OMFG – Yellowstone Eruption In 2016? Can Shakespeare Help Me?

Thanks to Kelli Shrugs for bringing this to my attention (and to Shakespeare for the prescient lines -scroll down past pic.). The full headline reads:

Yellowstone Eruption In 2016? Shocking New Video Shows What Is Really Going On At Yellowstone

Over the past week, our planet has been hit by large earthquake after large earthquake, and according to Volcano Discovery there are 38 volcanoes around the world that are erupting right now.  We have seen a dramatic spike in global seismic activity that is unlike anything that we have seen in ages, and that is why what is going on at Yellowstone, is so incredibly alarming.  Geologists tell us that a full-blown eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano would have up to 2,000 times the power of the Mount St. Helens volcanic eruption of 1980, and approximately two-thirds of the country would immediately become uninhabitable.  As you will see below, there are signs that something big is getting ready to happen at Yellowstone, and if it does erupt all of our lives will be permanently changed forever.
Read full article >>>
Not being a Bible reading type of person, in times of stress I usually turn to Shakespeare for solace or inspiration. And sure enough I found these lines which helped me understand we cannot change the course of nature and must accept the inevitable.

The night has been unruly: where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i’ the air; strange screams of death,
And prophesying with accents terrible
Of dire combustion and confused events
New hatch’d to the woeful time: the obscure bird
Clamour’d the livelong night: some say, the earth
Was feverous and did shake.
(Macbeth, 2.3)

Good old Shaky, always hits the spot.

40 Volcanoes Are Erupting Right Now, And 34 Of Them Are Along The Ring Of Fire

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The Organ Harvest Is Looking Abundant This Year

I have always said I would never have an organ transplant. Oh you’d son change your tune if your heart was giving out the fear death so much they would be happy to walk round like a clapped out old car, full of bits taken from scrappers, for the sake of postponing the inevitable. It’s ironic that most of these people claim to be atheists; if you fear death so much, get a God and a promise of redemption. Hamlet summed up their attitude:

To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;

Me? I go with another Shakespeare tragedy, Macbeth.

…and all our yesterdays have lighted fools
the way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle,
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
who struts and frets his hour upon the stage
and then is heard no more. It is a tale
told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.

Or to put it another way, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. Apart from that I have always had an ethical worry about transplant surgery. Science tits recognize no ethical boundaries, their insane desire to make us all into the creations of science would drive them on until they were dragging people off the street to ‘harvest’ (a creepy term that says it all really), healthy organs for transplant into people whose own health organs had already been harvested. (Read Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro)

One of my insane conspiracy theories you think? you really think:

Horror as patient wakes up in NY hospital with doctors trying to harvest her organs for transplant profits

A woman named Colleen Burns recently opened her eyes to find herself on an operating table in a hospital in Syracuse, NY. Looking around, she noticed that she was the subject of the operation. It turns out doctors were about to harvest her organs and send them to other waiting surgeons who would transplant them into other patients.

This isn’t fiction. It was covered by ABC News and several other news sources. It really happened. A bit like this:

Im’ not dead I’m getting better – Monty Python and The Holy Grail

(Pissing Populis, iframe for embedding video will still not work.)

Legal representatives for the hospital said it was an unfortunate mistake. Well they would, wouldn’t they.

Read full story at Natural News:

Well they need to get some money in from somewhere

Cameron, Obama and The Coriolanus Syndrome

Coriolanus is not my favourite Shakespeare play but it has it’s moments.

In today’s political atmosphere however it is no surprise people are looking at the story of a vail egomaniacal politician with renewd interest. The way the general expreses his contempt for the electorate and for democracy is so reminiscent of Margaret Thastcher, Tony Blair, Godrton Brown, George W. bush, Barack Obama and the unelected bureaucrats of Brussels who would suck us into an European superstate.

Coriolanus addresses the voters thus:

What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues,
That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs?

Which is a bit like saying “Anyone who opposes me is too stupid to understand politics and should shut the fuck up.”

