Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

December 27, 2013

Duty, and the death of the MIL joke


MIL = Mother In Law BTW

When my grandfather (on one side) was 14 he ran away to sea, signed up for the Royal Navy, ended up at the Battle of Jutland, WWI, then when WWII broke out, having spent a lifetime at sea in the wavy navy, and being too old for the regulars, he and his sons all marched down to the recruiting office, on the day war broke out… in WWII he had three tankers torpedoed out from under him, Murmansk run, so even if the torps and fuel didn’t get ya, the arctic seas would, but he survived all three, and went on to die from bowel cancer, probably brought on by years of chewing tobacco, as you couldn’t smoke on a tanker.

One of those sons who signed up with him on day 1 ended up in Singapore at the fall of same, and instead of being evacuated or left to surrender, he was told to stay behind and report on the Japs movements, after being reported missing presumed killed in action, he turned up at Calcutta 11 months later, having made his own way there, in wartime, and when he got there he had to steal rations for three months, until they could confirm his identity, he was reported MIA/KIA see…

Now we can sit here and dismiss the obvious courage, bravery and remarkable resilience and tenacity of these people as fucking stupid, having one tanker torpedoed out from under you is bad enough, going back for two more helpings…  being told to stay behind and report on the japs is bad enough, somehow managing to survive and make your way 2,000 miles through jungles and mangroves in enemy territory, only to be told you were dead and not entitled to any rations or new kit (clothes) to stick around so they can decide you are actually alive, to spend another three years in service for these same fucks….

Thing is, they weren’t actually dumber than you and I, and in many cases they weren’t actually less informed and worldly wise than you and I, they knew “our” leaders were as bad as “theirs”, they knew in all probability they were going to die, but they still went… and it wasn’t for the money or glory, there was none of either. Seriously, the monetary compensation, IF it was paid, would not have kept them in food.

They certainly were not mentally less intelligent than you and I, in many ways, in all these things, you could make a good argument that the opposite is true.

So… WHY????

Why was a little word called duty, and having spoken to these people first hand about this very subject, duty was never to king and country, or merrie olde england, or any of that shit.

Duty was to “a way of life“, they were fighting to preserve the way of life they had known, at the local, personal and family level, before hostilities started.

They were fighting to preserve the life they knew when they grew up.

In this, they, and all men everywhere who went to war, failed utterly.

It is this very disenchantment for example, that some of the GI’s returning to the good ole USA after WW2, felt so bitterly that they used their de-mob money to buy motorcycles, which meant ex WD Harleys and Indians, and thus was formed the Hells Angels.

The world my grandad returned to after WWI was very different from the world he left in 1915, and not merely because he left as a boy of 14 and returned as a man of 18/19, many of the things he fought for, out of duty, were gone by the time he got back.

The same thing happened to him again in WWII, and to his sons for the first time, the world they came back to in 1945 was a very different place from the one they left in 1939.

And no, it wasn’t changed because entire streets or local regiments had ceased to exist, it changed because of a mixture of demographic shift (all the men off to war) of technology emergence and “what most people on the home front did for work day to day” changed when the country gets on to a war footing, and all those things enable huge socio-political changes to be rammed through.

Tom goes off to endure 4 years of hardships to preserve the way things were back home, eg for his sweetheart Jane, meanwhile Jane has been trained and got a job as a welder, she is now earning, literally, more money than Tom, plus all that goes along with spending all day in a working environment and not a domestic one…. Tom comes back to find that;

  1. The old way of life is gone
  2. Tom own personal role / space / niche is gone
  3. nobody gives a fuck about HIS sacrifice, because THEY have been making bombers and suchlike all day, and getting well paid
  4. Jane as he knew her is gone
  5. New Tom doesn’t fit in either

“Duty” just died in Tom.

I am here to tell you, you are probably more likely, if you were able to magic up some brain scanning device that monitored me 24/7 even deep down to the animal subconscious levels, you are probably more likely to find thoughts of me wondering what it is like to suck cock, than you are to find thoughts of me thinking about DUTY.

This is, probably, the most important thing that our leaders have never read, I’m denied my opportunity to do my duty by my own son, my flesh and blood, so I take that sense of duty out back and BANG BANG, double tap to the head, done properly, side to side low down on the brain, then just because what the fuck, might as well, empty the rest of the clip into the body.

Duty is dead.

In fact, it is worse than that, IT IS AGAINST MY BEST INTERESTS for me to individually attempt to preserve the way of life I find myself in now.

This is the TRUE reason empires like Rome fell, forget all that jingoistic crap economists and historians and military jugheads tell ya, not saying all that shit doesn’t play a part, it does, but it is not decisive… it fell apart from the bottom because the guys at the bottom had no interest in maintaining the way of life they lived in.

