The Beard Blog

Peace and Beard Love

2011-12-18T12:43:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to get the tweet contained in this URL: click here retweeted in every country in the world. If you are on Twitter and you think you can help, please let me know. The countries I have retweeted in are listed below. I will update as I go on:-

1 England

2 Ni

3 Scotland

4 Wales

5 Australia

6 The USA

7 Canada

8 South Africa

9 Bahrain

10 France

11 Ireland

12 Switzerland

13 Germany

14 Holland

15 Mozambique

15 Denmark

16 Finland

17 Singapore

18 Serbia

19 Japan

20 Thailand

21 Brasil
22 Tunisia
23 Spain

24 Tasmania

Thanks you special people,

The Beard.

Pater noster, qui es in caelis

2011-10-18T03:36:00.000-07:00

In recognition of the religious slant that the English version of "occupy this and that" (mainly Wall Street) protest has suddenly gained, I have composed this short prayer to be recounted at the alter of socialism:-

Dear protestors who art at St Pauls’,

shallow be your name.

Our kingdom’s gone,

If your will be done,

The USSR, as it was, is your idea of heaven,

Give us this day a fucking break,

Don’t forgive us our debts,

as you also have not forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation to hit you,

but deliver us from your effluence.

For thine is the media,

and the power, and the intelligentsia,

for ever and ever

Amen.

Beardcall - get more followers

2011-09-24T04:27:00.000-07:00

Sorry for this, it's not my usual blog style. I've just written this to make my Twitter life a bit easier.
I recently instituted the beardcall as a way of getting new, active, human followers. It has been a great success with the first beardcall obtaining up to 100 new followers per beardcaller.

All you have to do to join in is to tweet me the hashtag #beardcall, between the announced times. I will then put all the names into a list. I tweet the list to all my followers. Everyone in the list agrees to follow each other. So let's say 100 people are in the list, and they aren't already following each other, then they should each obtain 99 new followers.

There are a number of ways you can find the #beardcall list, even if you didn't take part:-
1. Use the search bar in Twitter to search for #beardcall and then find the list by scrolling through "all" tweets. Don't use the "top" tweets search. The list should be obvious as a number of tweets with the tag #beardcall at the end. This didn't work on the night of #beardcall as it was inundated with so many tweets it developed an over capacity error. However it should work the next day.

2. Go into my profile and then into "my tweets", then scroll down for the list.

3. As the list is tweeted by me, simply favourite each tweet, then you can view them (and follow) all at your leisure (from the "my favourites" list). I think this is probably the best way to do it whilst it's happening live.

The best way to make the most of #beardcall is to both be on the list and follow everyone on the list. Several tweeps RT the list too, so you should be able to get more followers than the actual number of tweeps on the list, as their followers also follow you.

There are only 3 rules:-
1. Tweet me #beardcall between the announced times (intend this to be Fridays between 7pm and 8pm).
2. Follow everyone on the #beardcall list (intend to tweet this from 8pm onwards)
3. You must follow The Beard (@Das_Beard)

Thanks for listening: The Beard. {;~{)}

Double Concentrate

2011-09-20T11:17:00.001-07:00

This is a public health broadcast. I am here to warn you about the dangers of a new consumer product. The evils of which have not been known to this planet, or any other until this date. The pox of the food stalls and the poisoner of young children: double concentrate juice.

It seems innocuous and timid on the shelf of the supermarket, perhaps even helpful, after all, who wouldn’t want a bottle of juice that lasted twice as long as a normal bottle?

Not until the corporations have confused your desires does the true ugliness of their invention reveal itself: the true horror of absent mindedly drinking slightly stronger orange squash than usual!!!!!!

What can you do to prevent this from happening to you? the obvious answer is not to buy the thing in the first place, but then you wouldn’t have a bottle with at least 60 servings of juice inside it. So that would be utterly stupid. So the only option left open is to acquire the only thing that can possibly defend you against it.

You lucky reader, know the Beard and The Beard knows the answer. All you need to protect yourselves is to surround yourselves with friends and family, who are always prepared to scream “IT’S DOUBLE CONCENTRATE!!!! FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY, MAKE SURE YOU DON’T PUT TOO MUCH IN!!!!!” in a manner that is entirely without justification (and should I add; annoying?), every single time you pour a glass of it.

This, and only this, will keep you from the agonising fate of drinking slightly stronger squash than usual.

No need to thank me, you can thank me by keeping safe, and remember: Double the concentrate, double the danger.

Cognitive Dissonance

2011-09-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

You won’t believe what happened to me. I was sitting reading some current affairs Blog, when I came across a horrific story of oppression and Human Rights abuses. The writing was very powerful and soon got me whipped up into a political frenzy. Not like me I know, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for good writing.

The piece told me of a small group of people from an ethnic minority who were facing a bit of trouble over their choices of where to live. They had been persecuted throughout the ages, and, at times, genocide had been exercised against them. The article accepted that other people from their group had been naughty at times, but you can’t hold that against them forever, right?

This particular group had beaten all the odds to get themselves a bit of of land, but had used it illegally. Not a big deal really, but they had held onto it, ilegally, for quite some time as they had nowhere else to go.

Everyone from the surrounding regions were completely against them, and were all actively tying to get rid of them. Eventually, even their own government had taken legal action against them, and had prepared to remove them from the homes that they had made for themselves. I got all liberal and upset and started to get myself in a right old leftie tiz about it (why couldn’t they just leave them alone to live in peace? A bit of illegality never hurt anyone, did it?).

I felt absolutely compelled to defend these people, but I couldn’t think who would help me. I knew most of my friends would be completely against the ilegal use of land, so I decided to get the lefties on board and went to find them. I looked in all the usual places, beatnik poetry clubs, anarchy groups, world music record shops, and vegan cookery lessons. I spoke with hundreds of them, but couldn’t find a single one who was willing to come with me. I was completely shocked.

I got very dejected about it, concluding that it just wasn’t that important after all. I had really just assumed the liberals would be up for it.

I suppose that they thought it'd be too hot to travel to Israel at this time of year.

In any event they all had prior engagements watching Emmerdale Farm, in Basildon or something - probably completely different thing to be fair, not connected in any way, not even associated to the same prinicples involved, and certainly not coming to a completely different conclusion about it.

In the end I gave it up as a bad job.

Cheer Up

2011-09-12T02:54:00.000-07:00

Apparently around 88% of us feel less happy than we did before the recession hit, according to CSV who quote an ICM poll (describe themselves as The Country’s leading volunteer and training charity).

Well, fuck me? What is surprising that a charity spent money on telling us what we already know: people are rarely happier when they have less money - they must’ve had a team of monkeys working around the clock on that one.

Perhaps the only surprise to come out of the poll was that 12% of people surveyed actually felt happier. These are definitely the anti capitalists hippies who are too smug to notice the whole raft of word conflicts occurring as a direct result.

It’s hard to get solid data on happiness because different groups tend to distort the info. For example the BBC used this in 2006 to show that the US has maintained (or even lost) a significant degree of happiness, whilst GDP increased, since 1957 - so money don’t make you happy, right?

As this study in the US shows there was a huge spike in happiness levels in the US in the 50’s which actually declined before leveling out. So being at 1950 levels of happiness is actually quite good, although I accept not necessarily linked to GDP. I suppose this is the leftist way of telling us we don’t need so much money, and shouldn’t be too upset if the reds tax us to dust.

What is also funny about the US study is that it shows people score praying at a similar level to lunch. There’s got to be a few lies in there. Eating is pretty much better than everything for me, even having sex makes me want to eat a kebab.

However, generally speaking people do seem to be fucking upset, about pretty much fucking everything, at the moment. Now I’m going to break one of my own rules here, and blame this on one thing: -

The illusion of the possibility of financial equality.

I put it on it’s own because I want it to stand out. I did try a red font with gold glitter, but it started to look a bit silly, so I’m sticking with black. You can cut it out at home if you like and do that, but I’m trying to be serious, so don’t impose your artistic sensibilities on me, luvvie.

Try any one of the better known Liberal commentators, who do seem to have the floor at the moment, you will be able to find comment about the lack of financial equality in the UK.

In addition to this, the glorification of all things materialistic in any one of the red tops, leads us to think that we should all be rich. We should all be at the top of our tree.

One of the guys studying this recently is Charles Seaford, head of the Centre for Well Being at the New Economics Foundation. He said having enough money to live seemed important, but "it seems that national wellbeing depends on quite a high level of equality" which sends the point home for me.

