Archive for end of the world

Aliens, I am disappoint

Posted in Mortal Musings with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 30, 2013 by Mortal Mikey

Anyone who spent at least half an hour reading into the Mayan calendar talking point last year, would have quickly realised that it had very little to do with the end of the world at all but more about a significant time in our earth’s history. Still, I witnessed hundreds of people on social media sites talking about how tanked-up they were going to get that night, being that the world might end. Dozens of invites to nightclubs filled my news feed, proclaiming that the drinks are cheap, so dress up like a slut and dance until your recycled plastic stilettos fall off, because the worlds going to melt.

Upside down dancing arrived to late to catch on

Upside down dancing arrived to late to catch on

There was no running from gaping lava pits, no fire hail, no asteroids, no aliens, nothing. The drinks were quite reasonable but similarly to every other weekend, many people woke up the next morning, poisoned and shaking in bed, with their ears ringing from some endless high frequency Dub Step synths, instead of a DJ respectively putting together a playlist of the several thousand tracks of masterfully composed music, from throughout human history.

Armageddon and Red Bull please

Armageddon and Red Bull please

If it was the end of all of us that night, we failed to do it right, that’s me included. I spent my evening in a large country manor house partying with people who were just about legal to drink, wide eyed and gurning to heavy bass music. The night was advertised as a 1920’s gangster style affair, with performers and light shows that would mesmerise and entertain. In reality it was a couple hundred young people dressed up in their grandparents clothes, sweating and bumping into each other through strobe lights and smoke. I thought for a moment what it would be like for a time traveller to have accidently wound up in that place at that time. He or she would probably think something had gone terribly wrong with the machine and arrived in a parallel dimension, making written history irrelevant, sat in the corner reduced to tears, with their head between their knees being ignored by the mayhem around them.

Dr Boo Who

Dr Boo Who

My schoolboy fantasies about myth and mythologies were crushed by my thirst for knowledge. I found that the ancient Greek camp fire tales had survived the test of time because of their underlying eternal messages about time, morality and mortality. Similarly, god or the god my white working class school chose to enforce, didn’t create everything in a week and Jesus was born in the middle east and therefore didn’t look like Harrison Ford with a beard, as many television productions and illustrated books liked to portray. How the fuck did he find men with names like Matthew, Mark, Luke and John in Israel at that time?

All of the myth, legends and supernatural books I used to read were often illustrated, drawn reconstructions of personal accounts, occasionally backed up by some badly processed photographs with a hazy creepy figure stood next to an even more intimidating real person. You come to realise famous photo’s like the one of the Loch Ness monster is probably nothing more than a swan caught on some fishing line, dragging a few plastic bags. Bigfoot could well be a tall terrified homeless man, running away from some deer hunters.

I’ve always been fascinated by things out of the ordinary…conspiracies, monsters, aliens, ghosts and the Welsh. I’ve been here almost thirty years and all but the Welsh have been complete and utter disappointments thus far. The question that often appears in scientific circles from year to year is ‘Who is out there?’. After years of casual researching, reading and watching events documented by our race, I start to ask the question “Who gives a fuck?”.

I was listening to a two and a half hour talk recently between someone who I really like, Joe Rogan and a guy I believe is far beyond our help. His name is Steven M. Greer, he’s the kind of guy who would be as creepily passionate about selling cleaning products to you, as he would trying to sell you the idea that we are defiantly not alone. This guy was the founder of the disclosure project and now he claims that he can call upon UFO’s to appear before your eyes. He has that stirring madness behind the eyes as if has actually been violated by ‘the greys’ and the polo shirt and khaki work pants combo at literally every public appearance that just screams molester.

"So the UFO was like, wup wup wup wup"

“So the UFO was like, wup wup wup wup”

As someone who has sat and watched hundreds of UFO videos on the internet, I can spot a fake in the first couple of seconds of the clip. Years ago I would get all excited if something appeared genuine but now, I feel nothing. My passion for the hunt is nearly all but gone…the creeping realisation that even if the video showed the craft land, something getting out and taking a slash in the bushes before taking off again…what difference would it make?

