Time to fight back against ‘political correctness’

So I have a new animal hero; a dog whelk. Learnt about it and other rock pool dwelling critters on a marine ranger training day yesterday. These whelks slime their way onto the shells of veggy eating molluscs like barnacles and then drill a hole in their shells, once through they inject a load of digestive enzymes and suck out the resulting meaty broth. Of course some anthropomorphic folk think this unpleasant, I think it remarkable what supposedly simple creatures, without even a backbone let alone sapiens, have evolved. I also caught a spindly thing I thought was a young spindly crab, the chief warden (she’s not a ranger like me yet) looked at it in my hand and told me it was a sea spider, I immediately put it into her hand telling her I was an arachnophobe.

Thinking of unpleasant creatures I  haven’t mentioned the kleptonic bastards for a while, those giant squid like creatures who suck the wealth out of societies and we hear and read so little truth about how they operate; politicians of all persuasions go along with the kleptomyths such as their entrepreneurial skills, wealth creators, job providers and other mythical bollocks. This tiny rant came after an excellent article I’ve just read by one Rutger Bregman entitled; “No, wealth isn’t created at the top. It is merely devoured there”  https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/mar/30/wealth-banks-google-facebook-society-economy-parasites

There’s one lovely quote he uses; when goldman sachs current ceo, lloyd blankfein, was asked about the purpose of his job he replied that he was “doing god’s work”. Not surprising when so many treat these bloodsucking giant squids like gods, with our unquestioning adulation and hourly incantations of the bleedin’ footsie, wall street and exchange rates as if it has any direct relevance to the greater mass of homo sapiens, ooh err missus the footsie’s risen. Bollocks. Rentier, kleptonic bollocks.

And then I read about Suzanne Moore bemoaning social conservatism defeating political correctness and I come across the following comment:”

“So Political correctness is a pejorative term created and coined solely by the right that signifies nothing but their contempt for any concept that is not firmly embedded in the radical extreme selfishness of Ayn Rand’s objectivism.

The privileged right have to believe that their privilege is born of their superiority, higher intelligence and manly aggression. Whereas the reality it is born of their inherited wealth, the enduring legacy of feudal hegemony, and delusional self-aggrandisement.

In another time you would have claimed that views calling for the abolition of slavery were “political correctness”.

If one had to attach a meaning to the phrase “political correctness” that you smug, self-satisfied, traitorous, Brexit bastards so love to brand any resolution or action that might be the slightest bit progressive in your eyes. then I would suggest “the application of civilised, ethical standards to behaviour and thought” rather than “good manners”. Excellent.


Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.


Flagellatelic bubbles.

Here I am, sitting in my bubble, lapping up all the biased confirmation and trying to think. Aha, that’s what I need lots of thought bubbles, so now I’m sat in a bubble with lots of other bubbles bubbling around my bubble and, as soap bubbles do, they coalesce, those lovely geometric interfaces eventually reach a point where they merge, the smaller bubbles don’t pop they just make the original bubble larger. Trouble is the original bubble had a few fairly coherent, if somewhat biased, thoughts and now there’s a veritable babble of thoughts, a babbling bubble of babel if you will.

This is what happens in my brain as I read and listen to so much stuff, how much easier it would be if I just stuck with one simple view, maybe I’ll go and buy an English flag and raise it high today as the letter is given to Mr Tusk, his Christian name is Donald and I suspect he feels a little like me occasionally with my namesake. Actually I’ve taken to collecting flags lately and a quick net perusal shows it’s an established hobby although doesn’t seem to have a name, flagellately perhaps? Anyway I have to think carefully about getting an English flag which says a lot about what flags can mean and represent. Us homo sapiens like to be in gangs and have our gang symbols such as flags, I have fond memories of walking around Sienna during il Palio and loving all the flags of the different areas of the city, I liked the snail, or conchigle, best. What was very noticeable was the difference between flags there and the English flag here and it’s representation and association. Don’t know if it’s me but there appears to be a nationalistic aggression associated with the English flag which is sad, as I would like to add it to my collection but I’m not too happy about having to get a bull terrier with it as I’m frightened of dogs.

But I am sad about us leaving the EU, so I will lower all the flags in our garden.

