Showing posts with label .666 recurring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label .666 recurring. Show all posts

Monday, 21 May 2012

The world according to Snafu - What is in a name?

I have noticed of late a certain interest in some kind of sporting event taking place here in the UK.  It is just a hunch you understand but I think this event is going to take place in London sometime this year.  The organisers have been doing their bast to keep it quiet having suppressed the use of the name of the event by everyone in the UK, forcing owners of a certain Greek cafĂ© in London to change its name and a certain chain of restaurants to re-name their larger portioned breakfast to something less like the name of the home of the Greek pantheon. 
This is so that people, presumably only those that are hard of understanding, will not be confused by the similarity in names and will mistakenly believe that eating a huge fried breakfast with the same name as the unmentionable event will suddenly make them into a supreme athlete and will take all the gold medals in the forthcoming events.
The organisers also seem to have got a bit confused about the route their people will take to get from Lands End to London. Apparently they want to light a big gas lamp for some reason, and this makes me wonder as to the age of the organisers.  I would like to point out to them that things have moved on a bit since the first of these games and electricity has been around for some time now in the UK.  Electric lighting is much more efficient and a good deal safer than gas.  Also if they really must use such an antiquated from of lighting, for the last millennium or so it has been possible to light a gas flame at any time, you do not need to carry a naked flame around with you anymore.   Because no one seems to have told the organisers this, they have organised a vast team of people to carry a lit torch for miles, seemingly following a route planned using a GPS, which will take this incredibly dangerous flaming torch all over the country.  After days and days of wandering around seemingly lost, some poor exhausted runner will get to light the gas lamp.
 I personally think this is an outrageous waste of money and have posted a box of matches to the organisers with a note explaining to them that if they insist in using gas lighting, this is a much more cost effective way of lighting their gas lamp and is a method that has been satisfactorily used ever since Victorian times when the gas lamp was leading edge technology. 
Another aspect of this strange event is the logo one sees here and there in surprising places, such as on a packet of biscuits, my credit card and other unlikely places.  For some time I assumed it was representing a pile of rocks, but someone pointed out it is supposed to say 2012.   Well, I can only say is if I had written that number in such wobbly way when I was at primary school, I would have got 0 out of 10 for my writing.  It is not even on one line, the 20 is above the 12, actually making it 20 divided by 12, which is 1.666 recurring.  Maybe this is not a coincidence, since it turns out awfully like the number of the beast from the Book of Revelations.   This would actually account for a lot, in particular the draconian way in which the name of the event has been proscribed by the organisers, even though these names were in existence decades before this event was to come to the UK.  This may also account for the ancient technology they want to use, since they will be very old if they are the group I think they must be and they have not kept abreast of changes in the world.
So beware the 2012 un-nameable event, it is surely a trick to capture the souls of the unwary and I for one will avoid it like the very devil. 
Mind you I never was that much into sport anyway.  This I assume was a result of my school days.  Sport always meant humiliation to me since I had a puny body which was always hopelessly out classed by my peer group.  Nonetheless I was always forced to compete as if I actually stood a chance against my huge and heavily muscled classmates and I now realise this must have been because our sports master was kin to the organisers of the 2012 un-nameable event. I always thought he had a funny name with all those forenames and a strange set of initials, Mr Brian L Z Bubb.