Scamming the scammers

So, I was smoking something officer-I-can’t-remember-purchased in Easterhouse and I came up with an idea. And it didn’t involve sneaking into a childrens’ party and switching the “Nelly the Elephant” CD for Killswitch Engage.

It can’t have escaped your notice that there isn’t anything on this Blog for a while. I’ve been busy… it’s not you… it’s me… I know I’ve neglected you, but darlin’… (I’ll stop this now, it’s starting to bug me as well).

Henceforth, I’m going to test out a wee game I like to call: “Scam the Scammer”. For a project I’m working on, I required some pictures of a girl. Not just any girl: a normal girl. Just girly wandering about. Stuff I could put on a fake Blog. Now, since I didn’t want to use any from my own archive, I thought: “Let’s use someone else’s.”

Therefore, it came to me: who’s not going mind giving me loads of pictures and not mind me using them. Russian dating scammers. They have to convince their marks there’s a real girl for them and part you from your dosh.

I was reminded of the demonically crazy Peter Dow – an Aberdeen based guy who gets his kicks from stalking university students, lecturing Republicans like me and generally spamming the planet. He put up a webpage, devoted to himself and trying to get a woman. Here: http://scot.8k.com/cgi-bin/framed/1420/lookingforawoman.htm

I took one look at the idea and decided I could use it for evil. I’d set up a fake profile, to attract some scammers and get some pictures and some kicks stringing them along a bit. Consequently, I put up a profile of www.match-seeker.com under the name Jarvis Baird, who’s a successful management consultant from Hamilton.

He has this to say about himself: “My name is Jarvis, and I'm from Hamilton in Scotland. I've become moderately successful in my career and interests, but now I've decided to take time to meet someone special, wine and dine them...”

Makes you want to boke, doesn’t it… And who does Jarvis want? “Anyone, anywhere. I want to spoil my princess and make her feel special.” Urg. I feel like I’m writing a Danielle Steele novel. Anyway, if I get any replies you’ll read them on here.

(yes I am a bad person).

Tribal Banquet

So it was last June, and I was in the Cathouse Nightclub on a friday night. I made a stop by cos I was off to Bannockburn the next day and was about to go through a weekend of folk music, mostly which I don't like.

Bannockburn, as ever, was good. The SNP make like they can't really be bothered to be there, but realise if they don't people like me will pick up the banner (and they REALLY don't want that).

At the end, it all filters out and I get ready head down to the nearest chippy to refuel before the nights festivities. Something interrupts me though, everyone is conglomerating around the sounds of drums in the distance. It was closer, after the main rally had finished, to what I would've imagined the real bannockburn would be like. Drums and pipes shaking the landscape, and no sappy Embra Tattoo band to be soon. Just a bunch of misfits calling themselves Clann an Drumma.

For a someone who thinks all instruments should be plugged in to be real instruments, it was a revelation.

Later they played in the Tartan Arms for the "do" and it was hypnotic.

Cut to some months later and the band have split into two entities. Great, I say, cos I like them both and finally listen to something that's verging on spiritual.

The only bit about their divorce I can't pretend to like is that clearly Albannach got hold of the webmaster in the divorce. For Clann an Drumma, an entity clearly beautiful, to have such a drastically ugly website is... jeez... The ideas are there, the music patently has been for years.

Check out the car crash: http://www.clannandrumma.com and tell me you disagree. For such a great outfit to have such a shitty website is strange. The animation they use is amateurish, the events listings is incoherent and both the videos they have prove their band profiles are lacking (their own forum has it's members asking who the girl(s) are/is?)

Coming out smelling of roses was Albannach, who clearly inherited the webskills in the divorce. Check out: http://www.albannachonline.com Still, would rather have two great bands than complain about a website, but the difference is patently obvious.

The Ballad of Thomas MacFarlane

Ah ken't him weel, but ah didnae ken fae whaur,
just an auld man paralysed wi' awe in the street,
hugged by a few wha were there tae greet,
an' a few fae back then wha whaur there tae greet
when the Yeomanry hud murdered Baird and Hardie,
an' were sending a' oor finest awa in a British Fleet.