Yesterday I went to a splendid property in Swanage to pick up Sergei to take him to a hospital appointment, it had been a short notice job arranged the day before. I chuckled as I opened the gate with Perestroica on it. I pressed the unusual dog doorbell, it caused a barking inside. Eventually an elderly man still in his pyjamas (bit like me of late) answered and asked why I was there. I explained that I was to take him to hospital, he asked whether he should change I suggested it would probably be a good idea. We were already running a little late for the 3.15 appointment so would definitely be arriving late with him changing. We left, locked the door and then he remembered he needed a walking stick, apparently it was quicker to walk slowly around the bungalow. Along the way he tripped and as he was falling I caught and held him up “you were a rugby player” said he in his thick Ukrainian accent, “yes” I laughed. As we were getting into the car a delivery man delivered a prescription for him.

We conversed in the car, he was a nuclear scientist and the KGB were after him, now this is different. How do you know I’m not KGB I asked, you do not have the accent replied he in his Ukrainian accent. His wife had died recently of the very aggressive type of Alzheimers, she had died on the same day as their son who died in the Kings Cross tube fire 30 years ago. So sad.

We made the hospital and arrived at the reception about half an hour late although soon found out we were a month early, his appointment was for 28th April.


Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.

It’s a bloody obscenity.

So a recent study has ascertained that in this country, the value laden Great Britain (time we dropped the Great eh?), many girls, maybe thousands throughout the country, are missing days at school because they are menstruating. This isn’t primarily due to any embarrassment (although it plays it’s part in our patriarchal world) but because families are so poor that buying tampons, sanitary towels and other menstrual paraphernalia isn’t high on the essential list of essentials. Two things: an absolute disgrace that some are too poor to buy such essentials and that half the population have to pay for such essentials (let alone the insult that VAT is added). A woman talking about this with Eddie Mair on Radio 4 commented that he was the first man to interview her about this. Obviously manly menfolk have to discuss and pass judgement on much more manly things like brexit, soccer and terrorism.

I was treated today by one of this half of this population; a dental technician from Ireland. She was very good and signed me off, will she be signed off as part of the brexit deal being Irish and all? It’s good though that I’ve been signed off, no more dental appointments at the hospital, just the crabby check ups, next one due in a month.

It was a sad day yesterday as I finally succumbed to the propaganda that lilies are very poisonous for cats, I’d just potted a few lily bulbs and sadly took them and many more dotted around the garden out of the rich, deep earth (we have a few hundred so there will be lots to take out yet). Anyone want some lovely lily bulbs, including many magnificent tree lilies?

And john lydon aka johnny rotten says the working class have spoken and voted for brexit and he likes drumf, like the property developer is still working class, pretty vacunt.


Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.



The only helmet I wear when cycling is on my penis.

There’s a different mood suffusing my brain and body and it’s probably down to having a few needles stuck in various parts of my body. I’ve been having a few acupuncture sessions with one Alan Hext, one of the country’s leading needle stickers, and have been pleasantly surprised at it’s efficacy. Alan has coped well with my incoherent ramblings as to why I’ve gone to him, he’s expertly picked out a few salient points and then used his points. For example a few days after a session I and poor Kate noted my increased snappiness and short temper, I told Alan this in one of my more coherent moments and with some judicial sticking he said I’d feel more mellow, I did and it continued and I like it.

I recommend acupuncture at every unctuous talk I now give to crabby support groups; I particularly recommended it to a poor gentleman at About Face (a head and neck cancer charity in Poole) this week, he is very angry about what he considers some very shoddy treatment he received. He doesn’t want any compensation, a rare thing in our current money grubbing times, just acknowledgment and an apology, another rare thing in these grubby times.

I am increasingly of the opinion that we are a grubby species us homo sapiens, a grave misnomer as sapiens means wise. Got this info from a brilliant book I’m reading called Sapiens A Brief History of Humankind by one Yuval Noah Harari. One of his theories is that us homo sapiens came to dominate other homo species as well as all other species on Earth because we can imagine, create fiction and thus create myths. With these common myths, such as nationhood, we act together to impose our domination. As Harari states: “There are no gods in the universe, no nations, no money, no human rights, no laws and no justice outside the common imagination of human beings”. Brexit is but a figment of a fevered bunch of cults.

