On the way to Tesco there’s a huge car sales place, mostly Vauxhall and Kia – but thousands of ‘em. And every one has two England flags poking from their windows. The 4x4s have four. The entire agency is festooned. What does it all say ? We support an entirely naff team ? I don’t know, but I do sympathise with whoever has to take it all down. By the time you read this, all the flags will be gone, to be replaced with some other sign of support. What for ? South American dentistry, perhaps.

Something else which has slipped a bit is our dear P.M’s credibility in terms of judging people. When everybody else thought Coulson a bit dodgy, Dave hired him as a mouthpiece. I’m surprised too that the ex-editor of the News of the World was found not guilty. Of anything. Most odd. A lucrative T.V. career beckons.

But I suppose the ongoing Big Thing is the avowed intent of ISIS to redraw the middle eastern map – to take it back in fact, to its pre-First World War boundaries by killing anybody who gets in its way. Of course, the West is wringing its hands for the poor people caught up in the slaughter, and worried sick about oil supplies. I mean, all these people are Muslims, right ? How can people of the same religion hate each other so much ? Well, much in the same way people in Northern Ireland do.

Said it before, but I’ll say it again – how on earth those hardy souls who write a blog EVERY day do it, I just don’t know. And those phoneaholics who wander about the place with the instrument superglued to an ear or grasped between flickering, texting, tweeting fingers. How come they have SO much to say? I’m not sure they do. Not unlike radio phone –ins. People do it because they can. “OK –over now to Roy in Castle Bromwich. Roy, what’s YOUR take on hedge funds ?

Long pause. “Hello ? Hello ?”

“Yes – go on Roy – your feelings about hedge funds…….”

“Oh yes ,well – can you hear me ?”

“Loud and clear Roy”

“Oh, well, yes, erm, it all began in 1978 when my sister tripped over a rhinoceros…………”

But I’m not a total communications luddite. I can see that in terms of intercontinental goings-on, instant contact is a Good Thing. Far better than lighting bonfires of different colours or having riders thrash horses across country to rendezvous with a Royal Navy frigate which, given fair winds, will arrive in Blighty with the months-old news that the Aussies have still got the Ashes.

Meanwhile, on the domestic front, work’s been hectic – another Good Thing. My hens are thriving, laying like mad and remain very funny, and probably amongst the most engaging creatures around. There was a distressing news item today, concerning a livestock lorry crashed on the M6. Its contents- 4000 chickens- escaped. Surprisingly, most were rounded up. Poor buggers. They were probably on their way to a disgusting battery farm. By far the best outcome of that incident would have been for ALL the chickens to escape into the countryside and establish a whole new era of Wild Chickens. They are, after all, very resourceful birds. They’d find food. Most would find safe roosts. Some would be taken by foxes. Idiot humans with guns [like the damn fool who shot the rhea recently] would account for more, but most would manage very well. Of course, the other ideal outcome would be for the battery farm owner to go bankrupt and have to take a job cleaning up chicken pooh on a humane, free range chicken farm.

There, that’s the irrational bit over with. 

Soon, I’ll be 70. How the hell that happened is a mystery. It sort of crept up. And I’ve never been a fan of Milestone birthdays – 18.21,40,50,70 etc. You get to be as old as you get to be. I’ve known some really good types who never reached 60, never mind 70, and, it has to be said, some utter ratbags who are still spreading misery and discontent at 80+. But we are going to spend a few days away, up on the North Yorks coast in a little place called Staithes, in a dog-friendly cottage right on the bay beach, which is also dog friendly, so Maggie [for it is she] will be able to hurtle about like a loony.

Anyway, all this essential reading has been written early. The month’s not over yet. All manner of things might happen in the interim. Nigel Farage might lead the Opinion Polls. Ed. Milliband might realize what a sitting target the Tory party is. I might suddenly give a damn about who manages Manchester United next and certain persuasive WOMEN with very big guns might take the leader of Boko Haram into an intimate corner and have a cosy heart to heart with him.

PS Have I spelt Boko Haram right? Don’t care. It doesn’t deserve grammatical niceties.

I was late with April’s Blog, so I’m scribbling this on the 21^st of April. Lots of time therefore, for much of what follows to become redundant before May. Mind you, one or two things will hang on, I think. Things like our strange Prime Minister claiming that the UK is a Christian country and that we [Christians] should spend more time proclaiming our faith, whilst, presumably, all other faiths in the country have a day off. Who the hell advises this man ?  This is clearly daft.

On the other hand, this government does daft rather well, doesn’t it. HS2 is daft. Going easy on Mrs Miller was daft. But Dave’s best bit of daftness is his “Happiness Index” unveiled a while ago and presumably still collecting valuable data. I know quite a few individuals who are in fact, happy, but who might well react to some clip-boarder who asks them how happy they are by saying, “Piss off !”

Of course, there are loads of things to be happy about. Like not being Syrian or Ukrainian and lots of personal bits of glee too, such as the immediate proximity of Shrewsbury International Cartoon Festival [ Sat 26^th April]. But there are stacks of things to be deeply unhappy about too.