Basically our happiness depends on a fucking pipe dream. Don’t get me wrong here, everyone should have the same opportunities, regardless of race, creed etc, BUT everyone cannot expect to be able to achieve everything they want. Not everyone can expect to have the same success as their neighbour. What we should be doing is learning to live with it.

Here’s a little scenario to demonstrate my point. It’s The Olympics, you’re watching the 100m. The race starts. All the guys sprint to the end, at the speed of a coked up gazelle, and one narrowly beats the second place. He’s overjoyed, he’s got what he worked for.

The second one is crying, because he didn’t win. He didn’t achieve what the guy in front did. Not unusual? of course not.

Now look around you in the stadium, how many other people are crying because they didn’t win the race? None. Not a fucking one. But why not? the guy who is the second fastest in the world is devastated by it, but you aren’t even mildly upset. In fact the guy who came last isn’t crying either? why the fuck not? The whole world saw him get his ass handed to him by Usain Bolt, but not a tear. Only number 2 is actually crying. Why the fuck is this craziness happening? Why isn’t the whole world in abject depression? Well the answers easy: because noone else expected to win. The only guy that’s upset is the one who thought he should have won.

This is the affliction we are all suffering at the moment. We all think we can have it all. We all think we should win the race. We get told by people, who should know better, that we can because they confuse what the redistribution of wealth really means. It means that most people in our country would have less. And as demonstrated above, they’ve convinced you it can happen, without you having less - the “rich” are going to fund it all.

Sounds good? sounds sexy? more money and only those pig dog capitalist bastards are going to suffer? Why didn’t we do this sooner? firstly if you exchange your work for money (wages) then you’re part of the system that they dislike.

Secondly, different people are simply better at holding onto, and making more of, their money than others. If you believe in freedom, then you should accept that this should be the case. And if you want social mobility, you can’t take money off people at an alarming rate to fund anyone but the most needy, because money is what makes the world go round.

To end on a high note, let’s take a quick look at a very crude model of complete income redistribution.

According to The World Bank (oh yes, there’s a World Bank, presumably lends to alien cultures?) the global GDP is $58.26 trillion, or $58, 260, 000, 000, 000. What if I told you I was in charge, and I was going to dish this out equally between you all? You’d be happy? let’s have a look at that. The world population is: 6.775 billion (always rising too, check it out )

Ok so divide the 58.26 trillion, between 6.775 billion. This comes to around $8624. So you’d have an income of $8,624. At todays exchange rate, that would be around: £5458.

It’s worth noting that an income of £5,458 would be well below the standard of poverty in the UK, and is easily exceeded by most incomes of people on full benefits. I think you’d tell me to stick my income redistribution up my arse.

I don’t know what the issue is when we’re all so fucking rich.

God and The Itch

2011-09-05T23:43:00.000-07:00

It has just passed midnight, in the garden of good and evil.

I have a massive day ahead of me and I am characteristically unable to sleep. It’s times like this when I start to question everything that surrounds me, and I rarely come to a cheerful conclusion. So forgive me, my friends, if this post is distinctly more sombre than usual.

For reasons I won’t go into; my main thoughts today have been about death. The one thing that we all owe to God, and we will all be forced to pay. If you think about it in terms of forfeiture avoidance, it’s genius really - make your clients biologically unable to avoid payment.

I’m not really one for talking religion most of the time, but for me thoughts of death and religion are intrinsically linked.

I do consider myself to be a Christian, although I do little to merit the title.

I suppose I try to be good to people, and treat others how I would wish to be treated myself, but I admit that I am not always strong enough to do so.

I do not repent when I should , and I do things wrong, when I have had the foresight and time to know that I shouldn’t. Therefore I do not exactly live my life by Christ’s example.

I believe in God enough to feel that He exists, but not enough not to have to hope that He does as well. Not enough to fear that this may be “it” and that there may be nothing but oblivion waiting for us on the other side.

The 2 men I find most comforting in times like this (at the moment) are quite different but are both scientists none the less. The first would in fact, ironically, be Richard Dawkins who once said that we are to end at the point of our death, this only serves to make our lives more purposeful than if we live on. Our place in the universe having been unique and transitory, like some cosmic snowflake, possibly insignificant, but no less beautiful than any other life simply because we are the only ones who could have lived it.

I do take some comfort from this, but it’s not without it’s faults. Even if I could come to terms with this for myself, I don’t think that I can accept this for my loved ones. For them my feelings are entirely selfish. I don’t want to lose them, and I don’t care how beautiful, or unique their lives maybe, it would never be enough to compensate for their loss. So Dawkin’s statement is ultimately unsatisfactory. It just doesn’t feel right. Maybe I just don’t want to believe it either.

The second is the great philosopher Descartes. He sat in a room with a little stove for ages, thinking like crazy, and came up with a good proof for His existence. This was at the same time of proving that we all exist. This might come as a shock to you, but before he said “cogito ergo sum” in the 17th century, everyone just walked around wondering if everything was really there, or just an illusion created by some naughty demon. Descartes used his noodle to simply think it through*.

He thought that as we have an idea of something that is perfect, the cause of that idea must be perfect. A man is not perfect, because we know that our knowledge increases with time i.e. we cannot be perfect because we don’t know everything. Therefore the perfect thing that gave us the idea, must be something else: God** I find the idea comforting because it actually offers some form of proof. It has been pointed out that Descartes is wrong about knowledge, and that we can never be sure of what we know, but we all think that we are real. We have faith in our senses and surroundings, even though we cannot know if they really exist, so it’s a nice theory as even the criticism requires faith in something.***

Sometimes It’s when I can’t sleep that my thoughts turn to death, as I just can’t stop thinking, and death is the one thing you can’t avoid facing, and it’s the one thing that most people want to avoid. Over time I’ve concluded that it’s why I love film and cinema so much. As Anne Rice suggested; we love entertainers because they distract us from the thought that we will one day end. This possibly goes for everyone we ever loved, even our children. There is of course at least a small part of us that has children to give us the illusion that we are, in some way, immortal.

It is one thing that does cause me to have to hope that God exists, instead of just accepting it. It forces the question how could He love us and also inflict such a terrible fate on all of us? Or even to expose us, and our innocent children, to the risk of death, without a first proving that He exists to us all?

I accept that I may have just missed most of his appearances in my life, and I’m not sure about the times I think I’ve seen His work.

So if you’re listening God, I’m a big fan of your work - I really am, but I’d appreciate it if you could just be a bit more obvious sometimes, because I occasionally get a bit dejected with the way things are run down here. You know? Perhaps take a break from being mysterious from time to time? I think obvious might really be your thing this century. Oh and when I’m having a bit of “me” time in the bathroom, could you just give me a pass on that? Thanks in advance.

I know I maybe wrong, I’m probably just talking bollocks, but I think a death may be too much of a price for a life, given that you can never forget that it’s coming. As the quote goes from Blade Runner “Nothing is worse than having an itch you can never scratch”

*anyone who spent time in HM Forces will tell you: it’s amazing what your mind turns to when you’ve got too much time on your hands.

** I have given my own interpretation of both ideas. Yes I know they may not be wholly accurate, smart arse.

***This ties in with the theory of knowledge, and at the risk of being ripped to shreds by any proper philosophy students, I don’t have the time to try my hand at the entire thing.

Writer's Block

2011-09-04T09:41:00.001-07:00

I've had writer's block for about 2 days. What follows is a visual representation of the imagined affliction:-

Twit Manners (just a quick one)

2011-08-30T13:31:00.000-07:00

The social arena of Twitter is like any other. It has it’s rules and rituals, and if you want to be popular, you’ve got to play the game. If you don’t want to be popular then it doesn’t matter what you think, because noone likes you. I’ll be able to tell you to fucking do one, and you won’t have any friends to go running to. So fucking do one.

In an effort to spread some of my Twit good will, I’m detailing some of my observations on Twitter etiquette below. So do what I say, because it’s rude if you don’t.

Followback

If you’re not famous - you’ve got to follow back. Imagine you’re in a room, and everyone’s talking. Then some gob shite starts talking really loud. When you try to get in on the conversation, they just keep talking, like you weren’t even there. You like the sound of that? No! of course you don’t. Don’t be bloody stupid. So don’t do it to other people.

If you’re a celeb you can get away with it because people are always interested in what you’ve got to say, and don’t expect to talk to you in return.

Also, if you’re a celeb, can you lend me a few quid? I’ll pay you back, honest.

