Marius Trevelean's Blog, page 3
May 4, 2012
How NOT to quit smoking - for FREE!!!
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Tartare by M Trevelean will be FREE to download from Amazon over the holidays from the 5th May - 7th May.
Edinburgh, March 2006. The smoking ban begins across Scotland. Many smokers would kill to give up cigarettes. Edgar Ferrol will.
Edgar Ferrol has stopped smoking. He blames the countrywide ban that came into effect last week and his Uncle Derek, who inconveniently died of lung cancer. He can't sleep, has a horrible cough and thinks he might be coming down with something. It is not going well.
Edgar is a 31 year old data administrator living in Edinburgh. He is single and lives in a small flat on his own, has family in England that he hardly speaks to and a bunch of work colleagues he calls friends.
After weeks of misery, having tried every conventional way to beat his cravings, Edgar stumbles upon an unlikely cure whilst drunk in a local restaurant. Raw animal flesh. Things start to improve but as the animal meat becomes less effective and his life takes a turn for the worse, Edgar decides on a new course of action, one that will drive him to murder, cannibalism and self-destruction.
'Tartare' is a black comedy about the nature of addiction, personal choice and a stolen cow called Frank.
Tartare by M Trevelean will be FREE to download from Amazon over the holidays from the 5th May - 7th May.
Edinburgh, March 2006. The smoking ban begins across Scotland. Many smokers would kill to give up cigarettes. Edgar Ferrol will.
Edgar Ferrol has stopped smoking. He blames the countrywide ban that came into effect last week and his Uncle Derek, who inconveniently died of lung cancer. He can't sleep, has a horrible cough and thinks he might be coming down with something. It is not going well.
Edgar is a 31 year old data administrator living in Edinburgh. He is single and lives in a small flat on his own, has family in England that he hardly speaks to and a bunch of work colleagues he calls friends.
After weeks of misery, having tried every conventional way to beat his cravings, Edgar stumbles upon an unlikely cure whilst drunk in a local restaurant. Raw animal flesh. Things start to improve but as the animal meat becomes less effective and his life takes a turn for the worse, Edgar decides on a new course of action, one that will drive him to murder, cannibalism and self-destruction.
'Tartare' is a black comedy about the nature of addiction, personal choice and a stolen cow called Frank.
May 2, 2012
Plane fair?
I remember when travelling by air was glamorous, before it became dangerous, until the present day when it’s merely tedious. Where better a place to see in full glory the gradual erosion of our civil liberties than at an airport; a place by dint of booking the flights in the first place, where you can easily afford the most expensive shake-down of your life.
I don’t like being suspected. I don’t like feeling under suspicion, even when I’ve done something wrong, when you could be excused into thinking that I should at the very least expect to be suspected, even to have the suspicion that I may well be suspected as I am a suspect, which I feel is suspect in itself. However to be suspected when I have cheerfully paid my money, turned up at the allotted and quite unnecessary 4 hours before take-off and then stood in line quietly and patiently is patently absurd.
I understand the need for security checks, after all as a nervous flyer I quite often find myself hoping to reach my destination whereas others are expectant. I understand the need for bags to go through X-Ray machines; that I should have my carry-on belongings scanned for metal or pointy implements, I even don’t mind performing a strangely edifying striptease in front of strangers, whipping my belt off with gusto and a wiggle as I hand over my trainers to be scanned for foot odour (100% clean record and counting).
What I don’t and won’t excuse however is the worrying increase in gruffness and inhospitality that is starting to reek from these terminals. After all, the prelude that I’m referring to is often followed by family holidays, special occasions or a trip to see a loved one. Airports and the process of air travel should be an ode to the human spirit, one of adventure, of family ties, love and conquering of distance. Instead it has been reduced to a long line of people nervously wondering if they’re carrying over 100ml of shampoo or whether they can take their lighter on the flight while they wait for the next stony-faced official to bark at them to walk through the next bit of technical wizardry which checks to see if your dentist was a member of the Third Reich.
