I had a quick play with Aardvark – tapping into the network through MSN. It’s incredibly easy to use and, in my (admittedly limited) experience, returns great answers. I’ve already ordered two books on Amazon based on user recommendations.
Will Aardvark replace Yahoo Answers as the webosphere’s crowdsourced knowledge-hole of choice? Maybe not… As of yet, the Earth Pig has yet to throw me any gems like this…
That is probably the least intelligent headline to arise from this laughable right-wing campaign that’s been sending waves of crazy across the US.
If you’re unfamiliar with this bizarre protest that’s as contextually incongruous as it is endearingly smutty, MSNBC summarise the whole affair in fantastic, pun-filled fashion:
I defy you not to recoil from the adulterous thrust of Deadlamb’s Giblets! This Tumblr-based frottage of the mind has been reskinned using Paul Giacherio’s superb Museum theme. And if you didn’t know you could change the appearance of your Tumblog beyond what’s offered as standard, cast your enlightened gaze upon Tumblr’s own Theme Garden, alternatively (if you hate the obvious option) there’s plenty more industrious designs by ingenious buggers to find using that search engine what everyone thinks is the internets.
Returning visitors (that’s you, Jim) will notice that it’s now even more like the mood boardy, inspiration wall I want it to be.
If you really want to get into the spirit of my giblets, whack your browser to full screen, listen to the punk rock cover of 99 Red Balloons by Goldfinger and let the incredible imagery cut your brain a fresh fuck hole while fingerbanging your ocular receptors.
Growing up in Didcot is very much like having a prostate exam. As much as you never wanted to be in such a position and as much as you try to get on with your life as if nothing happened, you can’t escape the knowledge that, metaphorically speaking, you HAVE had another man’s finger up your ass.
The sheer existence of Didcot relies on the necessity to link A and C with a B. While the eponymous parkway may have put Didcot on the map, it was the later introduction of the coal-burning power station that made it a visible blight on the landscape. While both the railway station and impressive cooling towers can be appreciated from either the comfort of a train carriage or a reasonably tall hill several miles away, you need to get closer to discover what really makes Didcot so…well, I guess you have to go there to understand (or maybe just read the relentlessly dull Twitter feed)
I was able to escape a little under a year ago and, to be honest, expected to miss the ol’ place a lot more than I do. I still return every now and again to visit my parents or scope some feral jailbait and I’m genuinely surprised by how much shittier the place is than I remember. Recently, I was struck with an inescapable comparison to the moment in Back to the Future Part II when Marty travels back from 2015 to find Hill Valley totally fucked – except worse as I didn’t even have a hover board.
Before tonight, there would have been little I could credit Didcot with except possibly for allowing me to claim a deprived upbringing whenever I think it’ll help. However, after watching an old episode of Mock the Week on Dave earlier, there is one positive thing to say:
Didcot offers undeniable proof that God exists. And he’s a bastard with a sick sense of humour.
You see, a few years back Didcot appeared in the top twenty list of the crappest towns in the UK. If enough people who lived there actually explored the town beyond the route from their home to the train station, this might have been cause for a fuss. As for the young boys and girls who fight with their Abingdon opposites out of pride for their community, their literacy rate falls somewhere just above being able to read the pregnancy test results and below the instructions for a condom, so they wouldn’t have found out about it anyway.
This isn’t shocking anyway. What is mind-blowingly surprising however (and provides final proof in that God character), is that residents of Didcot have the longest, healthiest lives in the whole of England and Wales! This article from The Telegraph uses the phrase “… residents enjoy the longest, healthiest lives…” but I think ‘enjoy’ is surely pushing the limits of journalistic integrity.
What kind of twisted world do we live in where one of the most depressing and soulless places in the UK also has its most healthily long-lived population? Living in Didcot’s kind of like being in a stable coma on life support – do yourself a favour and pull the fucking plug already.
Update! Here’s a video clip of that Mock the Week referencing Didcot (and legs on pies…)
