Greetings one and all.

Lately, I have been reading a highly informative, yet thoroughly hilarious book called An Utterly Impartial History of Britain or 2000 Years of Upper Class Idiots in Charge by John O'Farrell. Read this book!! It is awesome!

Meanwhile, I would like to share with you the following cautionary tale for the young



Link here if required

I am now a middle-aged git. It's official.

This time last year, I commented that

Well, late last week, I crossed that special boundary so now that I am an old git, I clearly need to find new and exciting ways to annoy young people. Any suggestions? Muah ha ha!!!

Meanwhile, here is a little music from Joy Division. Joy Division were a proto-goth rock band that us middle-aged gits used to listen to back in the good old days. You young whippersnappers wouldn't remember them of course …



Link here if needed

Wahey! It is time once again for Poetry Corner. Click on the spoilers for today's surprise poetry selection…

Well, that's all folks!!! Live long and prosper!!!!

Welcome to Mr Mocata's Esoteric Book Club. Upon entering, please be advised to hang your sanity on the coat stand provided.

Mr Mocata's current book recommendation is "Shadows Over Baker Street" edited by Michael Reeves and John Pelan. This extraordinary little tome consists of a collection of short stories by various authors which blend elements of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories with HP Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos. Within the pages of this fascinating little anthology, Sherlock Holmes investigates a dark selection of mysterious crimes, which subsequently turn out to have a Cthulhu Mythos explanation. Also, featuring a guest appearance from the lovely and charming Miss Irene Adler.

Now it is time for the return of Poetry Corner!! This month's poem of choice is a rather feeelthy poem concerning the adult pleasures of…ahem…horticulture…

The Geranium by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

In the close covert of a grove,
By nature formed for scenes of love,
Said Susan in a lucky hour,
Observe yon sweet geranium flower;
How straight upon its stalk it stands,
And tempts our violating hands:
Whilst the soft bud as yet unspread,
Hangs down its pale declining head:
Yet, soon as it is ripe to blow,
The stems shall rise, the head shall glow.
Nature, said I, my lovely Sue,
To all her followers lends a clue;
Her simple laws themselves explain,
As links of one continued chain;
For her the mysteries of creation,
Are but the works of generation:
Yon blushing, strong, triumphant flower,
Is in the crisis of its power:
But short, alas! Its vigorous reign,
He sheds his seed, and drops again;
The bud that hangs in pale decay,
Feels, not, as yet, the plastic ray;
Tomorrow's sun shall bid him rise,
Then, too, he sheds his seed and dies:
But words, my love, are vain and weak,
For proof, let bright example speak;
Then straight before the wondering maid,
The tree of life I gently laid;
Observe, sweet Sue, his drooping head,
How pale, how languid, and how dead;
Yet, let the sun of thy bright eyes,
Shine but for a moment, it shall rise;
Let but the dew of thy soft hand
Refresh the stem, it straight shall stand:
Already, see, it swells, it grows,
Its head is redder than the rose,
Its shrivelled fruit, of dusky hue,
Now glows, a present fit for Sue:
The balm of life each artery fills,
And in o'erflowing drops distils.
Oh me! cried Susan, when is this?
What strange tumultuous throbs of bliss!
Sure, never mortal, till this hour,
Felt such emotion at a flower:
Oh, serpent! cunning to deceive,
Sure, 'tis this tree that tempted Eve;
The crimson apples hang so fair,
Alas! What woman could forbear?
Well hast thou guessed, my love, I cried,
It is the tree by which she died;
The tree which could content her,
All nature, Susan, seeks the centre;
Yet, let us still, poor Eve forgive,
It's the tree by which we live;
For the lovely woman still it grows,
And in the centre only blows.
But chief for thee, it spreads its charms,
For paradise is in thy arms. -
I ceased, for nature kindly here
Began to whisper in her ear:
And lovely Sue lay softly panting,
While the geranium tree was planting.
'Til in the heat of amorous strife,
She burst the mellow tree of life.
'Oh, heaven!' cried Susan, with a sigh,
'The hour we taste - we surely die;
Strange raptures seize my fainting frame,
And all my body glows with flame;
Yet let me snatch one parting kiss
To tell my love I die with bliss:
That pleased, thy Susan yields her breath;
Oh! who would live if this be death!'

Dear readers, I trust you have enjoyed my hospitality but alas, I must now leave you to your own devices (the mere thought of which fills me with a voyeuristic thrill) as I have just received word that a certain Duc De Richleau has, once again, attempted to break into my observatory. The fellow's a damned nuisance and I swear he only does it out of jealousy (his friend Simon always gets invited to my special parties, but Monsieur Le Duc, being a frightful bore, is not welcome).

Hi folks

Today's exciting news from wonderful world of me, myself and I, is that I have decided to relearn Latin. A long time ago I learned a bit of Latin (ok, I did a GCSE in Latin) but I have since largely forgotten what little I had learned. However, I have purchased a book and I have even begun working through the aforementioned book. As regards whether I will stick with it...who can say?! However, I'm having fun at the moment. One thing I will say, is that it is fascinating to see just how many English words have Latin roots.

Here are some examples...