During my travels I have experienced some mind-boggling procedures at international airports. The USAfor example still has the most accidentally hilarious Visa questionnaire I’ve ever set eyes on with questions such as:
“Have you ever been convicted for an offence involving moral turpitude?” – As long as moral turpitude doesn’t mean ‘sex with animals’ then that’s a no from me.
“Are you involved in espionage?” – Oh if only it were that easy the Cold War would’ve lasted half an hour.
Do you intend to carry out terrorist activities while in the United States? – Define ‘Terrorism’. Blow up a skyscraper? No. Go to Disney World? Yes.
Or in Australia, where it takes the best part of a day to fly to from pretty much anywhere, where they ask things like -
Are you carrying any porn? – No but my wife’s a prostitute, does that count?
Are you carrying any Biological specimens? – Yes I’m smuggling an Alien in the stomach of my companion here.
Are you carrying any soil or Earth? – Yes I asked the pilot to pop in to Home base on the way so I could plant some magnolias during the stopover in Dubai.
Of course the security questions are there to improve safety and security, but asking someone if they’re a drug dealer is never going to give you balanced results and the common sense vacuum doesn’t stop there. On my last trip I had the contents of my suitcase rifled through while I waited to check in, then I went through security (wearing a suspender belt just in case there were tips on offer) and then after waiting to board I got patted down in the tunnel as I was boarding the plane. Why? I’ve been in the terminal for the last 6 hours; the only thing I’m smuggling on board is my last drop of patience with airport security.
In the end the airports, governing bodies and nations are all just trying to protect people from acts of terrorism, smuggling and people trafficking – all of which are good, morally responsible reasons and reasons which the vast majority of passengers agree with. But it doesn’t mean that everyone is a suspect. It doesn’t mean you should treat people like animals, or you should be rude or short with paying customers or inflict draconian measures on people who are simply trying to get from A to B without a rubber-gloved hand poking into C.
In short, try making flying and going to airports an enjoyable experience if you can, lest you start doing the terrorists job for them and put people off flying altogether.
M.
April 26, 2012
Little cherubs
Children for many people are a gift, a wonderful miracle that changes people’s lives forever, creating families and untold joy to old people the world over (it gives them something to do). Many of my close friends and family have done their bit to contributing to the world population recently and I congratulate them all sincerely on the new lives they will get see grow up and hopefully flourish.
However, there is a little down side to all of this celebratory procreation – baby photos.
If any more baby photos turn up on my Facebook page I’m afraid I’m going to be investigated and put on a certain register for undesirables. There are only so many confused faces one can handle staring at you every time you log in.
Unless your little darling is jumping out of an exploding helicopter, I’m just not interested. A picture of a static baby is about as captivating as a picture of a static caravan. They all look the same. Now whether they have their father’s eyes, mother’s hips or milkman’s twinkle in their eye is irrelevant – they are all bald midgets and not the comical Vern Troyer type.
Three hundred photos of the same child only sitting on a different coloured blanket, or lying down or looking at something off-camera, or sitting eating food may well be endless rapture for doting parents or relatives but to the rest of us it’s like watching slides on a recent trip to Death Valley –
“Ooh this one has a cloud in it. See?”
Fascinating - look I appreciate that your little one is the apple of your eye, really I do, but changing your Facebook profile picture to a shot of an infant just suggests that you really don’t have anything else worth talking about other than how many attempts it took your son to pour his breakfast over his head.
Ah, but we can still flick through those photos in later life though, all those memories to look back on. Look, there’s the time you sat on a blanket. Oh and there’s the time you sat on a chair and aw, that’s when you sat on the slightly smaller chair only it was red. Here’s the time you lay on your back on the carpet – remember that? This is the one with you with a window in the background and there’s you sitting on the same blanket as in the other photo but it was taken from a slightly different angle. Oh! And there’s you wearing a hat.
Yeah…baby photos are not my thing.
Next week – Charities: Who needs ‘em?
M ;)
April 22, 2012
Follow me on Pinterest for visual aids to some of th...
