Monday, August 29, 2011

Secret Knowledge

From the beginning knowledge has been forbidden to Man, and this concept—that knowledge is something pernicious, harmful, corrupting—is central to the Judeo-Christian ideology which we have inherited, and which forms the backbone of our culture and society. It matters not if we accept or even acknowledge this Consensus ideology, we nonetheless belong to it. The Bible begins with the fable of Eden, of Adam, Eve and the Serpent, with the forbidding (and punishing) presence of the Elohim lurking ominously behind the scenes. And yet, even without departing too radically from the text or diving too deeply between the lines, it can also be reasoned from this myth that knowledge is the very thing that makes us men, that distinguishes us from the other animals (even if it has yet to make us gods). There can be little doubt that—way back at the beginning of Time—the Elohim were fully aware of our modern psychological concepts: by forbidding knowledge, these strange gods made sure we seek after it. The Serpent was Eve’s conscience speaking plainly, goading her on to the inevitable act. But this impulse came about through—or resulted from—the Elohim’s words themselves, making the Serpent simply the active fulfillment of Their secret will. Naturally, since these archetypes are as inseparable as cause and effect and as the twin hemispheres of the brain, neither has much meaning to the contemporary reader unless they are seen, in psychological terms, as two apparently conflicting aspects of the human psyche.

The Reading Festival 2011

I mean....arguing over the relative meaning of Pulp lyrics or the Strokes ability to get a groove on? To be honest the whole Reading line up was like finding a Guardian journalists Ipod and having a quick flick through the tracks (before dropping into Cash Converters). It's all very twee and socially relevant and not a little shit.

Odd Future doubly so, riding a fixie on stage should be a good marker as to the lack of credentials this collective has. They are in fact very homophobic and "casually racist" doesn't tell half the story but the biggest crime? Crap Sound forge beats and lame bars the hip hop version of The Kooks.

The 'Frosty Jack' crowd, boo! If you're going to sit on your boyfriends shoulders mouthing lyrics a la John Redwood stylee at least get your knockers out and give the viewing public something interesting to see between thinking of letting the dog out for a piss and wondering whether its too late to eat an ice cream.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

See

Friend forgotten left abandoned,
we remember where you came from.
Hard wired existence bereft of touch,
instinct lost love left.
A jumble of cluttered words a stamp of
oiled flesh.
A plucked string resonates a heaving breast,
coloured flash of insight and cathode stink.
Skin flushed light tempered sweat,
salt licked drop of lust.
Camera eyed artificial greeting displayed,
and trumped again a call unheard.
Laced tight skin aflame and gentle lashed,
invasion intake of sour breath.
Geometry of meaningless line and byte,
a vision unseen eyes closed.
Masked a breath choked and pulled from throat,
when arms hold tight in pelvic violence.
An end beheld clawed soil and rotten board,
collapse in patent leather shine.
Burned and blasted cost unknown a subtle bone,
shed tears for days collect.
A hand offered to drowning gasp of fear,
water of existence floods the lung.
Grasped awake, new dawned awareness littered
solitude.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Joe on the Mountain

Give me a helping hand for a second
as i choke and weep.
Guide my feet into safe footholds as i cling.
Shelter me from the rain and wind.

Salve my pains and agonies.
Redemption is a distant place amongst the ruin of skulls.
Rescue me strong hand upon shoulder grasped.
Heaved and shuttled through the battered path.

Joe,ive had enough, pick me up.
Footprints through trampled heather.
My sorrow grows heavy, help is what i ask.
Pleading platitudes and worship.

A lamb i am, a shepherd you are.
Take me home to the straw and warmth.
Bring me light a servant orders.
This and that picked over like crowed bones.

We wait upon the mountain and rest awhile.
A wound upon Joe bleeds in the Bilberry.
Blood splashed skin ached torment.
He retches and picks me up again.

Cradled child upon the arms of Joe.
Slipped and clutched again gasped pain.
He stumbles brave heart and magnificent.
Hands held to the stormy skies.

