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A few weeks back, Sanna Marin (the Finnish PM) was dragged over the fire for daring to dance. She "volunteered" to take a drug test, which she passed, of course.
And today's big whinge? How dare Justin Trudeau (Canadian PM) sing Bohemian Rhapsody.
Social media didn't demand Mr. Trudeau take a drug test, but it was pointed out that he didn't appear to be drunk. But, for an important person, the leader of a country, it was so so embarrassing.
You know what's embarrassing? You cockwombles doing all the whinging. Yes, he was in London for a serious event (guess what!), but just like Marin, he is a person. He/she can be serious when they need to be, but they aren't in Prime Minister mode 24/7, they have lives.
Clearly, unlike those making the noise on social media.
So, for the avoidance of all doubt, let me tell you four things that I want at my funeral. Pay attention.
Number one - play "I'm Gonna Be" by The Proclaimers. That's the one that most people think is called "500 Miles".
Number two - audience participation is obligatory. Especially the "da duh da dah!" part.
Number two and a half - being sober is not obligatory. If my service is in the town where I live right now, there's a bar directly opposite the church. Feel free. But drink with moderation, if you vomit in church you'll go straight to valhalla to be tortured by Vikings. No, you won't go to hell. God reserves special punishment for people who puke in holy places because they drank too much. The Vikings had some original ways of making people hurt.
Number three - play me out with Nightwish's "Ghost Love Score", preferably the Floor/Wacken version (if you haven't heard that one, or don't know what I'm on about, look it up on YouTube and prepare to have your mind blown).
Number three and a half - all of "Ghost Love Score". ☺
Number four - if you play Ava Maria (any version), I will rise from the dead and kill you all. I hate it with a passion normally reserved for rap or bad jazz.
Optional extra: Anything by The Birthday Massacre and/or "Bat Out Of Hell" (including the intro).
Optional extra: Feel free to incribe my headstone (or head-piece-of-wood, whatever) with the necessary information expressed as hex bytes. The Mayor and his family (his sister holds the church services in the absence of an actual priest) probably won't like it as they are rather traditional, but you might be able to sneak a few things in whilst they are trying to get over a bunch of people taking it up to eleven over a perky song that, to them, will probably be an incomprehensible language (you and I know it's a Scots accent from around Fife, I think, but to them...).
Assuming, of course, that Floor's vocals didn't put them in their own coffins.
I'm serious. If and when I croak, if you want to come to my funeral, I demand (post-humously, of course) a rousing rendition of "I'm Gonna Be"... right in the middle of the event.
And, equally seriously, no Ava-Friggin-Maria.
What's wrong with French Metal?
I originally wrote above that I hated Ava Maria with the passion reserved for rap, bad jazz, and French metal. But I don't actually hate French metal, I just think it sucks.
This isn't to say that French people can't create metal. The band Gojira is quite popular, especially the album Magma, though not really my thing.
No, the biggest problem with French Metal is... well... French. It's not a language that lends itself to "being metal".
Think of what "metal" means. The most recent epic depiction was the dude on the caravan (Eddie Munson) belting out some Metallica in order to attract the flying monster bat things so the other guys could go bother Vecna, this big trans-dimensional demon thing.
Take that ethos and apply it to human speech. You know what you end up with? German. German is what happens if you mix language and metal. Rammstein could read their shopping receipt and it would sound badass (unless, perhaps, you actually understand German and you'd be like "what? two litres of water, a pack of oven chips, and cat food?". For the rest of us, "Zvei! Liter! Vasser! Einuh! Packung! Ofenchips! Und! Katzen! Footer!".
(spelling more like it is spoken, so no corrections please ☺)
What you don't end up with is French. French is the language you use if you want people to get moist while you're describing the correct way to whip cream.
Or reading your shopping list... "deww liiitrrrred'oh, an packette de frriiiteauwfoourrr et de la nurrrriturrrre puurrrr shat"
You know those two ladybirds and the whispered "jeeeeh taaaaaime.... jeeeeh taaaaaime" that sounded like a slow motion orgasm? That is French.
I suppose, in the interest of fairness, I ought to do English: "Wa'er innit, two of 'em mate. And chips. Them ones you can frow in duh oven, mate, but not the pants ones 'cuz they're proper minging. And some bog-standard nibbles for me cat 'cuz eez proper Hank Marvin. Sort that mate, and Robert's yer mother's brother.".