The older I get, the more cheesed off I become with individuals who want to become mega-rich, irrespective of what they actually do, from pointless celebs to pro footballers, from arms dealers to bankers. What’s wrong with being a bit rich ? Do they need to be mega-wealthy so that they can mingle with the mega-wealthy ? There’s a certain logic there. After all, the poor mingle with the poor, don’t they ?

Soon, barring acts of God or runaway cement lorries, I’ll be 70. One of the original baby-boomers who can remember food rationing,Dinky cars, Listen With Mother starting and newscasters far more clipped and dispassionate than they are now. …….

”Earlier today, the Prime Minister, the Right Honourable Mr Herbert Sherbert was turned into a preganant elk by the leader of the Opposition, Mr    Frank Blank M.P. London Zoo has been informed. That is the end of the news .” 

All delivered in an OTT plummy voice,and followed by a shipping forecast which still contained the fabled German Bight and Portland Bill. Aaah. Those were the days. [That’s a joke. They were actually monochromatic and just a bit boring]

“There’s one !” BANG !
“Did you hit it ?”
“A bit”
“A bit ? Is it dead ?”
“It will be in about five minutes”

[Extract from conversation between spotter and marksman during the recent badger cull]

“There’s one !” BANG !
“Did you hit it ?”
“Yes”
“Is it dead?”
“Yes”
“Is the uprising over ?”
“Huh. You wish !”

[Extract from conversation between Yanukovych and sniper]

As Mr Vonnegut might have said – “And so it goes”.

Shooting stuff as a first resort doesn’t work. In Badger World, vaccinating would have been effective, but somewhere, a financial jobsworth worked out that paying [not very good] marksmen to shoot badgers was cheaper.

Yanukovych didn’t have the political nous to understand that having snipers shoot protesters wouldn’t endear him to anybody, and it certainly wouldn’t prevent a big slice of “his” country infecting the rest of the place with ideas other than dictatorship.

And has anybody PROVED conclusively that badgers are the sole infectors of cattle with TB ? No.

Persuasive evidence , a lot available via social networking, convinced west Ukraine that Yanukovych was a greedy, corrupt person, so west Ukraine got rid pdq., ably assisted by all manner of unsavory fascists as well as ordinary Ukrainians. We might feel much the same if it transpired that David Cameron kept a private zoo in the garden behind No 10. Which we paid for. Not unlike his silly HS2 railway. Which we will pay for..

Of course, that’s a ridiculously simple view of recent happenings in Ukraine. What’s going on there bears no relationship with the botched badger cull

Or does it ? So much of political decision-making depends upon the personalities involved. Yanukovych’s stupidity is shared by whoever had the final decision about badger –culling. Mr Cameron’s stupidity in stubbornly backing the ruinously expensive HS2 scheme might just be pulled back from the brink and turn into common sense IF he can somehow maneuver things so his own senior bods’ warning that HS2 would make flooding even worse appears to be HIS idea. Then he’d have an excellent reason for cancelling HS2 – which he’d dearly like to do.

Whoa ! This has become entirely too serious. So on a lighter note, I’ll bang the drum for Shrewsbury Cartoon Festival – 26^th April, all day, in the Market Square, erm, Shrewsbury. The theme this year is “Music”. It’ll be a rip-snorter. Come early to avoid disappointment.

And banging my own drum, I’ve got an exhibition of “”serious” painting at Gallery 3, The Gateway Arts Centre Shrewsbury, SY11NB,  – 17^th March to 21^st April. Private View 6.30 – 8.30 14^th March. Rumour has it there will be things on sticks and some outstandingly average wine as well as lots of non-figurative paintings. One or two cartoons may worm their way in. All welcome.

Oh dear. Late again. But fear not ! I have a shedload of excuses. One is that I’m getting ready for an exhibition of my paintings – numbering everything, titling each piece, measuring it and pricing it. This last is probably the least accurate. Its all happening at Gallery 3, The Gateway, Shrewsbury, 17^th March to 21^st April. And its all non-figurative – you know, that stuff your dog could do, except that he/she couldn’t because of an absence of thumbs, and also because they probably wouldn’t want to.

I’ve also been busy churning out quick STOPHS2 gags [see Gag of the Month] for my local action group.[They’re all over Farcebook] The government’s conduct throughout this sorry, expensive affair has been lamentable and their response to a super critical INDEPENDENT report on their silly train scheme has been suppressed via a “little – used law”

I bet Cameron and his out-of-touch rich chums would love to ditch HS2, but the hole they’ve dug is now pretty deep. In the meantime, house prices in areas like mine are blighted. Thanks Dave.

Happy New Year ! Right. That’s that out of the way. As is the alleged festive season, and soon I can risk life and limb unwinding the Christmas lights from the big fir tree outside. How on earth they’ve stayed in place through all the wind, I know not. But they did. And they were pretty. Unlike those of some of my neighbours who this year opted for Christmas lights of an un-dead blue hue.

And what of Resolutions ? Well I’m not making any. If I did, one would be not to watch any of the 5297 Cookery Programmes on the telly. But I don’t anyway, so that wouldn’t count. I wonder what the next sheepish telly craze willl be ?