The words creation and creativity are derived from the Latin verb creare meaning to create
The word interrogation is derived from the Latin verb interrogare meaning to question
The words portable and porter are derived from the Latin verb portare meaning to carry
The word butter is derived from the Latin noun butyrum
The word wine is derived from the Latin noun vinum (note in Latin a V is pronounced like a W, hence vinum is pronounced winum)
The word senate is derived from senex meaning old man
The word sentiment is derived from sentire meaning to feel
People often tell me that Britain has a very insular culture. The word insular is derived from the Latin word insula meaning an island

Meanwhile, today's utterly hilarious music video is "Sabotage" by The Beastie Boys. Enjoy!!!!!

How long do you think you could go without masturbating?

Obviously there is no particular ethical reason why you should go without masturbating but as a simple test of will, how long do you think you would last? Years ago an acquaintance of mine came up with the theory that people have so little will power that nobody would be able to manage to abstain for even two weeks. So here's the question, could you abstain from masturbation (and any other form of sexual activity) for two weeks? Would you be able to abstain if you continued to view and comment on each new set on SG or would your fragile will power crumble into dust at the first glimpse of temptation? Hee hee!!!

For my part, I made several attempts at proving the two-week theory wrong and most of these attempts ended in failure but I did once manage to go for almost two months (don't ask me how I managed to abstain for so long).

Other thoughts for the day. My garden is covered in beautiful crisp white snow but the only thing is this, we are in April now so what's going on? Still, snow is very pretty.

Today's mind-blowing music recommendation is "Oscillations" by The Silver Apples.



Meanwhile, I have recently started reading a magazine called "The Economist" and it is surprisingly interesting. So that's my recommendation for today. So, throw away your copies of Loaded, FHM, Cosmopolitan, or Heat magazine and get out and buy yourself a copy of The Economist. The Economist is more interesting and relevant than all of that trash combined. Alternatively, you could read it online.

Well you should see Polythene Pam...





PS the punk version is also worth checking out.

Have you ever been accused of being gay?

Many years ago when I was living in Staffordshire, a chap told me I looked gay because...wait for it...because, "You smile a lot"!!!

This puzzled me for some time.

However, I may have found an explanation. It turns out that my home city is the "smiling capital of Britain"

Clearly, my Bristolian tendency to smile a lot may have been confusing to the more dour-faced inhabitants of Staffordshire leading them to fabricate all manner of exotic explanations for my aberrant face muscle spasming behaviour.

Mind you, I did actually go through a bisexual phase while spending my teenage years imprisoned within the confines of a boarding school, so perhaps the man from Staffordshire wasn't entirely wrong with his allegations of gayness.

Meanwhile, here's a little something courtesy of The Smashing Pumpkins.

This video is awesome!!!

Green Jello "Little Pig, Little Pig"

I am imprisoned within a cage of my own making and to which I have lost the key.

This cage was built from my appetites and my fears.

Its bars were welded in place by the inexorable causality which stems from my every action and inaction.

My pleasurable little acts of self-indulgence have become mere habits and my habits have become a cumbersome burden to bear.

To indulge one's every whim is the opposite of freedom. True freedom is the freedom to deny one's whims by one's own choice, as an act of True Will.

On a lighter note, here's some great music courtesy of YouTube

Incense and Peppermints by Strawberry Alarm Clock




Pictures of Matchstick Men by Status Quo




Green Tambourine by The Lemon Pipers




Hot Smoke & Sassafras by Bubble Puppy




In a Gadda da Vida by Iron Butterfly

Blimey it's wet in the UK!!!

Luckily for me, my home city of Bristol has been largely unscathed. However, I commute to Gloucester by train everyday and things aren't so good there.

On Friday, I almost couldn't get home because of flooding on railway the tracks. The situation was the same for virtually all travellers trying to get out of Gloucester whether they were heading north or south as several lines were flooded. A quick walk to the local bus station and I discovered that all of the buses were cancelled due to problems on the roads.

After returning to the train station, I was advised that a train was about to leave for Bristol via Newport. Having clambered onto the train (which was packed full) I then discovered that the train wasn't going anywhere anytime soon because the rail staff had been at work for 12 hours already. It was a crazy situation but eventually some rail staff were found.

What was even more strange was that there were people on the train heading both south to Bristol and London and others heading north to Birmingham and even Derby.

The whole arrangement looked suspiciously as if, in an act of desperation, the station management at Gloucester had decided to just get everyone together, cram them on a train and shunt them off to Newport (the alternative was to send everyone off to spend the night in Gloucester's make-shift emergency shelter; a sports hall that had been commandeered for the purpose). Once we got to Newport northbound travellers changed trains and then the rest of us headed off to Bristol. I eventually got home at 9:30 pm!! Today once of my friends at work informed me that he had been travelling back from London on Friday and, having set off at lunchtime, didn't get home until just after 1 am!!!

Still all was not lost as I spent most of the journey in the company of a rather attractive female personage from Switzerland, who in an act of grave folly, had chosen Britain as a holiday destination.

Meanwhile, today in Gloucester, the city had lost its supply of drinkable water. At work, the management bought in thousands of bottles of water both to keep the building open and to give to locally based employees to take home. The water supply is expected to be out for a week or two.

All in all I have been remarkably fortunate that the flooding has had so little impact on me. From Gloucester northwards into the midlands, households have been flooded and people have been without drinking water and electricity stranded in their homes waiting for rescue dinghies or helicopters and with still more rain is on its way and Britain's largest river, the Severn is set to wreak more havoc.