And our ability to create fictions whilst giving us a means of making some sort of sense of the world also leads us into judgmental dangers and the world is currently hurtling towards a very dangerous era with some cults blaming other cults for societal ills, think ukip here and drumf there. My poor uncle in Manhattan feels he’s living in a different country.

And people are apparently quick to anger at cyclists who don’t wear helmets, like me. And before any readers and drivers of motor vehicles get angry with me just pause a while before making judgment. The reason most wear cycle helmets is because of the dangers imposed by motor vehicles, limited cycle-centred roads and the poor state of roads. Drivers of motor vehicles cocooned in their giant ‘cycle helmets’ often get angry at cyclists, lots of cyclists are killed and maimed by motor vehicles and helmets provide very limited protection. In Holland any collision between a motor vehicle and bicycle is considered the motor vehicle drivers fault, cyclist fatalities and injury are far lower in Holland as is the wearing of helmets. There is evidence that wearing a helmet increases the incidence of neck injuries. Imposition of legislation requiring helmet wearing is not matched by a decrease in head injuries. Wearing helmets gives rise to something called ‘risk compensation’ whereby the wearer feels ‘safer’ so takes more ‘risks’ and the accident rates remain the same. Studies have shown that motor vehicle drivers pass cyclists wearing helmets significantly closer. So it is paradoxically the case that less protection leads to greater safety. Naked cycling anyone?

Reminds me of the time I was sat on the back of Martin’s Honda Goldwing in the south of France going very fast wearing only shorts and sunglasses, it was painful with all the insects smacking into my bare skin.

And now donald drumf junior is tweeting bollocks, having a go at London’s mayor Sadiq Khan after yesterday’s atrocity. How much longer does the world have to put up with all this trumpian shit, come on congressional republicans get your shit together and impeach the whole lot of ’em. It’s not like you haven’t got much to go on.


Keep on cycling on, love Duncan.


Many years ago I became aware of the word serendipity, I fell in love with it immediately because of it’s sound and spelling. This love was reinforced when I learned what it meant: ‘fortunate happenstance’. It had a spell of being in vogue but lately seems less so, actually vogue seems currently out of vogue in our weird world. Thing is, for something to be serendipitous we need to have an awareness of the world around us and this is ever harder with so much mediated through screens and ‘new media’.

Read a piece by Oliver Burkeman yesterday, lost touch with his writing of late as I read most of my Grauniad stuff on the line and we know how diverting and directive that is, and he wrote about an American, John Stilgoe: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2017/mar/10/get-outside-and-notice-the-magic-of-the-ordinary

I especially like the bit where he doesn’t give a schedule to his students on his ‘Art of Exploration’ courses and this causes his students some consternation as their minds are suddenly not constrained and channelled along programmed lines. So much of our current discourse, certainly political discourse, is so boringly predictable. When I taught the lessons I loved the best were the ones where the students were most engaged and took off on unplanned, unforeseen directions and we all went on little journeys with big smiles on our faces.

Now this didn’t just happen, but neither was it planned. Sadly the direction of much current education has gone along the planned route (perfect planning makes perfect bollocks) because we all have to be accounted and everything has to be measured. When I embarked on my teaching career I already had some beliefs, such as having an underpinning philosophy was way more important than fascistic discipline. I still remember an increasingly exasperated interviewer for a PGCE place eventually give up trying to get me to say discipline and finally ask “what about discipline?”

I soon learned that not having some element of structure and discipline was quite important and began to learn and incorporate such stuff. Since those far off halcyon days of teaching and the lamented Inner London Education Authority our public education system has become ever more constrained and narrow, it was hard work holding on to my beliefs and experiencing those occasionally wonderful lessons. But I always ‘noticed’: the students, their interactions with each other, with staff and with our environment, I always tried to be involved with our environment. Today is the vernal or spring equinox and it became one of our class rituals to celebrate such times of year so I have fond memories of such noticing.