We fired a binary message into space in the 70’s detailing what we are, where we live and how many there are of us. The public were led to believe this was intended to make contact with extra-terrestrials in another galaxy (25,000 years away to be exact) but because it is that far away, the experiment was merely to show off what we could achieve in a technical sense. It is highly probable that no one ever, will hear or see that message, it would have been more productive projecting Steven Hawking’s face on the moon.

It is more likely however, that aliens have accessed our endless stream of alien invasion movies from our internet and wireless feeds. They would see Ripley, the bald potty mouth from the film Aliens, emptying magazines into ET’s simply for being hungry. Or witness the Fresh Prince punch an alien in the head after having downed it with a fighter jet smoking a cigar. The alternative is that they were there watching when we sent that message, intercepted it and metaphorically ripped it up and threw it in the bin. We’re their dirty little experiment and we provide them with too many laughs to allow another civilisation to come and take our cows and anal probe hill billys.

Just yesterday I read an article about one company’s proposal to send several humans on a one way ticket to Mar’s.

“So long as you’re over 18 and “have a deep sense of purpose” and “the capacity for self-reflection, you have a shot.“

Well that’s me out because I only have a deep cynical sense of purpose and I think too much to feel the need to go to a planet where literally nothing happens. Since August 2012 the NASA Mars rover, which looks like they took a lot of their notes from the film Short Circuit, has found some evidence that suggests, water. That’s one of the main goals for the eight gazillion dollar robot mission, to find some evidence that at some point, water. Countless people on this rock, which as we all know is covered in the stuff, can’t find enough to drink, why the fuck are we looking on another planet for it?

Why you need to be over 18 years old for this trip is beyond me, what has age got to do with doing nothing? If anything the majority of humans under the age of 18 want to do exactly this kind of activity.

Does no one realise that in the space of 24 hours on Mars they may be asked to “Sweep radioactive dust off the roof”, or “tighten the magnetic coupler.” During a fire storm. You’re not going to be joining the leagues of Columbus or Magallan. Columbus found America…a huge land mass full of breath-taking landscapes, millions of different animals and a really liveable climate. So obese humans, less natives, TV, fast food, strippers, guns, race tracks, theme parks and drugs is what we contributed that to the land but if there’s one thing that can be said about the U.S.A, it aint boring.

Anything half decent on Mars is going to be whatever we take, or anything we build.

Many questions were answered in regards to space in 1969, when several human beings were fired at the moon in what could have been the most expensive coffin ever made. They took with them, an off road buggy, a flag, a camera and some golf clubs and I bet they were fucking thankful for that because sure enough, after looking at the moon for centuries through advancing technology, we finally come to realise there is indeed, no air, no aliens, absolutely fuck all but moon. It’s no wonder why we haven’t gone back, once you’ve played golf, drove around for a bit, stuck your flag in the ground and taken your pictures…what else Is there to do? I have more interesting drink and drugs related stories including many of these activities, right here on lovely warm, breathable planet earth and all it cost me was a week’s wages and my dignity.

Where's that chick with three tits?

Where’s that chick with three tits?

Recently I had to pay a family friend a visit in hospital, here in England. Sadly you’ll find that it’s not much like a Star Trek medical bay but instead it’s like hanging around a zoo where all of the zookeepers have no idea what the animals are. In contrast, I’ve watched a surgical robot on YouTube peel a fucking grape, I’ve seen a man with no arm with a replacement carbon fibre one, with which he pours his beer. So before we start broadcasting Big Brother on Mars, or go and see if there is bacteria in a ditch on Jupiter, we need to have a nice tall glass of shut the fuck up and re-think what we’re all doing.