I reach and pick him up, light as a fallen leaf.
Transparent vessel helpess kittened.
We climb the mountain his body held.
At the top we'll rest awhile.

Cold day in Essex

Cold bleeds the sap and crushes the bark.
Every step moves leaded foot and stumble.
Bound hand unfeeling trodden and pulled beaten and kicked.
Hair grabbed a stolen view of a sodden grave of winter sun warmed frost.
Militia hop in vigour and subtle joy fingered trigger guards.
Knees scarred and let loose vile rivers of gravel blooded serum.
A victim placed to the rear of him, a quiet gasp of revelation.
The old man whisps of greyed hair blown by frosted air.
The Captain looks upon the burning sky and sees his will be done.
Two men and a woman bound upon the edge of unexplored shore.
A desperate touch between them stolen from the barrel twisted and oiled.
Justice or vengeance they could not tell in court rooms of jeering juries.
Mind addled unfeeling the litany of charge and counter charge.
A finger raised in protest and broken upon the bench.
'My life stolen' a witness screams.
A plea to court, Judged by the wronged.
The Screams of brothers imprinted upon cold damp plaster.
Scratched surface testimony of pain celled and locked.
No saviour for them riched and finest rags soaked in oil and fired.
Their burning bodies flung into the river.
Scorched eyes reveal their seat of power now fired itself.
Fawkes himself would weep at the crumbled brick.
A click of weaponry a sudden awakenening, a quickening, gasp cold breath.
The cold soil weeps into his body a corpse already dampened.
The Captain eased lights a cigarette and blows upon the breeze.
Bound and chastised a final indignation a breaking of a law.
Roped man rattles and his companions weep at him in fear.
They grasp they think a final rescue a mercy forgiven.
The Captain stops a second of time and speaks confession.
'A thousand corpses froze by cold and uncounted unburied dead,
unpeopled cities, unworked factory floor, cast away unwanted life,
unwanted uncultured history, an eye for every crime of government lair,
unpunished you were, unthinking animals, an excuse unread paper and thesis,
an undoing, untied unrestrained besuited demon, vile seed upon a fair land.
You were judged by those untouched by your policy they sit upon cushioned seat
as is their want and needs. I care not for them'
Three souls upon the edge of hasty grave.
Bittered and chastised no mourning for them.
Your offspring lie upon rusted hooks.
Your colleagues upon damp concrete.
Yourselves upon Essex mud.
Militia rip his shirt from him mask reveals his fate his wife bound weeps.
'No' the awful vision as the bullet rips her face and jerks upon the soil.
Blooded river steams upon the morning.
'An Essex lad, a fitting thing'The Captain ponders.
'My Mother jailed and murdered within her courts of law'he says and steps back from the vision.
'Spurter of filth' another cries and shoulders weapon.
He rests six rounds in her inert chassis.
Bounded man twisted agonies mouth raised and bidden to cry and God takes his last
confessional whisper.
I shot the round that killed the man that governed the law that held my family guilty that wrote the note that broke the spoke and turned deaf ear as he counted the money and fingered the power that knocks at night in awful fright as booted besuited animals of policy and fear......
He twists in pain with half a brain cold twisted muscle unaimed round we leave him in the Essex mud....i spit upon him.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Barry,Joe and Mo too

Three sons alight vibrant energy still
A hand afire hangs upon the sky directs
Be quiet listen awhile the sea laps the soaked plank
and birds flock upon the oars.

Converse and battered opinion lie shattered here
as thought flicks uncomplicated knowledge as deeps sigh
Twisted effigy floats licked by salt mantra confined
to muddled head and furrowed thought.

"Be still" Barry confides "and listen"
"My Fathers house sits within fields of corn" Joe remembers.
Mo hands plead "My hands, my children soaked with blood"
A finger points and wanders never steadied.

Never lost, always found, always kept, untouched.
Withered never, word pronounced and held tight to chest
A truth half heard met with shouted denial closed ears.
Always blessed, lie at peace the battered boat.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Football

I hate football.