Follow me on Pinterest for visual aids to some of the things pinging around in my head.
http://pinterest.com/mtrevelean/
If you're on there then give me a shout, say hello or send some cool pics. I'll re-pin everything I like the look of. Cheers, M
http://pinterest.com/mtrevelean/
If you're on there then give me a shout, say hello or send some cool pics. I'll re-pin everything I like the look of. Cheers, M
April 17, 2012
Halcyon Days
This is a trip down memory lane (the lane has subsequently been torn up and turned into a lovely water feature). For all the commuters who have it all to do again tomorrow.
Hell is the Number 22
There is a reason why Hell is the number 22. What it is not is the number of chromosomes a parent contributes to the start of human life. It is not the number of times Julius Caesar was stabbed or the number of Grand Masters of the Knights Templar. It is not the most commonly quoted prime number. It has nothing to do with Darwin’s 'Origin of the Species' or the Number of the Beast. It has nothing to do with the Birthday Paradox, William Burroughs or racial supremacy. It is not the average human physical biorhythm. It has nothing in common with Discordianism or September 11th. It has no other meaning to me apart from one. It is the number of the bus that I take to work each day and it is hell.
Bus stop politics is a cut-throat world. I never wanted to be a politician but I have little choice in the matter. Without being able to debate with my body, to push and to shove and cajole myself into the front of the queue, I would never get to work. In comparison to some I am a chivalrous gent. At least I queue in the first place; I take a place in line, I believe in this social order, common courtesy you may call it or self-sacrificing defeatism.
Not all are like me. Some, which is increasingly becoming most, don’t bother queuing at all. Instead they loiter, hovering around the front of the queue until the bus arrives and then dive on before everyone else. Once in a while someone pulls them up, heckles at them, even grabs them by the scruff of the neck and gives them a quick yank backwards. But most people are too polite or too scared or too busy playing commuter politics.
The number 22 is the commuter bus. The most frequent service in the city that runs every five minutes (or so the timetable would have you believe). It runs from the bottom of Leith all the way to the South Gyle and it takes in the breadth of the city on its way between the two. It travels through Princes Street, Lothian Road and beyond. It is my least favourite mode of transport of all time and that comes from a man who hates flying. It is hell.
Unlike the other 99% of the Edinburgh bus fleet, for some inexplicable reason the busiest bus route is maintained with single decker buses. So while I stand shivering at the side of the road watching empty 45's with their vacant top decks rumble by I can't help think why it is necessary to shoehorn myself onto the next available 22. Maybe it is penance for working in the industry that I do. It is my punishment for further perpetuating the status quo. What goes around comes around, unless it is a 22 bus which inevitably goes around and eventually comes around 10 minutes behind schedule and doesn't stop because it's already full. Maybe life is trying to tell me something. It is hell.
Hell is the Number 22
There is a reason why Hell is the number 22. What it is not is the number of chromosomes a parent contributes to the start of human life. It is not the number of times Julius Caesar was stabbed or the number of Grand Masters of the Knights Templar. It is not the most commonly quoted prime number. It has nothing to do with Darwin’s 'Origin of the Species' or the Number of the Beast. It has nothing to do with the Birthday Paradox, William Burroughs or racial supremacy. It is not the average human physical biorhythm. It has nothing in common with Discordianism or September 11th. It has no other meaning to me apart from one. It is the number of the bus that I take to work each day and it is hell.
Bus stop politics is a cut-throat world. I never wanted to be a politician but I have little choice in the matter. Without being able to debate with my body, to push and to shove and cajole myself into the front of the queue, I would never get to work. In comparison to some I am a chivalrous gent. At least I queue in the first place; I take a place in line, I believe in this social order, common courtesy you may call it or self-sacrificing defeatism.
Not all are like me. Some, which is increasingly becoming most, don’t bother queuing at all. Instead they loiter, hovering around the front of the queue until the bus arrives and then dive on before everyone else. Once in a while someone pulls them up, heckles at them, even grabs them by the scruff of the neck and gives them a quick yank backwards. But most people are too polite or too scared or too busy playing commuter politics.
