Please forgive me if this makes my blood boil. The BBC have reported that Ofcom have upheld a complaint against a Channel 4 documentary called the “Great Global Warming Swindle”. They say that it was not impartial. Now hang on, just one, blinking minute. Every single programme, news report or proclamation about global warming fails to be impartial. They dictate that there is Global Warming, despite evidence to the contrary, they never give an impartial view of the situation.
I refused to believe any of it before, and I most definitely refuse to believe any of it now. In order to get a good understanding of any situation it is important to have all the facts available. Failure to have all the facts leads to an impartial view of a given situation. So telling us it’s “x”, without saying anything else, is an indoctrinating view. It’s unfair that we should have it pushed upon us.
Anyway, no doubt someone will come on here, with their own views and tell me I’m wrong. Well that’s my privilege to be wrong in their eyes. I think they are wrong, again this is my privilege. If you don’t agree with me, good for you, I just hope the disagreement is of your own opinion, and not that formed of somebody else’s view that you’ve chosen to adopt as yours.
Note – I wrote this in July but for some dumb reason I didn’t publish it.
So I had to go into London yesterday… which was interesting. Firstly I almost missed the train thanks to stupid traffic lights and stupid parking meters with no indicaiton of payment fees. Bit annoyed at that.
Still, it was strange being back in my old stomping grounds. Stopping for a drink in Leon on the Strand then going over to Bank to mee the wonderfull JJ for lunch. It’s amazing how much of a tonic a good friend can offer. I miss my daily conversations with JJ. She made me realise everything I’ve been stressing over wasn’t exactly my fault and that other people should be held accountable for their behavior. Soothing if nothing else.
Got back and my back ached, my legs ached, my feet ached and my head ached. I woke up this morning feeling rather icky. Still a walk with pupzilla (all be it a short one) was very restorative. I felt a lot better following it.
Being in the country changes you. Your mind set is different and things that were important before are no longer so. You realise that quality of life is more important than other things. The balance changes and it soothes you. Well it soothes me. I’m not a city person. I go back and I see tourists, I see people as potential terrorists and I see people who are work obsessed.
The terrorist thing was interesting. I got on the Central line at Bank and sat opposite someone and my hackles went up. They never went like that before. I never looked at someone and thought “are you going to blow this train up, or are you thinking about doing it?” I just got on with it. Now I feel a little safer being out of London and not a constant target for someone who wants to do something silly.
As I said… being in the country changes a person.
My dog is a whore. We took her out to Bourton on the Water and the Cotswold Wildlife Park today. She was the biggest attraction at both places. With children, parents and foreign tourists stopping to pat her on the head. I’ll give her credit that she was very very well behaved.
Two observations, our dog is not male, why do people immediately assume every dog they see is male. Wouldn’t it be easier to refer to her as “it” until they know the sex. It’s far less offensive. I wouldn’t go around assuming your child is one sex or another, kindly don’t do the same to our dog. Two, why does everyone ask how old she is then say she’ll be a big dog? Gah!!
So, if I had a pound for every time someone asked me how old he is… I’d have about £100 I think. Next time I’m going to tell them “He’s a 10 year old pygmy Golden Retriever, bred as an experiment, but they decided against further breeding programmes so there are only six in the world. He’s been this colour all his life. Oh and the breeding programme included no visible male organs…” Sometimes you just want to slap your forehead.
Oh and she has my full and unwavering permission to “see off” another person who has the gall to call her a bloody “Labradoodle” she’s a Golden Retriever. A beautiful Golden Retriever at that. I did tell her out loud, so the moron who had the gall to insult her, that she was a Golden Retriever and don’t listen to anyone who tells her otherwise!
For those of you who have read “Marley and Me” you will know that the dog got expelled from obedience school. I suspect Lily (aka Pupzilla) will get expelled as well. Our first class last night. First thing she does? Stands up and lets out the biggest burp I’ve ever heard her emit. I am not joking. It was a one big buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrpppppppppppppppppp. R and I had our obligatory “Face / Palm” moment, i.e. we both put our palms to our foreheads, then tried very hard not to laugh.
Following on from the mighty belch, she wouldn’t stop barking. We cannot work out what was up with the little monster. All she did was bark and pull on the lead. Epic Fail dog! To finish it all off nicely, she wee’d on the floor. The dog is going to get expelled. We shall see how she does with her homework this week. Which I’ve yet to work out as I’ve not read it.
More tales of Puppy school next weekend. She’s going to a dog sitter overnight on Thursday as we’re off to the Festival of Speed next Friday.
Well technically I was sitting inside, only it was inside of my conservatory, with the doors wide open. It is the only place I feel safe enough to sit in a bikini. So that is where I sat. With the sun, and the sound of the birds, with planes scratching the sky overhead and the farmer in his tractor on the back field. Bliss.
I also had a book, it was a bloody exceptional book. You should go and find a copy (I’m not sure that it’s out yet). It’s called the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer. Utterly genius book.