Reply to your @ list

Again, you’re talking to someone and they just don’t reply. It’s just bloody rude. And if you do it to others they might do it to you. The Twitter will be full of people.....not talking to each other, but themselves. That’s the way madness lies.

Don’t send me pictures of your cock

This is perhaps the most important one for me. If I want a picture of your cock, I’ll ask for one. So until that happens, keep the little fella tucked away.

Follow Friday

There is a tradition on Twitter. Every Friday you use the hashtag #ff or something similar, and recommend your favourite followers. This is abused almost every day. To begin with, it’s follow Friday, not Monday, Tuesday, or even Thursday. It’s an “F”......for Friday.

#ff on another day is like saying, “I would have had sex with you last week, but not today”. It’s like sending a birthday card, the month after the birthday. It’s like telling your boyfriend the kid wasn’t his, after he’s paid for it to go to university.

Plus, you shouldn’t do too many of these. You remember that time your girlfriend told you she wasn’t a virgin? Exactly the same as being one #ff in a cast of thousands.

Retweet from Twitter

Twitter is just one big numbers game for everyone. Anyone who says different can’t get many followers, or just can’t count. Twitter retweets give me the right Twit Horn. You can see them flow nicely from your timeline, into your retweets list. Oh but what’s that? someone used TwitLonger, or even TweetDeck to retweet me? Now it’s not in my retweet list? What the fuck?

There’s no sense of achievement unless it’s in my list. It’s not going to turn into a worldwide trend, in the proper manner, otherwise. Dammit, I need to see it in my list!!!!!

Don’t be a Twit Nazi

We fought 2 world wars to defeat the Nazi’s (one really but it’s not as impressive to say one world war, when everyone knows there was at least two). So don’t be a bloody fascist when it comes to other Tweep’s Tweets.

Tweeps have the right to free Tweet. You get to say what you want, and they get to say what they want, on any topic. If it’s good for you it’s good for everyone.

The worst of all of the Nazi Tweeps is the one who threatens to unfollow you over what you said. What’s that you’re going to unfollow me? No please don’t, I’ll feel so alone and vulnerable. I may even cry a tiny little bit, from my eyes and everything. Fuck off you fucking square.

Finally; be nice to people with Beards

Be nice to the Beard, thats it for that one. If you can’t be nice to all bearded people, you can just be nice to me, to make up for your fascist behaviour.

Peace and Beard Love people......Peace and Beard Love.

Darwin, His Mac 10, and Altruism

2011-08-26T02:33:00.000-07:00

Right now I’m watching “The Beautiful Mind” - the story of John Nash, the great mathematician. It got me thinking about how fucked we all are. Stick with me on this, because it’s not obvious what I’m saying until much later.

A long time ago, there was man named Charles Darwin. You’ve probably never heard of him. He looked like Santa and was somewhat geeky. So nobody paid attention to him.

In my mind I’ve reinvented him as a bastion of modern culture, to make him a bit cooler. In my mind he is both Mace Windu and Shaft, yes, in my mind Charles Darwin is: Samuel L Jackson.

One day he published a few ideas about animals and how they reproduce. Not many people read them, even though they told the story about how God invented everything.

One of the very few people to read his stuff was named Herbert Spencer, who had something to say about Darwin’s theory. Spencer didn’t have a beard and was therefore not as intelligent as Darwin, but the Sun even shines on a dog’s arse, and soon Spencer came a’calling for Darwin. And Spencer had a bit of genius in hand. In my mind the conversation (that never actually took place) went a bit like this:-

“Alright Darwin, how’s it going?” Said Spencer. Darwin was a bit irritated as he was in the middle of cleaning his Mac 10.

“What the fuck, Spence?” Said Darwin, whilst stroking the barrel of the Mac 10, with almost paternal care.

“Yeah, your stuff on species and that? It’s fucking shit.” barked Spencer.

“Oh aye, and how’s that then?” Said Darwin, confident that Spencer was just busting his balls, and no scientific riposte to his theories was possible.

“Well, it does a nice job of explaining how those most adapted to survive proliferate, and those that aren’t do not. Because the weaker characteristics die out, due to inability to procreate, and the stronger ones survive, as they last longer, and therefore procreate more. But....” explained Spencer

“Go on” Said Darwin, who appeared to have all but forgotten his Mac 10.

“Doesn’t fucking explain altruism does it?” Continued Spencer. Darwin was worried now. He’d spent so much time explaining why the fittest get more sex, simply because they survive longer to do so, he’d forgotten to point out how such things as altruism exist. Altruism doesn’t make an animal any more likely to survive, so how could it have developed? It should have died out, but sure as eggs is eggs, altruism exists.

Darwin offered to make Spencer some tea, to buy some time to check the old text books. “Fuck” he thought “I’ve fucking missed it out, haven’t I?” Even at that early stage, he could tell his book deal was in jeopardy, he’d had the bloody advance and everything.

He left his Mac 10, only half clean on the table, where he’d started, and walked out to speak to Spencer.

“Yeah, I’m a bit fucking busy now. Come back in about 20 years” he said. Spencer agreed to do so. He didn’t want to, but it was Darwin’s house, so he had to agree. After all, we’re not bloody animals are we? We’re Human Beings.

Darwin immediately put his mind to solving the problem. As time went by, he got more and more frustrated. The scientific community wanted answers, and he had no answers to give. One day in a fit of indignation he called them “cocks!!” at the top of his voice. Which upset his wife immensely, as she hadn’t seen one since 1845. Then it hit him: cocks!!! Peacocks to be exact. They had these bloody great big feathers that didn’t help them one bit. In fact, they had become more susceptible to predators as a result, but they had continued to evolve great big bloody feathers. It was obvious now.

This is why: the big feathers gave the Pea Hens a wide-on. They went crazy for that shit. So whenever they spotted a Peacock with big feathers, they had to get it on. So they had kids that were more likely to have big feathers, who were more likely to procreate and so on. So Darwin set himself to studying the sexual selections of human females, and you know what? It turned out that women (throughout the entirety of or history) were more likely to have kids with a man, who was kind and considerate. Who’d believe that nowadays? Therefore their children were more likely to have that characteristic, and they were more likely to have children, who thought being nice was cool.

Darwin was well chuffed with this. He was so chuffed he dedicated 70 pages of his book "The Descent of Man and Selection in Relation to Sex", to it. (plus a further 500 on the effect in other animals).

The day that he figured it out. He finished cleaning that Mac 10 and waited for Spencer to turn up on the 20 year deadline, which he duly did. Spencer opened the door to Darwin’s house, only to find the barrel of that Mac 10 pointing at his head. He had just enough time to see Darwin pull the trigger. “I don’t need no mother fucking literary criticism up in my crib, bitch!” he said. Then laid that Mac 10 to rest forever, out of respect for Spencer’s scientific insight.

You see, the human race has prided itself on it’s altruistic tendencies for quite some time. Altruism is the benefiting of others at your own expense. Now most people will have experienced altruism at some point in their lives, even if only briefly, and even if it only served as a painful reminder of how life could be if things were different.

Many scientists, even the great John Nash, thought they had proved the very existence of it, with laboratory controlled experiments. These experiments eventually became the symbols of Game Theory. Which is essentially a study of how people react in situations where the success of their choices depend on the choices of another person. So let me explain the point of it.

There is one game which is called “Dictator”. This is a development of a game (invented by Nash), called “Prisoner’s Dilemma”. 2 people played Dictator. They both knew the rules. The rules were always similar to this: player A had x dollars, player B had nothing. Player A could decide to keep all of the money or share it with player B. There would be no recourse for player B at all. Player A could give as much to player B as they wanted. Player B could do fuck all about it.

Now, the best choice, for player A, is to simply keep all the money. However, no matter where the game was played, in whatever country they did the experiment, player A nearly always gave money to player B. The world had it’s proof that Human Beings weren’t all that bad after all. Yay us.

Except, There was a guy named John List, also an economist. He had different ideas on the subject. He invented tests which changed the dynamic somewhat. He changed the rules so that player A and player B had, let’s say: $10. Player A could still do whatever they wanted , and player B could do nothing. In these circumstances, player A mostly took money from player B. Around 60% of player A’s took money from B and kept their money.

List went even further, and did the experiments without the subjects knowing he was doing it. He did this by asking subjects to offer x money for a baseball card, then asking for the best one they could have for that amount, from the dealers. He found that most of the dealers would rip off the subject.

List did those experiments as he became aware that the lab subjects were not being selfless. They were giving away some of the money, because they thought it made them look good. When this observing element was removed, altruism seemed to disappear.

