Nothing much to see here, just a Gorgie bar that has been resurrected. Sat in the pishing rain guzzling warm beer the price of your local hourly wage – #LifeGoals and all that.
I have never been in here but denizens of the ‘hood inform me that it is okay. Perhaps the backdrop puts me off; it reminds me of the Soviet Union circa 1991. Not that I ever saw it.
Bye for now.
The current liberal/woke/SJW mission – they are in the tentative throes of an unofficial alliance these days – is their war on the past, their need to chop and change, to ‘fix’ that which does not conform to their present-day ‘world view’, to erase artefacts from another age which were celebrated in that age. Their fascistic ways are influential: we have it here with the latest act of cowardice by BBC-owned UKTV in their pulling of Fawlty Towers episode The Germans, an iconic staple of British TV originally aired in 1975 yet now derided by the aforementioned Axis of Intolerance. It has since been reinstated following counter-protests by what must be, and I hate to appropriate a Nixonian term, the Great Silent Majority.
Someone is offended! Phone the police! This war on … everything is the modus vivendi of hysteria culture. In the middle of a pandemic we now have folk trying to tear down statues of slave traders, these protesters (or whatever) wearing clobber made in Indonesia by slave children. The lack of self-awareness is almost funny.
I expect the following will soon appear on their proscriptions: anything Nazi-related, lauded TV series The Wire, the Crocodile Dundee movies, motion pictures featuring cross-dressing, The Silence of the Lambs (1991) because Buffalo Bill likes to put his willy between his legs, and Gone with the Wind (1939). Oh, wait a minute ….
What a horrible time to be alive. Plonkers.
Further reading/viewing:
Spent three hours here this morning. Walked about a bit, pissed in a bush, did some burpees on the beach, bought a packet of chicken and a can of Irn-Bru from a Co-op.
Nothing else to report.
A few cheeky ciders in the Ardmillan Hotel beer garden, getting bitten to fuck by midges and stung by ravenous wasps (the insects, not White Anglo-Saxon Protestants).
It’s a ritualistic endeavour and that’s my dream for the summer.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 