A quote people who know me well enough see as the gentle wind before a coming storm, a storm that often leads to argument and this week Violence.

I listen to football talk everyday at work and as my goodly wife is a fan, at home too. Every conversation i have with people not connected with our skate thing either centers around footy or footy is brought into the exchange as soon as a lull appears in the vocalising. This gives me what friends call "The Mike Standby Mode" whereby i nod, agree and occasionally intersperse the talk with random nuggets of football orientated twaddle such as " Midfield" "Attack" or "Rooney". Participants of these conversations also agree to this random outburst. However im not listening to any of it but still manage to participate in the discussion. This tells me two things....Football fans are imbeciles and anybody can have a discussion about footy however well (or not) you are informed. This is a sport without courage without honour and without the simple content which allows me to have any empathy with it at all. Talk to somebody who skates and you will have a conversation about 1000 things unconnected with skating....now talk to an average football fan.

When i get angry about football it always centers around Murdoch and Sky. I become Bill Hicks on Crystal Meth armed with a machete with barb wire whips. I ranted fully during the week at a good friend of mine while we were driving to work. I told him he was a boring bastard watching soccer, he said he was a fan. I said he was a fool for paying Murdoch the money, he said it was worth it. I said Murdoch was the devil and he was being shafted by Murdoch with horns and a big pointy tail....and as well as fucking you he was probably fucking your girlfriend as well..........up the ass. He said downhill racing is fat old men with beerguts shoved into leather suits. The conversation declined in pure debate and increased the volume. I am a fucker for shouting down the opposition as i have a very loud voice, i also point violently. He said "I work hard for my money and choose to spend it how i like in a Democratic society".....

This annoyed me(Shock Horror)you see money paid to Murdoch's empire doesnt go into some cosy retirement home for old Rupert in Israel. No it goes into shady deals made by Shady men in whispers and hidden transactions. Your money may get a clip of AK ammo in Pakistan or might have paid for the phone that sets off an IED on route Irish. Tentacles upon tentacles the money that flows out of our wage packets will pay for someones death or dismemberment. It also goes into one of the most clever propaganda machines that ever existed. This point escapes most football fans.

If you want to get shafted by Murdoch et al then by all means spread your cheeks and breath in, if your lucky you might get a stinkfinger primer. But please please dont fucking talk to me about it, im not interested at all by transfers and Managers and other shit. Pardew and Wenger have a scrap at the side of the pitch....headline news, break out the fucking gas masks and riot gear. Bollocks, it was a pansy gay slap or two neither of which connected. I want to read that Pardew called Wenger "A Bastard" and shot him with a 9mm concealed in a Lucozade calorie and sugar loaded "Sports Drink" whereupon Wenger stabbed him with a Katana. I would read that. Football is an overhyped pile of shite, football news is pseudo news read by pseudo people for couch mongs stuffing fast food in their faces shouting at players to perform when a gentle jog to the toilet would make most of them collapse with a heart attack. Let football die a graceful death ,let it go, let the Africans have a bit of fun with it and put some real news on instead.

Stuff read this week include Walden by Henry Thoreau, Everest by Chris Bonington and im listening to "The Gourds".

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Pain

Went to Dings Chipping Camden course yesterday. 90% of the course is a gentle gradient which leads you on to a speed hump cunningly disguised for the occasion as a steel ramp . After the ramp you get a fairly level left hander, 30 yards of straight which pitches you into a sharp right hander. Mr Bastard on his second run lost grip flew down a bank and demolished a fence, mucho aches and pains today. I have a fairly good whack on my plated elbow, a bad back, bruised hip, wrecked gloves and a stiff neck. The aeroluge is bent including rear kingpin and front bars. I havent a clue where the luge went when i stacked it, just flew off. Pain and i have to go to work today, not a lot will get done.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Climate Change (again)

Climate chaos? Don't believe it

By Christopher Monckton, Sunday Telegraph

The Stern report last week predicted dire economic and social effects of unchecked global warming. In what many will see as a highly controversial polemic, Christopher Monckton disputes the 'facts' of this impending apocalypse and accuses the UN and its scientists of distorting the truth

Biblical droughts, floods, plagues and extinctions?

