SEASON'S MEMORIES

I'm not like those Curmudgeons in CURMUDGEONS INC.ⓒ who don't like Christmas.

It's true that I don't follow religion and all that nonsense but Christmas for me brings back happy family memories.

This is the music my parents listened to which I too like now:

BERLIN CABARET

DECK THE HALLS WITH ....

...... no, that was a different time and place. In New Zealand Christmas time is in mid Summer.

No snow covered pine trees, blazing fires and holly. It's more like beach trips, swimming, outdoor BBQs and getting drunk in the sun.

I'm going to catch up with some old friends and go for a frolic.

"I'm sure that I could pull these birds if I tried"

I could ask one of my neighbours to join me to make it a double date but I'm worried that as he's gotten older he's also gotten stranger. Maybe it's the medication interfering with the chardonnay.

I've noticed that my friends are getting stranger as they age. I cannot see a difference in my own behaviour as I feel that I'm still thinking as ,and doing the things the same as, when I was twenty. I guess it's just them and inferior genetics.

After some beach frolics and, with luck some hanky-panky I think that I'll climb a few of the mountains around where I live. When I say mountains they're not like the ones I remember as a boy with edelweiss growing at the top. No, they are called mountains just like the Welsh call their hills mountains. At the top of these it's usually manuka, and punga growing with, if you're lucky (and quick) some electric puha. This can really get the Christmas spirit going (not that silly old Holy Ghost thing).




Since Benny died I haven't had anyone to correspond to who has the same religious, political and national  socialist outlook. The new guy is OK, more on the socialist leaning side. I like him because he stirs things up a bit. I wish he'd really have a go at all of those mealy-mouthed christians catholics who follow him but I guess that he has to toe the line a ..... hold on.... he doesn't have to toe the line. They can't impeach a pope -they can murder them as has happened over the ages and I think as recently as 1978 with John Paul I, but that's just a risk of the job, surely.

"What do you think Goddy?"

The new guy Francis wants to change The Lord's Prayer. That's good. Richard's goddy pal Angry Jesus has  had a half-arsed go at it see: HERE

But the silly old guy can't even get his pope's sorted out so I don't hold out much chance of his new prayer being accepted.

Anyway, Francis maintains that the current wording that says "lead us not into temptation" is not a good translation because God does not lead humans to sin. His suggestion is to use "do not let us fall into temptation" instead.

Personally I think that this is just being a bit pedantic. Catholics and other christians are not exactly known for their attention to detail and understanding of facts and reality so as they've gone on for ages parroting this prayer, why change it?

Oops! I think I've wandered off my Christmas them there. Sorry about that and Fröhliche Weihnachten.

PUNISHMENT

Mein Gott!
This is the sort of thing that went on in my homeland years ago. Thugs in the night intimidating innocent and not so innocent citizens.

This Baxter and Angry Jesus need to be given a lesson.

I'll volunteer to dish it out.

PHOENIX

TROY - SINEAD O'CONNOR

She was so beautiful - and that voice!

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"You will rise,You'll return,The phoenix from the flame,You will learn,You will rise,You'll return,Being what you are,There is no other Troy, For you to burn"

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 I feel as if I've risen from the flames like that Phoenix. I've kept low for the last three years just getting on with my business but have been stirred.

Yes, I know what you're thinking - you think that the new Labour government has been the 'alarm clock' but you're wrong - not entirely though. It's very exciting for sure and I'm hoping that things will go very well Trevor Mallard fiasco or no Trevor Mallard fiasco. At least we don't have a ponytail-pulling pervert at the helm.

I'm a realist, an opportunist and a chameleon so adding phoenix to my attributes is easy. I've seen many changes in social order, political affiliations and socio-economic situations and have been able to adapt myself to suit. Recently the rise of corporatisation is having widespread effect on everyones lives so will have to be considered.  Our lives are now being more led by commercial companies than by religions or governments. Many of the biggest corporates hide themselves behind a facade of 'social usefulness' so aren't recognised, particularly by the younger generations as being the avaricious capitalists they really are.

Modern social media, computer and global retail companies - you know the ones are getting away with things that used to be frowned upon and even illegal - like tax evasion, tax avoidance, anti-competitive practices, transfer pricing - all sorts of things that the capitalist railway barons, mill owners, shipping owners and oil companies of yesteryear used to do.

Anyway. I've risen and come to the realisation that sometimes, if you can't beat them it's better to join them. A social media friend - Good Kiwi Bloke alerted me to the fact that THE CURMUDGEON has reinvented itself and created a phenomenally successful enterprise named CURMUDGEONS INC. which is a tight association of leading edge blogs. The core of these are wholly owned subsidiaries of
CURMUDGEONS INC. but there is the opportunity to be financially linked which GKB and me will explore.