The glimmer in his lonely eyes wis fur us,
a people lang remembed, a lang regretted exile
aye, ah mind Thomas MacFarlane fae the 'twenty
even though forced separation had been a while
ah mind that irrepressible spirit fae the 'Scotsmen
when ah mind that inevitable spirit I still smile.

Everywhaur emptied and cam' oot fur an auld friend,
Condorrat, Airdrie, Stirling, worker, farmer, weaver,
we would talk aboot when the radical cam merchin' hame
whaur he telt about the English laming him fur his labour
an' bein' cramped in a stinkin' ship tae get there
But nae joy could be extinguished, and would thunder

Thomas said he would fecht like Muir till his last hour
a friend of the people, united an' proud
and wid accept nae quarter fae the rest ae us
because soon the day would come, and when
we, who survived Thomas would have to stand and
mak a' liberty minded Scots a free republic then.

Strike Diary

Today I was one of one and half million Local Government workers to strike against the Labour Party's pension changes.

8am: I turn up at the office to meet the other Stewards who have joined the Picket Line. Over the following few hours the picketing was beset with various problems. Partly security guards overstepping their authority, partly members of the public who didn't know there was a strike on (jeezo guys, watch the fecking news). Because we don't know who's a Union member and who's not, we end up speaking to everyone who passes "Why are you going past the picket?" "Because I'm a builder, not a council worker!" And so on. One of the stewards complained about lack of public support (in the sense that it wasn't 100%. I argued that any visual presence was decent.

12pm: Glasgow for the Rally. We indulge a march from Blythswood Square to Glasgow Green. I point out we're switching one Red Light district for another, and what the hell are the unions thinking? Apparently I'm the only person who notices this... The turnout is 10,000 and that's magnificient. The SSP makes a decent turnout which I'm glad of, because if they're going to recruit these people (i.e. Council Workers) they had to come out in force. Unison has already threatened to withdraw support for the 2007 elections, and the SSP needed force out there, and they were very visual.

The rally speakers were all pretty good, pretty left wing. I was impressed enough to not joke as much as usual. Mike Kirby (Unison Dude) was excellent. Much better than I would've thought. All Union speakers, all left wing. Played to the crowd, remained left wing. There was even a "So why the fuck are we paying into labour!" heckle which I'm pretty sure I was the only one to cheer (other than the SSP at the back).

So, pretty good today. Fuck your Union Jack, we want our pensions back!

The Oaffice wan and twa

Spring Schedule of talkSHITE UK Radio

Spring Schedules on the UK's most right-wing group of smegheads.

Ze Breakfast Show with Adolf Eichmann

"Finally ve haff a morning show vith vhich to finally scrub the cuntry clean of ze Asylum seekers. YOU SHALL NOT PHONE YOU SHALL LISTEN!"


The Morning Program with Gorgeous George

Controversial MP George has joined the UK’s only national socialist commercial speech radio station talkSHITE as a phone-in show presenter. The first time he has hosted his own broadcast show. Gorgeous said: "Anyone that enjoyed me being a pussy on Big Brother can now hear me being one on a daily basis."


The Butcher's Apron with the Duke of Cumberland

talkSHITE opens the first in the Duke's series on political issues with a full analysis on Scottish and Welsh Independence aspirations. The series starts with "Why do all those Jock and Taffy bastards end up smelly and drinking in doors those dirty Celtic sponging bastards." Naturally talkSHITE remains as impartial as always. A london cabbie said: "They bloody come down 'ere and take our jobs after free-hundred years of us ruling and 'spect us to loike it? Fuck it, we liberated the Falklands didn't we, they should be bloody happy and stay in Jockland." [note: the cabbie seemed unaware that the Falklands were not "near stornoway."]

Tune into talkSHITE now!

The Plot Against Harold Wilson - a Review

I didn't think I'd start watching this BBC2 TV program, never mind end up being hypnotised by it. Imagine the plot to the Day of the Jackal carried out against Harold Wilson using the characters from All the Presidents Men.

Despite it's imaginative self-importance, there were several interesting nuggets tucked away, the main one being that Lord Mountbatten (who ended up as mush due to the INLA) was a Coup plotter in 1970s London against Harold Wilson.

