This isn’t so much useful as interesting (if you are that way inclined) There have been some truly awful album covers produced over the years and here’s a collection of them. Some of them are just rubbish, but some are so bad they are funny and it’s hard to believe some of them are real but they are.
There are some extremely camp and gay men featured in some of them too although I’m not sure they were meant to be, or even were seen as such at the time.
Worst album covers ever
Written by Andy(ArT)Trigg on May 24th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Other interesting & useful things.
I’ve been practising my own version of a positive thinking philosophy for a few years now. It’s not based on anything I’ve read, it’s just something I developed as I’ve recognised that many of the events I think are bad for me actually turn out to be good. The same thing happens to everyone else too. It took a couple of years for it to become second nature to me, but now that it is I’m even more chilled than I naturally was anyway. I don’t tend to get upset about most of the negative things that happen and realise that time may well uncover something very positive in them.
I think most of us tend to spend our lives trying to manipulate circumstances to our benefit. When things happen as we want them to we are happy, but when they don’t, we are usually unhappy. But we are always hopelessly incapable of knowing whether any event we interpret as “good”, will remain good and not ultimately turn out to be bad and we can never know if the “bad” that is currently happening to us, will not eventually turn out to be one of the best things that ever happened - and something we would never change.
The point is that knowing whether events will turn out to be good or bad for us is such an inexact science that it’s totally pointless getting upset about most negative events. I just try to do the best I can and if things don’t work out have a sort of faith that many of them will develop or lead onto something so good that I end up being glad it happened that way.
General Examples:
- Think how many people were disappointed not to get a ticket for the maiden voyage of the Titanic?
- Over 200 people applied to be the first civilian in space on the American Space Shuttle Challenger, which blew up on take-off in 1986. Every one of the applicants that missed out was probably seriously disappointed. You ask them now how glad they are they didn’t make it
- I remember seeing an interview with the American, Wayne Bobbitt. The man who had his penis cut off by his wife. Now it’s hard to imagine that as being a good thing, but years later he is quoted as saying it was the best thing that ever happened to him. He is now very rich and famous. A porn star in fact, who has women queuing up for him
I once read a newspaper story of a man knocked down and hospitalised. While operating on him, the surgeons discovered a malignant tumour and removed it saving his life
That’s just a few examples off the top of my head but history is littered with such examples and so are the daily news papers.
It may feel if you fail to get that job you so desperately wanted that a bad thing that has just happened. But how many people make the connection months or even years later, when they are settled into a different job and extremely happy, that they are only in the current situation because they didn’t get that other job? How many people who meet and fall in love with their partner at work make the connection that without the disappointment of the other lost jobs, they would never have met?
It’s possible to sit back and think of almost any good thing in my life and trace it back to something negative that happened.
Personal Examples:
- The reason I work for myself and run my own business is because I was sacked from my job for having an accident with the firms van one too many times. When I had the last accident I would have done anything to turn the clock back, but now I’m glad it happened because it directly led to me starting to work for myself, which I had never thought of before
- My son is only, “my son” and the person he is because of a previous miscarriage. At the time of the miscarriage my wife was obviously devastated, but if it hadn’t happened, we would not now have our Martin. We would have another, totally different child instead, and because we love the one we’ve got, we would not now – even if we could - prevent the previous miscarriage. We are happy the way things have worked out
- I myself am only on this earth because my father’s first wife and son died tragically. As a result, he later remarried and I was his first child. I know bereavement is a dangerous area to venture in with this topic. I don’t wish to undermine anything about this tragic subject or even remotely imply that if bereaved one should treat it lightly at all. It just happens to be an extreme example of positive things that came from something tragic which is an undeniable fact of life
- I can even see examples from my friend’s lives -
- Two of my mates have split up from their wives. One was devastated when she cheated on him. Within a year he was with another partner, buying a house together and very happy. I asked him if he would change what had happened and he said, “no way” - yet he was gutted at the time. My other mate’s split was tough as he had two small kids. He is now living in his own flat, has his own business and a girlfriend. He wouldn’t change a thing either and is very happy
These unexpected turnarounds are not anomalies. Admittedly they don’t always happen that way either, but they do occur far more frequently than we usually realise. Examples of this are so ubiquitous that we often don’t even notice them.