Last week, Gordon Brown and his chief economist both said global warming was the worst "market failure" ever. That loaded soundbite suggests that the "climate-change" scare is less about saving the planet than, in Jacques Chirac's chilling phrase, "creating world government". This week and next, I'll reveal how politicians, scientists and bureaucrats contrived a threat of Biblical floods, droughts, plagues, and extinctions worthier of St John the Divine than of science.

Sir Nicholas Stern's report on the economics of climate change, which was published last week, says that the debate is over. It isn't. There are more greenhouse gases in the air than there were, so the world should warm a bit, but that's as far as the "consensus" goes. After the recent hysteria, you may not find the truth easy to believe. So you can find all my references and detailed calculations here.

The Royal Society says there's a worldwide scientific consensus. It brands Apocalypse-deniers as paid lackeys of coal and oil corporations. I declare my interest: I once took the taxpayer's shilling and advised Margaret Thatcher, FRS, on scientific scams and scares. Alas, not a red cent from Exxon.

In 1988, James Hansen, a climatologist, told the US Congress that temperature would rise 0.3C by the end of the century (it rose 0.1C), and that sea level would rise several feet (no, one inch). The UN set up a transnational bureaucracy, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). The UK taxpayer unwittingly meets the entire cost of its scientific team, which, in 2001, produced the Third Assessment Report, a Bible-length document presenting apocalyptic conclusions well beyond previous reports.
advertisement

This week, I'll show how the UN undervalued the sun's effects on historical and contemporary climate, slashed the natural greenhouse effect, overstated the past century's temperature increase, repealed a fundamental law of physics and tripled the man-made greenhouse effect.

Next week, I'll demonstrate the atrocious economic, political and environmental cost of the high-tax, zero-freedom, bureaucratic centralism implicit in Stern's report; I'll compare the global-warming scare with previous sci-fi alarums; and I'll show how the environmentalists' "precautionary principle" (get the state to interfere now, just in case) is killing people.

So to the scare. First, the UN implies that carbon dioxide ended the last four ice ages. It displays two 450,000-year graphs: a sawtooth curve of temperature and a sawtooth of airborne CO2 that's scaled to look similar. Usually, similar curves are superimposed for comparison. The UN didn't do that. If it had, the truth would have shown: the changes in temperature preceded the changes in CO2 levels.

Next, the UN abolished the medieval warm period (the global warming at the end of the First Millennium AD). In 1995, David Deming, a geoscientist at the University of Oklahoma, had written an article reconstructing 150 years of North American temperatures from borehole data. He later wrote: "With the publication of the article in Science, I gained significant credibility in the community of scientists working on climate change. They thought I was one of them, someone who would pervert science in the service of social and political causes. One of them let his guard down. A major person working in the area of climate change and global warming sent me an astonishing email that said: 'We have to get rid of the Medieval Warm Period.' "

So they did. The UN's second assessment report, in 1996, showed a 1,000-year graph demonstrating that temperature in the Middle Ages was warmer than today. But the 2001 report contained a new graph showing no medieval warm period. It wrongly concluded that the 20th century was the warmest for 1,000 years. The graph looked like an ice hockey-stick. The wrongly flat AD1000-AD1900 temperature line was the shaft: the uptick from 1900 to 2000 was the blade. Here's how they did it:

• They gave one technique for reconstructing pre-thermometer temperature 390 times more weight than any other (but didn't say so).

• The technique they overweighted was one which the UN's 1996 report had said was unsafe: measurement of tree-rings from bristlecone pines. Tree-rings are wider in warmer years, but pine-rings are also wider when there's more carbon dioxide in the air: it's plant food. This carbon dioxide fertilisation distorts the calculations.

• They said they had included 24 data sets going back to 1400. Without saying so, they left out the set showing the medieval warm period, tucking it into a folder marked "Censored Data".

