Welp, the Scots are at it today. If you’re wondering why you haven’t seen much speculation yet, there’s a very tight embargo on election results until the whole vote is in. The announcement is expected in the morning, around 7:30 or before. That’s in the wee hours for most of my readership.
I’m going to go out on a limb and predict the No vote will win — not because I’m terribly confident, but because occasionally it’s fun to post something that will be definitively proven right or wrong within a few hours. It’s like playing Internet Pundit Chicken.
I base that on the fact No has been ahead all along, and still is. Just. Though Yes has had a tremendous last minute surge, it’s mostly among the yoot. And we know young people are excitable and love change but don’t turn up reliably at the ballot box. Still, they’re rounding people up and turning them out to vote, so I could have it wrong.
Had Scots politicians handled this better, they would end up in a stronger position, no matter how the vote turns out. Everyone in the UK is pissed off at Westminster and feels powerless, poorly represented and condescended to by that small bunch of snot-nosed mediocrities in government (of all parties). They could have capitalized on that and parted but stayed friends.
But no. Scots politicians are also snot-nosed mediocrities of the same general political class and they ran this thing on a lot of lefty anti-Tory bullshit and traditional bad feelings. If Scotland stays in the union, they may find Dave has promised them a whole bunch of stuff he can’t deliver, on account of all-around fuck-off-Scotty feelings in England (in fact, the one awesome silver lining is a tiny chance this referendum could ultimately topple Cameron).
If they opt out, things will get very chilly indeed. Lots of bruises and bad ideas. A commenter on Hot Air described this outcome as Venezuela with haggis.
Not too smug, though. The financial turbulence could be rough on the only constituency that matters — Badger House.
p.s. Re: the French caption. In the days of the guillotine, a favorite tattoo among French career criminals was a dotted line around the neck and “coupé ici”. I just. I dunno. Thought it was. Funny. I guess.
September 18, 2014 — 7:55 pm
Tonight was the second and final night of my first aid course. I gave CPR to the dummy. I passed the exam. Still, god help you if you have a heart attack in front of me.
So, a quickie. I know we’ve subjected soldiers to dangerous experiments in the past. MK Ultra comes to mind. Standing close to nuclear testing, as above. I always thought these acts were mitigated because the military really didn’t know how dangerous they were when they went on. Probably.
I also assumed there’d since been…I dunno. Legislation or a regulation or something to allow soldiers to opt out of dangerous experiments not centrally important military service. I mean, those things have generated so much controversy.
So, how the fuck can we knowingly send thousands of soldiers into the middle of an epidemic hot zone for reasons not obviously vital to American security? I mean, that’s not what they signed up for. That’s not what the military is for, is it? Is there a mechanism to opt out? Also, by the way, it’s a really, really bad idea.
I haven’t seen anyone else asking this question, so I have to assume it’s an incredibly dumb question. But it’s mine and I’m asking it.
September 17, 2014 — 10:13 pm
I suppose ducks’ll eat anything, but they seemed madly keen on Doritos.
We’re having a proper Indian Summer here, so we snuck out to Bodiam castle this afternoon to take advantage. We picked a nice spot on a bench with a view of the castle, unpacked our picnic lunch and the grounds crew parked a truck between us and the castle and began weed-whacking the bank. It’s been that kind of a day, really.
Still, I got to feed Doritos to a bunch of ducks, so not a total loss.
*picture courtesy Uncle B’s fancy new camera.
September 16, 2014 — 9:40 pm
I don’t usually opt for a female character in video games that give a choice, but something about the face of the default male Shepard in the Mass Effect games kind of creeped me out, so I played Mass Effect 2 as this chick here. My Stoaty Shepard is pretty badass; somehow I can’t see her getting up in the morning and putting on mascara and a little eye shadow. Maybe machines do that in the future.
I’m finally playing the third and final installment of Mass Effect. You start (optionally) by importing your character from Mass Effect 2. One of things that gets carried over is which of your crew members you’ve had affairs with.
Wait, what? This was an option? How on earth…?
Trust me to carry my social ineptitude into video games.
September 15, 2014 — 9:24 pm
Phew. Sorry for lameness this week. I’ve alternated between screaming busy and lying on the beach like a clubbed baby seal.
One more ordeal — we have to go to London for the day tomorrow — and then I plan to revert to the useless sack of wastrel mustelid you all know and love.
Oh, the Scottish thing? Absolutely neck and neck. The latest polling has it 48/48 among Scots. But the voting is not just among Scots, it’s any EU citizen living in Scotland, and the outsiders are slightly inclined toward No. It’s a bit nerve wracking.
A Yes vote could have some ugly short-term financial consequences for us. It could have better medium- and long-term consequences for us, as the rest of Britain moves a big step to the right by process of elimination.
You should hear some of the hare-brained socialist booshwa they’re coming up with up there, should the Yes campaign prevail. They think they’re going to float a lefty utopia on whisky and North Sea Oil.
They only joined the Union in the first place because Scotland went bankrupt. The nobles lost their kilts in South American investments in the late 16th C and graciously accepted an English bailout. In other words, they’ll be back. Plus ça change.
Good weekend, all!
September 12, 2014 — 11:00 pm
Meh. I hate this fucking day. I’m still sore, but I’ve said all I want to say about it. But I don’t like to let it pass without acknowledgement, either. So, consider this acknowledgement.
Talk about whatever you like in the comments.
September 11, 2014 — 8:01 pm
Just got in from Part 1 of a first aid course. It’s a work requirement — or, really, a work ‘strong suggestion’ — but I don’t mind. I’ve always felt uncomfortable that I’ve never taken a proper course including CPR. I’ve read that CPR is nearly always doomed and pointless, but I’d still feel bad if somebody croaked in front of me and I hadn’t done jack.
Not a bad course, but it’s late and I’m tired and I still have stuff to do, so allow me link you back to this post I wrote some years ago. I saw our classroom had a case marked SOMETHING-SOMETHING-ANNIE, so I bet next time I’ll finally have my chance to play smoochies with l’Inconnue de la Seine.
Go read the post and it’ll make sense. Also, you’re looking kind of pale — you feel alright?
September 10, 2014 — 9:03 pm
I wonder if these stories are real, or if they just pay some poor bastard to use his mug for the purpose.
September 9, 2014 — 9:18 pm
‘Nother beach day, while the weather holds. Beaches along our coast are mostly shingle, but that’s not nearly as uncomfortable as you might think. You can wriggle a bit and make quite a nice, comfy weasel nest. For your butt.
I’m soooo not ready to dive back into the week yet, so let’s talk about the weather. How’s yours? I thought we’d had it a couple of weeks ago when it turned damp and cold, but we’ve since had a bit of Indian Summer.
September 8, 2014 — 9:21 pm
NATO is meeting in Wales at the moment, so this doof is over our side. It was reported on the radio this afternoon that so many things are happening in NATO’s territory, there’s a chance the meeting will hold Obama’s interest this time. That, ordinarily, he finds these meetings so boring, he sends his aids out to buy crossword puzzle magazines to get him through.
I shit you not. It was a straight news broadcast, so maybe I…surely I misheard…?
You know, if everything bores you, it isn’t an indication that you’re extra super smart. If the most important job in the Western world seems beneath you, you aren’t a sooper genius. You’re a malignant narcissist and borderline retard.
So, anyhoo, changing the subject…RIP Joan Rivers. The way they were reporting the story sounded bad to me — like, it doesn’t sound as if she ever recovered consciousness — so I’m not in the least surprised.
Time enough to queue it up — Tomorrow, 6WBT, Dead Pool Soixante Neuf.
September 4, 2014 — 9:25 pm