The number 22 is the commuter bus. The most frequent service in the city that runs every five minutes (or so the timetable would have you believe). It runs from the bottom of Leith all the way to the South Gyle and it takes in the breadth of the city on its way between the two. It travels through Princes Street, Lothian Road and beyond. It is my least favourite mode of transport of all time and that comes from a man who hates flying. It is hell.
Unlike the other 99% of the Edinburgh bus fleet, for some inexplicable reason the busiest bus route is maintained with single decker buses. So while I stand shivering at the side of the road watching empty 45's with their vacant top decks rumble by I can't help think why it is necessary to shoehorn myself onto the next available 22. Maybe it is penance for working in the industry that I do. It is my punishment for further perpetuating the status quo. What goes around comes around, unless it is a 22 bus which inevitably goes around and eventually comes around 10 minutes behind schedule and doesn't stop because it's already full. Maybe life is trying to tell me something. It is hell.
April 10, 2012
The Tartare 'Taster' Menu
Experience the mouth-watering flavour of rich chapters drizzled with fresh sentences and garnished with the finest satire, imported all the way from my debut novel - 'Tartare'.
Try before you buy at M. Trevelean's Facebook page. Service not included.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/M-Trevelean/201615073201946?sk=page_insights#!/pages/M-Trevelean/201615073201946
Try before you buy at M. Trevelean's Facebook page. Service not included.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/M-Trevelean/201615073201946?sk=page_insights#!/pages/M-Trevelean/201615073201946
April 2, 2012
'Sociopaths in suits' - Why the Banks won't change.
The financial crisis, The Credit Crunch, The Apocalypse (as some would have it) - we all have a different take on the crisis that has affected so many of us all over the world. Lehman Brothers went KABOOM and the whole economic world went into a tailspin. Of course this was years ago now and we are still feeling the pinch – Greece is on the verge of collapse, the European Union is fumbling about trying to figure out what the magic bullet looks like and the press have indulged themselves in the kind of scare-mongering that used to be the reserve of the Cold War and nuclear Armageddon.
What of the perpetrators, what of the Banks? Much has been said and written about Bankers bonuses, how UK banks that are part or majority owned by the British taxpayer are still paying bonuses out to their chief Executives and the backlash it has had from the general public. But what people don't understand is why, after being bailed out, why they have not apologised, why they are still paying bonuses for failure and why they haven't changed their ways. Want to know why?
I am an ex-corporate banker. I worked for one of the large UK banks that were bailed out by the taxpayer and I can tell you with 100% certainty that nothing has changed. The culture of the banks is exactly the same pre-Credit Crunch; the people that got us into the mess in the first place are still there, still drawing a salary, still getting bonuses.
There has been no apology, not to the public, the taxpayers or even the staff. As far as the Banks are concerned it wasn't their fault, it was the market. They weren't to know that the bubble was going to burst; they couldn't forecast that borrowing had reached dangerously unstable levels. Couldn't forecast or didn't want to see the truth? Banks mitigate risk, they manage it, they spend millions on analysis and risk assessment – it's what they do. Couldn't forecast market change? That's like the weatherman not being able to predict the weather.
Then there are the bonuses. Banks have been defending big bonuses with the excuse that without them they would be unable to attract the best talent. A fallacy if ever there was one. Most banks hire from within, they promote rather than look elsewhere. Even if they were to look outside their walls they would find unemployment at record levels. I'm pretty sure there are a few people out there that they could hire. Of course they need to attract the best people – like the ex-Chief Executive of the bank I worked for. Before he ran the bank into the ground he was in charge of a major Supermarket chain. Not banking, supermarkets. Imagine trying to get a top job anywhere with no experience of the role you were applying for. That's why they pay the bonuses, to attract people with no experience, makes perfect sense.