His unwillingness to schmooze the voters, his insistence on telling them they are a bunch of thick, ignorant, overweight, malodorous plebs who will never be enlightened enough to understand what he is saying to them leads to a catastrophic loss of support and from there to exile (special enoy to the middle east or something?) and eventual death. What should troubles those of us who still know what democracy means is that Coriolanus seems to have judged the mentality of the ‘many-headed multitude’absolutely correctly.

Syrian Rebels Say West Is Already Aiding TheIr Uprising.
Situation South Atlantic gets worse for Cameron as Obama stick his oar in
It’s official. Cammers is a bigger twat than Blair
Humanitarian Inverventoon or The Third World War
So How Is That Hopey Changery Greeney Weeny Thing Going?
Obama Is The Real Danger To The West
Ode To Politicians (Comic verse)

Another French Hopeful With His Foot In His Mouth

To a delirious crowd of around 20,000, the Socialist candidate cited The Bard as he promised to cast off the ennui of the Nicolas Sarkozy era with a new wave of egalitarian idealism. In dismisssing Sarko the Gnome Pesidency as sans balls, sans brains and sans achievements Mr Hollande told the crowd, was best summed up by Shakespeare’s great words: “They failed because they did not start with a dream.”

Now you might well think that quoting an English poet to a French audience was what landed the socialiste candidate in le merde but no, what got hom into trouble was the Shakespeare loving French googled the phrase to find out which play it was from. And it turned out not to be Shakespearem at all, or at least not THAT Shakespeare.

The author of those words is book reviewer Nicholas Shakespeare who though descended from the fame family as his more illustrious namesake is very much alive.

Boggart Blog has these words from Shakespeare to console M. Hollande. “You can’t win ’em all son.”

That’s not William Shakespeare of course but Ernie Shakespeare, sports correspondent of the Accrington Argos as he commisserated with the losing finalist in annual Oswaldtwistle and District meat pie eating championship.

more on this

Europe does not just have a debt crisis, it has a crisis of democracy
Bank Of England To Print Money To Avoid Recession

Royal Shakespeare Company Cool Operator

I just heard on the news theatre audience members are walking out of a new Royal Shakespeare Company production at the end of the first act.

Though the play is Marat Sade, which deals with celebrated pervert the Marquis de Sade’s time in a lunatic asylum (not Midsummer Night’s Dream then?) the producers are mystified as to why it is causing such offence.

Boggart Blog thinks if the audience have come along expecting to see a musical based on the life of a pretty, talented 1980s easy listening singer one can understand their disappointment.

Shakespearte Deniers called to account

Let Down By Hope? Embrace Nihilistic Despair.

Following the shock of last week’s announcement that the Nobel Peace Prize for 2009 had been awarded to Barack Obama in spite of nominations for the prize closing only a few days after he was inaugurated as President of the United States and the winner having been decided by the end of March, less than 13 weeks into his Presidency, many political leaders and pundits have written or spoken out in support of the award. Even the chair of the committee of international great and good has had to go public to explain that the award was made on the basis that Mr. Obama had brought hope to the world.

Hope. If we are awarding prizes for hope that should not the winners medal for the London Marathon be awarded to the obese guy who dresses as Donald Duck to take part every year? Surely he sets of with more hope than any other entrant.

Hope my arse. Hope is for losers, hope is what makes drowning men clutch at straws or the guy facing bankruptcy put on his lucky shirt and head for the casino to risk everything they have left on one last throw of the dice. Hope is what makes politicians talk of green shoots of recovery even as the currency exchange rate goes down the pan.

Hope is all the religious and superstitious nonsense in the world compressed into one four letter word. Hope is a four letter word. Hope is false, forlorn and misbegotten. The hope that springs eternal springs right up your behind.

Hope is what remained cowering in the darkest corner of Pandora’s box when everything else had thrown caution to the wind and made the great leap into the unknown. Hope is the last refuge of those who cannot face reality. Hope is for fools.

