If the Northern Rock debacle has done nothing else, it's certainly given a lot of people a great opportunity to rant about things they don't understand. The latest example is Granite, the name used for a collection of Special Purpose Vehicles [*] and associated companies [**] used by Northern Rock. According to hard-left MP John … Continue reading Northern Rock again: why Granite isn’t that hard
There's an occasional debate on whether photography is allowed on the Tube, generally sparked when a staff member harrasses someone for doing it. The answer is crystal clear: photography is indeed permitted on the Tube without express permission, as long as you don't do anything dangerous like using a flash, or sell the pictures you … Continue reading Photography on London Underground is permitted
A surprisingly large number of commentators seem to believe that Northern Rock's shareholders should be eligible for some kind of compensation, following the bank's nationalisation. To me, this seems utterly bizarre. According to the Merril/Citi/Blackstone plan to sell Northern Rock in October 2007 (which was leaked by Bad People, and which certainly can't be found … Continue reading Am I missing something here?
In perhaps my proudest moment ever, this blog is the top Google result for "what food do working class people eat?" (it now seems to be showing as second, which is odd since it was showing as first five minutes ago. Google is perplexing. Although not as perplexing as the original question...)
Happy St Cyril's Day, everybody. And bah, humbug to all other saints (yes, even you, Methodius...) Update: this is excellent stuff...
Fine 18th century invective from Captain Christopher Middleton, directed against a random idiot who was talking rubbish on the Pamphletnet - a snip at £2,000. A REJOINDER TO MR. DOBB’S REPLY TO CAPTAIN MIDDLETON; IN WHICH IS EXPOS’D, BOTH HIS WILFUL AND REAL IGNORANCE OF TIDES; &C. HIS JESUITICAL PREVARICATIONS, EVASIONS, FALSITIES, AND FALSE REASONING; … Continue reading …and people criticise me for *my* rhetorical style
If someone had told my 15-year-old self that in the year 2008, I'd be a high-powered professional, up at twenty to one on a Tuesday night in the heart of the big city, eating fried chicken and exploring the innermost parts of models, then I'd've been quite pleased about the way my life was going … Continue reading I tell my mum I play piano in a brothel