How about War programmes ? It is after all, the anniversary of WW1, isn’t it ? We could designate a completely empty bit of the world, sort out a fixture list, and send all the freedom fighters, terrorists, and murderous nutjobs[inc the U.S.] there. They’d have nothing, but be given stout sticks and labels to say who they are and who they wanted to maim/hurt/kill. Teams would be limited to five-a-side. Wars would last for ten minutes. Winners would be those who maimed/hurt/killed the most of the other side. Draws would be decided by arranged marriage.

TV viewing figures would be immense. It wouldn’t work though because the rest of the world would start fighting over the results.

My 2014 sort of starts with worrying about a painting exhibition I’ve got [Gallery 3, Shrewsbury, Feb 15^th]. Galleries always ask you for an Artist’s Statement. I’ve read lots of these and quite frankly, many have their heads firmly up their bottoms. And I’ve got this thing about how the world of Fine Art is controlled and manipulated by canny agents who latch on to young artists [who actually might be quite good] encourage them to be OTT, then convince “collectors” to pay OTT prices for pickled sharks – or indeed, Dutch blokes with a mangled ear. These collectors create another currency. Not the one you and I use, but theirs, made of works of Art suffering from massive inflation which only they and their rich chums can afford.

Speaking of rich chums, Dave and his merry crew are still at the helm, aren’t they ? I do so wish that the Labour Party could come up with an utterly shattering something-or-other which will give them a landslide in the next election, and banish the greedy Tories to the political wilderness – where they’ll just have to get by on their vast unearned incomes.That would make 2016 a really Happy New Year.

Well ! Nice, fuzzy, touchy-feelie, funny Boris has morphed into what he really is ; a rich Tory who honestly believes that he is one of the Princes of the Universe. Greed is good. High IQ is good, and let the devil take the hindmost. If his speech didn’t bear directly on to this government’s policies it would be funny; Pythonesque in its condemnation of privilege. Boris pointed out that some people in the UK have an IQ of 80. Well of course they have, you Old Etonian duffer ! The AVERAGE IQ is 100. 80 PROVIDES ONE OF THE FIGURES YOU NEED TO GET AN AVERAGE !

Then this silver spoon-fed toff [IQ at least 267] went on to outline a society which in part exists already, where the rich [greedy intelligent people] get richer and the poor [those, according to Boris’s thinking, with an IQ of 100 or less] either stay poor or get poorer. THAT IS HAPPENING AS I TYPE.

What of compassion, Boris ? What of the little old ladies who find that the £200 heating allowance – probably no more than you and your privileged cronies would spend on a half-way decent bottle of wine – isn’t enough to keep them warm ?

Anyway, let’s hope that Boris’s speech helps put an end to the Torys’ disgraceful feudal rule.

Elsewhere in Stottland we’re wondering about Scots independence and as with the ongoing stupidity with HS2, failing to see how that will work financially. Maybe England should push for independence from Scotland.

Happily, I’ve got my battered little Alfa 147 back from the menders after it got smashed up by a little street-orc [IQ unknown] and it looks wonderful and can now resume its runabout duties whilst the big beast Jag remains in the garage, only growling forth for longer journeys.

And soon ‘twill be Christmas. I’ve done all my Christmas shopping [smirks slightly] and pretty soon, I’ll have printed all the cards too – once I’ve navigated Vistaprint’s infuriatingly convoluted site. Just wish my IQ was a bit higher.

You’ll note that Gag of the Month’s to do with Important People monitoring [listening in, to you and I] other Important Peoples’ phone calls. Well SHOCK, HORROR ! They don’t, do they ? Well of course they do. And saying so is about as remarkable as suggesting that “Burglars Steal Things ! “

Another statement of the obvious is that the government’s silly high speed train scheme is a non-runner. Patrick McLoughlin, Transport Secretary comes to Manchester today to try [yet again] to persuade people that HS2 is wonderful. There will be those who agree with him – like local contractors hoping for a slice of the action when building starts – but most folk oop here think its a daft idea. Even Smooth Dave’s looking for a way out, saying that if the Labour Party doesn’t support HS2, it’ll have to be dumped. Dave Blameshifter.

Bearing in mind the looming Festive Season and the Shopping Hell which precedes it, I’ve included a few helpful diagrams of people –flow through your local supermarket – of routes taken and types encountered. [providing Chris, my brilliant nephew who does all the technical jiggery-pokery needed to bring this windbagging to a monitor near you can put them up. Thanks Chris]

Something very odd happens to some human brains when the owners enter a supermarket. All sense of direction vanishes, as does an awareness of other people [not unlike the government]. Mouths hang slack. Dull eyes flick from Gingernuts to bogrolls and 72 bag packs of assorted-flavoured crisps bought – just in case.

But now its work time and a couple of gags all about wildebeest. I like wildebeest. They get a rotten time from lions and if Attenborough, who delights in showing us slow-motion films of a 700lb lion killing a baby wildebeest invited me to join him on one of his ghoulish trips, I’d shoot the bloody lion !

Oh, and PS – I’ve re-joined Twitter. Don’t ask. More on that next month.