The other issue with bonuses is the perception of 'rewarding people for failure'. Take another publicly owned bank which recently announced losses of over £700 million. They paid ALL their staff bonuses. Can anyone think of a situation where a company loses money and the staff are rewarded for it? But if you talk to bank staff the bonus is EXPECTED – regardless of whether the bank is doing well or not. This is a cultural issue inside the banks and until that is changed we the taxpayer will continue to see people that we bailed out, that we kept in a job, that have made all our lives more difficult, being paid extra money on top of their salaries regardless of whether a publicly owned company succeeds or not. Getting rewarded for failure or getting rewarded regardless? Either way it is wrong.
Now for the dirty little secret that all the banks want to keep quiet – they are set targets of how many customers they have to get rid of. So the bank that you own, that you may have banked with for many years and have showed loyalty to, is taking your money while scheming to get rid of you behind your back. They have too much debt and the little people who aren't super-rich or run a small business are of no use to banks. Instead they have taken the Governments bail-out money and used it to balance their books – why do you think they're not lending? It's better for them to keep the money rather than wasting it on small businesses or first time buyers looking for a mortgage.
The FSA could step in, if it were not for the fact that the people who run the banks are ex-bankers themselves with connections to the same institutions that they should be sanctioning. Cronyism runs deep within the financial industry. People are promoted not based on any kind of meritocratic system but rather because their 'face fits' (which is a nice way of saying that nepotism and favouritism is rife). Half these people couldn't run a bath never mind a bank.
The Banking culture hasn't changed. Rather like a Vegas Casino - 'The House always wins'. We are being held ransom by greedy avaricious institutions, run by the guiltless and apathetic. This is not a rant by some third party commentator - this is based on my own personal experience, an experience that I eventually had to threaten legal action against in order to bring to an end. Don't expect anything to change anytime soon because as you've probably already noticed the Banks will put themselves first and everyone else second, or to put it another way -
Sociopaths are interested only in their personal needs and desires, without concern for the effects of their behaviour on others.
What of the perpetrators, what of the Banks? Much has been said and written about Bankers bonuses, how UK banks that are part or majority owned by the British taxpayer are still paying bonuses out to their chief Executives and the backlash it has had from the general public. But what people don't understand is why, after being bailed out, why they have not apologised, why they are still paying bonuses for failure and why they haven't changed their ways. Want to know why?
I am an ex-corporate banker. I worked for one of the large UK banks that were bailed out by the taxpayer and I can tell you with 100% certainty that nothing has changed. The culture of the banks is exactly the same pre-Credit Crunch; the people that got us into the mess in the first place are still there, still drawing a salary, still getting bonuses.
There has been no apology, not to the public, the taxpayers or even the staff. As far as the Banks are concerned it wasn't their fault, it was the market. They weren't to know that the bubble was going to burst; they couldn't forecast that borrowing had reached dangerously unstable levels. Couldn't forecast or didn't want to see the truth? Banks mitigate risk, they manage it, they spend millions on analysis and risk assessment – it's what they do. Couldn't forecast market change? That's like the weatherman not being able to predict the weather.
Then there are the bonuses. Banks have been defending big bonuses with the excuse that without them they would be unable to attract the best talent. A fallacy if ever there was one. Most banks hire from within, they promote rather than look elsewhere. Even if they were to look outside their walls they would find unemployment at record levels. I'm pretty sure there are a few people out there that they could hire. Of course they need to attract the best people – like the ex-Chief Executive of the bank I worked for. Before he ran the bank into the ground he was in charge of a major Supermarket chain. Not banking, supermarkets. Imagine trying to get a top job anywhere with no experience of the role you were applying for. That's why they pay the bonuses, to attract people with no experience, makes perfect sense.
The other issue with bonuses is the perception of 'rewarding people for failure'. Take another publicly owned bank which recently announced losses of over £700 million. They paid ALL their staff bonuses. Can anyone think of a situation where a company loses money and the staff are rewarded for it? But if you talk to bank staff the bonus is EXPECTED – regardless of whether the bank is doing well or not. This is a cultural issue inside the banks and until that is changed we the taxpayer will continue to see people that we bailed out, that we kept in a job, that have made all our lives more difficult, being paid extra money on top of their salaries regardless of whether a publicly owned company succeeds or not. Getting rewarded for failure or getting rewarded regardless? Either way it is wrong.