Delve into literature and we soon get things put in perspective:

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow
creeps in this petty pace from day to day
to the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
the way to dusty death…
Macbeth, Act V Sc 5

Macbeth had not time for hope then, he faced the inevitable with grim resignation thus showing that all talk of hope is empty, we all end up at the same destination. So many people spend their time looking for, hoping for a Messiah who will save and protect them and lead them to a Utopian future in a magic land bathed in golden light. The wise few are enjoying every moment of every day knowing we have all too few days left. Still even when our bodies become frail we can still laugh at the comical antics of the pompous fools who think their empty words and grandiose promises can fork some lightning and change the nature of things.

“We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars,” said Oscar Wilde when he was looking at a stretch in Reading Jail. At least he understood that while we can look at the stars we can never touch them.

So where does hope stand in relation to reality. Shakespeare can guide us again when we are troubled about what the future may hold:

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Hamlet, Act 3 Sc 1

Having clarified things in his mind with these words Hamlet decides “Thus conscience makes cowards of us all.” Hope is for those who fear death, the great unknown more than they fear life. It is without a doubt nobler in the mind to take arms against an endless sea of troubles and by opposing end them than to sit in a dark corner of a little box holding hands with hope. A Saxon scribe recorded the words of one renowned warrior who said that we are all cowards, courage lies in having the will to overcome fear and face death joyously knowing we have done our best and could not possibly do more.

To me that beats listening to some preachy wuss wimping on about hope and singing Kumbaya while relying on divine intervention to save us from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

The award of a Nobel Peace Prize to Obama because he “gave hope” is as ridiculous as giving Billy Graham an honorary doctorate in evolutionary science. If hope is all we have against our endless sea of troubles we have nothing.

So if you have been let down by hope and can’t find the will to overcome adversity, embrace nihilistic despair. It offers nothing so you cannot be disappointed.

Government By Organized Crime?
Barack Obama Museum Of Creation
Live Forever or Choose Life

Fear and Panic and H.P. Sauce.

Those two fiery – eyed black horses that in ancient Greek myths pull the chariot of Greek war god Ares have galloped though Boggart Blog many times and today they are with us again in spirit if not in actuality. Phobos and Deimos or Fear and Panic in English do not work for an ancient pagan god now but for the dark forces of authoritarianism and their evil henchmen The Politically Correct Thought Police who use these mythical beasts to inflate trivial risks in our minds to the proportions of imminent catastrophe. Thus they persuade We The Punters into meekly surrendering age old liberties and hard won civil rights in the name of The War On Terror.

The war on Terror is no more a real war than Phobos and Deimos are real horses. What are real are the wars on individualism and common sense. It is not a new political ploy of course. In Shakespeare’s play Henry IV part 2 King Henry asks his son Prince Harry:

Therefore, my Harry,
Be it thy course to busy giddy minds
With foreign quarrels; that action, hence borne out,
May waste the memory of the former days

Fear and Panic. It worked then and it seems to be working now. All we have done is substitute the word terror for “foreign quarrels”. Brainwashed by scare stories or terrorist conspiracies spread by government and media we overreact grossly to the most trivial incidents.

The malaise has spread through all levels of society, even the security forces have succumbed. In 2007 we had armed police shooting an innocent Brazilian in the face seven times because he had slightly swathy skin and a shoulder bag that could have carried a binary liquid explosive but in fact carried his lunch. If the people charged with protecting society from “evil doors and people of Evelyn Tent” who can we rely on to protect the peace?

Well not the Police force obviously if an incident involving two of Londons’s finest reported in this week’s news is anything to go by. When a “potentially harmful substance” was thrown through the window of a patrol car at these two intrepid peacekeepers they called at once for medical assistance, were rushed to hospital, examined and treated. The substance was then analysed and found to be HP Sauce.

So what happened to normal human responses to being hit by something gooey and slimy? First the sense of smell ought to be called on: Does it smell like shit? No, bit vinegary and fruity maybe…OK so far . Next step is the sense of touch: Is it burning as a strong acid or alkaline would? No… OK so far. Next step is sight: Get a bit on the fingertip. Does it look dangerous? No … OK so far. Finally the truly brave person might risk employing the sense of taste and having dabbed the fingertip on the tongue ask: Does it taste like a new weapon of mass distraction developed by terrorists to kill us in our homes and places of work? No; it tastes like HP Sauce.