Summary:
I am not saying that we should be glad when bad things happen or there’s no point pursuing good things - that would be stupid. Nor am I saying that all bad things are good things in disguise. I’m definitely not saying we should belittle really bad things that happen either, some things are just bad - full stop - and some bad things will always hurt. I’m just saying that a hell of a lot more of the bad things turn out to be good for us than we would naturally believe - particularly things that in the great scheme of things are relatively minor, but which often have a disproportionately negative effect on us. It’s just that most of the time when they do turn out for the better it goes totally unnoticed, and if so we can spend out lives oblivious to the fact that lots of them aren’t worth getting stressed about. Yet when “bad” things stay bad or good things turn out bad we never forget. We need to balance things up more by recognising how many things we don’t want to happen actually make us better off in the end.
Bread always lands butter side down?
It’s the same principle at work here as how we become convinced that whenever we drop buttered bread, it always lands butter side down on the floor, and whenever we choose the smallest queue in the bank or supermarket, we always end up watching the longer queue go down quicker. Research once showed that dropped buttered bread landed about equally either butter-face-down or face-up, and that queues didn’t follow logic and went down randomly, regardless of length. It was pure chance whether the longer or shorter one was the best to join.
What was proposed as an explanation, was that we have a natural tendency to remember each time the negative outcome prevails more than the positive because it has a greater impact on us. I believe the same thing happens with positive and negative events in our lives.
Now, in my life, I try to reserve judgement before deciding something is definitely bad. The logic of this means that I don’t worry half as much because I usually think that, for all I know, this could turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. If I go to the cinema and the film is sold out, instead of being upset at the film I’ve just missed, I think that maybe the other film I end up choosing, one I didn’t particularly want to see, will turn out to be fantastic. To be able to brush off many of the bad things with a philosophical, “I wonder if this will turn out to my advantage?” has revolutionised my ability to be positive and frees me from a lot of unnecessary stress.
It does work well for the more trivial ups and downs of life but takes commitment to apply it to more apparently serious events like the ones I have quoted. But by learning to see the connections from past events, and opening our eyes to the ever-present examples of how other people experience good-from-bad (in the papers, books and films)it can be a powerful calming force.
I can see the less serious, day-to-day negatives as possible positives. And even for some of the more serious negatives, I now have a little ray of hope that they may ultimately come to be events I wouldn‘t change for anything.
Take any event from your life that you are very happy about, and carefully trace it back through all the other events that were necessary to make it possible. It won’t be long before you see some bad things that were necessary to get you there – how many would you change if you could?
Written by Andy(ArT)Trigg on May 14th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Thoughts & waffling.
This is one of the most contentious and misunderstood aspects of Usenet and Newsgroups. If someone has replied to one of your posts and included a link to this section, then please don’t take offence. Please read, and then decide how to respond.
What is top posting?
Top posting is when a post is replied to in a newsgroup by writing a reply on top of the original post instead of underneath (in the same way as you might do when replying to a private email)
Why do so many people do top posting?
It’s what most of us do with e-mails. It’s by far the best way to conduct a conversation when only two people are following the correspondence and it’s unlikely anyone else will ever need to read all the e-mails at a later date. It seems pretty logical to do the same on a newsgroup unless you know different.
Most new users who are unaware of how newsgroups work instinctively top post. This annoys many members who come across it every day from new users.
Many well intentioned people point top posters to a source that explains the rules. The “offender” may feel embarrassed or indignant and become defensive. Let’s face it, the rules aren’t in an obvious place, and no one told most of us when we signed up to an ISP that there are any rules at all. Instead of being grateful for being pointed in the right direction many people seem to become over defensive and even angry. Some seem to take up top posting as a method of showing how they won’t be told what to do, or just to annoy those “pompus” people who snapped at them.
Some people paint themselves into a corner by over reacting. They can then find it impossible to back down, even if they subsequently realise and accept the logic behind bottom posting.
What’s good about top posting?
Top posting is very quick and convenient. You just read a post, decide to add your views to it and send it off. The great thing is that anyone reading it will get your words straight away, at the top of the post and they’ll never have to scroll down to get to it either.
What’s not so good about top posting?
It is impossible to follow a thread where top posting has occurred because the order gets totally jumbled up. People trying to read the information in these posts will often want to (need to) follow how the conversation evolved. Answers come before questions, and once a few quotes are included it’s a total mess. Also, people who top post never edit the previous quoted post so the size of the post is often considerably larger than necessary.