Monday morning, 8.20am, I placed my ready meal (chicken and potatoes with a white sauce, it seems to think it's "American" for some reason) into the fridge at work. On top of that, my yoghurts. And in the door, some milk for my tea.
I went on break at 2.05pm. In the fridge was my milk and the yoghurts. And an absence of ready meal.
I sent an email to my boss to report it, though other than saying "that's unbelievable" there isn't really much they can do. I also told a few people known for gossip and word spread.
I have an idea who may have done it. It was a new person who came in that morning, and let's just say that they seemed like the sort that I wouldn't trust in broad daylight. There was no pack in the bin, so I rather imagine that when morning shift ended at 1pm, it was swiped and taken home to eat.
As I expected, this person wasn't in today, and probably won't ever be. It's far easier to be a pathetic piece of crap that steals other people's stuff than, you know, work for a living.
However, just in case it was somebody else, or this person managed two days, I decided to... be tactful.
Y'all know how I do tactful, right?
My meal, with a subtle message.
I printed off a few pages of that (made in 30 seconds using Google Docs), so I'll wrap up my meal for the next few days "just in case"... but it was something of a talking point in the break room so, yeah, I think the message got around.
And most people were like "what the hell, really?" and, let's just say, not entirely polite about some of the temp workers.
In the supermarket today, I picked up a bag of self-raising flour as I might sometime soon give David's recipe a whirl if it'll work without the almonds (don't see why not).
Got home, took the flour out and part of the fold at the top popped open, to reveal a sort of spider-web stuff, something that looked like an elongated earwig, and several little maggot things.
Flour bugs. Well, more technically "weavils". A sort of beetle.
The whole thing went into an old plastic bag and into the bin (outside). Kind of glad I spotted that before it went on the shelf, but... I guess I won't be buying any flour from that place now. I don't know if it is them, their warehouse, or the supplier, but it's best to consider all of the flour (stocked side by side) as contaminated. And given how prolific and endemic these little bug(ger)s are, that's probably very very correct.
There are only three solutions. One, only use wholewheat flour. Apparently the bugs aren't taken by "healthy" options. Two, freeze the flour for about two weeks. That puts an end to their exploits so there might be bug eggs in the flour but they won't be viable. Or three, try a different supermarket.
And, always, keep flour in some sort of sealed container. I keep mine in a jar with a sealed lid, like the sort of jar one keeps spaghetti in.
As for David's recipe? Well, I have "levure chimique", raising powder. So I can always fake it.
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|Anon, 21st September 2022, 10:38|
I have the CD of The Proclaimer's "Sunshine On Leith" here. Track 1 - "500 Miles (I'm Gonna Be)".
At my funeral, assuming I'm cremated, I've done a playlist:
Fire - The Prodigy
Time To Burn - Storm
I'm On Fire - Bruce Springsteen
Firestarter - The Prodigy
Sway - Coal Chamber 
 That's the song with the line "the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire... we don't need no water let the motherf****r burn!"
Finishing off with:
Killing In The Name - Rage Against The Machine
(You know the one... F*** YOU I WON'T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!)
After The Fire Is Gone - Daryle Singletary with Rhonda Vincent
Ashes By Now - Lee Ann Womack
Ashes - Martina McBride
Did I mention I want to be cremated? One last indulgence for my inner pyromaniac.
|John, 21st September 2022, 11:20|
"I'm Gonna Be" a good choice; I did notice that Her Majesty was similarly inclined and that,amongst other popular numbers, one of the bands was playing "Let the wind blow high", otherwise known as "Donald, where's yer trewsers?".
I've now decided to post my playlist on a website and have a direct cremation with no other participants.
I had thought I would record my playlist on memory sticks to be handed-out - the ones they give you with photo-prints would do - but the whole thing turned out to cost too much, so it's an illegal free download/stream now. After all, I'll be dead!
|J.G.Harston, 21st September 2022, 11:40|
When I wrote up my will ten years ago I drafted a set of funeral notes to go with it. More recently I've been running through some thoughts on the inevitable event of planning my Mum's funeral. Joan Baez's Rejoice In The Sun (aka Silent Running theme) is top of the list.
|John, 21st September 2022, 11:52|
Curiously, I had recently been remembering my own experience of the dreaded weevils, which was with pelleted catfood nearly 50 years ago. "Go-cat"?
