wily's comedy pages

Asbo, What does that mean? Another Senseless Bureaucratic Order?

I'm not knocking society's attempts to solve the antisocial behaviour problem - something has to be done - but repeat offending is commonplace . . . ASBOs just don't work.

I've read many stories of delinquents served an ASBO after they have committed 20, 30 or more crimes. Surely the offenders can be prosecuted and punished for these crimes without the need for another expensive tier of bureaucracy. I've even read that a person breaking the terms of their ASBO can be served with another one. What's the point? These people have no regard for others, or the law. What happens when they chalk up a list of 20 or 30 ASBOs? Do they get a prison sentence? Absolutely not . . . it costs far too much.

It is said by some do-gooders that a period of incarceration is no deterrent. It may or may not be a deterrent, but until a solution is found to this problem it's the only way to alleviate the misery caused by antisocial behaviour. Who are we trying to protect . . . the criminal or law-abiding citizens? I'll bet that if a poll were to be taken from the victims as to whether to jail or serve an ASBO, it would be a landslide victory for the former.

Fortunately, I have two solutions to this problem. The first will cost the country billions but the second is virtually free in comparison and guaranteed to be 100 per cent successful. My first solution is that one of the terms of an ASBO should be that offenders are rehoused to wreak their havoc in the towns and villages where the do-gooders, politicians and judges live. A few weeks of that should be enough to ensure a multi-billion-pound new prison-building program.

My second and preferred solution is rehabilitation with no medical, police, or staffing costs, and will take only one week per reprobate for a complete cure.

Create an open village to house violent convicts who are out on parole and rehouse the antisocial elements of our society with them for a period of one week. I'll bet the playing of loud music late at night stops within the first five minutes. Attempts to intimidate, steal from, or damage the property of the neighbours would only happen once.
OK, I accept there may be a medical cost to the casualty department of the local hospital for patching up broken faces and the removal of CD players from fleshy orifices, but this would be minimal. If the offenders survive, er, I mean serve their time, let them return home with the proviso that, if they re-offend, they go back to the village for a month.

So there it is, a cost-effective answer to society's antisocial behaviour problems, and we can have a new definition for the acronym . . . All Sorted, Bother Over.

Copyright wilyoldfool 2008

Pain is a mother of inventions

Ever thought about becoming an inventor? All you have to do is think of a good idea, get a patent and retire to the Bahamas, right?

"But I can't think of any good ideas", I hear you say.
I say, "You can". That curly fleshy thing between you ears was designed to give you ideas. Thousands of them. Every day. Here's one of my days . . . see how many ideas you can spot.

It began by my stubbing a toe on the bedpost. I was trying to flick up a pair of underpants into my hand . . . as we all know, bending over with a hangover hurts. Maybe not as much as a bloodied toe though.

My wife found this most amusing. I, however, chose to mumble as many profanities as I could think of.

"It's your own fault, I've told you not to leave your clothes lying about all over the floor," she giggled. "And there's no need to swear, that won't make it better."

Well, it made me feel better. Anyway, I limped down the stairs to put the kettle on, leaving a trail of blood on the carpet.

The scream from the kitchen sent my wife running down the stairs.

"What's happened?"

"I've scalded my foot. Bloody spoons," - something had to be blamed . . . it wasn't my fault - "Why don't they make them big enough to hold a tea bag? Now they both hurt."

Ever dropped a hot tea bag on your bare foot? It gave me an idea. Pain gives you ideas . . . instantly. It's the fastest idea generator known to mankind.
I don't remember my exact idea as it happened so quickly, but it went something like "Get this bloody thing off your foot now!"
And that's exactly what I did. It flew off like the ball from a David Beckham free kick . . . straight into the net. New, brilliant white net. Net with doily-type flowery patterns, tenderly hung by my wife a day earlier, cooing "isn't it lovely" and "doesn't it go well with the tiles?"

"You've got tea all over the floor," she said, reaching for a cloth.

It was then she saw the net. It was sandwiched between the tea bag and the windowpane. The flower it hit looked like it had developed a fungal growth. It was steaming, and it wasn't alone. Judging by the look I got, my wife was having at least 50 ideas, all of them involving a murder . . . mine.

I have to admit, my idea of throwing more hot tea bags at it to create a sort of random brown pattern wasn't received well.
I had another idea . . . diffuse the situation, introduce some humour, be clever and pay her back with her own penny "And there's no need to swear, that won't make it better," I said.

Although it seemed like a good idea, the only worse thing I could have said is "Your bum looks big in that dressing gown."

"And have you seen the stair carpet? It's ruined!"

Husbands take note. Your well-being will always come third place behind net curtains and stair carpets.