Annexation incorporation is the new religion so we'd all better get praying.

NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN

I've been living quietly for some time in my chosen country, keeping a low profile (well I am quite short) and enjoying the relatively non-political climate that exists here.
Day to day life is not political. I can shop, play, work and perve on observe my neighbours without peril.

All has been good.

In the past it hasn't really mattered which ruling party has gotten into power as basically they've had the interests of the country at heart.

 Sure, in the past National stood for the landed aristocracy and well heeled professional classes

and Labour for the working man.

This changed in the 1980's, interestingly under two Labour governments who blurred the distinctions between 'the working man' and the new entrepreneurs who mostly turned out to be absolute dishonest asset stripping bastards. Even the so called good guys like Graeme Hart have made far too much money that has to have come from the pockets of deserving millions of Kiwis (note how the bloody media this week fawned all over this bum because he's bought a 75 million dollar bloody boat - and didn't even spend that in NZ).

Now, in 2014 the field has changed and definitely not for the better.

True Blue National with the vested interests of landed aristocracy, new plutocrats and still the well heeled business classes have had their ranks swelled by the traditional Labour voter who has become wealthy through an overheated property market.


Unfortunately the Labour ranks have been diminished through defection and the vote split by the advancement of a whole lot of whining and scrapping minority parties who simply would not have existed prior to the introduction of the ridiculous MMP.

Basically the country is on the brink of disaster.

I've seen it before in a previous lifetime.

Overriding of the people's will because 'the people' have split themselves.
Look at National's record recently. A couple of examples are total disregard of the majority's opinion on asset sales and alcohol regulation reform.



Result. Fascism.

TRAMPING

I found my old campaign boots today and decided to try them out.
I don't go out much nowadays so I'll be wearing them around the apartment tramping from one room to the next.
'Tramping' is I think a peculiar New Zealand word meaning to hike. Why 'tramp' I wonder?
Tramps were men of the road - either out of work or not interested in working who made their way from town to town to town living on hand-outs. The modern day equivalents are the down and outers you see cluttering up doorways in the main cities.

Richard of RBB's brother has just written and produced an album  on the life of one famous old New Zealand tramp. His name was Shiner (not Richard's brother, his name is Chris).

See the link here:

THE SHINER

American's use the word 'bum' instead of tramp when referring to vagrants and travellers. 'Tramp' to them is a woman of dubious morals. It's an example of the differences in language that can lead to misinterpretation. An American in New Zealand saying "I picked up a bum on the road the other day" would undoubtedly draw strange looks. Similarly a New Zealander in the USA saying "I think I'll go tramping today" might be misinterpreted.

Anyway, off I go to the kitchen and I might scale the wardrobe later.

RAINING TODAY

I don't mind the rain. It gives me a chance to indulge in my drawing.

SUMMER SPORTS

I've never been a very sporty person, preferring to indulge in indoor activities. With Summer here though and temperatures rising one feels the need to join the others in recreational pursuits.

I went to my local beach and discovered that there just wasn't room even for a little chap like me.

It was back to the apartment then, turning on my television for recreation.
Feeling slightly guilty I decided to check the sports channels so as to appear to be doing something manly. Most of the games being played were too fierce, overly energetic or just plain boring.
I did find one sport that looked appealing though and have settled in to watch it to its conclusion:

WAITING

HEARING VOICES

One of the outcomes from my course at Dr Hinkelmanns's academy for the advancement in manners and social standing was an explanation as to why I had been hearing voices most of my life. Dr Hinkelmann told me that I had an alter ego sitting on my shoulder making suggestions that would drive my bad behaviour and that I had to learn how to  only listen to the good suggestions. After being told that, I concentrated hard when looking in the mirror and one day I could see my alter ego.

I named him Noel. For the life of me though I don't know why he was a schwarzer. He would try to embarrass me at every opportunity by making me stare down women's blouses, ogle their legs and bottoms and even, once, to stand under the stairs and look up their skirts. Noel was bad. When caught out I would try to explain that it wasn't my fault, it was Noel's but as people couldn't see him they just gave me funny looks and moved away quickly. Sometimes I would get slapped. This was socially embarrassing but privately very enjoyable and would lead me to another level of erogenous experimentation. More later.

SELF IMPROVEMENT

My lack of success in finding the right companion of the opposite sex (and not a weird one) made me wonder if there was something wrong with me. The self doubt led me to investigate ways of making myself more charming, more desirable and an overall better person. I enrolled in Dr Hinkelmanns's academy for the advancement in manners and social standing. This was a 12 week course of very strenuous exercise, healthy eating, facial and scalp massages and instruction in polite conversation, politics, economics and social graces. The results were outstanding. I was ready to face the world again. More later.

