Dark Matter.

The photo above (click on it for a larger version) was taken on Slade Green Marshes by me. It shows an old trawler in Erith Yacht Club.

Here is a bit of a philosophical excursion; I was at work, preparing some plasma TV's for use during the budget broadcast, when a thought struck me. It was based on the Microcosm / Macrocosm concept (look it up on Wikipedia by following the link - it will save my typing). Anyway, I have now reached the inescapable conclusion that I know what the large amount of "Dark Matter" that the universe is comprised of is actually made from. As I scrabbled around, fixing cables and plugs to the televisions, I used the mainstay of all engineering enterprises - heavy duty vinyl gaffer tape. Any practical undertaking requires industrial quantities of the stuff - gaffer tape actually holds the planet together. There are only three engineering solutions to any problem that can possibly exist. The three solutions are: 1) WD-40, 2) Gaffer tape and 3) A hammer. The thinking being, if it should move and it doesn't , you need WD-40, if it does move and it shouldn't, you need gaffer tape - and for any other eventuality, you need a hammer. Anyway, since everything on planet Earth requires gaffer tape to work, if you scale this up (where the old microcosm / macrocosm thing comes in - you see, I do think these things through!) One can logically deduct that the dark matter of the Universe is actually gaffer tape. My work here is done...

I have had a bit of a run - in with the local bus company. Here is a transcript of an Email I sent them earlier this week:

I wish to make a formal complaint concerning the driver of a route 99 double decker bus, registration number X313 NNO, yellow card number PD 203 in respect of an incident that occurred on Monday 20th April at approximately 2.20pm. I was a passenger on the aforementioned bus as it travelled down Bostall Hill, towards Plumstead. The bus was travelling at speed down the hill towards a white Nissan Micra, which was indicating to turn right across the traffic flow. The driver misjudged the distance to the stationary Micra, and when he realised his mistake he went into emergency braking. It was apparent that unless something happened, he would hit the car from behind. The driver then steered the bus to the right of the car, and into the oncoming traffic flow coming up the hill. He swerved sharply again, missing a second oncoming car by what appeared to be centimetres before resuming the journey. From the point I boarded the bus in Upper Belvedere, I noticed that the driver was driving erratically, with sudden sharp acceleration and braking, and the driver neglected to open the rear doors on one occasion, and closed them early on a woman who was trying to get off on another. It occurs to me that he may possibly have been under the influence of alcohol or drugs, which might explain his dangerous and erratic behaviour. Please investigate this alarming incident and report back to me with your findings.

No response from them as yet; I will keep you posted.

Which leads me on to an incident on the train from work on Tuesday evening. I was sitting quietly, minding my own business, reading the Times, when a Chav of about 16 years old, accompanied by a couple of junior Chavettes got on the train at Charlton. He sat down opposite a well dressed middle aged woman reading a book; he ostentatiously crossed his baggy jeaned legs and put one leg directly on her lap. She politely asked him to move. His ears were plugged with ear buds from an iPod and her apparently did not hear her. She then carefully moved the offending leg off her lap. The scrote then went ballistic - "Don't you touch me - how dare you touch me - who the f**k do you think you are?" Etc. etc. The woman was taken aback, so I (in full Captain Tweed mode) stepped in. He got increasingly shirty, and then stood up in order to directly challenge me. He was about 5'4" and around nine stone in his baggy gangsta rap jeans and wonky baseball cap (why can't they put them on straight?). I then thought it about time to call his bluff, so I stood up. And up... and up. I am 6'4" tall , weigh around 17 stone and wear size 12 steel toe capped boots, and at the time I had my trademark Harris Tweed jacket and prescription shades on. I told him that he was getting off the train at the next station whether he liked it or not - he started coming out with a smart aleck response, but I could see in his eyes that he realised he had bitten off more then he could chew. As he strutted and posed in front of his two girls, I said "Don't pick battles you cannot win - and be more careful as next time - you might find you encounter someone not as understanding as me". He flinched and did indeed get off the train at Woolwich Arsenal. All ended well anyway; just a case of too much testosterone and not enough brains. Score another win for the Captain.

This weeks' video clip is a bit of an oddity; It is a bit of CGI showing a battle between the Imperial Fleet from Star Wars, and a fleet of Colonial Battlestars. Someone obviously had far too much time on their hands.