Take a look at people like DMJ, a reasonably well educated white man, who has been through the best indoctrination money can buy (apart maybe from ten years in the slammer) the military…. a champion of the 2010’s decade of western life he is not.

I’m being totally fucking serious here, the guy SHOULD be at the apex of those fighting to preserve ever last little things about our current way of life… because if you can’t manipulate guys like him who have been through the carrot and stick indoctrination school to buy the kool aid and bathe in it, like brawndo, you are F U C K E D….

Historians generally, and military and political historians particularly, vastly under-estimate the significance of things like the Spanish Civil War…

Quite apart from the literally hundreds of thousands of serving regulars from various other countries who were sent to fight, the REALLY significant stuff is things like the English, who, despite it actually being made a SERIOUS fucking crime to go and fight, over 4,000 went and did just that, at their own expense.

And of course as the Spanish Civil War ended, WW2 started.

And today we underplay the significance of those who make their own way to Syria or Palestine or Afdiggastan to fight.

NONE of these people have a way of life at home they want to preserve as a priority.

Duty… it is gone, dead, do not underestimate the deep and lasting significance of that.

Which brings me to….

Mother in Law jokes.

You just don’t hear them any more, and in fact a well known but now dead comic told me many years ago that you did not hear them in the pre WW2 days either, it took that peculiar transition period in the decline of Family 1.0 / Marriage 1.0 / Community 1.0 where, as we all know, women end up looking and acting like their mother’s, which didn’t matter back in the day when a man was the head of his own household, but later, that changed and then…, the relationshit with the wimminz after the period when the man was head of his own household had to stay intact long enough for the man to grow tired of the mother in law, today marriages are too transient, if the marriage doesn’t last 20 years you can’t have a 20 year relationshit with the mother in law, and see the marriage lasting long enough to see your wife become her mother, and start telling mother in law jokes.

Mother in law jokes were the canary in the coal mine, were we smart enough to know it at the time, and again, the guys put up with it, that little word again, duty.

 

September 29, 2013

How times change.


I just met some stupid skank who is going on a solo backpacking trip to Thailand, she is excited but one part of the deal that gets no thought or attention whatsoever is the flight over there.

When I was a baby it was called Siam, and the flight was three days, not so much because of the top speed and range of the piston powered DC-9 and Constellations and Super Connies of the day, (There were deHavilland Comets too, but not enough to run all the services) basically converted wartime bombers, but it was hugely expensive, so certain minimum levels of comfort and relaxation were required, and of course instruments weren’t that good, the flight navigator had to actually navigate, albeit with RDF assistance, so if you were flying London to Singapore it was two overnight stops in hotels.Air_France,_Sud-Est_SE-161_Languedoc

The alternative was going by ship, I did that once too, 28 days journey time.

You could write a letter, par avion, on thin cigarette paper notepaper, often blue, and the envelopes had a red and blue pattern around the edge, and would take a week to arrive.

If it was really urgent you could send a telegram, that should get there in a day or so.

*BIG* businesses with offices around the globe by the late seventies had the Telex, think of it as a 50 baud point to point SMS.

We had one of the new fangled e-lec-tro-nic transistor (as opposed to thermionic valve) radios, it was a good one, it had a whole twelve transistors inside it, it said so on the front, and you could get long wave, medium wave, and short wave, (for the BBC world service) and of course it was all AM amplitude modulation, nobody had heard of frequency modulation.

We got our first TV in time to watch the moon landings, 425 line VHF band with a tuning dial and variable capacitor just like a radio, black and white of course…lol… and you could tell when any of the neighbours cars points and coil ignition systems needed a service…lol

We got a phone then too, you know, in our own house, in the hallway… I can still remember the number, 811, of course if you wanted to ring anyone outside the town you lived in you still had to dial the operator, (“Whitehall 1212” to be connected to scotland yard) as STD standard trunk dialling or direct dialling hadn’t come in yet, (it actually didn’t cover 100% of the UK until the late seventies) hell, the ability to direct dial local numbers without needing an operator to make the circuit was all new…

You could actually navigate by the phone lines, because the cross trees and insulators were always on the same side with respect to London.GlenTay Train wreck 4

When I went to school you got handed a little book of tables, log, sin, cos, tan, etc That and a pencil and a piece of paper was how you did your workings, if you needed to work faster you could use a slide rule, three digit precision pretty much, but in reality that was enough for most real world calculations.

This was all long long long before you actually saw the first pong game in the shops, or the first LED digital watches, or anything else to do with the silicon chip, which was still a pipe dream.

