Poseidon

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  1. Why not.? Look at all our pagan sites of worship. All turned into churches, for Christianity, which was the last middle Eastern cult that swept through Europe 1500 years ago.
  2. Possibly. But how much is that caffeine kick worth to your career. A boost to your graft and some slick decisions made early on in the day on the back of that double shot flat white and that's you away up the greasy pole.
  3. Not directly. But the amount of welfare is huge and almost all of it gets spent every week, and changes hands many times . It's a huge weekly economic stimulus that if withdrawn would see the collapse of the UK economy.
  4. Proper jobs they maybe. And I don't want to dis your probably hard working and clever offspring. My own job is what I term a proper job. But at the root of every proper job is a fat doley scoffing donuts and watching daytime telly. Okay what I've written is a bit exaggerated maybe, but get rid of all the wasters and stupid spenders and I would be out of my "proper" job in the morning. I suspect your kids would be too.
  5. Yeah maybe a bit tenuous, but I suspect London is full of jobs and money because people are spending there like crazy. Where as where I am there's few jobs and economic activity because the place is full of tight arse farmers.
  6. In fact if you look at government schemes such like motability etc, it seems people aren't buying enough shit they don't need. The government has to step in and do their pointless spending for them.
  7. Chances are they get to work in London because it is the heart of decadence.
  8. True. But only works if a few do it. Sure you can get a bit of independence by not buying that grande latte twice everyday. Which is great. I'm not knocking it. (I live by the same code). But if everyone did it then I'm fucked because I'm a manager a Costas* *I'm not really but you get the point. This current system only works because people buy shit they don't really need.
  9. Falsies. He used to take them out when he ran. The rattling annoyed him.
  10. Posted this before. But find it amusing and posting again here seems almost relavant http://www.badassoftheweek.com/young.html "Tough, dedicated guys in their 20s and early-30s, in the prime of their lives, hardened by years of training into perfect physical specimens, most of them decked out in top-of-the-line aerodynamic racing gear and $400 running shoes provided by wealthy global corporate sponsors like Nike, Reebok, Adidas, and New Balance (just kidding, nobody wears New Balance haha). And there, standing amid the greatest runners the world had to offer in 1983, was this guy: Cliff Young was a toothless 61 year-old potato farmer from Beech Forest, Victoria, who'd lived in a one-room bark hut with six brothers and sisters during the Great Depression and showed up to the starting line of the race in overalls and rain boots. The assembled media took one look at him, shoved a microphone in his face, and asked him what it was going to be like when he keeled over and died of a massive heart attack a hundred and fifty meters in to the 875-kilometer race. He told them, "I grew up on a farm where we couldn’t afford horses or four wheel drives… whenever the storms would roll in, I’d have to go out and round up the sheep. We had 2,000 head, and we have 2,000 acres. Sometimes I would have to run those sheep for two or three days. It took a long time, but I’d catch them. I believe I can run this race; it’s only two more days. Five days. I’ve run sheep for three." Ok, whatever, old man, good luck with that. It also didn't help his case when the starter's pistol went off and this guy started running like this: The field blew him off the line like an '87 Camaro drag racing against the Amish. The pack traveled dozens of miles in the first day alone, pounding their pavement with the ergonomic soles of their cross-trainers while this old geezer shuffled along like a dumbass in his Wellington gumboots, his pace nowhere near that of the elite ultramarathoners who by this point were tens of miles down the road away from him. Then night came. Exhausted from 17 hours of pushing their bodies to the limit, the racers all made camp by the side of the road and went to sleep. All of them, that is, except Cliff Young. You see, it turned out that when Cliff Young said he chased sheeps around his farm for three days, he meant he'd single-handedly manually herded a flock of frightened ruminants across 2,000 acres of farmland for three days straight without stopping or sleeping. When the rest of the field woke up the one morning and saw the tiny shadow of a 61 year-old man shuffling along a few dozen miles down the road ahead of them, they realized they were in trouble. Cliff Young, an overalls-clad sexagenarian potato farmer who had previously been diagnosed with arthritis in most of his leg joints (he claimed he'd "ran it out… like running the rust off an old car") was beating the best athletes in the world – men more than half his age – in a sport that was exclusively dependent upon pushing the human body to the limits of its physical ability. Surviving in hot chocolate and cups of water, Cliff Young shuffled down the highway for five days, fifteen hours, and four minutes straight. The media hype surrounding his ridiculous tortoise-and-the-hare bullshit was so intense that when Young jogged to the finish line in Melbourne he was greeted by TV cameras and a screaming horde of cheering fans. He'd broken the all-time record for the Westfield Sydney to Melbourne Ultra Marathon. By two days. When he got the check for ten thousand dollars, he told the organizers he wasn't actually aware there was a prize for winning. Then he said he felt bad that he should get the prize money when everyone else worked just as hard as him, so he divided the ten grand equally among all the participants in the race."
  11. Because enough of the excess production trickled down We currently live in a world of luxury and comfort unparalled in human history. Put into place years ago by undemocratic systems. Sure as an uneducated celtic navvy, you may have lived and died a harsh life digging a sewer system in London for the man. But now your descendants are living a disease free life of luxury because of it. And maybe those suffering then had an inkling that would be the case. It's probably as far as I can tell that the revolutions took place where the peasant was just working his arse off to stand still and enrich the local lord with no material or technical advancement, however small. And they knew it too. I mean where else was better. Name a (comparable) country that had a better system.
  12. I get given pheasants regularly. Not mega keen on them but I normally end up mixing them with pork belly, sausage meat, bacon and other assorted game and a few cranberries, if I have and making a hot water lard pastry pie. Quite enjoy them that way. Although in your case that means you driving into a nice sized Gloucester old spot and accidently killing it. Sorry I mean the car in front of you driving into one. 😉
  13. Poseidon

    Hardcore

    I'm curious as well. Anyone tell me what's going on here, in simple terms. What are the components and how do they work. How does it compare in power to today's stuff?
  14. Yeah after 4 weeks offshore they all look stunning. Even the tranny motorman
  15. https://www.spiked-online.com/2019/03/15/new-zealand-the-barbarism-of-identity-politics/