Now for the dirty little secret that all the banks want to keep quiet – they are set targets of how many customers they have to get rid of. So the bank that you own, that you may have banked with for many years and have showed loyalty to, is taking your money while scheming to get rid of you behind your back. They have too much debt and the little people who aren't super-rich or run a small business are of no use to banks. Instead they have taken the Governments bail-out money and used it to balance their books – why do you think they're not lending? It's better for them to keep the money rather than wasting it on small businesses or first time buyers looking for a mortgage.
The FSA could step in, if it were not for the fact that the people who run the banks are ex-bankers themselves with connections to the same institutions that they should be sanctioning. Cronyism runs deep within the financial industry. People are promoted not based on any kind of meritocratic system but rather because their 'face fits' (which is a nice way of saying that nepotism and favouritism is rife). Half these people couldn't run a bath never mind a bank.
The Banking culture hasn't changed. Rather like a Vegas Casino - 'The House always wins'. We are being held ransom by greedy avaricious institutions, run by the guiltless and apathetic. This is not a rant by some third party commentator - this is based on my own personal experience, an experience that I eventually had to threaten legal action against in order to bring to an end. Don't expect anything to change anytime soon because as you've probably already noticed the Banks will put themselves first and everyone else second, or to put it another way -
Sociopaths are interested only in their personal needs and desires, without concern for the effects of their behaviour on others.
March 29, 2012
Thought for the Day...
If your intolerant of intolerance does that make you a hypocrite?
March 26, 2012
What price Freedom?
Sigh. Here we go again. On Friday the powers that be, or rather those who've found themselves in charge despite themselves, decided that it would be a good idea to start charging a minimum cost per unit of alcohol in England, in order to stem binge drinking culture.
Now I hate binge drinking, I really do, I used to do it myself and any fun there is to be had is usually completely forgotten by the next day when you wake up to find you're barred from the pub, disowned by your family, bailed due to lack of evidence or in Uruguay. However trying to tackle it with the age old 'let's make it more expensive' tactic really isn't thinking anything through.
Firstly, what is the infatuation that modern governance has with making the small pleasures in life the domain of the rich? Cigarettes went up 7% above the rate of inflation last week in what I can only describe as 'tobacco gentrification'. Good idea, that way in the future the only sick people would be the rich - could be worse.
Are we to believe that cost is the major determining factor for why Britain has such a large binge drinking problem? Do the law-makers seriously think that putting prices up will stop those with drinking problems acquiring alcohol? It would be a spectacular feat of naivety if that were the case.
As is well documented we Brits don't get great weather. Yes, in the south during the summer it can get hot and is invariably sunny but during the long dark of winter it can be several months before you see anything resembling our nearest star.
I'm also led to believe that we work longer hours than our European counterparts and receive less statutory days off. So we spend more of our lives at work than we should like to which, unless you're one of the fortunate few who genuinely enjoy their jobs, is not a good thing.
Then you consider the fact that we are relatively small island which is fast becoming over-populated, where the cost of living is sky high and that currently finds itself suffering from record rates of youth unemployment and an economy that is stuttering - happy days.
People who drink excessively are doing so to escape. They're trying to escape the darkness, the cold, the wet, the metronomic grind of working life, of being skint, of all the daily reminders that life in modern Britain isn't exactly a bowl of cherries. So why do you surmise that a price hike will make a blind bit of difference to the status quo?
We need a cultural change, whether its grass roots education, more holidays, less stress or European-style table service, we need to do things differently if we're going to exact change. Following the same old formula of 'charge more' will only force more people to resort to crime to feed the monster, as the last habits people tend to change are their bad ones.
I'll leave the argument with the best sound-bite I heard from the news reports on Friday as the BBC canvassed opinion on the street. One sharp lady who was obviously unimpressed by the proposed price increase gave this very commonsensical reply –
"We're all adults. Once we've paid our taxes it's none of the Governments business what we spend our money on."