“GET OUT NOW. Not just outside, but beyond the trap of the programmed electronic age so gently closing around so many people…. Go outside, move deliberately, then relax, slow down, look around. Do not jog. Do not run…. Instead pay attention to everything that abuts the rural road, the city street, the suburban boulevard. Walk. Stroll. Saunter. Ride a bike, and coast along a lot. Explore…. Abandon, even momentarily, the sleek modern technology that consumes so much time and money now…. Go outside and walk a bit, long enough to forget programming, long enough to take in and record new surroundings…. Flex the mind, a little at first, then a lot. Savor something special. Enjoy the best-kept secret around—the ordinary, everyday landscape that rewards any explorer, that touches any explorer with magic…all of it is free for the taking, for the taking in. Take it. take it in, take in more every weekend, every day, and quickly it becomes the theater that intrigues, relaxes, fascinates, seduces, and above all expands any mind focused on it. Outside lies utterly ordinary space open to any casual explorer willing to find the extraordinary. Outside lies unprogrammed awareness that at times becomes directed serendipity. Outside lies magic.”
John Stilgoe, Outside Lies Magic

So, had a dental check up last week and when the dentist asked me whether I had any allergies, only nigel farage and ukip replied I, he burst out laughing and we had a great time, best dentist I’ve ever experienced.

Have continued to feel generally mellow with my latest acupuncture.

Bit sad about England losing to the Irish, but nowhere near as upset as I used to get, wonder why?



The Bullingdon Broadcasting Company

Just watched Evan Davis on Newsnight and as ever it was cobblers. One interview was with a tt mp about the ongoing investigation into the tt’s election spending in the last election and today twelve police forces passed their investigative files to the crown prosecution service indicating that up to 20 tory mps exceeded their electoral spending limit. Could be significant and serious. If it had been 20 Labour mps and Mr Evan was interviewing a Labour mp, well, one can but speculate. Gadzooks what an absolute bounder Mr davis is.

Anyways, we all jolly well bang on about drumf and his lies and yet there are untruths aplenty spouted by our home grown lying tory twats. They have just been given the largest fine ever by the electoral commission because they deliberately broke the electoral spending limits. They bussed in activists at great expense, remember the tts have way more money than other parties, to key marginal seats around the country. Not as the dear old liberals do with their battlebuses to spread their party political message but to specifically supply support for individual tt candidates with targeted stuff for that constituency which should then be included in the local candidates expenses, and wasn’t.

Now having been found to be ne’er do wells they lie: oh we’ve complied with all the commissions requests for information, bollocks, needed court orders to get the info. Much of the online guff spread during the election has mysteriously been deleted. They say the guidelines need to be clarified despite them clearly flouting clear current guidelines. They say “ooh look at the other parties, they do the same”. Actually they don’t do the same, much as drumf and the republicans lie, cheat, smear, bully and slander their opponents way more than their opponents so do the tories. Politicians generally get tarred with the same brush but the tts, the republicans, fucking farage, drumf the brexiters and all their ilk are way more tarred and splatter the rest with their shit. This is important for people to properly understand yet sadly with us all in our own little bubbles won’t happen.

Anyway, it may well be the case that this nefarious activity by the tts swayed people’s votes in key marginals at the last election. And that led to the tts winning, and then brexit, and then may and co and then the Scots wanting out and a country and it’s people ever more divided and angry. But who cares, they always do this, and with the likes of evan poodle davis few of us will be any the wiser.

Still, it’s good to see that the weird looking wilders of The Netherlands has not succeeded in spreading his poison too much this time.

And my team of last season are the only one amongst all the really wealthy teams of our premier league still in the European cup. Some things can still bring a smile, just like all the lovely plants growing in our garden.


Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.


After the coup the knocks……

So I’m worried, just been reading this:

View story at Medium.com

scroll through until you reach ‘Trial Balloon for a Coup’

……….and am now waiting for the knock on the door…………

knock knock

who’s there?

just open the door

Anyway, whilst waiting for the knock and before doing my Qi Gong I have just signed the following as I like the idea of keeping my European citizenship:


Paul, my T’ai Chi master, is taking his teaching into a local primary school and is getting remarkable results and I am definitely of the opinion that it could be used in all schools, give all the young folk a ‘brain break’.

School of hard knocks.

Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.