Too much scrolling? Don’t blame top posting
Top posters often justify the practice by claiming that bottom posting causes people to have to scroll (often a couple of screen lengths) to read new material. This is especially frustrating when the new material turns out to be just one sentence or something as pointless as, “I agree”. The important thing to remember here is that this problem is not caused by bottom posting, but by a lack of editing (or snipping) by a bottom poster. This is another major problem, which has nothing to do with top posting at all.
To really appreciate why people object to top posting you have to remember that newsgroups are a public resource. Many of the news groups have a cliquey feel to them and it’s easy to get the impression that only a small number of people regularly use them. The truth is that people who only read, and never post anything (lurkers) are estimated to outnumber the active posters by anything from 10:1 to 100:1.
The majority of newsgroups are there for people to ask questions on a specialist subject, and get answers from people with greater knowledge. The posts made on news groups are archived for decades - maybe for ever - and will get served up by search engines for years to come as people seek knowledge on certain subjects. It’s the fact that the news groups are an archived resource for people that come after us (the next day or years later) that makes it the decent thing to do to try and allow others to be able to follow the threads.
Top posting doesn’t cause any major problems for the immediate few who may be participating in a discussion. For this reason, some informal news groups, that maybe just chat and have a laugh may even allow top posting.
Lot’s of people don’t like rules, and take great offence to anyone telling them what they can and can’t do. The fact is that you can do what you want. If you want to top post then you can - and no one can stop you. My only advice is to at least look into why these people get so high and mighty about it and then, if you still decide to top post, do so in the full knowledge that you are making it difficult for other people and accept the inevitable flack as a price to pay for your freedom of choice.
Written by Andy(ArT)Trigg on May 4th, 2008 with 1 comment.
Read more articles on Other interesting & useful things.
We entered the pet shop having decided to buy a cat, and came out with a dog. Don’t ask me what happened it was a long time ago. She was mostly, but not entirely, border collie. She had a beautiful coat which was black, white, brown and grey, a really cute face and a price tag of just £6.00. We named her Lassie, and to this day, I can’t believe I was so unimaginative as to call her that.
Although it never entered our heads at the time, we were selfish and wrong to have bought a pet because we both worked full time. Lassie was left on her own all day and out of sheer boredom and frustration she gnawed through the table and chair legs. She also managed to chew the corner of the wall through to the brick. Later though, she would have several years where she wasn’t alone as my wife left work to bring up two children.
Bedroom antics
Lassie always slept in the bedroom with us. We started off with good intentions though. We were advised that leaving her downstairs was best, and that at first she’d cry and whimper but if we were firm she’d quickly get used to it. However, on the first night we laid awake in bed for hours listening to her whimpering and barking in a high pitched voice. Eventually I relented and went downstairs to sort her out only to find her jammed behind the fridge.
I brought her upstairs and from then on she slept in our bedroom. As soon as she was big enough to jump on the bed she’d usually end up sleeping in between our legs at the bottom of it. When my wife got up in the morning I’d say, “come on Lass”, and she’d get inside the bed with me and I’d cover her over with the sheets. She was an extremely clean dog and never once even had fleas. I put this down to the fact that she didn’t have many walks and never ever roamed around outside. Often I’d get right under the covers and shout her and she’d jump on the bed and go mental trying to bite me. I’d scream and giggle and she’d dig away frantically trying to uncover me threatening to shred the duvet. It was great fun that - for us both.
As she got much bigger I’d often wake up in the night unable to move my legs because of her weight and had to kick her off the bed. At first she’d simply jump straight back on and I’d kick her off several times before she’d give up. Even when she accepted the floor after a few times she’d always be back between my feet when I woke up in the morning. It took several months before she finally got the message and started staying in her basket.
Walkies
I was always reluctant to take her for proper walks and it wasn’t long before Lassie had to get used to just being let out the back for 10 minutes in a morning and evening for much of the time. She never really knew much different and to her, it was normal. Most dogs get excited at the word “walkies”, but my dog got turned on by the word, “out”. I did used to take her on proper walks in the park sometimes and used this word to trick her many times when she wouldn’t come back to me. I’d simply shout to her, “do you want to go out Lassie?” and she’d fall for it every time. She’d come bounding back all excited and I’d put the lead on her. I always thought it was so funny.