To me, this seemed like a crisp-white shirt put on Peter Wright's Spycatcher. The program, with it's junior level spooks providing the "evidence" lacks the gravitas that Death of Yugoslavia had when it exposed it's conspiracy and which Peter Taylor's Irish Trilogy of Documentaries had in theirs. The biggest face they had was David Owen, failed Polician and failed Balkans negotiator.

Despite this, it was watchable, and exposed how close this country came to a Coup. Coming from the BBC this is surprising, but welcome. It didn't, and admittedly couldn't, go into what may have happened AFTER the alledged coup took place. Instead, and lamentably, it gave William Waldegrave the chance to crow about Democracy. How, exactly, one is supposed to draw a victory for democracy out of "Cold War Airstrip One," Private Armies plotting coups and communist infested trade unions is, to me, slightly exaggerating the pyrric victory.

But, anyway, to digress. Imagine Mountbatten DID lead his Coup and form an Interregnum Junta after toppling Labour. My own view is that Scotland was already on the brink as it was in the 1970s. Ireland was in flames anyway and Wales, well, they were slightly ahead of the Scots in the game.

Since the documentary COULDN'T make the point, I think I will. This documentary showed a number of interesting things, partly how close the Union came to it's final constitutional crisis. Neither the Scots nor the Welsh would have, or, presently, will not, accept an enforced junta.

It also shows the shape of things to come, if you really want to be THAT cynical. How WILL the ruling classes react when Scottish Independence is only a stones throw away? We know what they HAVE done, Willie Macrae's Grave marks that little example. But on a country wide level, out of the gutter of spooks and discarded guns, what does the ruling class itself do when it's ha'penny tricks don't work anymore? To me, you could see it in the tales of the coup plotters...

Bit of a paranoid / conspiracy theory'd blog tonight...

Some Random Factoids about Jack Bauer from 24

>> It's no use crying over spilt milk... Unless... was that Jack Bauer's milk?
>> Oh you are so screwed.
>>
>> The dinosaurs messed with Jack Bauer. Look what happened to them.
>>
>> Jack Bauer doesn't wish his girlfriend looked just like that Pussycat Doll.
>> Far from it. Jack is straight. Jack doesn't like transvestites.
>>
>> Jack Bauer is always far away. "This" far away from shooting you like the
>> dog you are.
>>
>> Bird Flu is a constant danger. We should never have let Jack Bauer go on
>> holiday.
>>
>> Jack Bauer gave Mike Tyson his lisp. Little bithch.
>>
>> An extract from his wedding vows: "Do you promise to love, honour, obey,
>> duck, roll, cover, shoot and look like Donald Sutherland for as long as
>> you both shall live so help your boab?"
>>
>> You cannot have safe secs with Jack Bauer.
>>
>> Jack Bauer has a sensitive side. Unfortunately it's just as violent as his
>> non-sensitive side. He likes Red Roses because of the thorns; he likes red
>> wine for the alcohol content and he likes cheerleaders because they've all
>> got Chlamydia.
>>
>> Jack Buer doesn't issue commands, he just points his gun at you until you
>> do what he wants.
>>
>> Jack Bauer's favourite quote: "I love the sound of snapped necks in the
>> morning."
>>
>> Jack Bauer's favourite colour is violet, but only because it sounds like
>> violent.
>>
>> Jack Bauer gets the "Where's Waldo?" every time.
>>
>> Jack Bauer CAN believe its not butter.
>>
>> Not even Jack Bauer can get Lynette to pick stuff up from the printer.
>>
>> the most common cause of death among middle eastern men is Jack Bauer.
>>
>> In 1921 the Belfast-built ship the Titanic sank in the middle of the
>> Atlantic. Even the laws of space and time can't stop Jack Bauer.
>>
>> There is no such thing as evolution, just animals Jack Bauer allows to
>> live.
>>
>> If Jack Bauer trips and falls, it wasn't a mistake. It was Jazz
>> interpretive dance.
>>
>> If you're running away from Jack Bauer and he shoots and misses, he wasn't
>> aiming at you. He was aiming at somebody else 12 miles away.
>>
>> You can fool some of the people, some of the time but you can't fool all
>> of the people all of the time. Jack Bauer can.
>>
>> You can lead a horse to water. Jack Bauer can make it drink.
>>
>> "It's 8am. Squirrels have stolen my cream bun and the door won't shut
>> right. I'm Jack Bauer, and this is my life. (Day not caught on film)"
>>
>> Superman wears Jack Bauer pyjamas.
>>
>> The only reason you're not unconscious right now is because Jack Bauer
>> doesn't feel like carrying you.
>>
>>