So this is a request, no, more like a demand. If there is alien life out there, here even, someone please tell us and back this up with digital 1080p HD video and audio or I will flush your head down a toilet. If you can request a visit from UFO’s, do this, make it happen, invite us all via YouTube, Facebook and TV and let us in on the action. Or even better, if you’re are an alien race, come and save us from killing ourselves through boredom. I’m no longer fascinated by your strange looking craft, or the apparent experiments you wish to perform. I want to visit your digs, smoke a cigar with you and sample your beer. Your time is now.

 

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Christmas and 2012, a review

Posted in Mortal Musings with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 7, 2013 by Mortal Mikey

If like me you live on the small island of Englandshire-upon-avon-ton, you will have recently celebrated Jesus baby Jew day. Or as we like to call it, Christmas for short or ‘Xmas’. Which happens to be a really lazy abbreviation of ‘Christ’s mass’ or from the old English Anglo Saxon speak ‘Crīstesmæsse’.

Being a non-Christian myself I have no desire to celebrate the birthday of someone’s else’s child, especially one born in a shed, under suspicious circumstances. But I don’t mind the tradition of exchanging gifts, as the three wise men did in the heavily edited version of the bible people in England seem to prefer.

Myrrh, now that’s a strange gift to give anyone. You’ve just given birth to a boy in ancient times, with no medical assistance, being watched by a donkey and the one thing a ‘wise man’ deems to be the ideal gift for the baby, is a plant used in Ayurvedic medicines, which smells nice when you burn it. I guess when buying for the son of god, you would have a hard time walking around the local market, thinking of something he’d like. But he was a new born, so really everything you buy is a waste of time as all he’ll do is eat, or poo on it.

After a brief investigation, the plant could have been for Mary, the person who really needed some comforting after the ordeal of natural birth with no drugs, in a shed.

Reading about Myrrh on Wikipedia, the plant in one photo looks strangely like a uterus (bottom left of picture)…myrrh has been known for its ‘blood moving’ properties…like removing stagnant blood from the Uterus. Check it out…

myrrh

This reminds me of recent scientific findings that walnuts are good for the brain and that kind of thing…the theory is, if the food bears a resemblance to a part of a human being, then it very well might be good for it. Then that does make you think, fish is a good source of nutrients for the brain…what does a fish look like? A fish. Maybe they’re wrong, maybe they meant face. A fish is just a face that swims.

wtfish?

I can’t find a comparable pain to child birth in my imagination, except perhaps several hours of Xmas shopping, sorry, Christ’s mass shopping.

People complain about how lazy the English language has become in recent times, proclaiming that it is now ‘dumbed down’ and lazy txt spk. In reality, they’re right, but many of us don’t even have time to speak properly anymore, you might as well carry a stop watch with you in Britain, because at every opportunity someone or something, is trying to encroach on your personal time. You can’t park anywhere legally in England unless you park well away from where you require to be, and when you do find a small section of legal land for your earth scarring 4×4, you have a set time limit to shop, to then run back to the car before one of the faithful drones for the local council ruin your day.

Traffic wardens in today’s Britain wear a seemingly Nazi styled uniform, utilising CCTV and an array electronic equipment, they take several photographs of you vehicle from different angles and upload them onto the internet, like a social media activity for cunts.

3,2,1..Ticket!
3,2,1..Ticket!

I guess the only good thing to come from the traffic gestapo, is that if you’re caught, you can save the photos from your local council website and use them for use in advertising your car, once they have repossessed your home.

When Christmas shopping in Britain you’ll require body armour, a strong will, and good time keeping. When you finish work, you’ll have only several minutes to rush around the retail hell that is the British high street, with your head down, looking up briefly to acknowledge the till jockey, who stares rather blankly at you whilst they ponder just how long their new career at ‘Mint Toyz’ is going to last.

In England you’ll find that advertising Christmas, gifts and Christmas food related items, begins before Halloween and end’s the second Boxing day is over (when the Easter eggs come out). We spend over three months saving, planning, panicking about gifts only to then have a couple of days to quickly exchange them between friends and family.

Here’s something typically British, a Christmas cracker joke…

Who’s the bane of Santa’s life?