It’s not all bad news though. In one experiment, player A kept their power of choice over player B’s money. However, instead of being given the money, they both had to work to earn it. Player A would know this.

In this study, only 28% of player As took any money from player B. This shows that if A knows that B has come by the money in a way that they deem acceptable, they are more likely to be altruistic, than not. Although 28% effectively stealing is not a good number.

So what’s my point here? My point is; science shows that if you feel that you are not being watched, you feel like your actions are justified, and you feel that there is enough distance between you and your victim (emotionally), then you will be more likely to steal from them. Especially when your victim can do nothing about it.

I’m not one of those nostalgic guys who thinks everything was better in the past, because it simply wasn’t.

People still did shitty things to each other, however, society dictated that those things were wrong, so people at least tried to hide what they did, so altruism was preserved.

Now imagine a society in which that is not the case. Imagine a society in which judging others is considered unseemly, selfish behaviour is always defended, and selfless behaviour is attacked as outmoded, or geeky. Imagine a society in which children are taught that hard work is unnecessary, and material goods are the only important things, and that those who acquired them at all costs are sexually desirable.

What does science tell us will become of us? It’s more important than what those with a political agenda will tell you.

Does the society I describe above already exist? I don’t know. But, whilst writing the above, I did feel compelled to define altruism.

The Beard Reminisces About Film

2011-08-25T05:13:00.000-07:00

When I was a tiny Beard child, The Beard Father used to borrow VHS cassettes from a guy he knew at work. The guy had a huge collection of films, I mean literally huge. He had so many that he couldn’t watch them all. So he had a load of films hat he just didn’t know the content of.

I had a Beard Father who was happy to get the films for me to watch, but did not have any real knowledge of film. And the last ingredient in this perfect storm of parental responsibility, was The Beard Mother. Who took advantage of their trancelike effect on me, to leave me alone to do housework.

This made for a good number of interesting visual experiences for The Baby Beard. I now break these down into their different effects:-

The “Is This Actually a Cartoon?” (ITAC) Effect:-

The Beard Father began by borrowing what he thought were cartoons. As I was only 4 to 7 at the time, he clearly thought this was a good move.

The cartoons happened to be Japanese Manga. It simply blew my mind. I have no idea which ones I watched, because this was well before the time of Akira (arguably the most famous Manga). I remember one set in space, one of the villains was prone to executing these bunny things, for no reason, presumably just to enhance his bastard credentials - the bastard. The hero was a space cadet. In the end he turned into a baby, and his android companion turned into a human. This just happened on a beach, I’ve been suspicious of sand ever since.

There was another one about this boy whose parents were dead, and he was stuck on this planet. This bird thing tried to eat his brains and he needed a metal skull cap, to stop his brains leaking out, or something. Eventually, he found some companions, and they escaped to this old dude’s ship. However, in the end you see the old dude’s got the same skull cap thing. He’d rescued himself, during some crazy paradox!!!!

The “Mild Trauma Caused by Lack of Understanding?” (MTCLU) Effect:-

The film most responsible for this would be ET. I just didn’t get the bit where he died but then came back to life. I actually saw this at the cinema. I got through the whole film no problems. By the time The Beard Family got to the lobby I managed to say “The Alien died” before bursting into tears. This also happened to me at home, after watching “The E-WOK Adventure” just substitute the word “Alien” for “E-Wok”, and it was exactly the same scenario. Except my house didn’t have a lobby, and ET didn’t actually die. It was a different time of the day. Come to think of it, it’s not that similar at all, but I’m not going back to delete it now.

The “Am I Supposed to be Watching This?” (AISWT) Effect:-

The strength of this effect waxed and waned. At the beginning I felt like that because there was alot of swearing in the Manga films. I eventually got used to it, only to be hit by the lightning bolt of Jamie Lee Curtis in “Trading Places”. If you’ve seen the film, you know what I’m talking about. I’d simply never seen anything like them in my entire short life. This also coincided with me discovering the function of the pause button.

The “Emotionally Scarred for Life” (ESL) Effect:-

There are loads of films that fit into this category. The most significant impact was Aliens. There’s a scene where the heroes find a young woman, who has an Alien inside her, which eventually bursts out of her chest. She begs them to kill her, shortly before it does. I had nightmares for about a week. I kept picturing loved ones talking to me, going all green, and exploding aliens bursting out of their chests. I really, really don’t know how I got to watch it.

It’s not just limited to that, I also have to give honorary mentions to an execution scene in “Missing In Action” (Chuck Norris B movie), and the killing of “Murphy” scene in “Robocop”.

The “Oh My Fuck, What The Fuck Were You Thinking? You Call Yourself Parents?” (OMFWTFWYTYCYP) Effect:-

One of the very few films that got the better of me as a child: “Day of The Dead”. I never watched it all the way through. This is a film about a group of scientists who do experiments on zombies with the help of the military. The military eventually finds that some of their infected compadres are also being experimented on. So you can perhaps see how this is not a suitable film for a tiny child. But I watched it. What the fuck were they thinking? The synopsis is clearly on the box, as are the faces of several blood thirsty zombies. I couldn’t even hear the music without having a minor nervous breakdown. I had to look out of my window, to make sure their were no zombies in the streets before I went to bed, for about 6 months. It was scarier than the original "Moomins".

It did help me in the end, because I’m dead inside now, so I don’t spend as much time crying over dead E-Woks, which means I have more time for other stuff - like blogging.

Leave it out, Tony

2011-08-21T14:21:00.000-07:00

The riots left a bitter taste in my mouth the last few weeks. Anything that involves people moaning about lack of opportunity, and condoning outright criminality just pisses me off. I suppose it’s based on the fact that even though I have to work extended hours, in a stressful environment for my money, I’m still expected to pay outrageous levels of taxation to fund the ungrateful. This week I thought I’d finally come to terms with it. The apologists, both left and right have come out in their droves (where were they when it was all happening?), bending the facts to promote their own political agenda. Not because they give two shits about you. However I was expecting that, so I was braced for impact.

I had all but turned the corner, except, this morning I put on BBC News to find that Tony Blair was putting in his two pennerth. All of a sudden my shit was well and truly gripped again. One day I’m gonna fart and a diamond will come out (tell me it’s disgusting then, ladies). The crux of my annoyance was his assertion that he hadn’t been able to do anything about the “Me, Me, Me” culture whilst he was in office. Now for my money, anyone who can’t get something done in 10 years was never going to get it done in the first place.

Anyway, it got me back on to the subject, and set my mind racing against all the ridiculous explanations. I don’t know if you saw it, but one of the standout pieces for me was the interview with the 4 hoodies opposite Canary Wharf.

I don’t know why it got my goat so much, but I think it might have been down to the fact that the assertions made by the hoodies were so tamely challenged, and were almost presented as an apology piece. So now I’m pissed off all over again, I’ve revisited it, and written a few thoughts. See what you think.

Even read along with the You Tube clip.

Intro: The 4 hoodies are introduced, and described as part of a criminal gang. There are 4 of them (a gang) and they are about to speak about their commission of criminal offences (criminals then?). So far so good. No problems there. At this point, I was relatively optimistic. Possibly a cerebral meditation on the ills of society. I’m excited.

Time: 0120 I’m disappointed. Green mask tit tells the interviewer that he saw an opportunity and went for it. He got himself a tracksuit and what he describes as “electronic stuff”. All my hopes of some spark of intellectual thought are scuppered. I want to comment more on this, but everything I want to say is summed up in the phrase “electronic stuff”.

Clearly this is not about social injustice, nor racism, educational or economic opportunity, no, it’s about.........stuff.

Time: 0124 OK, now we move onto Red mask tit. I can see his eyes poking out between hood and mask, like some 18th century highwayman. I can tell he has something to say. Maybe he has an actual reason. An actual bona fide reason?

He says he’s providing for his family. OK I’m listening, tell me about it. Then he brings it back to the same thing. “I got stuff for my son” what is it about this stuff? Why is stuff so important, and where can I get some stuff for myself? Is it only available during times of disorder? If so why, and again where? I must get myself some of this magical stuff. As I watch I’m convinced now the riots were justified. I mean, I’m angry I don’t have any stuff. I can’t have any, because I don’t even know what it is.

Then the killer, bless his little heart, he’s only gone and robbed some stuff for his son. His tiny little son has no stuff?! I bet it’s those bastard capitalists are to blame. Them and their damned money. If only they learned to provide more stuff for us, everything would be better.