Bruce 700 Commemoration

Bruce 700th, Saturday, March 25th 2007
There will be a commemoration to mark the 700th anniversary of Robert the Bruce's coronation as King of Scots. The time and place being the Bruce statue, Bannockburn, on Saturday, March the 25th, at 1pm.
t.
There shall be a short service conducted by the Scottish Knights Templar, along with talks by guest speakers who include historian David R Ross, the president of the Celtic league(Alba) Iain Ramsay, and the irrepressible Robbie the Pic

Then, over to the King Robert hotel for pints and a blether. All welcome.

The Surrealist Dalek

I swear this is one of the funniest things I saw online tonight.

Course I may be hyper from too much coffee.

The Surrealist Dalek: "
The Surrealist Dalek
Click on the Dalek for another A lazy flashback addition to the empire of The Surrealist.
"

Video Shows Iraqi's being beaten by British Soldiers

Go to the NOTW website for the horrible video and see what your taxes pay for yourself.

News Of the World - Online Edition: "SHAMED BY 42 BRAINLESS BLOWS

By Robert Kellaway

TODAY we expose a rogue squad of British soldiers who savagely attacked a defenceless bunch of Iraqi teenagers —and with 42 brutal blows brought shame on our nation and its proud army."

2nd Part of Flicker and Two Photographs

Wandering around Cumbernauld with my camera occasionally turns out to be a fortuitous experience. I assume these were either added for Cumbernauld Park, or are a harking back to the long lost Cumbernauld Castle. Answers on a postards... (hell, even just tell me what the crest is).

From the Cumbernauld News: "...the Dovecote which took pride of place in the grounds of the long-disappeared Cumbernauld Castle. When the ancestral seat of the Flemings, Cumbernauld House was created, there it remained. It was in its own way a symbol of power as only landowners were allowed to keep and kill birds."

I'll insert merely a section continued from the last part of a short story I had on here called "Flicker". Anyway, you can see for yourself:


The Diary of Jacob Strachan - Day 2 - Voice Recording (vocals slightly garbled, but still audible above a track behind it - Coriolan by Beethoven)

The monster at the centre of the Milky Way is a serene, apocalyptic novelty from the beginnings of the universe.

First, let me take you past Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, through the Ice Giants and past that shard of frozen methane, Pluto and on, into the darkness, through that void until we pass the vast spears of Alpha and Proxima Centauri…

Continue, further, until we reach the chaos and wonderment of our Galaxy as we spin into the gravity well of the supermassive Sagittarius A Black Hole. The beast, unkempt and isolated and the centre of the dance ring, twirls like a performer and waits until straying asteroids, comets and stars find themselves slipping and fall, descend, plummet into the archaic void and breathe the stale, crushed air and dark light of the centre, the beginning, of the antipodes of our home.

All of this, crushed beyond the repair of even the most advanced civilisation.

All of this, a Ballet to your worthless heritage.

One day a brother, a remnant of long dead heavens having bred a civilisation of its own, too immense to survive for any sustained era went Supernova, collapsed, and drew the rest of the universe into itself. There were no seasons, no winds, no snow, no icy Armageddon here, but death and fear. However, it will stray into our Solar System, and on day one, swallow Pluto with little more than a smile. Day Two, it will draw Neptune and Uranus out to it with more violence, but still, no apparent regret. Inexorably drawn to the leviathans of our Solar System, Jupiter and Saturn, they will swirl and disintegrate away before your telescopic eyes, and it will be the end of time and hope. By then, we will have nothing, no hope, no fear, no four-minute warning because everything is doomed. If we are lucky, we will merely disintegrate on our own, instead of surviving the melancholy firestorm of Solar Flares previously unimagined.

The thing is, though, your civilisation will not be remembered when the Sun is pulled apart and the atmosphere ripped from the Earth in little more than an hour. Everything you have fought for, campaigned for, worked for, is now nothing but the swirling dust clouds disappearing beyond time, beyond the event horizon of the last Black Hole your civilisation will ever witness, and you will disappear into that un-calculating Id void. It’s laughable, but you are now little more than an atom, where once you were Gods.