• They used a computer model to draw the graph from the data, but scientists later found that the model almost always drew hockey-sticks even if they fed in random, electronic "red noise".


The large, full-colour "hockey-stick" was the key graph in the UN's 2001 report, and the only one to appear six times. The Canadian Government copied it to every household. Four years passed before a leading scientific journal would publish the truth about the graph. Did the UN or the Canadian government apologise? Of course not. The UN still uses the graph in its publications.

Even after the "hockey stick" graph was exposed, scientific papers apparently confirming its abolition of the medieval warm period appeared. The US Senate asked independent statisticians to investigate. They found that the graph was meretricious, and that known associates of the scientists who had compiled it had written many of the papers supporting its conclusion.

The UN, echoed by Stern, says the graph isn't important. It is. Scores of scientific papers show that the medieval warm period was real, global and up to 3C warmer than now. Then, there were no glaciers in the tropical Andes: today they're there. There were Viking farms in Greenland: now they're under permafrost. There was little ice at the North Pole: a Chinese naval squadron sailed right round the Arctic in 1421 and found none.

The Antarctic, which holds 90 per cent of the world's ice and nearly all its 160,000 glaciers, has cooled and gained ice-mass in the past 30 years, reversing a 6,000-year melting trend. Data from 6,000 boreholes worldwide show global temperatures were higher in the Middle Ages than now. And the snows of Kilimanjaro are vanishing not because summit temperature is rising (it isn't) but because post-colonial deforestation has dried the air. Al Gore please note.

In some places it was also warmer than now in the Bronze Age and in Roman times. It wasn't CO2 that caused those warm periods. It was the sun. So the UN adjusted the maths and all but extinguished the sun's role in today's warming. Here's how:

• The UN dated its list of "forcings" (influences on temperature) from 1750, when the sun, and consequently air temperature, was almost as warm as now. But its start-date for the increase in world temperature was 1900, when the sun, and temperature, were much cooler.

• Every "forcing" produces "climate feedbacks" making temperature rise faster. For instance, as temperature rises in response to a forcing, the air carries more water vapour, the most important greenhouse gas; and polar ice melts, increasing heat absorption. Up goes the temperature again. The UN more than doubled the base forcings from greenhouse gases to allow for climate feedbacks. It didn't do the same for the base solar forcing.

Two centuries ago, the astronomer William Herschel was reading Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations when he noticed that quoted grain prices fell when the number of sunspots rose. Gales of laughter ensued, but he was right. At solar maxima, when the sun was at its hottest and sunspots showed, temperature was warmer, grain grew faster and prices fell. Such observations show that even small solar changes affect climate detectably. But recent solar changes have been big.

Sami Solanki, a solar physicist, says that in the past half-century the sun has been warmer, for longer, than at any time in at least the past 11,400 years, contributing a base forcing equivalent to a quarter of the past century's warming. That's before adding climate feedbacks.

The UN expresses its heat-energy forcings in watts per square metre per second. It estimates that the sun caused just 0.3 watts of forcing since 1750. Begin in 1900 to match the temperature start-date, and the base solar forcing more than doubles to 0.7 watts. Multiply by 2.7, which the Royal Society suggests is the UN's current factor for climate feedbacks, and you get 1.9 watts – more than six times the UN's figure.

The entire 20th-century warming from all sources was below 2 watts. The sun could have caused just about all of it.

Next, the UN slashed the natural greenhouse effect by 40 per cent from 33C in the climate-physics textbooks to 20C, making the man-made additions appear bigger.

Then the UN chose the biggest 20th-century temperature increase it could find. Stern says: "As anticipated by scientists, global mean surface temperatures have risen over the past century." As anticipated? Only 30 years ago, scientists were anticipating a new Ice Age and writing books called The Cooling.

In the US, where weather records have been more reliable than elsewhere, 20th-century temperature went up by only 0.3C. AccuWeather, a worldwide meteorological service, reckons world temperature rose by 0.45C. The US National Climate Data Centre says 0.5C. Any advance on 0.5? The UN went for 0.6C, probably distorted by urban growth near many of the world's fast-disappearing temperature stations.

