Tony Blews

Already this year I’ve travelled more rail miles that in the preceeding ten years. Two Stafford/Preston return trips has reminded me why I avoid the railways like the plague: The Virgin Voyager.

A Voyager at Stafford

Some people might say that they represent a giant leap forward in train technology. These people are probably short, have no sense of smell and enjoy rollercoasters. And are probably clinically insane.

Myself, I’m of above average height, can still smell despite a good few years chain-smoking and hate all fairground rides. I’ll neatly sidestep the sanity issue (I’m typing this on a Datawind Ubisurfer – I must have been bananas to buy it).

My first major moan about the Voyager concerns the piss-awful seats and lack of legroom. Now when I say that I am of above average height I mean that I am abiout six foot four. This doesn’t put me into the realm of basketball players or circus freaks, but it does stop me sitting in most of the seats on a Voyager. Table seats are fine, if you want to share a table with a drunken Scottish squaddie (are they all AWOL and hiding on the trains, or is it always the same one?), and the priority wheelshair users’ seating has sufficient room, but the majority of the seating would require me to undergo a leg-ectomy for me to use them. I suppose I could sit sideways across two seats, but that is uncouth, yobbish behaviour for the sort of folk who play their music loud in public.

Yobbish behaviour

When Charles Darwin designed the human olfactory organs he must have had quite a chuckle to himself when he put in the bits that enable you to smell the unique aroma of a Virgin Voyager. Is a whiff of flatulence combined with a hint of smoke? A solid leavening of used toilet with a dash of electrical burning? Or is it,as I suspect, a full blown massive turd secreted directly on to an electric heater full of cat hair? The reason for this is apparently that the toilet effluent tanks vent into the bodywork, and that the wiring is prone to going shonky. Not even the APT had these features!

An APT, not on fire.

But these are just minor nit-picking flaws, I can almost hear you say. Surely the superior ride quality makes up for them? Well, yes, of course, assuming your  idea of a nice journey involves lurching from side to side, up and down, and occassionally backwards and forwards. During the course of typing this, by netbook as been dislodged from the little wanky tray-table no less than three times. I’d have a smoother ride in a Land Rover. Across a bomb site. Under shelling.

The Next Generation Voyager will have more comforts.

And let us not forget, the government spent millions between 1959 and 1974 to electrify the West Coast Main Line, and now Captain Beardy is pissing all over this by running diesel trains on it. Money well spent! Its like buying the entire run of Star Trek Voyager on DVD, and copying them on to ropey old VHS tapes, then scrubbing the tapes with magnets before watching them.

But never mind. Just watch a video of better times.

As Jon at Crackerwax seems to have started spouting poetry, I thought I’d join in.

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

- William Butler Yeats

Recognise it? It was used as the closing monologue of the Heroes episode “The Second Coming”.

I have made no secret of my hatred of the Citroën Picasso. I feel it is not only an ugly car, but a dangerous one too.  Hence my surprise when Citroën started sending me publicity rubbish through the post, and then this email:

Subject: Book A Test Drive Now!

To celebrate with us, hurry to your nearest Citroën dealer and find out how we’re continuing to inspire and delight discerning motorists with our award-winning range and take advantage of 0% APR typical finance* on the Citroën C4 Picasso, Grand C4 Picasso, new C3 Picasso and the C5.  You can now purchase any Citroën with an extra £2000 off using the government scrappage scheme.

As I would rather push a Ford than drive a Citroën, I shall be declining your offer.

roëne

Hey Fatty, do you want to lose up to a stone and a half in a week? All while lying around the house doing nothing? Yes? Well this is the scheme for you!

Just look at the bonuses:

• Take a week off work (paid if you’re lucky)
• Have nothing to do but lie around and watch the Sharpe series so many times you can memorise every bloody episode
• Save money – live on nothing but anti-viral drugs, Beecham’s Powders and Lockets
• Have some really groovy hallucinations

All you need to do is combine Pandemic H1N1 with a common chest infection and all this can be yours.

(Caution, may also cause extensive hair loss!)

Evony, the browser based game which became notorious for its adverts picturing scantily clad women, amongst other things, has gone a step further with its advertising. From stealing images from costume sites, through some really ropey CGI women, using a model who is a gamer, to outright norkage, it seems that they’ll try anything to attract teenage boys and semi-employed 38 year old geeks to their game. The latest advert doesn’t even name the product, yet has all the hallmarks of their campaign.

First though, here are the adverts from times past:

Classy stuff, i’m sure you’ll agree, and cock all to do with the game which is a poor Civilisation clone with no queen to save, and thus no norks.

And so on to the new advert…

Christ, you’d hardly know it it was for Evony if it wasn’t for the “My Lord” catchphrase, and the the familiar looking button.

Still, it seems to work for them. Gullible idiots seem to be playing the game and even paying for it.

So. If it works for them, it might work for me. If you want to volunteer to show a lot of cleavage to advertise a website of mine, don’t hesitate to contact me. Jon, this does NOT apply to you!