The elf and safety officer.

I remembered this rather depressing joke as I watched shoppers shuffling ass to face, slowly trying to escape the shopping arcade in my town, with the occasional muffled warnings from an electronic traffic cone. Yes that’s right, as we all trampled on each other, bumping bags of overpriced child labour, a lone electronic traffic cone, complete with red flashing light, warned us that the floor was indeed wet and therefore a slip hazard.

Santa wouldn’t give a toss about health and safety, he literally invented the sweat shop…little people in uniform, working for what appears to be nothing but a little praise every twelve months, never seeing their elf families again.

Thinking about it, who are their families? I guess they all work and breed there. They’d have to raise their children for work, adorn that vile outfit and make toys continuously for several months.

Ho ho ho

So what did Santa bring me this year? Apart from the obvious, alcohol and socks, here are a few things the creepy man with a beard left me.

A hot water bottle, complete with machine knitted union jack cover.

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Often I am too drunk to realise the bed is cold but on the odd occasion I will have the patience and dexterity to pour near boiling water into this rubber bag, I do find this a valuable bedtime accessory.

Bathtime commando shooting game.

DSC_1667

Become your own fantasy firing squad by lining up these four super heroes and shooting them in the face.

Comes complete with what looks like a German Luger and four super heroes. I’ve no idea what they’ve done but I’m assuming in this scenario I’m the bad guy as they’ve named the characters ‘hero’s’ and I’m the guy with the gun.

 

Diver on a plug

Perhaps BP could learn a thing or too here

Perhaps BP could learn a thing or too here

Another bath time accessory. I’ve no idea why I’m collecting bath related items this year. I guess anyone in my family knows I prefer baths to showers, they’re just much easier to do. You come into the bathroom, turn on the taps and walk out. After wandering around nude for a while, you stroll back in, turn off the taps and then just lay horizontally in a tub of warm water. A shower is an awful activity, it’s like standing in rain, turning around constantly, spitting out water and wiping soap out of your eyes.

 

Salt water powered car

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Most of us who have bothered keeping up with science (not the science on TV) know we can run a car on anything from cow piss to the sun already, but there is still many years of foreign oil to use so until then, petroleum it is. It’s also, in my opinion a long long way off becoming the norm, due to the fact any huge manufacturing plant cannot run on salt water alone and cars are generally not made of recycled birthday cards, so we’ll be using steel, rubber, glass etc until it’s all gone. Still, a fun gift though.

 

Solar powered gadgets, six in one.

DSC_1675 DSC_1676

Similar to the gift above except this one runs on sun light. Six gadgets, in one box, apparently. I imagine if you showed this to a child in the 50’s this would blow their minds. Even more amazing is thinking that in fifty years’ time, kids will be throwing away their six in one, zero point energy toys, whilst their parents reminisce about the time we could actually see the sun before the toxic dust clouds formed over the earth.

 

Physics of The Future; by Michio Kaku

DSC_1680

This guy’s work interests me, he looks into the future of physics and technology by actually listening and learning to science and scientists. Instead of just making shit up because you’ve seen i-robot. No flying cars, no instant pizza making machines, no lazer weapons, just interesting thoughts and progress within our scientific world.

Marvel Chronicles – A year by year account

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Probably my favourite gift of the lot, my partner bought me this chronicles of Marvel because myself, like any other man out there, has fantasied at one time or another being a member of the Xmen or being Tony Stark. It comes with glossy factual pages, year by year account of what was going on at the time, as well as exclusive art work throughout.

So that concludes my 2012, the world didn’t end, it was never going to…but then you would have known  this if you actually bothered to read an entire paragraph on the subject and not a shoddy dooms day article from a newspaper who sticks Jimmy Saville on the front page.

Your new year’s resolutions this year should be, stop watching/paying for TV license, don’t buy or read newspapers, get creative no matter how small the subject is and share my blog, to as many people as you know.

So happy new year, and have fun!

Mikey