As a boy from the age of 12 onwards I made *many* solo and unaccompanied journeys comprising of a train from wherever I was in the UK to either Reading or London, grab a bus or a cab from there to Heathrow, find my flight, check in, board it and arrive at a destination half way around the world.

By *many* I mean when the then BOAC started their first jet services in the late fifties, even though 99.9% of the routes and flights were still piston & propeller driven, there were a great many Englishmen working abroad in all corners of the Globe, doing what Englishmen did, building the railways and mines and shipyards and so on, pretty much all ex-servicemen, and of course they all had kids, and so it was quite common for those kids to attend school “back home” and fly out for school holidays, depending on how senior (well paid) your folks were and how much they disliked you, you could get flown out once, twice or three times a year, so you could easily do six flights between London and Singapore for example per year… so BOAC brought in a thing to keep all these little shits well behaved called the junior jet club, I think 7 was the lower age limit, and every flight you got 5 minutes in the cockpit in flight and your little book stamped, and you got certificates at 125k, 250k, and 500k miles…. of course it didn’t take long to add that up, and by the time you were 12 you’d dumped all that crap and the stupid “unaccompanied minor” lapel pin that meant the BOAC staff would look out for you…. do you know where you are flying to little boy, would you like a drink, lol

Tickets and all were of course pre-paid and pre-booked, but looking back I used to carry astonishingly little cash, probably fifty bucks in today’s money.

In theory you could make an international phone call, but I personally had never heard of anyone who had done such a thing, and I knew people who owned and ran fucking huge multinational companies, either my dad worked directly for them or I knew their kids…

I could go on and on and on, but, you get the idea.

—————————————————————————————

Perhaps, just perhaps, it is because I come from a time when communication was either face to face, or slooooow, you didn’t expect instant gratification, it could take a week or more for the letter to get there, and a week or more for the reply to get back..

So on the one hand I find the whole modern what the fuuuuuck!!!! I sent the cunt a message three whole fucking minutes ago and I still haven’t had a fucking reply, what the fuuuuuck!!! rather amusing and stupid, on the other hand I do come from a time when each communication was considered valuable, so SOME FUCKING RESPONSE would be nice, not some “lol yeah” either, a fucking response, with content and meaning and information.

In part this is because of the modern obsession with “multitasking”, but of course there ain’t no such animal, all there is is “time slicing” and if you find yourself unable to hold six face to face conversations simultaneously or make six phone calls simultaneously or play six games of chess simultaneously, then it really is no wonder that you fail utterly at using a variety of different methods to;

  1. whatsapp person #1
  2. sms person #2
  3. sms person #3
  4. web/mail/portal person #4
  5. email person #5
  6. kik person #6

all the while checking fuckbook and twatter and so on.

If you chop the time slice for any of those jobs below the minimum required to do that stage of that job properly, then you just added to the noise and detracted from the signal for all the rest of it too.

I see this ALL THE FUCKING TIME, particularly with wimminz, but to be fair not a hell of a lot less with guys, they are operating under information overload and as a result the instant you drop off the mental radar you are forgotten.

It is the same process whether you are waiting for an update to a job in a work email or waiting to her from a skank on a fucking site, you just may give more of a shit or be more annoyed by one or the other, because it matters more to you personally at that moment, but, to the other person involved you are just noise that fell off the radar.

You were lost in the immediacy and urgency of the moment.

It’s nothing personal, you fell off her radar, someone else stayed on and got their balls drained.

It’s nothing personal, in fact, that is exactly it, the time slices are cut so thin there is no room left for anything personal, and so the obsession everyone has is with what they do not have, not what they do have.

Apart from an empty belly, I have yet to meet a dog, or any other animal come to that, who spends any time at all worrying about what they do not have, and they are better for it.

I could sit here and make no changes of any material kind whatsoever to my life, and start worrying about what I do not have, including all the hundreds of wimminz that have not sent me meaningful personal communications, and ruin my life by doing so, because I would end up unhappy with it.

Or, I can sit here and be a dog, actually I have everything I fucking need, hell, I have things that were beyond any science fiction to the little boy I once was, and be extremely happy and content with life.

Sure, there are things I do not have, but the lack of them does not detract from what I do have.

The bitch who started this thread off, her “backpacking holiday” will be centred around her fucking iphone, and taking selfies, and updating her fuckbook page, and roaming charges and wifi hotspots and mains charging adapters, and her life is sliced into time slots so thin she might as well have stayed at home and joined Second Life, because lets face it, her first and only real life is passing her by in multi-tasked slices too small to achieve anything of merit.

 

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