The number of temperature stations round the world peaked at 6,000 in 1970. It's fallen by two-thirds to 2,000 now: a real "hockey-stick" curve, and an instance of the UN's growing reliance on computer guesswork rather than facts.

Even a 0.6C temperature rise wasn't enough. So the UN repealed a fundamental physical law. Buried in a sub-chapter in its 2001 report is a short but revealing section discussing "lambda": the crucial factor converting forcings to temperature. The UN said its climate models had found lambda near-invariant at 0.5C per watt of forcing.

You don't need computer models to "find" lambda. Its value is given by a century-old law, derived experimentally by a Slovenian professor and proved by his Austrian student (who later committed suicide when his scientific compatriots refused to believe in atoms). The Stefan-Boltzmann law, not mentioned once in the UN's 2001 report, is as central to the thermodynamics of climate as Einstein's later equation is to astrophysics. Like Einstein's, it relates energy to the square of the speed of light, but by reference to temperature rather than mass.

The bigger the value of lambda, the bigger the temperature increase the UN could predict. Using poor Ludwig Boltzmann's law, lambda's true value is just 0.22-0.3C per watt. In 2001, the UN effectively repealed the law, doubling lambda to 0.5C per watt. A recent paper by James Hansen says lambda should be 0.67, 0.75 or 1C: take your pick. Sir John Houghton, who chaired the UN's scientific assessment working group until recently, tells me it now puts lambda at 0.8C: that's 3C for a 3.7-watt doubling of airborne CO2. Most of the UN's computer models have used 1C. Stern implies 1.9C.

On the UN's figures, the entire greenhouse-gas forcing in the 20th century was 2 watts. Multiplying by the correct value of lambda gives a temperature increase of 0.44 to 0.6C, in line with observation. But using Stern's 1.9C per watt gives 3.8C. Where did 85 per cent of his imagined 20th-century warming go? As Professor Dick Lindzen of MIT pointed out in The Sunday Telegraph last week, the UK's Hadley Centre had the same problem, and solved it by dividing its modelled output by three to "predict" 20th-century temperature correctly.

A spate of recent scientific papers, gearing up for the UN's fourth report next year, gives a different reason for the failure of reality to keep up with prediction. The oceans, we're now told, are acting as a giant heat-sink. In these papers the well-known, central flaw (not mentioned by Stern) is that the computer models' "predictions" of past ocean temperature changes only approach reality if they are averaged over a depth of at least a mile and a quarter.

Deep-ocean temperature hasn't changed at all, it's barely above freezing. The models tend to over-predict the warming of the climate-relevant surface layer up to threefold. A recent paper by John Lyman, of the US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association, reports that the oceans have cooled sharply in the past two years. The computers didn't predict this. Sea level is scarcely rising faster today than a century ago: an inch every 15 years. Hansen now says that the oceanic "flywheel effect" gives us extra time to act, so Stern's alarmism is misplaced.

Finally, the UN's predictions are founded not only on an exaggerated forcing-to-temperature conversion factor justified neither by observation nor by physical law, but also on an excessive rate of increase in airborne carbon dioxide. The true rate is 0.38 per cent year on year since records began in 1958. The models assume 1 per cent per annum, more than two and a half times too high. In 2001, the UN used these and other adjustments to predict a 21st-century temperature increase of 1.5 to 6C. Stern suggests up to 10C.

Dick Lindzen emailed me last week to say that constant repetition of wrong numbers doesn't make them right. Removing the UN's solecisms, and using reasonable data and assumptions, a simple global model shows that temperature will rise by just 0.1 to 1.4C in the coming century, with a best estimate of 0.6C, well within the medieval temperature range and only a fifth of the UN's new, central projection.

Why haven't air or sea temperatures turned out as the UN's models predicted? Because the science is bad, the "consensus" is wrong, and Herr Professor Ludwig Boltzmann, FRS, was as right about energy-to-temperature as he was about atoms.