Conclusion: if it smells like HP Sauce, tastes like HP Sauce and looks like HP Sauce it probably is HP Sauce.

If you apply the common sense test in all situations you will not loose your grip on reality every time Phobias and Deimos gallop through your life.

FEAR AND PANIC are among us all the time along with suspicion, mistrust and paranoisa. Have a look at Ian’s comic poem You Just Can’t Be Too Paranoid and you’ll see what we mean.

UPDATED 23 Feb 2009
This is getting beyond a joke. Among the attacks on civil liberyies being attacked while we are distracted by Phobos and Deimos is our freedom of movement. The government’s ID cards scheme will enable the authorities to track our movements 23/4 in the interests of national security ( ID cards create second class citizens )This is not what we voted for

Updated 26 Feb 2009:
Hazel Blears says we must engage with extremists. What the Government must do is stop bigging up the terrorist threat in order to lubricate the passage of new laws aimed at shafting our right to privacy and our civil liberties. We the punters are saying to would be terrorists “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.” It’s the government who are cowering behind Whitehall’s security barriers.

The Government may spread fear and panic about terror when they want to erode our civil libertties but who is really looking after our Homeland Security
UPDATED 7 March 2009: As Plane Stupid protesters drench Peter Mandelson with custard in a protest against the Heathrow 3rd runway Ariane Sherine says schoolyard taunts are the best way to belittle the pompous.

Confessions of an English Teacher (Coronation Street)

Ooer Missis, its all going on down Coronation Street.

Its time to say I think the soap opera writers just push it too far at times. All fiction requires suspension of disbelief but really lines have to be drawn.

At the moment Corrie has a storyline running that involves middle aged but OKish attractive knicker – stitcher Sally trying to better herself by getting a degree in literature (and when you consider some of the types who have degrees in literature, this is a laugh for a start.) Not being the most academically gifted knicker – stitcher in the world Sally was soon struggling with Shakespeare’s The Tempest. Now you would think a character who only exists on television would take to The Tempest, after all, fiction characters are such stuff as dreams are made of. But no, Sally did not get it, so she booked some private tuition with local English teacher John, despite the fact that she tends to fall in love with any man who talks to her in a civil way. Sure enough she only has to hear him say “thou art more lovely and more temperate” to develop a huge crush on John. But this is soapland and ‘ere long cold winds are shaking the darling buds of May. John’s girlfriend Fiz, a fellow knicker stitcher of Sally has noticed the star pupil had a crush on her man and even Sally’s dim witted hubby Kevin is starting to suspect there is something going on. You can always spot that Sally is in love with yet another middle class slime ball, she stops giving Kev his pie and chips and starts trying to make him eat cous-cous.

Meanwhile dastardly John, while teaching Sal about Shakespeare’s Darling Buds has been shaking the darling buds of Rosie, Sally’s winsome sixteen year old daughter who has also been enjoying her private lessons with John who was her techer in school. Sex pot Rosie, not the usual self – obsessed teen has actually noticed her Mum’s crush on John and has taken to ripping her outer clothes off and prancing around in Agent Provocateur undies whenever John is giving Sally one…erm…an English lesson. Sadly for Sally, young Rosie fills her bra better than her Mum ever did.

Meanwhiler, Fiz is fighting for her man and worse, the other knicker stitchers who know Sally is “no better than she ought to be,” and think she is a snob, are on Fiz’s side.

Desperate to get John’s attention focused on her once more, Sally even sprayed Kev’s pie and chips with air freshener lest the smell stimulated in John appetites other than those she planned to satisfy. This gave Kev several kinds of cancer plus grounds for divorce.

Its all went up in smoke on Bonfire night, Sally confessed her love to John, who straight away told Rosie. Soon Rosie will tell Fiz to divert suspicion from herself and everyone will tell Kev who will buy himself another meal of pie and chips. In the ensuing mayhem it will emerge that John has been boffing Rosie. Fiz, Sally and Kev will kill John, the dog Schmichel will eat Kev’s pie and chips and Fizz will develop Lesbian tendencies and eat Rose.

See what I mean? It just goes way over the top. It is pushing the limits of drama too far, stuff like that could only happen in real life.