I had another idea. I felt it go through my head but I couldn't grasp it. It was too strong. It was a dark idea. An evil idea. It was slithering through my entire body.
I began to sweat. My legs went cold. I looked to my feet . . . the pain had gone. It was cowering with fear on the top of my toenails.
I felt the idea rising up past my groin, up and towards my stomach. I prayed for the butterflies. Up, up it went gripping my heart . . . it missed a beat.
Up and around my neck, into my throat, grasping my vocal-chords. "Er, er," They resisted, but were overpowered by the evil . . . it was too strong. Out it came . . .

"I'll buy you a new carpet and net curtains."

I felt a sharp pain in my thigh. I'd swear my wallet bit me.

I retired to the spare room with my cup of tea to get over the shock.
Being an inventor-type person, my mind was inventing padded covers for bedposts and tea bag gripping spoons.
Not the greatest inventions ever, but do you see how they came about? Pain, angst and frustration are the seeds of many a good invention.
How do you invent? Don't try to. The events in your life will provide you with the seeds . . . you just have to spot them.
You won't get a world-class invention every day, or even every year, but you'll get some worth pursuing.
If you can't get it right, it won't work properly or it gives you pain, then don't get angry . . . put your inventors head on and make it better.
I'll see you in the Bahamas.

Copyright wilyoldfool 2008

Hi. I write comedy columns and this is my first blog. Hope you enjoy it.

The End is Nigh – September 10th 2008 actually (CERN have announced switch on date)

By wilyoldfool

Everyone knows the ultimate answer to life, the universe and everything is 42 and was computed by the most powerful computer in the universe, Deep Thought. Everyone except it seems a bunch of international scientists at CERN, the European Organization for Nuclear Research.

Over the last ten years they have somehow persuaded their respective governments to shell out 3 billion pounds of taxpayers’ money to build their own version of Deep Thought, called LHC – the Large Hadron Collider. It is the latest design of particle accelerator built inside a 17-mile long doughnut shaped tunnel 100 metres beneath an alp on the French Swiss border near Geneva. In it they plan to accelerate particles to near light speed and smash them to bits in an attempt to recreate conditions at the “Big Bang.”

Many good things have resulted from CERN’s research in the past, including two Nobel prizes and the World Wide Web, invented in 1990 by scientist Tim Berners-Lee. But according to some scientific minds, and some that are not, including mine, CERN’s scientists now seem intent on Armageddon.

They believe the “Big Bang Theory” describes how our present universe began approximately 13.7 billion years ago and plan to recreate the event. I’m sure most people think the scientists know what they are doing, but I can’t help thinking the re-creation of the “Big Bang” will create… well… a big bang.

Scientific theories that claim the experiment will create black holes and swallow up the planet have been dismissed by CERN, but there are other theories that have never been disproved, including one of my own, that in an earlier universe 13.7 billion years ago, the last words ever spoken were, “Ok, all seems well. You can switch it on now.”

When asked to explain our universe and its creation, one of the boffins was quoted as saying, “We know about four percent, but don’t even know what we don’t know of the rest,” and went on to assure the public the experiment will pose no danger.

Hmm… When I did my GCEs I seem to remember four percent was not the pass mark in any subject, and a ninety six percent lack of knowledge of your chosen subject wouldn’t get you a job frying burgers, never mind one as a scientist. But a ninety six percent lack of knowledge about our universe is of no concern to CERN.
They switched on the LHC in mid June 2008 with the first collisions planned to take place 2 months later. Call me a cowardly sceptic, but until the percentages are reversed, I would much prefer my Hadron’s uncollided thank you very much.

I would like to think the EU would carry out a risk assessment before someone presses the start button, because it will be held responsible if anything goes wrong, and the cost of claims for damages and injuries caused by a rampant black hole would be astronomic. Also, I’m no expert, but knowing insurance companies are reluctant to pay out for damages caused by acts of God, I’ll bet they are even more reluctant to pay out for damages caused by acts of mad scientists.

This is of course assuming anyone making a claim is a resident of a habitable planet somewhere in the vicinity of Alpha Centauri or beyond, because if a black hole is created, it will have devoured our entire solar system in about half a millisecond, leaving little time for Earth residents to fill out a claim form.

So, it seems possible that in mid September 2008 Earth will be the epicentre of a bang bigger than anything a Vogon spaceship’s arsenal could deliver, suffer spaghettification in a giant black hole, or nothing unusual will happen. One of CERN’s scientists summed up the latter quite nicely when asked, “And if the experiment doesn't work?”
"We will have assembled the world's most expensive piece of modern art,” he said. Let’s hope he’s right.

Copyright wilyoldfool 2008