My disposal technique was cremation in the oil-drum incinerator which I used at the time for all paper and uncontroversial waste. These were unsophisticated days.
On the lunch issue, I would have been tempted to lace a further lunch with laxative - phenolphthalein, perhaps
|Rick, 21st September 2022, 14:16|
John: On the lunch issue, doing such a thing is of rather dubious legality.
However, the thought had crossed my mind, should the meal continue being taken...
Anon1: If setting the world on fire seems like a good idea, maybe you ought to keep it to yourself. Plausible deniability and all that.
Anon2: If setting the world on fire seems like a good idea, perhaps I ought to send you directions to Westminster? ;)
It's almost November, you can finish what Guy Fawkes started, eh?
|Rick, 21st September 2022, 14:18|
John - PS - of course THAT would be the day it isn't stolen, right?
|John, 22nd September 2022, 12:50|
Rick said: John: On the lunch issue, doing such a thing is of rather dubious legality.
I have since checked up on phenolphthalein and found that is no longer used as a laxative due to possible carcinogen properties, so perhaps an alternative would be more appopriate. Depends how strongly you feel about your lunch. I, in your position, would simply eat cake (echoes of Marie-Antoinette myth!)!
|Gavin Wraith, 22nd September 2022, 13:11|
Elaborate funerals are either for those at the top of the ladder, or the bottom if their family can afford it. Undertakers, and to a certain extent the legal requirements, take advantage of mourners' vulnerability. I hate to think that my wife or children should spend anything on my funeral. Memorials are occasionally useful to historians, but why hang on to the past? Best to have wooden memorials that rot in synchrony with the memories of those still living.
As to music - my preference would be Francesco Canova da Milano's Ricercar No.1 . Short and joyful.
|VinceH, 24th September 2022, 01:43|
I'm not fussed whether I'm burned or buried - just so long as I'm dead first, which I feel is an important consideration.
More important to me is that the memory of me and who I am isn't sullied with anything religious at the funeral.
I like the idea of saying up front what I want played, though - and given my view on religion, unsurprisingly my choices of music would emphasise that. Something that would be very out of place in a church if some twerp decides to hold the service in one. I might give some proper thought to a playlist and put it online - but what immediately springs to mind is Numan's "The Angel Wars" as something to be played at the main service.
|VinceH, 24th September 2022, 02:10|
Thinking back, I was musing on this a long time ago, and - on my phone, all I had with me ATT - wrote a sort of poem (more in the format of a song). I *thought* I'd copied it off, but I can't see it in my main filing system (and I don't appear to have copied it forward to this one).
I can remember the first two lines:
"No songs of 'God',
No word of 'the Father'".
And that it ends with a threat (that can't happen) if my wishes aren't upheld:
"I'll haunt you forever."
I really must find it; it'd be a good choice for a reading at the service! ;)
|Rick, 24th September 2022, 10:28|
Eternity is a VERY long time.
I'm sure a suitably motivated spirit can find a way to mess with the living...
|VinceH, 24th September 2022, 14:28|
A fresh look this morning and I've found it sitting in an 'OldPCTfr' folder sitting in a dusty corner of an old backup folder. I really need to go through stuff like that and migrate things into my current system - which itself has become a bit untidy, so I should probably start afresh.
Which means the current stuff will end up in an 'old...' folder, and nothing at all will be in the new current stuff, until a year's time when I look for something, find it in an old folder and say... pretty much what I've just said. ;)
Anyway... pretty much word for word as above. Only difference are the word 'God' isn't in inverted commas (but should be to reflect my position), and the last line in full is 'Pray for me and I'll haunt you forever'.
The idea of a motivated spirit is at odds with my (lack of) beliefs, though. The bit I mean 'can't happen' is the idea of haunting - I find it far easier to believe that when you're dead, that's it, nada. The alternatives just make no sense to me. Putting it in that bit of verse just 'worked' because it adds a threat, rather than leaving it as a request. IYSWIM.
|Rob, 28th September 2022, 02:16|
When my dad died a few years ago, mum asked several different undertakers for quotes. Dad wouldn't have stood for anything less. To a one, they were very surprised, shocked even. I guess most people just go with whoever answers the phone first..
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