The annual stay out of South London Day

 Or the London Marathon as it's known to sane people. Thought I'd be safe and go up town on Saturday but got off a stop early (Westminster) and had to shlep through St James' Park. 

Big mistake.

There is a mini half marathon for the kiddies going on and as a  result the park now resembles a rat maze with various bits shifted around so you can barely find your way out. I did in fact manage to leave the park only for you to be routed round back in the park and out towards Buck house. 

I have on occasion gone down to see them run past the old Coronet cinema / New Wine Church as a kid, but even with your primary school caretaker running, it isn't all that. It doesn't help that these bits weren't really shown on television then and are sort of glossed over now. Remember that bit in the Simpsons where they went to bumtown. This is us but instead of a thinly veiled Disney reference its the Marathon.

There's a hierarchy to racing, which is a long wait before the wheelchair racers come in then the pro runners and finally the unsung. The regular Joes, and the fun runners in costumes and stuff. When they finally go, you shuffle off back home and hope the buses are back up and running before doing it all again next year. 

Hissing Serpents

 Still not feeling especially lucky, mind, but finally, this is now done. 

Do you like ballooning and chess, then this is possibly for you. A Hardy boys mystery that combines both and with the bonus of going to China (Hong Kong as it was then) in the dying final 4th quarter of the book. 

Two mysteries for you here, one being a shady jewellery business scam with a side line in tailored Hong Kong suits, and a life-sized chess piece called the Ruby King, which is not only life-sized (as mentioned) but cursed to boot. 

This is currently owned by an Albert Krassner a local business tycoon along with his Chinese wife (who is never named in the entire book) and is the grand prize in a grand chess tournament. The local champ is Conrad Greene who was being bugged by unscrupulous Chinese gamblers who want to rig the contest so their preferred candidate wins.

Chet not only suffers in this (breaks his arm in a stake out) but also has the unlikely hobby of hot air ballooning as well as learning Cantonese to help with the case. 

Differences are pretty thin here, but do exist, Tony Prito doesn't say mama Mia or cross himself when Joe takes him on a disastrous flight, and there is the usual UK English spellings from the American equivalents. Also my copy has both Joe and Tony on the front cover one of the only times I've seen Tony Prito drawn.

What you see of Hong Kong isn't bad, there are a few Armchair Graves and bone jars (Gam Ta) containing the remains of long dead Chinese ancestors, and Tai Pak floating restaurant (now closed) off Aberdeen harbour gets a look in as the mystery comes to a climax.   

You can read the UK and US versions here. 

Mostly L's

 I know this should be an emperors birthday post, where I give you a present because its my birthday (hint it's not my birthday today, it was earlier in the week), but I've been going through a rough patch. I know people will have it harder than me, but that is neither here or there. It always seems to happen around this time, can't really remember a birthday that wasn't awful. 

This week my mum fell over on the way back from the clinic and have had internet issues over payment (Walrus boat people say it couldn't be taken, bank says otherwise). I know these aren't hardcore problems but every little thing adds up. 

On the other hand you'll have a new book uploaded to enjoy. It'll be Hissing Serpent if nothing else goes wrong. 

Oranges and lemons

Going through a low point and thought a walk would kick us out of the funk. A walk through the east end of London, which may remember from the old nursery rhyme, Oranges and Lemons. Whitechapel from Fenchurch Street to Bow church. As a godless monster even I can appreciate good architecture but even this can't disguise the fact that this isn't my London any more. 

It's the lack of any major place of business that is the real killer here. No major town centre, just a never ending stream of flats, small shops and at Whitechapel a market. Monocultural multiculture. A vague ethnicity that is neither white nor brown, just grey. Whether it be Whitechapel tube sign written in Punjabi or the constant socialism, (saw many a two tier Kier sign) and veiled Zionist (read antisemitic) free Paleswine signs. 

If its any joy, I always rip them or try and peel them off to mis state what they say. Collage of stickers upon stickers. Same goes for any right wing and god stuff the former is rare to see and the latter is more than you'd realize.

