7 November 2018 (Wednesday) - An Evening In

Having set an alarm I found myself wide awake at four o’clock listening to everyone else’s snoring. I tried to get back to sleep, but eventually gave up. I got up and watched last week’s “South Park” which was rather good.
I then had my morning look at the Internet. My phone told me I had a friend request on Facebook from someone I didn’t know, but when I went to have a look there was nothing in the “pending” list. Presumably another porn-monger who has had their account deleted.
I had a couple of emails. Someone had put a comment on a blog entry from three years ago trying to advertise their gambling website. I deleted it. Geocaching HQ sent an article about someone who’s published a list of their ten favourite worldwide geocaches. There were some rather wonderful places photographed; such a shame she was brandishing some football club scarf so prominently in all of them.
And (again) Amazon was suggesting I buy what I have already bought.

Bearing in mind the traffic I left for work rather early. As I drove the pundits on the radio were discussing the recent elections in America. The Republicans did well in some areas; the Democrats did well in others. And for all that President Trump was trounced, it turns out that his preferred candidates actually won in the areas where he himself turned up and campaigned in person. For all that he might seem to be something of a rather idiotic choice of a President, he is certainly a charismatic one. Not that I’m making a comparison of politics in any way but reading history it would seem that Adolf Hitler similarly inspired the masses. Charismatic people do. It is a shame that the electorate doesn’t see through their flannel.
Did I ever mention that I’m not a great fan of democracy?

My piss then boiled as the pundits spoke about the epidemic of knife crime which is sweeping the nation. The mother of one victim was on the radio advocating the widespread availability of first aid kits and trauma packs; the idea being that there should be treatment readily available for the stabbed.
I’m sorry but what a stupid idea this would be. Given that someone has just spiked someone else, are they going to stand around whilst passers-by tend to their victims? If they stab someone, they want them stabbed.
Surely it would be a better idea to have the courts take a firm line. Put the knife-wielding scum in the stocks. Just like they did in the middle ages. Stick them in the stocks with a placard saying why they are in the stocks and let the general public pelt them with rotten fruit. And bricks.
I’m serious about this – I once worked with a chap who hailed from deepest China where his village really did have the stocks. He said this village was the most law-abiding place you could imagine. He told me he could only remember the stocks being used once. That was all that was needed. If the scum element were held to account for their crimes then they wouldn’t do it.
Just like when I was a boy at the Hastings Academy for Budding Geniuses. The Headmaster had a cane. If anyone got out of line they got two strokes (not six). One boy had a sore arse for a day: a thousand boys behaved themselves for a year. I think that is a fair price.

I eventually got to work where I did that which I couldn’t avoid. As I walked to my car my phone beeped. Would I go collect something for a friend? Of course… I programmed my phone’s sat-nav and off I went. And when I got a mile from my destination the phone froze. I was also a mile from home so I went home. I can run the errand tomorrow

Being the only night all week that we would both be home we had a rather good bit of scran and a bottle of plonk and watched the first episode of “Lego Masters”. I quite like a bottle of plonk and I quite like Lego too.
And then, just as I was getting rather sleepy my phone bleeped. A new geocache. A direct replacement for the first one I ever found. Bearing in mind I’d been in correspondence with the reviewer about replacing it myself I wasn’t best pleased to see this go live. Oh well… such is life. In protest I shan’t be publishing the twenty-two cache series I had planned to put out.
It is amazing how petty one can become over a film pot stuck under a rock…

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