If only that were true.
Now I hate binge drinking, I really do, I used to do it myself and any fun there is to be had is usually completely forgotten by the next day when you wake up to find you're barred from the pub, disowned by your family, bailed due to lack of evidence or in Uruguay. However trying to tackle it with the age old 'let's make it more expensive' tactic really isn't thinking anything through.
Firstly, what is the infatuation that modern governance has with making the small pleasures in life the domain of the rich? Cigarettes went up 7% above the rate of inflation last week in what I can only describe as 'tobacco gentrification'. Good idea, that way in the future the only sick people would be the rich - could be worse.
Are we to believe that cost is the major determining factor for why Britain has such a large binge drinking problem? Do the law-makers seriously think that putting prices up will stop those with drinking problems acquiring alcohol? It would be a spectacular feat of naivety if that were the case.
As is well documented we Brits don't get great weather. Yes, in the south during the summer it can get hot and is invariably sunny but during the long dark of winter it can be several months before you see anything resembling our nearest star.
I'm also led to believe that we work longer hours than our European counterparts and receive less statutory days off. So we spend more of our lives at work than we should like to which, unless you're one of the fortunate few who genuinely enjoy their jobs, is not a good thing.
Then you consider the fact that we are relatively small island which is fast becoming over-populated, where the cost of living is sky high and that currently finds itself suffering from record rates of youth unemployment and an economy that is stuttering - happy days.
People who drink excessively are doing so to escape. They're trying to escape the darkness, the cold, the wet, the metronomic grind of working life, of being skint, of all the daily reminders that life in modern Britain isn't exactly a bowl of cherries. So why do you surmise that a price hike will make a blind bit of difference to the status quo?
We need a cultural change, whether its grass roots education, more holidays, less stress or European-style table service, we need to do things differently if we're going to exact change. Following the same old formula of 'charge more' will only force more people to resort to crime to feed the monster, as the last habits people tend to change are their bad ones.
I'll leave the argument with the best sound-bite I heard from the news reports on Friday as the BBC canvassed opinion on the street. One sharp lady who was obviously unimpressed by the proposed price increase gave this very commonsensical reply –
"We're all adults. Once we've paid our taxes it's none of the Governments business what we spend our money on."
If only that were true.
March 1, 2012
FREE BUFFET - All the 'Tartare' you can eat ( Sat 03/03 & Sun 04/03)
Willpower will get you so far and then it'll get you killed...
Are you a non-smoker? Have you ever wondered what all the fuss is about when people try to stop smoking?
Are you a smoker? Have you ever wondered how far you would go to quit?
Are you a cannibal? Have you ever wondered about the practicalities of obtaining food on a daily basis?
'Tartare' by M. Trevelean is available to download free of charge on Amazon from Saturday 03 - Sunday 04 March
http://www.amazon.com/Tartare-ebook/dp/B006F6FKI0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330082136&sr=8-1
"Oh, my god, this book. A terrible, hilarious, nervewracking, deeply upsetting experience you are going to LOVE." - Maria Bustillos (Dorkismo : The Macho of the Dork)
Are you a non-smoker? Have you ever wondered what all the fuss is about when people try to stop smoking?
Are you a smoker? Have you ever wondered how far you would go to quit?
Are you a cannibal? Have you ever wondered about the practicalities of obtaining food on a daily basis?
'Tartare' by M. Trevelean is available to download free of charge on Amazon from Saturday 03 - Sunday 04 March
http://www.amazon.com/Tartare-ebook/dp/B006F6FKI0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330082136&sr=8-1
"Oh, my god, this book. A terrible, hilarious, nervewracking, deeply upsetting experience you are going to LOVE." - Maria Bustillos (Dorkismo : The Macho of the Dork)
![[image error]](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qRZ6YfXs8Ks/T6PazRMvyjI/AAAAAAAAAAc/a_E0NDZxDGk/s1600/Tartare.jpg){kind=link}