We made it to Bromley by Bow which was enough to make me cross over and get the bus to Dalston which is at least a town with a McDonalds but sadly no Smiths (always my yardstick for what a proper town is) and then the train home.

F off Brand

 So, it can't have escaped your notice that Russell Brand, television irritant turned conspiraloon, has been arrested for historic rape charges, and the right have lost their fucking, collective nut. 

It doesn't help that he has done the rapper's conversion of becoming a twunt of the highest order (becoming a Christian) with a high profile river baptism last year. He always was a serial shagger and part of my animosity towards him is the whole Wossy and him phoning up Andrew Sach's and saying they shagged his granddaughter. I like Wossy, I do not like him.  He destroyed Radio 2 breakfast on Saturdays leading towards to it becoming a much more safer, milquetoast show. Graham Norton is not anyones idea of a fun morning in. Though we did get Mark Lamarr for a spell which was glorious.

No, I'll focus on the right here, as a lib. It's all a conspiracy, Lawfare, this is what they do to anti establishment voices, ignoring the fact that he was a serial shagger for a good 20 odd years and such, and this is basically his chickens coming home to roost. Oh and my favourite is muh Grooming Gangs, if he'd been a Muslim, he'd be off Scot free. Ignoring all the evidence of a life led pursuing pussy at every occasion. Like I say there is no smoke without fire.

See also Marine boy LePeen. It's not them having an agenda against the far right, she got caught with her hand in the till. Stop making excuses for criminals.

I don't like it

There is a few things more wrong than an antipron  defender. Be it Godshagger or Feminazi they trot out the same old tropes. That watching regular pron leads to the weirder and more degenerate stuff or turns you or your kids into a misogynist. Stuff like Adolescence on Netflix  doesn't help either as it always lays the blame at boys rather than take a general approach.

I don't know why but they always come out with the 2pin stuff  as the absolute end point of it all forgetting that the only people seeking this out will be the curious and the actual bent ref themselves. Most just want them strung up from the nearest lamppost. 

Its always this or violent pron, where they seem to think a  Max Hardcore film is normal for every single porno, if no one is getting slapped or choked out then it can't be real smut. Whereas I, a man of culture, just want a ban of ridiculous skin art. No I don't want to see someone who looks like the tattooed lady from the circus getting shagged, 30 years ago this was fetish only, lets make it that way again. 

 Case in point, I picked up some unlabelled VHS tapes from a boot-sale, a free pick up. Turns out its BDSM stuff, a genre that creeps me the fuck out at the best of times. I have no intention to watch some woman get degraded and FFWD to the end to see if any normal stuff comes on after it's over (Don't laugh I have Caroline Lucas and Nigel Farage's inauguration into the EU from the end of Trans stuff). In fact the the best thing I've gotten from this is a screen grab of a title card (British Pain if anyone wants it) which is exploitable and thanks to Americans online relatable.

Most of the other stuff I've seen don't really do much, they'll either gross you out or leave you cold. Oh and if its gay stuff and your straight it definitely won't do anything at all.  

 

Werewolf

Night of the Werewolf, was the first of the new era of Hardy Boys digest stories continuing on from the classic 56 stories in the UK (58 in the states as they include Hidden Harbour mystery and House on the Cliff). 

Mostly we got these as an Angus & Robertson hard back edition with the unrevised US text rather than a fully localized UK English version as before.  Which is exactly the edition I have.

The story is about a glowing werewolf appearing at a diner where the boys are dining and evolves from there as it involves a young man called John Tabor and his father, Karel. Karel is an architect, working on a skyscraper project in New York but also has a home in the Adirondacks and a project there called the Eagles Nest.

His son John is the focus, after spending time in a sanitarium out at Pine Creek for a while and the wolf attacks escalate when he came out. He is a distant descendant of a noted European werewolf of legend and this is what the boys have to deal with. 

Chet Morton's hobby this time is building a birch bark canoe and has a love interest in John's chubby sister Alena. He seems to be paired up with larger ladies maybe due to his size, but secretly I'm sure that's his fetish. 

Anyway as the first Angus & Robertson hardback edition both UK and US editions are identical.

You can read them here UK and here US.