Nightime farce - Doing the business
The irony about not taking her for proper walks was that the hassle I had by letting her out into the back garden, especially in winter, was much worse. If it was raining or snowing she’d faff about so much instead of just getting on with her business that I’d be seething (and usually freezing). I had to watch her because she’d often come back in without doing anything and get me up in the middle of the night.
Eventually I’d start shouting at her to get on with it and she’d get the face on and come trotting back with her ears down and her tail between her legs. I’d then shout at her some more and send her back where the whole cycle would repeat itself. She’d sniff round and round looking for the perfect spot before squatting momentarily and deciding it didn’t quite feel right. Eventually, when she finally decided to go for it I was sometimes elated to the extent of shouting, “yes” and punching the air. I had to whisper it though because any noise, a rustle of leaves, a car door - anything, would put her off and she’d come trotting back wanting to come inside.
Many times I just gave up and let her back in or couldn’t be sure if she’d done anything. Then I’d get my just deserts and suffer the consequences in the middle of the night. She’d always come over to my side of the bed and sit staring at me. She could wake me up with that stare. I could feel her breath on my face if I was facing that way and would ignore her or shout at her. Then she’d start crying and whimpering and pawing the bed until eventually I’d storm out of bed and had to stand freezing and naked at the back door while she rushed out and did the deed quicker than you could say, “stupid dog”. Ah well - it was me that was stupid not her.
Play fights
I did used to play with her a lot and we used to get very boisterous. We both loved play fighting, and she would tear around the room tucking her bum and tail behind as I chased after her. When I caught her I’d be pretty rough with her but she loved it. I’d get her on her back and trap her between by knees as I knelt over her (yes this is still the dog I’m talking about). Then as she growled and barked and snapped at me I’d play slap her snout with both hands before she’d break free. Then she’d tear round and round the table pulling big threads in the carpet with her claws until she came back close enough for me to grab her again.
We both loved playing this game and it gave her plenty of exercise as she was always totally knackered afterwards. “That’s enough now Lass”, I’d say, and she knew playtime was over. I’d then be gentle with her and cradle her in my arms like a baby sometimes or just rub her head like a father might rough up his son’s hair in a manly, friendly way. Lassie lost out a lot when we had proper children later.
Dog gymnastics
Lassie was always the type of dog that would never let you have anything back once she got her mouth round it, and when I used to throw sticks for her I would grab the stick that was clamped firmly in her mouth and lift her up with it. Then I’d swing her round my head a few times and release her like an Olympic hammer thrower. She’d land sometimes 15 feet away having turned in mid air almost 360 degrees. Sometimes she’d land on her feet and other times she’d roll over several times but she’d always come bounding back for more. I was pretty good doing it without ever hurting her. We would have done very well if I’d ever come across an appropriate competition to showcase our skills in.
Sheepdog instincts - wouldn’t let me leave home
As a non-pedigree dog she was extremely healthy and didn’t suffer from any health problems. The only negative inheritance she had was the herding instinct of a Border Collie. This meant she drove us mad by going crazy every time someone tried to leave the house. As she got older, this behaviour become so bad that I’d get really angry with her and the whole issue of anyone (but especially me) leaving the house became a nightmare.
As a result of my poor handling of the situation I used to get aggressive with her and it reached the stage where we both become conditioned to expect that whenever I left the house there was going to be a battle. As soon as she heard the door opening or me shouting “bye”, she’d hurtle towards me like a possessed demon barking and snarling. I’d then sword fight her with my foot and I eventually started to just lose my temper and kick her back as she attacked my foot.
Gang raped
I’ll always remember the time when she was on heat and I let her outside one snowy Sunday morning. I forgot all about her until I heard a stifled bark about fifteen minutes later. I looked outside to see her being gang-raped by three dogs. There was blood all over the snow and as I opened the door she looked at me so helplessly. I’ll never forget that look she gave me and how distressed she was.
Twilight years. The end
By the time she’d reached the age of 16 our relationship had deteriorated and we’d come to see her mostly as a nuisance. She was almost blind and kept walking into things. The mess and smell that often greeted us when we came back was horrendous at times. She had minor fits, which were distressing to see as she’d all of a sudden just drop to the floor as if electrocuted and get straight back up looking totally bewildered. I’d stroke her and she’d sit by my side. After several visits to the vet I had to make that inevitable decision to have her put down, and took her by myself.