Except it turns out to be bollocks. He didn’t want any of the magical stuff. He really wanted some clothes and trainers for himself, oh and some powder and Johnson’s products for his son. I can see by his cute little laugh that he was never serious. He doesn’t care about stuff. He only cares about well - material goods.

I’m glad he put some time aside for some “me time” whilst he was robbing, as a single parent thief, he probably finds it difficult to get out and really do some stealing, whilst the sole carer of his son. What’s that you say......at 16 years old he’s unlikely to be truly caring for his child, or even have custody? No, I won’t have it. Any man who goes out stealing for himself, and remembers he’s a daddy, is alright by me. After all, if he had abandoned the Johnson’s set, He could have had another PS3. So don’t go labeling him as selfish, fascist.

The funniest thing in this bit is that he starts to laugh when the interviewer goes for it. He can’t believe his luck. His eyes nearly pop out of his tiny little head. He keeps with it, until he forgets.

Time: 0145 so time to explore what the benefits were - So what did you get? Dark mask tit this time: got some HDs, couple of grands worth. Yes I see it now. This is clearly his comment on society. Possibly even auto destructive art? or just theft. Now I think about it, yeah it’s just theft.

Time: 0150 -Not really a point made here, but I include it as I found it amusing. The interviewer shows his feelings about the guys intelligence level (or possibly shows his own) He asks: “How much is 2 grand to you?” Well it’s 2 thousand pounds, last time I counted.

Time: 0159 an opportunity to make a point about the consumerist nature of society goes wanting- the interviewer asks what it means to him. Is it survival? Is it another year at university? Is it food and clothing for his deprived children? His answer? It’s “nice for not paying for nothing, innit?” - he clearly has a future in retail.

At this point, I’m also getting a bit annoyed with the sucking the air in over the teeth thing. Always the sure fire sign of a complete cunt.

Time: 0225 red mask tit back on the case: he talks about getting a van to help him “provide for his baby” (how big is this child?) He steals enough to necessitate refilling the van. This really pisses me off, as he goes on to complain about the removal of EMA. Now in my mind, EMA is to help increase accessibility to education. In my opinion, if you can get access to a van, in the middle of a riot, and drive around London - why can’t you make it into school?

Time: 0320 we stumble across the real reason for the lads joining the riot: “you’re only one in a thousand people” i.e. you probably ain’t gonna get caught. For me, clearly demonstrating that the real reason for them joining in was simply because they could. i.e. the lack of opportunity they usually lament, is the lack of opportunity to steal. Bastard coppers keeping the little people down.

Time: 0350 another attempt at justification. It was all payback. He was raging against the corporate machine. The very machine that had refused to recognise his value to society and give him a job, even when he had tried to get a really nice pair of trainers to go to the interview in. What’s the world coming to when a 16 year old father of one, with a poor grasp of the English language and a propensity for criminal behaviour can’t get a job in..........Comet?

Time: 0340 I’ll skip over the bit where they show no remorse for their actions. It’s clearly not relevant. Is it?

Time: 0343 red mask tit says he won’t feel bad because he’ll be watching his plasma. He says it’s like Christmas come early. Who said a lack of religion was an issue? Thats that put to bed.

Time: 0357 The cameraman belies his right wing tendencies by surreptitiously filming the lads’ natty threads. Demonstrating that perhaps they do have a bit of money after all. Bloody Nazi.

Time: 0408 Much hilarity when red mask tit says he tried to dress as smart as he could for a job interview. “I even begged my mum for a new pair of trainers.” Magic. By far the best bit. except for:-

Time: 0420 He says “(I) talk the politest I can” - I wonder why he didnt get the job.

Time: 0441 “work hard but they not giving us no jobs like.” firstly it’s: “they will not give us a job.” and secondly, perhaps because you have absolutely no redeeming qualities at all.

Time: 0449 “we can do what you can do.” Well you can't, because you can’t get a fucking job can you? and you can’t make a sentence without sounding like a cunt? Oh, and your a fucking thief too.

Time: 0504 “government arent helping noone out but the rich people” - 152 billion of taxpayers money on welfare? I’ll come back to this. (and it's; isn’t helping anyone)

Time: 0549 and another attempt at justification. The interviewer asks what should The Government do? Answer: The Government should put back on EMA. Now does anyone believe, at this point that this guy is going to go to uni, even if he was chauffeur driven everyday to Oxford university, and taught by the reanimated corpse of Sir Isaac Newton himself? No. So what the fuck is that about?

He also says: “help all the single mothers that are struggling” OK, what’s your baby mother doing whilst you’re out thieving at 16? Perhaps don’t have a child if you’re not in a financial position to have one? like the fucking rest of us? And shouldn’t the baby daddy share some responsibility for that? And exactly how is burning your local economy to the ground going to help her?

Time: 0620 the interviewer: without a hint of irony, says that they got what they wanted today: a voice. They know it will make it easier to catch them.
They truly are martyrs for the cause.

Now the main point I took away is; there is a lack of opportunity for young people in our country, the UK. It’s the only argument that makes sense. So before I call it a day, I wanted to have a look at this. And state why I think that’s just bollocks.

So what they were saying is that lack of opportunity leads to marginilisation. This eventually leads to resentment and violence.

Now I can see that. Believe it or not I can understand that regularly seeing people on TV literally covered in gold and diamonds can lead a man to think, how can I get some of that? And then finding that you cannot achieve any meaningful wealth through any degree of hard work can lead to resentment, and it’s obvious how being in a state of continual resentment can lead to lashing out.

So the real question is at the very beginning; is there a lack of opportunity?

Well lets chew that over for a second here.

Net migration is around 240,000 people to the UK, according to the ONS. So clearly someone thinks there is opportunity in this country, and enough to travel thousands of miles to take it.

The welfare budget is 169.3 billion for this year, rising to 185 billion over the next few years. Therefore, The Government (the taxpayer i.e. you and me) is providing, what I would describe as, a great big fuckload of help.

Especially when you consider that our GDP is at $2.17 trillion, according to The World Bank. That’s a hefty percentage.

And lets look at that in an even bigger context. According to the International Monetary Fund, this is bigger than the entire GDP of the following countries:-

Romania, Algeria, Peru, New Zealand, Kazakhstan, Ukraine, Kuwait, Qatar, Hungary, Bangladesh, Vietnam, Morocco, Slovakia, Angola, Iraq, Libya, Sudan, Ecuador, Croatia, Syria, Oman, Belarus, Luxembourg, Azerbaijan, Dominican Republic, Sri Lanka, Slovenia, Bulgaria, Tunisia, Guatemala, Uruguay, Lebanon, Uzbekistan, Serbia, Lithuania, Burma, Costa Rica, Kenya, Ethiopia, Yemen, Panama, Jordan, Latvia, Cyprus, Tanzania, Cote D’ivoire, Cameroon, El Salvador, Bahrain, Trinidad and Tobago, Estonia, Bolivia, Ghana, Paraguay, Uganda, Afghanistan, Bosnia Herzegovina, Zambia, Honduras, Nepal, Equatorial Guinea, Iceland, Senegal, Dr Congo, Gabon, Botswana, Brunei, Republic of Congo, Albania, Namibia, Cambodia, Georgia, Mozambique, Macedonia, Mauritius, Mali, Armenia, Papua New Guinea, Burkina Faso, Madagascar, Malta, Chad, The Bahamas, Haiti, Benin, Nicaragua, Laos, Mongolia, Kosovo, Rwanda, Niger, Tajikistan, Zimbabwe, Moldova, Malawi, Kyrgyzstan, Guinea, Barbados, Montenegro, Mauritania, Suriname, Swaziland, Fiji, Togo, Eritrea, Guyana, CAR, Sierra Leone, Lesotho, Cape Verde, Burundi, Maldives, Belize, Bhutan, Djibouti, Antigua and Barbuda, The Gambia, Saint Lucia, Liberia, Seychelles, Guinea Bissau, Vanuatu, Soloman Islands, Grenada, East Timor, Saint Vincent and The Grenadines, St Kitts and Nevis, Comoras, Samoa, Dominica, Tonga, Sao Tome, Principe, Kiribati.

So all in all, quite a fucking bit really.
Did you notice Malta in there? They held off the entire Nazi War Machine throughout World War 2. So I reckon if they can do that on their budget, we can make it to fucking school on ours?

According to the Office for Budgetary Responsibility (OBR) Corporation tax raises 35.8 billion, which equates to more than a fifth of the overall welfare bill. So it looks like corporations are paying a fair bit too.

