo me                                                       dodo me

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* Okay, I meant ‘your’ … YOUR damned deities. I don’t have no gods meself.



All I want before I enter the void is a few good answers. Having sat at the feet of wise men and wimmin for decades I am no closer to any satisfying answers. Research, it seems, is often a form of unclimaxed mental masturbation.

ARK has kindly led us to an equation that might help. (Thanks for that … you’ll keep!) but I no longer do sums myself; I prefer to sit on a log in a forest and ponder. I’ve met a lot of nice rabbits and fantails doing so but am no closer to truth than when I was a lad. More tools are available today, with even fewer answers. Bummer.

Too many unknowns. Too many unanswerables. It’s only when you actually think about stuff you realise that your heroes have feet of clay (thanks for that, Dr Brian Cox … you’ll keep).

So I still think the Zen folks make better sense than many—to paraphrase Basho* and his buddies:


“What is the sound of one hand clapping?”


And therein lies the answer to all questions.


PS  Don’t forget to tip the monkey on your way out…


dodo me

* I think it was he … the famous haiku; I refer to it often ‘cos it’s the only sense in all of literature. (The frog one, of course …)



  1.  She is unabashed in her religion, a good Christian …
  2.  In many respects her politics are much like mine.


dislike anything it is that she adamantly refuses to engage in conversation. Like any good religionist her word is both Absolute and final. Bummer …

So I ask, what is she so afraid of?

Perhaps … being (in places) rational the possibility that she might be ‘converted’ by rational discourse? Discourse based not on a challengeable book written when the world was flat; but on Reality?



        (Oops …)

“Yes, Mr God, Sir?”

“Before The Creation I saw you writing this post, Dog—”


“—and tell you now, you’re barking up a gum tree. Your use of logic won’t change her any more than it can change a good Muslim, a good Jew, a good Communist or a good Nazi—”


“Yep. Still alive and well and awaiting the opportune moment for resurrectio—”

“When, Sir?”

“Can’t tell you that, Dog. Privileged information … now go read Revelations, it’s all there. Fate. Fated by Me, and none of your mortals can change one iota—”

“Bummer, Sir.”

“You alone of all my peoples have got it, Dog … hope you’re proud.”

“You setting me up, Sir?”

“…  … no, just being ineffable … damn’ dogs, shouldn’t be allowed … mutter mutter mutter …)”


“Well done, Pup! I think …”



“He also urged other struggling retailers to take on the support that Government could offer them.”


Nice. A government that actually cares. (Sweet, unusual, impossible, and very welcome too)(for some?)


But for cynics like moi (and any Realists alike) there’s always the ‘but’. I mean, take this ‘government support’ for example—who is this government? Are our rulers going to dip into their own pockets? Wow! But I doubt it. So: whose pockets ARE they dipping into? Taxes will be going up, no? And immensely. Or:

the nice Government is raising (more) loans overseas


Yep, more loans.

But loans are free money, no? They never have to be paid back!

Interesting point. But if in the future some damned capitalist lender does want its damned dosh back—will it be our caring Government who pays it back? (It will? Oh … that’s just so very sweet of them; has New Zealand after thousands of years finally invented the genuine altruist?)



Or, if as I suspect it’s ME that has to cough up, me who has to finance the largesse of a government (of self-obsessed individuals hiding behind a facade of ‘group’ activity, group decisions) — I just hope that I’m never repossessed.

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Face it, Kiwi … you are in for a bit of a rough ride.





“He is also credited with having fought the Air Ministry so that fighter planes were equipped with bullet proof wind shields.”

I need do more research but I understand that the same anti-social git even advocated putting guns into Britain’s fighter planes. Honestly, some people! Have they no respect for the ‘noise pollution’ laws, and the fact that falling empties might break the panes in some bugger’s greenhouse?




in God’s own country

—and this bit in New Zealand’s ‘Southland Times”(social comment?)

Admittedly, church services are far from identical. At some the worshipers take the “He is my shield” declaration literally indeed. Hence those T-shirts reading: “Spoiler alert: Jesus wasn’t vaccinated.”

Certainly there was cause for concern when Destiny Church’s earthly leader Brian Tamaki was taking the line during the strictures of level 4 that tithe-paying Christians were protected from coronavirus.

What are we discussing/illustrating there—ignorance? Arrogance? The eternal lust of the con-man for pelf?

Above snippet from:  CLICK HERE

And for all those people who died in the epidemic:

get God in your lives! You know: ‘sure and certain resurrection’ etc etc … but hopefully in a world free from the viruses that the Unique Prime Mover of The Universe set up and loosed God alone knows how long ago. Why’d He do that? Hey, don’t ask me … go ask a priest. Any priest …

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