Things To Be, People To Do

There was another outbreak of “Winter Supermarket Car-Park Syndrome” on our previous moorings, and really there were things that needed to be done anyway, so we mooched on, mooched on, with a hope in our heart, and we’ll neeeee-veeerrrr mooch a-lone (other football terrace songs are available, mention here does not imply endorsement).

Huddled together for love (and because most folk are 99% ovine at heart, and this drives their behaviour).

I’ll just have to come to terms with the realisation that I am insanely attractive, obviously.

Scooted we on then via the services (one of the things that needed doing) – and you do not want to know what I had to do with a “stick” there (under C&RT suggestion and supervision). Suffice it to say that there was a stoppage notice (quite literally a notice of stoppage) the next day. I have my suspicions that C&RT HQ don’t empty anything until it’s reported as overflowing

It made sense for me to poke the sh****it with the stick, since I was the one already wearing gloves. On a cheerfullerer note, my new rubber gloves passed the test with flying (matt black) colours, and another two pairs are now on their way. Tis rare for me to be able to find glover rubs that fit my hands, so I am stocking up.

One of the dings that needed thooing was to be somewhere convenieabode for in order to meet Messrs BARGUS, the fuel boat. As you may see from the lead image; job done.

There’s more juggling afoot since the C&RT “winter stoppage” works are preventing Messrs BARGUS from following their usual route and timechair (a “timechair” is similar to a ‘timetable’ but different in shape and also smaller), and they won’t be back for some four of your Earth “weeks”. We – the Cardinal and I – will be at least some two elsewheres by then, so ce sera sera &etc.

As a quick perambulatory aside, have you ever wondered about ‘Verboten’ signs such as these? I have a problem with this whole concept of “authority” (and especially that of “authority over me“). Given that we, Messrs The Public, are supposed to be the be all and end all, the it in its entirety of human life, and the public servants paid to serve us are just that, supposed to be servants, who was it who gave these little people “authority” over use of and access to every single square inch of our land, England? We – the Public – are not here by default, or by grace and favour – it is they, the governments, the councils, the fake “charities” and the corporations and institutions that exist only on sufferance. In spite of this we seem to accept that all power and permission is vested in them and not in us.

Am I alone in finding this to be most peculiar? Am I alone in thinking that everywhere you look there is tangible, plain, obvious, unquestionable evidence that human society is set up for the benefit of some body other than the great unwashed? As with the old tried and tested ‘follow the money’, try ‘following the restrictions; who gets to impose and who must obey’.

The entire planet is covered in a rash of signs and signposts dictating to us what to do, where to go, how to behave, what not to do – and setting out the penalties, imposed by our servants, for our non-compliance with their orders. Everywhere you look in the human world; signs.

The Canal Company Ltd is soon going to need to install taller totem-poles, otherwise they’ll run out of space for all of their “authority”.

Even the ground itself is not sacred or above – or below – this cat urine-spraying “claiming”… for for example (forty-four egg-sample?) this environmentally-sympathetic beauty has recently appeared on the towpath at Wardle. It is matched in subtlety only by the Canal Company Ltd.’s “corporate branding” of “screaming blue” signs everywhere.

A “Ground Mark”, whatever that may be. There are no overhead power cables to be ware of, no obvious gas pipeline running from Kamchatka to the Home Counties via the Wardle towpath.

Not even any indication whom a Snowflake might sue, should they fall over it and break an eyelash or something such. A compound fracture of the feelz-bone or a bruising of the emotionz-gland…

Some “authority” has just wandered along and – quite literally – staked a claim. Banged their “authority” into – public – ground, into the fabric of England, right beneath our feet.

I wonder what the penalties would be were I, the (putative, highly-unlikely) employer of these (anything but servile) public servants, to do something similar?

What might the penalties be were some grumpy old fart to sashay along there under cover of darkness with a crowbar and just remove the thing?

I think that I think too much, certainly so for one of my lowly status.

Nanny knows best.

I’ll give you a head-start, Justin Case, you want to apply your brain-gland to the concept.

