The Sun tells us that a Jewish policeman has asked for Friday afternoons off to observe the Sabbath. And they are furious. Quite why, I'm not sure - I don't think that Jewish people taking the Sabbath off is anything new and scary. Slow news day? Then again, this could be the start of something terrible which Murdoch's boys and girls are just trying to save us from. Whatever next? You could have duty policemen taking midweek evenings off to go raiding in the Temple of Ahn'Qiraj with their guild in World of Warcraft. A terrifying thought indeed. Not only would there be a real lack of policing numbers during the raid, but you'd also have hundreds of grumpy policemen in the morning after because the whole raid died just before the final boss did.

Posted by Jack at 09:35 AM | Permalink

The US has built a giant microwave cannon as a crowd control weapon. I'm disappointed with two things with this. One, it doesn't make any noise. Any good sci-fi weapon has to make a lot of 'pewpewpew' noises. Two, the name. They call it 'active denial'. That's far too vague. Active denial is what happens when people say "Piss off, I'm not going to sleep with you".

Posted by Jack at 10:03 AM | Permalink

Yesterday on the train to Leeds, I encountered a most curious specimen. A creature that sadly is now rarely seen on our green and pleasant shores... a truly freakish drug person. The actions of nefarious forces such as the home office have driven these interesting animals out of the country or underground, only to emerge during major music festivals and lunar eclipses. But there was one bold as brass sitting in front of me in the carriage.

Pillarbox red face, bulging eyes, maniacally restless jaw... here was a man deep in the throes of a king-hell dose of crank. The odd fellow had a tattoo of a dragon running up the length of his arm, and he occasionally barked into a mobile phone with gibberish about "Is it ready? Is it ready?! It's gotta be ready!". The conductor took one glance at him and decided he'd best not try to interact with things he can't understand or take in a fight. Wise behaviour, certainly - it's seen me through up until now.

Occasionally he stared at me from across the aisle. Looking up from my book, to be confronted by a pair of cue balls with tiny black dots in them fixed at me... a worrying sight. Ignore it and it'll go away. Hopefully. Eventually the time came to disembark... Christ! He's getting up too. Is he going to follow me? Perhaps beat me to death with a luggage trolley, skin me and wear my flesh, taking on my life in a grotesque impersonation, explaining away the gorey appearance by telling people he'd got into a fight with a cordless iron and lost. What an awful way to go. Thankfully, the bugger went straight past me and locked himself into the toilet.

I can't help but wonder if he ever made it out of there, his hands unable to deftly manipulate the lock. Howling and raving, stuck inside a small cupboard in a metal box hurtling through the country at a hundred miles on an hour. You'd have to be a strange person to lay that on yourself. It'd be difficult to match anything after that, certainly. Perhaps dropping a few tabs of acid and taking a trans-Atlantic flight, or going onto a rollercoaster with a little brown bottle of MDMA in your pocket. The need for speed.

Posted by Jack at 11:09 AM | Permalink

Define "sodding typical". No, don't bother, I'll do it for you. After getting your hands on a copy of The Burning Crusade and finishing all your uni work, what would be the most annoying thing to happen? That's right, a PC gone tits up which needs to be reformatted. Arggggggh. With emphasis on the 'g'.

Posted by Jack at 10:28 PM | Permalink

Apparently some ballet dancer is a member of the BNP. This probably isn't publicity that the BNP needs - after all, they're a hardline political party. How disappointing it must be for them to find out their support consists of a fluffy pink ballerina, and not a group of tough brutes styled around the cast of Deadwood.

Posted by Jack at 08:14 PM | Permalink

It's not long now until Blizzard releases the World of Warcraft expansion pack, The Burning Crusade. Thankfully all my uni work will be handed in and finished before it comes out on Tuesday, so I can spend the necessary 20 hours a day hunched over my computer looking for a slightly better sword than the one I have now. Bliss.

Posted by Jack at 01:39 AM | Permalink

A whole load of billboards are being put up in Scotland carrying messages such as "You're useless" to raise awareness about verbal abuse. A noble cause, certainly, but I can't help but feel they lifted the idea from They Live. If they want to back this thing the whole way, they should get Rowdy Roddy Piper to support the campaign.

Posted by Jack at 08:59 PM | Permalink

Make it your mission in life to visit Stones Throw Records and download the latest collaboration between Talib Kweli and Madlib - Liberation. It's a rather superb slice of hip hop and well worth a punt. "Happy Home" is probably the best track on there, but THEY'RE ALL GOOD.

Posted by Jack at 02:37 AM | Permalink

A charity called Sense About Science has already become my favourite good cause of the year. They've been pointing out celebrities who have no clue about science and have been talking a load of bollocks. Some of the stuff they're saying is even better than when Doctor Fox appeared on Brass Eye to tell people that it's scientific fact (with no evidence, but it's fact) that paedophiles are genetically classed as crabs. Choice cuts: Madonna's apparently been working with a team of scientists to find a way to "neutralise radiation", Melinda Messenger is frightened of "man-made chemicals" filling her body (despite carrying two large bags of man-made chemicals in front of her at all times), and Chris De Burgh thinks he's Jesus and can remove pain with just a touch of his hand. This shit writes itself!

Posted by Jack at 07:59 PM | Permalink

Apparently Iraq faces a new terror - Saddam Hussein's ghost. Yeah. Ghost. Personally, I'd be more interested if this were the case - the man that was hanged was not Saddam Hussein, but actually turned out to be one of his numerous body doubles. The real Hussein would actually be living it up in Barbados, piloting some kind of giant war mech straight for Washington, or wandering around with pale make up on, frightening people in Baghdad with his ghost act. Tom Clancy would probably have a heart attack. And isn't that what we all want?

Posted by Jack at 01:22 PM | Permalink