And how about the voluntary organisations for young people, for example: The Prince’s Trust , Youth to Youth , The National Youth Agency , The Family and Parenting Institute , Catch 22 , to mention just a few. Perhaps try them all before we decide there’s no chance.

Oh and just to point out, the company Comet? Much derided by Red mask tit for not helping out? They have a charity arm.
They also offer discounts to charities and run a grant system with the government, to help young families with disabled children.

Fuck me, who would have thought it? So they actually do help provide opportunities? I wonder if you have to wear a nice pair of trainers to apply?

This is of course, not to mention the £80,000 spent on free education, subsidised housing, free medical care, and the same for any children.

In short, There is no real justification for saying that there is a lack of opportunity. And if I could do anything with this blog, it would be to make people realise that Government funding and help is taken from us under the threat of prosecution.
So if you are saying it’s OK to riot if The Government doesn’t give more funding - What you are really saying is: I’m gonna riot, unless The Government forces you to give more money to me. Which isn’t going to solicit any sympathy from me.

For those of you who disagree, the address for the inland revenue is below, they accept voluntary contributions:-

HM Revenue & Customs

PO Box 1970

Liverpool

L75 1WX

I think they get about £8000 in voluntary contributions every year. I suppose this means most people think they pay enough. They are probably right.

Their arguments were simply the repetition of everything that they had heard on TV up to now, from those who would seek to forward their political agendas, at your expense, maybe not?

The most honest reply was from this guy. He doesn't make much of a point other than, I just wanted to, and the Police probably won't get me. He tries to blame them for it, but doesn't do much of a job of it.

Stupid thoughts and stuff

2011-08-16T07:47:00.001-07:00

I was considering the world at large today, and thought that there are a few myths, and stupid questions, that just don’t make sense. Several of them have been pushed in my face recently, so I’m gonna kill them all, as follows:-

Q: How do snow plough drivers get to work? A: They go in their snow ploughs, duh!

Q: Why do they sterilize needles for lethal injections? A: same reason you wash your hands when you haven’t pissed on your fingers - for appearance sake.

Q: Can the government take %20 off the police budget, and still keep the same numbers of police on the street? A: No - Their biggest cost is wages.....so just no.

Q: If a tree falls in the forest and there’s noone there to hear it, does it make a sound? A: Yes, of course it does, don’t be fucking stupid.

Q: Were the riot’s caused by coalition cuts in public spending? A: No. 2014-15 total current public spending UK forecast to be £93,700 million higher than last Labour year. Total additional state borrowing over 5 Year Coalition led Parliament: £485,000 million. Additional state borrowing added in March 2011 budget compared to June 2010 budget: £37,000 million over 4 years.

Q: Why are they called stairs inside, but steps outside? A: because you can only have steps outside.

Q: Can we lift everyone out of poverty? A: No. The widely accepted definition of poverty is having an income which is less than 60% of the national average. Therefore the very definition of poverty prevents it.

Q: What do people in China call their good plates? A: it’s still bone China plates. Bone China’s a product - not a place.

Q: Taxing the rich more will be effective? A: No. According to the IFS (Institute for fiscal studies), a 50p tax rate is counter productive, and should never have been more than 40p. Otherwise the revenue falls accordingly.

Q: Why is it that when someone tells you that there's billions of stars in the universe, you believe them. But if they tell you there's wet paint somewhere you have to touch it? A: because stars are really fucking hot.

Q: Was poverty at the root of the riots? A: I’ll pretend I didn’t see all the designer tracksuits running around with HD ready TVs in their arms, then.

Q: Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? A: because it wouldn’t be “goofy” if he didn’t (think it through).

Q: Should action be taken to close the gap between rich and poor. A: only if it’s actually beneficial to all. For example, infant mortality rate for the well off is at 3 per capita, for the less well off; 6. So twice as good to be in the “well off” bracket. If infant mortality rates improved by 1 overall, this would be a ratio of 2:5. Both sides would be better off, but the gap has widened, statistically. It’s not good shortening the gap, if we all end up worse off.

Q: What colour would a smurf turn if you choked it? A: it’s still blue. It’s still fucking blue, there are loads of different shades of blue, so its still blue. And also.....they ain’t real so you can’t choke them at all.

Q: Why does everything taste like chicken? A: it doesn’t. You either imagined it, or you are just eating chicken.

Shit, I seemed to have strayed back onto the riots thing again, and I thought I’d got over it.

Sky Divers - The Symbol of Over Entitlement

2011-08-14T06:59:00.000-07:00

When I was young, so much younger than today...... I was 5.

Salt and vinegar savoury snacks were all the rage back then, and the cream of the crop was: Sky Divers. They were shaped like tiny little men, and were packaged in a light blue bag, in an effort to imbue them with some vague link to the sky, and diving from it (I was 5 and it worked on me).

Now I think of it, Sky Divers was still a stupid name, because they bore no relation to actual Sky Divers, other than their crispy humanoid form.

I had the raging food horn for Sky Divers, at the time, because they combined the 2 things I loved most in the world:

1.) Poor, but tasty, dietary choices

2.) Novelty shapes.

The Beard Mother, never bought Sky Divers separately. She only ever bought them in a multi / variety pack of 6. Therefore, there were 4 other shit packets of crisps that no self respecting 5 year old would be caught dead with. Not whilst Sky Divers were available. Other 5 year olds, that did not eat Sky Divers, were as bad as Hitler in my infant eyes. And I would make sure I let them know it. So you can see it was important for young boys, in my demographic, to possess them and feel that they were a part of their everyday life.

One morning my childhood nemesis, and part time best friend, was at my house. We were just about to go out and play, when I spied The Beard Mother preparing to give us both a packet of crisps. Deep joy. But, to my horror, I could see that she only had only one packet of Sky Divers. The other hand, the hand suspiciously close to my body, was holding........ Chip Stix. Ready fucking salted....... Chip Stix. The savoury snack equivalent of a bowl of wank.

I knew there were no other Sky Divers, as I had happily knocked the shit out of the only other packet, that very same morning.

Eventually the inevitable happened, and my nemesis was given The Sky Divers.

I know many of you may think that this doesn’t sound that bad, maybe not.....but when Sky Divers were available????? it’s like being handed Pamela Anderson’s breast, only to have it snatched away and replaced with Simon Cowell’s saggy, hairy, man tit.

As far as I was concerned I had been betrayed by my own mother. At the age of 5, I had never suffered such feelings of rejection, and hatred. As we walked out through my garage, and into the front yard, I clutched my Battle Damage He-Man, so tightly, my knuckles lost all feeling in them for a week. My mind was swimming in bitterness. The desire for retribution had consumed my tiny soul, leaving me an empty, bitter, husk of a rug rat.

At this point, I noticed that my nemesis and I were alone. My newly twisted evil mind quickly realised it’s good fortune. My nemesis and I had tested each other in physical combat many times, and I had been victorious on each, and every, occasion.

I took the opportunity to apply some game theory to the circumstances. I could simply take the Sky Divers from him, and he could do nothing to prevent it. I might have incurred some minor injury, but this would soon be forgotten, as I consumed the sweet, delicious, Sky Divers - ambrosia of the gods. And, as a last resort, the pointy arms of Battle Damage He-Man, would make and excellent weapon.

Or, I could simply accept my fate and munch the shit, but equally nutritious, Chip Stix.

Clearly the criminal idea was the one choice that was immediately beneficial, and if there is one thing a 5 year old suffers it’s Instant Gratification Syndrome. I decided to go for it.

With one deft movement, I snatched the Sky Divers from his grasp and took them into my own possession. As I had recently started Ju - Jitsu lessons, I summoned all of my two Wednesday nights worth of knowledge, and braced my self for his attack. I knew I was going to get some lumps. He was somewhat smaller than me, but had the advantage of being bat-shit crazy when he wanted to be. Except, nothing happened. He simply looked down at his lonely, empty, hand, burst into tears, then ran away home.

I was quite surprised. At first I couldn’t believe my luck. I now had 2 packets of novelty, savoury treats, and no injuries. The Beard Mother would not find out, because my nemesis had left, and I had all day to consume the evidence. All in all, a cheeky little result.

Soon the drunken thrill of victory wore off, I came to realise that I now had noone to play with, and would be unlikely to do so for quite some time (possibly a whole day).

I began to think about The Beard Mother, and the amount of work she had to do, to earn the money to buy the Sky Divers in the first place (quite early for a five year old, I know, but she never shut the fuck up about it).