As a human bean I might, should C&RT decide to do so, have my home confiscated and sold from under me should I transgress not in law, but simply transgress in their opinion agin one or any of the “License Terms and Conditions” unilaterally invented and privately imposed by the commercial Canal Company Ltd. No-one would have “responsibility” for my welfare, not one august body would care a jot whether I lived, died, or simply froze solid in my homelessness – unless my cadaver came to be regarded as litter, in which case the fine that my mortal remains might incur begin at £1,000.

The penalty in England for disturbing one bird and/or one nest – any sort of bird, not just “endangered” species – potentially thus even a feral hen nesting in my gas locker – is an unlimited fine and up to six months in gaol. The consequences increase from that starting point. Prosecutions are frequent and numerous; the Police Force (it is not, and never was, whatever they try to say, a “service”) has an entire branch dedicated to the welfare of our little cloaca-bearing feathered friends – and none specifically dedicated to the welfare of grumpy gits living on their narrowboats.

Whither then the true, real-world value of Human Beans? Not the value that we assume for ourselves, but that placed on us by “our” public servants.


I really ought to think less when I am out for walkies. Perhaps leave the old brain-gland at home.

Does anyone know what the laws relating to and penalties for leaving a young brain-gland alone at home and unsupervised might be? I’m sure that they’re severe…

Chin-chin. Ian H., & Cardinal W.


    1. The canals of England are a microcosm of life – but a slice with much more emphasis on the “weird” ends of the bell-curve. You see everything on the canals but much more of the “once seen cannot be unseen”! Sometimes I worry about fitting in – success and failure both have dire implications for my own character and appearance!


  1. The ground marks are for the clockers. When your brain’s in the clouds and your head’s up your arse, a ground mark is essential to keep you on track.

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    1. The spotter who patrols this corner of the C&RT drainage system has a popular reputation that suggests that he would ticket his own great-grandmother were her wheelchair to be found stationary too close to a bridge-hole. He has on many occasions clocked me while I am on the cut cruising (not moored) and even while in locks…

      I do wonder whether should I pull that ugly nail out of the ground the whole planet might develop some high-pitched slow leak…

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    1. Indeed so. Tis the attitude of “ownership” of us that makes my blood boil. The individual ought to remain utterly untouched by “society” unless society can produce an intelligent and well-argued, evidence-supported document to justify the intrusion.

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  2. I think it would be all right to leave the young brain gland alone and unsupervised if it was being unsupervised by entities in a same sex relationship…or so I glean from the workings of what is laughingly called social services. Any complaints would be classed as ‘malicious’.
    One way of taming the rich would be to take over the airports used by their private jets and annihilate them as they emerge…pour encourager les autres.

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    1. I cannot believe that thieving, duplicitous, lying, self-centred ba*stards such as Bilious Gaters and his like are consulted and involved openly in “government”! Their only claim to notoriety is – in BG’s case – to have fiddled his early partners out of their stock options! Wholly unelected – and unwanted. A complete re-design of human society is essential if we are not to charge off down some combined slippery slope and survival cul-de-sac.

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      1. If you ever get a chance to watch a recently released film called ‘Don’t Look Up’, you will see exactly this scenario in play.
        I watched it recently in a sort of a half horror/half giggling fugue-state.
        It’s no wonder the ‘critics’ got their undies in a bunch at the audacity of the film-maker to show the emperors naked bum. 😀

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I shall seek it out – and also make sure that I am in a suitable frame of mind before I watch!

          A similarly portentious film is ‘Equilibrium’ (2002). An uncomfortable viewing… 😉

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  3. Was it you or someone else I follow who mentioned the future intention of your gob’mnt to eliminate the grand public right of way laws that currently exist. Apparently billionaires are bothered by the plebs in the gardens they never visit. It feels like a tangible canyon being cut in the space between the haves and the have nots.

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    1. Others will doubtless have mentioned it but I did raise the matter. In England all public rights of way not (successfully, comprehensively, undeniably) “registered” or “re-registered” with the “authorities” by 2026 will lapse – including pathways used for quite literally thousands of years. The right to roam, so called, is being curtailed, the Police Bill is sailing through Westminster redefining trespass and “nuisance” – the countryside is being put off limits by those who “own” it. We plebs will have nowhere to go but our dormitory bunks and our work stations. Cue the khaki overalls for all, a la Fritz Lang et al.

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