In the waiting room she tried to jump up on my knee as she always did, and I helped her up. People commented on what a beautiful dog she was as people often did, which didn’t help. The vet was sympathetic and gave her the injection as I held her. He asked if I wanted to stay with her and then showed us into a side room and left us together. I gently stroked her and talked reassuringly to her occasionally until she drifted effortlessly into sleep. I felt strange, almost detached, refusing to allow myself to take in the finality of the situation.
I got up from the floor and without looking back I let myself out and back into the waiting room. I know it was full of people and pets but I saw no one. I approached the receptionist and was presented with a bill. I then had to write out a cheque to pay for the service I’d just received, which I found bizarre and surreal. It made the experience seem so clinical and business like and I feel that sort of thing you should be billed for later.
I drove home and sat alone in the empty house, which was now free from Lassie’s inconvenient presence and did nothing. Every so often I fought back tears and emotions that insisted on trying to escape but I fought them back and won each time. I used to be good at that. I wasn’t such a good dog owner though, I could have treated her much better.
Written by Andy(ArT)Trigg on May 4th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Thoughts & waffling.
Me and my brother had a fascination with fire when we were young, and both managed to set a house on fire. Steve did the first one when we were about 6 and 4 respectively. One of my earliest memories is of a fireman patiently questioning us both after our Oak Street house was rendered uninhabitable.
The fireman, inspired by a passing ice cream van’s tune, promised to buy us both an ice cream if Steve told him what had happened. I remember being very angry when he kept silent. It later turned out he’d been bouncing up and down on the bed lighting matches and tossing them away.
The second fire was caused by me in the next house, when I was about 9. I used to love lighting the gas under the chip pan or frying pan, which were usually caked in solidified lard. I especially liked to doodle in it with a knife prior to watching it slowly melt under the flame. On this occasion I was multitasking by making myself some toast under the grill whilst writing my name in the lard as it slowly melted. Later I was sat in the room eating my toast when the chip pan caught fire gutting the kitchen. We were thrust out on the front garden in our pyjamas and the fire engines returned.
Staying with fires, I had another go at burning the kitchen down at the next house (we moved a lot) I was about 10. My brother, a friend and I were into conkers. We’d heard that baking a conker toughened them up and made them into champions. So there we were in the kitchen, with a mind to creating some winners. I decided it would be quicker to fry them and popped half a dozen in the frying pan. The frying pan seemed to always be on call, larded up, on the cooker. After the lard melted I was dissatisfied by the fact the conkers were being toughened up only at the bottom as they were only sitting in it and not completely covered. Totally inexperienced in chemical reactions and boiling point temperatures, I was shocked at the spontaneous combustion caused when I topped up the melted fat with water from the kettle. On this occasion we all ran out and took refuge in the woods. When we returned, dad had contained the blaze and no fire engines had been required - however, a thrashing was apparently necessary.
Some months later, whilst at the same house, Steve and me made a nice fire round the back of a local garage in an oil drum one evening. This was in the days when garages often closed at night. We kept it going for ages with anything we could find. Fire is fascinating - and so warm. One of the objects tossed in for good measure was an aerosol can. When it exploded, it was just as I was peering inside, and fortunately, it only blackened me face.
At the next house we had an outside toilet in the back yard and in winter I would light a rolled up newspaper and run out with the flaming torch when I needed “to go”. I kept warm while sat there by feeding the fire with toilet paper. I never had an incident there but it was quite enjoyable.
One November I was down in the cellar with a friend when we decided to set off some fireworks we’d got our hands on by doing the penny for the guy thing. I placed the first one on the floor, which was one of those fountain-types shaped like a pyramid. When it went off in the confined space we had to leg it when we were engulfed in choking smoke. Mum was washing the pots at the time upstairs and witnessed a massive gulf of thick white smoke bellowing from the cellar grate. I doubt she was even really surprised any more.
Over the years our fascination with “man’s red fire” slowly dwindled like the embers of a right good bonfire. Apart from an incident where my brother was reported to the police for lighting small fires on wasteland I can’t remember any other problems. We have to count ourselves lucky nothing serious happened - apart from burning down a house and a kitchen of course.
Written by Andy(ArT)Trigg on May 4th, 2008 with no comments.
Read more articles on Thoughts & waffling.
All work © Copyright Andy(ArT)Trigg 2007 - 2008: Feel free to quote but please link to the source.