It is cold, it is terrifying, but it is the basic building block of the universe. An example of Gravity at it’s most malingering and violent. There is no sentience; it is merely a universal law ripping a hole in space-time. It merely exists: thoughtless, cold, persistent and inevitable.

Rape the sweetheart you’ve been too shy to talk to; masturbate over the cold, dead eyes of your employer. Quickly… try to find the meaning in the novel you never read. Beat the worthless souls of your enemies to a pulp.

In the aimless brutality the universe concocted at its conception, all peace is pointless. Every second is the Revelation of Saint John. You should climb onto the stage and stand, be a preacher slamming his fist on the pulpit. Taunt the crowd with your unsatisfactory truth. Everything is disappearing into the void, and you, clearly, are nothing within this bright, beautiful, brutal cosmos.

It is your last chance to avoid being the worm swallowing earth for meaningless microscopic tunnels, your last chance to evolve, to be something more. The pretty ones want the pretty ones, so you may as well have what you want since the universe did not create morals or vague, delightful rules for a better ascension into a greater, more energetic realm. Your pretty friends created that when they lied to you. The universe wants to slam giant slabs of ice the size of your town into gas giants and water worlds. This is the meaningless heritage of your nation; it is your heirloom, your reward for sitting through your lawyers numb words when he reads you the destination alpha of the Will to the Hyenas you call your Brothers and Sisters.

I speak, humbly, as a witness.

Deus Ex Machina

"Your carnation will rot in a vase" - Derek W Dick.

Some of my Scottish readers may be perplexed by my insistant interest in Neurocam, the Austalian (initially) internet offering and even more perplexed my self-indulgent references to assignments I can't mention, and news that is of little relevance to you.

Neurocam is about perception and creativity, with tantalising echoes of 60s Spy movies and becomes a genre in of itself. Robin Hely, the alleged creator, is a genius. Those that seem to have spoke to him seem to hate the guy. I haven't and don't. I guess that's the price of genius.

I joined because I felt I had a lesson to learn in those two qualities I mentioned in paragraph two (the quote doesn't count).

And now, tragically, while I was still eager enough, it seems to have collapsed in on itself. The website is closed, there were two blogs blowing the roof off the whole theatre. A Blog by "Another Operative" and another by "Teigan" were masterpieces of anger and regret. Teigan's Blog is now free of the rage, but AO's isn't. AO's is Watergate for the Neurobabies.

On the right hand side of this page you'll notice a link that's been up there for a few months to Chris Titan in reciprocation for a link he gave me. I called him an internet prophet, and in Neurocam terms I was right. Small comfort since I fucking liked the experience thus far... He predicted everything. He might've have written the script for all I know.

I joined because it was art that seemed to connect with the disaffected. How can anyone disagree with that? Whether it was pointless or playacting it was still relevant. As Hely and at one point Teigan said: Tarnishing it is like throwing shit in an art gallery.

If it's done, then Hely has his conclusion to his artwork. As an artist myself I envy him that.

So, what can Scots learn from this? I think we tend to rant at the apathetic, rather than trying to seduce them. Neurocam seduced the apathetic of the world with an irreverence and a charm that you don't often witness. At times dodgy, at other's mysterious, and eventually it burned out like Jim Morrison and Sid Vicious. It was Jim Morrison at New Haven; Johnny Rotten spitting that: "Don't you feel like you've been cheated?" And we, as a culture, don't have that. What Scots have is tragic and porcelain and that saddens me.

So why do I want something for Scotland: perceptive, corny, mysterious and dramatic? Because we need to expand our own perceptions by delving into the surreal and confronting our own subconscious.

An Australian Artist touched the sky with something that only about perception and creativity. Tell me you don't want that for Alba... Caledonia... Scotland... Jock Tamson's Bairns...

"So make the best of this test
and don't ask why.

It's not a question
but a lesson learned in time.

It's something unpredictable
but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life." Time of your Life - Green Day

DotSCO Letters 3

Comrades,

We have three more “DotSCO” letters. Two via Red Larry in Dundee, and one to myself.

First, to Red Larry’s Letters:


Dear Mr xxxxx
 
Thank you for your letter of 2nd February regarding the campaign for a Scottish Domain Name on the Internet.
 