GOING DOWN

Having given up on Minnie I decided to have a go at Matilda, her older sister. Matilda wasn't as good looking as Minnie but as I was getting older I thought that I should lower my standards a little like some friends of mine who would court the ugliest, fattest and most unpleasant females in the hope of 'getting lucky'.
Matilda I must admit was strange, even by my standards. She used to like to dress up and have me do the same. "Oh well" I thought, its means to an end. One day I thought that I had 'got lucky' when Matilda said that she had discovered the joys of diving and invited me to her rooms to indulge.

The reality was a bit different from what I had envisaged. More later.

FIRST ROUND

The mad Manowski sisters played with my affections for a while and no matter how hard I tried to play with them they wouldn't let me near other than being astride a bicycle. I grew frustrated and decided that the only way forward was to make  declarations of love supported by the true intention of marriage.
I approached Minnie Manowski first, thinking that as the youngest she might be the most vulnerable. 
What I didn't know was that somewhere back in her past she had been mistreated or jilted or something and was very defensive in her dealings with young men. All of my attempts at intimacy, no matter that they were couched in fervent declarations of true intention, were rebuffed. I had, in my rooms, contemplated how I might slip my hands down her blouse or up her skirts but the reality was quite different. I was unable to get even near an embrace without a severe boxing around my ears. 

Alas, after months of trying and suffering from mild concussion, I abandoned my pursuit of Minnie. More later.

PLANCKING

The teenagers are thinking that they have invented the new craze 'planking'.

 Huh. When I was young we used to do the real thing with old Max.

Max was my physics tutor in Berlin and on Friday nights we would have fun watching him get pissed in the beer hall. He would usually proclaim "My unavailing attempts to somehow reintegrate the action quantum into classical theory has extended over several years and caused me much trouble" before going completely rigid. My fellow students and I would carry him out each week and position him on top of different places of interest around the city. We called it 'Plancking'.

Nothing new under the sun I guess.

KNEE TREMBLER

Eventually my endless perambulation came to the notice of some ladies. They also had an interest in bi-axle rotating transportation, albeit for different reasons than my own. I was seeking solace between firm yet mysteriously soft thighs. They were just crazy. The mad Manowski sisters, unknown to me, had a reputation around town.

They were rich. Filthy rich but unfortunately the filthy aspect was just a measure of their wealth, not of their disposition. After a few Sunday's circuits of the park and nearby boulevards they invited me home to their villa. Villa was an understatement. They lived in a huge and well maintained city residenz that gave me a strange tingling in the nether regions.

We dined, listened to music (a most disagreeable double bass performance) and retired to a drawing room for schnapps and brandy. Even though Agnes the hen had rather diminished my functional capabilities at an early age I still thought that this night was going to be the big experience. Imagine my disappointment and frankly my concern when the 'drawing room' was in fact some sort of gymnasium and the sisters were all set to play. Play what I wondered. More later.

BONE SHAKER

As I grew older it dawned on me that the smoking not only wasn't making me look debonaire enough to pick up women, it was also making me unfit. I decided to exercise a bit more and took to perambulating around the local park on Sundays with mein freund.

We got some amazed looks which I put down to the fact that I was dressed in my Sunday best. After a few months of this I still hadn't attracted the attention of the opposite sex so more drastic measures were called for. More later.

FEELING HORNY

Eventually I realised that I couldn't rely on just my good looks and the cultivated debonaire pose to pick up women. I had to have a schtick. I read that young women were impressed by musicians, liking their 'dangerous' edge, so I borrowed an instrument and began hanging around in bars and cafes with it. I couldn't play anything so hoped no-one would ask me to. Strangely no one did.

It was only later that I learned that women liked jazz musicians and none of them played the French horn. More later.

SMOKING TO LOOK COOL

As I grew older I was aware, from watching cigarette advertisements, that smoking was cool and sophisticated. I cultivated a 'lounge lizard' pose that made me look quite debonaire I thought.

I was usually so concentrated on the pose at parties though that I often didn't notice interest from eligible young ladies and missed out on opportunities. More later.

SMOKING

Another reason for giving up football, other than Anselme beating me up all the time, was that my fitness level was low due to my smoking

I had taken up the habit at an early age and it became a big part of my life. Mother and Father weren't around to discourage me and nanny thought that it made me look rather sophisticated. More later.

OFFSIDE

Mein freund and I played along well for a while but eventually we became disgruntled with each other. He said that I didn't follow the rules, in particular, the off-side rule. He went to great pains to explain to me what I was doing wrong. For my part I couldn't understand the rule and, even if I did, it should not apply to us as there were only the two of us playing. Our debates went on and on until Anselme would eventually wrestle me to the ground and pummel me senseless. Oh friendship. You can't beat it.