I realised that she owned the Sky divers, not me, and should have been able to give them to anyone she liked. It’s not like I didn’t get anything, it just wasn’t exactly what I wanted to have.

When it all dawned on me, I couldn’t eat the crisps, I just threw the Sky Divers on the floor and cried. I walked off to The Beard Den, and cried even more. I cried so much I forgot to take the Sky Divers, and so they were lost. To the sands of time.

You see my friends, eventually the Sky Divers would be gone. Sure, some of their masticated remnants would get jammed into the gaps in my teeth, but eventually even that would be gone too. My shame would last forever. Even now, I feel embarassed that it happened at all. My nemesis would probably forget the actual memory, but his mind would retain some element of mistrust for me, and he probably always kept a tighter grip on his stuff when I was around.

So, essentially, the moral of the story is, not getting what you want, does not entitle you to act like a little cunt. If you think that it does, then you simply are a cunt, and don’t be surprised if you start to sprout, short, thick, unsighlty black hairs and smell of fish.

P.s. I really want the moral to fit into a contemporary incident. But I can’t really think of one. I was going to go with the recent riots, but that’s got something to do with lack of opportunities or something, so it can’t be that.

The World and It's fake Fanny

2011-08-11T12:45:00.000-07:00

The rioting has led me to think about all the things wrong with our country, and why The Jeremy Kyle contestants always seem to outnumber the “Real” people.

I couldn’t help but think back to a couple of weeks ago and a story I read in “generic housewife weekly”. I have put it on Twitter before, but hey, given the circumstances, I thought I might rip the arse out of it, once again. It encapsulates all that is wrong about the country and proves the existence of The Underclass.

The story involves a young lady who is in the midst of a visit from “Aunty Flo”, or as I like to say, she’s on the blob. She sticks in a cheeky tampon, and then yes you guessed it; she forgot it was in there. I’m not talking for an hour or so, I’m talking for 3 fucking days. 3 days.

Just run that through your mind again. Sit in a darkened room on your own and say this phrase “she forgot she had inserted a tampon into her fanny, for 3 days” say it over and over until it sinks in. Yeah, thats fucked up.

What would you have to do to realise it was still in there? Go to the toilet, be in a car seat, go horse riding, be on a fucking bucking Bronco?

No!!! she has to collapse from blood poisoning and be interviewed by several medical staff before she thinks “fuck me, I’ve left me fucking minge mouse in for 3 days”

The nurses pull it out and it smells like she’s got a boiled corpse in her clout. Even worse; she’s so far gone, her fanny has completely rotted away, she has to have it cut out and replaced with a styrafoam cup. The nicest thing that happens is that she finds a nice fella, who has presumably given his penis to medical science, and doesn’t care that she can’t have sex.

She’s so delighted with the story she sells it to “Angry Feminist Monthly” for £500. That’s £500, Sterling, in exchange for her dignity. Which makes it even more stupid, as we all know Sterling is fucked, which is in stark contrast to her fake fanny.

The Beard Gives Agony Advice

2011-08-10T09:58:00.000-07:00

I checked my E-mails the other day to find this tale of woe and heartbreak, from a young lady living in the Yorkshire Dales. Sally was an innocent young girl who had recently made a mistake in life, and was seeking my counsel.

Sally told me that she had met the man who starred as the alien in a mid 80's Arnold Schwarzenegger movie. She had first met him on an internet dating site, where he had charmed her into meeting him. She plucked up enough courage to meet the object of her desires in the Milton Keynes Nando's.

At first she was shocked and repulsed. She realised that, what she thought were face prosthetics, were in fact just horrific disfigurements. She had thought of leaving immediately and never showing her face. If only she had. She took pity upon the pathetic creature and thought to give him a chance.

As they sat ordering their chickeny treats, Sally noticed how the female waitresses easily warmed to him, and how comfortable he was in female company, despite his obvious abnormality. When he went to the toilet, one of the waitresses approached her, and congratulated her on landing such a catch. She told Sally that every woman in Miltion Keynes was in love with him, and that he had his pick of all the girls. He was internationally renowned as being an expert lover, having slept with well over a thousand women, but had never taken any of them to Nando's.

Sally was overcome with excitement, and in that typically feminine way simply decided, on very little evidence, that she was lucky to be with the horrifically ugly and bloodthirsty alien.

Their relationship blossomed over the coming months. Sally was having the time of her life, having found that he was an amazing and considerate lover. He was enjoying life too, having landed a part in the new revival of the Schwarzenegger franchise, which was being directed by Roberto Rodriguez. He had also promised that he would introduce her to the great Ahhhnholt, himself.

Sally eventually made the decision to sleep with him. Which signalled the end of the relationship. On their 4 month anniversary. She bought some saucy lingerie, and made a beautiful meal for the two of them. They had an incredible night of passion and sexual abandon. He made love to her at least 5 times throughout the evening. She was so delirious that she collapsed on the bed and dropped into the most satisfying sleep, as happy as she had ever been.

In the morning she awoke to fid that he had left, only a small drop of luminescent blood, from a paper cut, to signal that he had ever been there at all. Sally tried to call him to see where he had gone, only to realise that it was The Radio 1 "Flirt Divert" number. She was crushed, ashamed and embarrassed, at how easily she had let her own sexual standards slip. She never saw him again. She never trusted another man, forever feeling that they were just going to take advantage.

Sally has now turned to me for advice.

All I can say is, Sally, the mistake has been made, there's no going back.

If only you had come to me earlier, Sally. I could have told you he bore all the hallmarks of a sexual Predator.

The Beard's Secret Identity

2011-08-09T14:02:00.000-07:00

I was on hollibobs recently. I put on my Batman T-shirt and headed into the beautiful streets, of a Spanish countryside town.
As I walked into the town centre, a young English street urchin approached me, pointed at my T-shirt and shouted "Look everyone! Its Batman!"
I looked into his innocent little eyes and shouted "It's supposed to be a secret fucking identity, you gobby little cunt!"

Beard Poetry

2011-08-08T12:32:00.000-07:00

I have two books of poetry in my house. They are by Rudyard Kipling, and also Dylan Thomas. I have attempted to channel their respective energies, whilst composing this little ditty. It's dedicated to anyone who's ever had a nasty surprise:-

I dont know what to do

My big vein is black

My nuts are slack

‘N my piss comes out like glue

From just a little screw?

I don’t want none of this

I hope it’s not the syphilis

I need a magic brew

I have some rotten pooh

My wood ain’t back

My sex is off track

And I got it from you

There’s only one thing to do

While I lie here dying

Is to make you hear me sing

“I hope that you are too”

you fucking skanky bitch, die die die.

The truth be told, I'm not really much for Thomas. I like "Under Milk Wood" but only when read by Richard Burton. The sexy voice dead bastard.

P.s. wear a mac, boys and girls.....clunk click, every trip.

The Tottenham Riots

2011-08-07T12:00:00.000-07:00

Now I'm not going to pretend that I know what the real issues are with this. I'm no expert. However, it did strike me that rioting in your own estate, because you don't like the things that happen there, is very similar to rubbing shit in your hair, because someone stole you shampoo.

The Daz Night Club Challenge

2011-08-07T11:52:00.000-07:00

There was a time when The Beard did not exist. This time shall be forth known as; Pre Beard. During this time, The Juvenile Beard stalked the land of night clubs, searching for weak nightclubs and pubs. In other words, drinking establishments that turned a blind eye to under age drinking.

I am happy to report that I found several, with the aid of a few good men who were of the same mind.

On one occasion I was with my best buddy, Baz. We had availed ourselves of several weak pubs and had made our way on to my home town's major weak club. Presenting our Ashton Athletic fake IDs, we made it inside, to find a whole load of our college buddies. All of which, were worse for wear. Baz and I wasted no time at all. Soon enough The Juvenile Beard was happily feeling the effects of social confusion.

I hopped up onto the stage area of the club, which had a bannister between me and the stage. I started to bop away to the finest Mancunian indie pop available, when all of a sudden, I saw 2 (yeah 2!!) pairs of feminine hands clutching me from behind (in a good way).

I turned round and lets say....got involved, only to find a further 2 Doris' game for some Juvenile Beard aswell. Now as you can imagine, I was fairly pleased. None of the other lads had got so much as a bite on the line, and here I was being gang groped by (what I thought) the best my home town could offer. And for a young lad, in my situation, in those days, that was quite the social victory.

