February lasted longer than January this year. Man it took ages. I'm celebrating with some tea as we speak. I wouldn't say March is a favourite month, but it is one of my least despised months.
Cheltenham is my annual guilty pleasure. Spring is approaching rapidly from the south, the NCAA basketball March Madness thing begins, which I still follow from my yankee doodle dandy days and every month that passes brings us closer to the conclusion of the Bush administration.
Let me tell you people, all those times over these last four years when I've wondered whether it worth getting out of bed, or eating or breathing it's been witnessing the back of George Bush that has given me the front to jolly well put my pants on and go and eat some cereal, yes sir.* * *
So there's a couple of issues we need to address this morning. I've had my team flying monkeys working on the various conspiracy theories surrounding the attacks on the Pentagon on 9/11/2001. What we've been able to establish is that whatever it was that blasted its way through the first sections of the building that morning it was not a passenger airliner.
I'm afraid it looks like American Airlines flight 77 was actually shot down by the US Air Force, as was flight 93 which the Bush people had us all believing had crashed after the passengers overwhelmed the terrorists.
What appears to have happened was once the World Trade Center was attacked it became clear to the Bush people that two more planes were on there way to blow other stuff up. So they shot them down. They figured that the White House and Pentagon were the targets (each of which were actually empty at the time) and considered them to be more valuable than the 200 people on the two planes.
They then fired a missile at the section of the Pentagon which was uninhabited due to a refurbishment to give the impression it was attacked. An attack which no one witnessed, no one photographed, no one filmed and at a site where no debris from a plane was ever seen. Did you ever see a tail of a plane sticking out of the building, cause I didn't. It took the Heathrow people four days to move that plane that crash landed a few weeks ago, but they appeared to have shifted an exploded plane off the lawn of the Pentagon before the nearest Japanese tourist could get a shot off. Bah! Nonsense.
A damn shame really all of these cover ups, I expected more from the world's beacon of democracy and so on...we'll know I'm right in about 75 years when the classified documents are released and immediately re-classified for another 75 years before anyone sees them cause they can't afford to let the American people know what the fuck their own Government is capable of. We'll know who shot Kennedy before we know for sure what happened that day. I think you know what I'm trying to say.* * *
This week I've been daft enough to bet on darts. It was a fair enough bet, but I ought not to be betting on things I don't understand or know anything about. I am still fascinated by the game though. There's an element of pantomime about it with all the booing and hissing and what not and I find it amusing. You just don't get people doing this at the snooker. Why not? Who decides which sports the crowd can and can't throw beer at the players? Why are people obliged to keep schtum at tennis, but not beach volley ball? I want answers damn it?
This weekend I have only one bet. It's a treble if you must know. I've a stirring feeling somewhere deep within that Derby will actually win this weekend as will West Brom and Liverpool. If they don't, well...they must.
I'm working on a new poker strategy as we speak. It's in its infancy at the moment, but it might just work. See the problem for me is this: at school I was a numbers kinda guy. I performed poorly in English language lessons, my creative writing was appalling, my grammar shocking, my spelling atrocious and so on. Numeracy however was my dogs bitch. People don't know this about me, but I came very close to becoming an accountant. I even worked in a bank God damn me.
These days however, I've switched disciplines and I struggle with even the most basic equations. This is a handicap when it comes to playing poker. So I am now learning to view poker hands as stories rather than assessing them according to game theory and numerical value; plots and narratives people rather than bets, odds, investments and returns.
You see people, there are only basically seven types of stories: 'The hero with the fatal flaw," as in Moby Dick and Othello; "Virtue ultimately rewarded," as in Jane Eyre and Catherine Cookson novels; "Two's company three's a crowd," as in Gone with the wind; "The star crossed lovers," as in King Kong and Romeo and Juliet; "The perilous journey." as in Lord of the Rings and Rocky; "Nemesis" type stories as in The hand that rocks the cradle and finally the "Triumph of good over evil," as in James Bond novels, Robin hood and Star Wars.
Now then...because betting a hand of poker is essentially telling a story too one must follow the same structure as the seven literary stories and so the outcomes must be the same. The theory is to recognise which story you're involved in, which part you're playing and act accordingly.
When the story deviates from the templates one can assume something is afoot. Either a bluff or you've run into a monster, decide which and act accordingly. That's as succinct as I can explain it anyway. I'll explain further when I've developed the theory some more or lost all my money and my journey into the deepest reaches of lunacy is complete.
This weekend I have only one bet. It's a treble if you must know. I've a stirring feeling somewhere deep within that Derby will actually win this weekend as will West Brom and Liverpool. If they don't, well...they must.* * *
I'm working on a new poker strategy as we speak. It's in its infancy at the moment, but it might just work. See the problem for me is this: at school I was a numbers kinda guy. I performed poorly in English language lessons, my creative writing was appalling, my grammar shocking, my spelling atrocious and so on. Numeracy however was my dogs bitch. People don't know this about me, but I came very close to becoming an accountant. I even worked in a bank God damn me.
These days however, I've switched disciplines and I struggle with even the most basic equations. This is a handicap when it comes to playing poker. So I am now learning to view poker hands as stories rather than assessing them according to game theory and numerical value; plots and narratives people rather than bets, odds, investments and returns.
You see people, there are only basically seven types of stories: 'The hero with the fatal flaw," as in Moby Dick and Othello; "Virtue ultimately rewarded," as in Jane Eyre and Catherine Cookson novels; "Two's company three's a crowd," as in Gone with the wind; "The star crossed lovers," as in King Kong and Romeo and Juliet; "The perilous journey." as in Lord of the Rings and Rocky; "Nemesis" type stories as in The hand that rocks the cradle and finally the "Triumph of good over evil," as in James Bond novels, Robin hood and Star Wars.
Now then...because betting a hand of poker is essentially telling a story too one must follow the same structure as the seven literary stories and so the outcomes must be the same. The theory is to recognise which story you're involved in, which part you're playing and act accordingly.When the story deviates from the templates one can assume something is afoot. Either a bluff or you've run into a monster, decide which and act accordingly. That's as succinct as I can explain it anyway. I'll explain further when I've developed the theory some more or lost all my money and my journey into the deepest reaches of lunacy is complete.
* * *
I think it's time for another cup of tea now don't you? Excellent, well have a pleasant weekend, let me leave you with this;
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