I am happy to state my support for the campaign. Please do let me know if there is anything practicle that you would wish me to do from my end.
 
With best wishes
 
Yours sincerely
 
Stewart Srevenson MSP


Also reply from:  Kate MacLean MSP acknowledges with thanks the receipt of your communication of 2/2/06, the contents of which have been noted.
 
(She sent this in a postcard)


Dear Mr Sheerin,

Thank you for your letter regarding a DotSCO domain name.

My colleague Rob Gibson, MSP, Convener of the Scots Cross Party Group for the Scots Language, has been actively involved in widening the dotSCO campaign, which I have enclosed a copy of two articles that were written about this last November that I hope you will find of interest.

The campaigners hope to communicate with as many users as possible, ranging from the producers of Scottish Traditional Music CDs to individuals like the current Mairi Mhor fellowship holder, Fiona MacKenzie of Dingwall. It is hoped the possibility of raising their public awareness, and association with all things Scottish, will provide the spur necessary for them to become involved and grow the campaign.
I will keep your details on file and will be in touch once I have further information on the campaign.

I hope this is helpful.

Best wishes,


Yours Sincerely,

Michael Matheson MSP
SNP-Central Scotland

Articles enclosed available on web via the main dotSCO website.



Six down out of thirteen. All positive, which is a good thing. NO LABOUR REPLIES! Can you say: “Hiding in cupboards?” Why is it so difficult to get a reply out of Labour? They can’t say it was lost. All five of my envelopes were in the same post bag, in the same sorting office in Cumbernauld.

I liked Michael Matheson’s reply. It expanded the point onto other relevant issues.

Like it.  

We’ll see where this Shinto goes.

Sheriffmuir Anti Pylons Demo and today's news

From the photos underneath this post, you can see I went along to the most recent demonstration against putting Electricity Pylons over the Battlefield Site of Sheriffmuir.

Most of the people I spoke to there seemed concerned about the numbers. Being a bit of a veteran of various protests here and there I think that it simply is a matter of momentum. You can't build anything without preparation and, more importantly, time. The fact that it's only the second demo against (specifically) the Sheriffmuir section of the Pylons and they had an increased turnout is remarkable in of itself.

In his speech, Michael of Albany said that he wanted another Demo in Stirling to try and pick up support in one of the areas affected by the Super-Pylons. Your narrator is struggling to find anything "super" about nearby kids getting Lukemia or about the inherently Labour Party ideals regarding the Bastardisation, disrespect and rampant humiliation of Scottish History.

I initially was troubled when the Chief of the Clan Fraser went up to speak. I wondered what he could possibly have to add that the actual campaigners couldn't. And, inevitably, I was proved wrong. His ancestors fought there. His ancestors repelled ten Hanoverian charges before succuming to fate and writing themselves into history. Who else better to speak for them than their own descendant?

Ken Shirra, the Knight's Templar guy, I got to admit to struggling with that one. Not the whole concept of Templarism (that's for another time) but more what relevance the bible passages he read out had? Didn't get it, but I'm an atheist, so I'm not likely to.

Carol Paterson, of Stirling Before Pylons, made a reasonably good speech outlining WHY it's a bad idea in scientific terms for the communities exposed to this Corporate violence.

So, that was all generally a good follow up, in my opinion, but clearly the ball needs to be kept rolling. Hopefully I'll have something to report on it in due course.

Next up, is news on the Nine of Diamonds Project I mentioned earlier. Someone, apparently, went around Glasgow Bookstores today with printed Nine of Diamonds with "John Maclean - RIP - 1923" and placed them in a series of books in Waterstones, Borders and Ottokars.

Michael of Albany made two appearance at the rally. Once to make his own appeal against putting pylons over the battlefield and the second to read a letter which would be submitted to George Reid, the Speaker of the Vichy Parliament.  

Introducing and managing the proceeding is Mr. Luath (I can't remember if I asked him his real name... erm... sorry).  

The two main banners.  

Carol Paterson, from a Stirling Group against Pylons like these, outlines some of the scientific evidence about the health damage the Pylons cause.  

The Chief of the Clan Macrae tells the assembly of what the Sheriffmuir means to his Clan,and ends with the Battle Cry of the Clan Macrae.