So, imagine my surprise when my good friend Baz, hops onto the bannister and literally demands that I get down. I politely inform him that there will be no such action, from The Juvenile Beard. At which point he punches me with considerable effort, right in the jaw. I was quite taken aback, and a bit unsure of my next move.

Baz then said "If you don't tell that bird to fuck off, you'll regret it"

I consider that I am quite drunk at this point, and unlikely to do well in a bout of pugilism. Luckily he fucked off, as quickly as he appeared. Leaving me a bit bemused.

Anyway, the night came to a close, and I spend the next 2 hours zig zagging through the streets, on the hour long walk back to my house. Then Kebab, bed, tidy.

I wake up the next morning, and head off to college. I was sitting in the college common room, wondering why my jaw hurts so much when I saw Danny Baker (of the Daz Doorstep Challenge fame) walk past me. Now it's not the first time, I've seen odd things after a good binge drink, but it did catch me as strange. Then it happened again, and again. I only noticed on the third round, that Baker was wearing a rather large floral skirt. Then Baker starts to point at me and stare, talking to 3 other Doris' that could be mistaken for Les Dawson, Alf Garnet, and Jo Brand. Luckily Baz walks over and fills me in. Baker and her ogre friends are in fact the 4 willing Doris' from the night before. He's been round to see his mates, who know them. He is clearly beside himself with amusement at my misfortune, and is only too eager to tell all and sundry exactly what happened. His most interesting fact about Baker? that she is too fat to buy trousers, and has to have the floral skirts especially made. Magic.

The moral of the story? just don't fucking drink too much in the mid 90s.

The Audience Participation Blog Post

2011-08-06T12:33:00.000-07:00

After contemplating the “showbiz” section of a certain newspaper today, I’ve decided to update my “over the side list”. This is essentially the list of celebrities that The Chief Doris has authorised a one off bone for. Now you all have one of these, even if your other half doesn’t know it. However, to keep the purity of it, you have to agree on a few principles, because without principles, you have anarchy. If you have anarchy, everyone has to dress like the Sex Pistols, who were possibly the fucking ugliest fuckers ever to exist, anywhere.

Rule 1, it’s got to be celebrities. If you just put any old fucker down, you’re basically mugging off your Doris, and Justin Bieber doesn’t like it.

Rule 2, there can be only 5. Otherwise you’re mugging off the top 5, and they ain’t gonna shag you after that. That’s just good manners.

Rule 3, they have to be hot. Otherwise you’re mugging off yourself. Because dodgy choices should go on the “guilty pleasure” list (see below).

Anyway, here’s mine:-

1.) Sophia Bush. She’s that Doris from One Tree hill. I appreciate watching One Tree Hill may suggest that I don’t deserve to have a penis. But it’s my list, and you’ll be jealous when we inevitably get trapped in a lift together, during the zombie apocalypse, and she get’s a bit horny and that.

2.) Anniston. So sexy she didn’t even have to merge her name with Brad, to get people to notice her. Like a fine wine.

3.) Mila Jovovich. See, they made you think she represented the 5th Element: love (in the film of the same name). However the hidden meaning was; the thing that saved the world was smoking hot chicks.

4.) Cheryl Tweedy. She ain’t married to him, so I’m not using his name. It’s actually unfair to other women to be so sexy in one go. Personally I find it offensive. But, I still spend every autumn saturday night, hoping for a cheeky nip slip.

5.) Spears. Mainly because I reckon she’s a bit dirty, and will be more willing to enter into the spirit of “the over the side list”.

So that’s it. Girls 1 - 5 if you ever drop by the Beard Blog, know this: the above list is subject to change at a moments notice, so don’t be late to the party. You might find yourself having been bumped for Katrina Bowden.

After all, none of you are getting any younger (‘cept for you Anniston, you’ve possibly done a deal with Satan).

Please let me know what you think. Post a comment and tell me what your “over the side list” looks like, both boys and girls.

An the guilty pleasure list (shhhhh.....):-

1.) Nigella Lawson.

2.) Helen Mirren.

3.) The ginger one from Girls Aloud.

4.) Sarah Beeny.

5.) Lady Gaga (does that make me bisexual?)

Slobodan Milosovic and my part in his downfall (retrospectively speaking) Part 1

2011-08-05T03:06:00.000-07:00

In 1999 it all kicked off in a little place called; Kosovo. Our esteemed leader at the time was Tony Blair who, not being one to miss an opportunity to “mix things up”, popped over to the US to speak with Big Bill Clinton. Using his Derren Brown level mind control techniques, he convinced Big Bill to attack Serbian forces near Kosovo, in exchange for some Um Bongo, and a multipack of Hubba Bubba.

As I was in the RAF, Some time later I found myself in Kosovo staring at a map, wearing mostly green.

As it was still too dangerous to travel alone, I had set out early to an appointment, on the other side of Pristina (Kosovan capital) with a colleague. He had convinced me to travel to a place of local legend, whilst we still had plenty of time. I never saw this place, but there was rumored to be a village where the inhabitants had not allowed breeding outside of their tiny community. This resulted in the village becoming known as “The Kingdom of The Jaffa Heads”. I can’t imagine why.

As my colleague was a fucking useless cunt, we got completely lost. We were going to be ridiculously late unless I could get a grip of our map. And if it’s one thing you get fucked for in the forces, it’s being late. And when it comes to fucking, I like to be the “fucker” and not the “fuckee”.

The problem was, although I found where I needed to be, and I could see where I was, the said 2 points were separated by a field. The field had a lovely hand made sign with the word “minat” on it. For those of you who don’t see the problem: Minat meant Mines, as in landmines, as in instantaneous, horrifically painful, and emotionally upsetting for all, explosive death.

I tried to engage a couple of locals in conversation, to try to find a way around it. Unfortunately, the only Serbo-Croat I bothered to learn was “stop or I’ll kill you”. Take it from me, this is not the way to get someone to help you get around a mine field. By now, I was getting pretty fucked off. The Landrover we were in was baking hot. My colleague was getting right up my fucking nose, and I was already starting to picture the beasting I’m gonna get when I eventually turn up late.

“Right!” I shout. “Get in the fucking Landy now!” as I clearly lost my fucking mind. I starts the engine and did something I would never have done before, and would never do again. I pointed at our destination, and drove the 25 m or so, through the minefield. Fuck you Minat, and the horse you rode in on.

As I hit the embankment that led to the field, the Landy pitches, and all I can see is the clear sky. I thought to myself “this is what heaven will look like in abut 20 seconds” But no explosions, no nothing.
My colleague says nothing for the rest of the trip, in fact he never speaks to me again. We made the appointment on time too, with bollocks, and all other vital organs completely intact. All in all, a complete fucking result.

When I started writing this, I wanted it to have a moral about being thoughtless. Now I think about it, the moral appears to be if you’re late and a bit stressed it’s OK to act a bit suicidal. I don’t want it to be that so......erm......the moral iiiiiis.........I dunno, just make something up.

The First Beard Blog

2011-08-04T11:02:00.000-07:00

This is my first blog. The very first Beard Blog..... I suppose I’d better do some kind of introductory blog post, then.

I am @Das_Beard, of Twitter fame (I have 1800+ followers at present, so I’m claiming it).

I can’t quite understand why so many people are interested in the utter bollocks that spouts from my hirsute chops, but they are. So I thought I might expand my Tweets into a full on post, a Twat, if you will?

So how did I get here? well that’s a funny story. Sit back, relax, and let me tell you how it all began.

About 10 years ago I was working as a pet rodent farmer (PRF for short) in The Scilly Isles. One of the issues that PRFs have to deal with, is rodent fetishists poaching the rodents for their deviant sexual practices (it was a celebrity craze in the early 90s). After one particularly difficult night, fetishist beating, I sat down to read a medical journal, to wind down.
I always try to keep abreast of the most interesting ways to die, in case I decide to become a musician.
Whilst leafing through the journal, I came across an advert asking for people to take part in medical experiments.

“That seems quite dangerous, for humans” I thought. So I set my mind to solving the problem. It was my Eureka moment, and it changed my life. From that day on I cross bred the rodent fetishists, and the rodents (using a complex system of levers and pulleys), thereby inventing The Human Guinea Pig. You’ve probably heard of it.

By the end of the week I’d made so much money that I left the PRF game for good, and moved to the mainland. Unfortunately this resulted in my hopeless addiction to Social Networking.

You too can be part of that addiction, by following me on Twitter, or by simply reading The Beard Blog.....every.....single.....day.