My life has been a roller-coaster and no mistake. Its all been downhill for too long though, time to do something about that.
"Say hello to my little friend..."
As a child I was bullied by my peers and ignored by my parents, my father being the worst of the lot until my mother finally managed to get us all away from him. I spent my childhood in a tiny rural English village that is frequented by royalty being the home of international Polo in the UK. Among a group of privileged youngsters I got to goal-judge and score for the rich and powerful as they played, and hung around the stables and the functions. Seemed pretty normal to me, some kids had a paper round to make some pocket money, and Royalty has always done as it pleases... So, despite wanting none of that world for myself I was already outside the working-class background I come from, and as a result didnt have many friends either. So I hid in the library and the computer room, or roamed the local countryside the rest of the time, and nobody paid attention to my dreams, not even me.
I was told not to dream, punished for not learning quickly enough and told I was useless so by the time my exams came around I just didnt bother revising, and left school to be a groundskeeper at a local hospital before I'd even passed them all with flying colours. Computers absorbed most of my free time and I didnt mind grubbing in the dirt for my keep and chasing student nurses around the accommodation.
Recreational drugs, alcohol, motorbikes, heavy metal and a series of jobs ranging from horticulture to heavy industry followed that, until I decided to see the world and find myself, and trampled back and forth all over Europe for a few months until the Wall fell. I was in Cologne, and I really wanted a piece, but I couldnt even get near it so I went back home to Blighty and wound up homeless, where I met the kids mum... That story is an epic in itself, but skipping over it just leads me to creating BLAIR, AIME and the other robots that I dreamed about as a child, and our government kindly destroyed and are preventing me from developing even today.
For what reason I cannot discern, but there must be deeper reasoning than just using me as free care for Bea because they dont get a penny from what I do.
This is the purpose of Obsidian, to hack a decent life for me an Bea out of MorningStar without putting her in care or me dying homeless and penniless, too old to care for Bea or work, and without a pension or savings - which is what the f*ing Tories have in store for me when I'm done.
I'm not down with that, I think I've got a lot more to give the planet before I'm gone for starters, and there is a sense of injustice to it even if I didnt. There's a lot more to a human being than being human, and that's all I've ever tried to do. Our so-called leaders should learn this.
If you have a suggestion or a criticism, this is the place for it. Ironically, I am the one thing I can claim very little expertise in. ;-)
I may have mentioned this before, but if this were a game of chess by now I've taken just about every [worthwhile] piece on the damn board. Except the King, who continues to dodge about and somehow impudently evade capture.
This is childish, an opponent with any honour or even decency would at least surrender. Its not like I gave them a choice though. Queen and Rook, all other pieces expendable except the pawns. Its a strategy they dont understand because to them the pawns are but pawns.
You cant play chess without all the pieces, they are just as important as each other.
Well, its been an interesting week if nothing else. I know its been a while since I posted, but to be honest what has happened has happened too fast and has been rather too dirty for me to soil this with.
So, I managed to convince Igor that I wasnt screwing around and actually meant business. He has an effective tentacle shield, some kind of repellant that has so far evaded every attempt to maintain a purchase on his neck for more than a moment. Nightmare... Anyway I finally managed to get him to organise a meeting with the various players in our little game - a historic moment as never before has a member of the public managed to convene with this many departments at once to resolve an issue like this in or out of court.
Actually, it wasnt so much him that organised it, I did, and then told him to do it in no uncertain terms. He thanked me for that, as he was having no luck with Arun District Council, the Black King. Well I phoned em up and gave em both barrels until they capitulated and agreed to meet with Social Services and discuss a way forward. These are the scheming shits who owe me 14 grand, and are still pursuing the ruse that I have to pay a shortfall by regulation. Everyone else says BS, but the council, well.
Unfortunately they slept on it, and then phoned up the housing agent and lied through their teeth to them off the record, and then refused to attend. Unbelievable bullshit... This leaves me in the position of owing the agency half a grand for, and having to pay the shortfall or be kicked into the ditch. I still cant get legal aid, so I'm a bit fucked really. They did that to avoid lying on record in front of social services, and covertly called the agency.
There's reasons for this particular class of being. One of them is a permanent invulnerability unlike any ordinary enemy. You know, when you get *really* tired of some pestilence who's annoyed you, you open the console and nuke the fucker from orbit.
Well, Igor is impervious to everything I have.
Except the Morning.Star itself, which thus far hasnt actually done anything vaguely weaponlike at all actually. You know, you build a superweapon, you expect it to go bang or something. Leave a crater. Send off a few sparks or a bit of SFX fog.
Perhaps its waiting for something. Dont blame me, I only built the damn thing. ;-)
Well another thing a Nemesis is known to do besides cheerful imperviousness, is team up with his Nemesis to thwart a more powerful foe, and then slip away during the celebrations to haunt your history as a shadowy figure evermore.
Igor finally got it, and when I informed him I had finally tired of this nonsense, he leaped to my defence. Well thats a turn-up for the books, he's decided of his own volition that this latest manoeuver by the council was rather uncalled for, and indeed unsporting even to him, as a manager of one of the most despised organisations in our land, thats actually quite an accolade.
A tip of the hat to you Sir.
And I mean that, old Igor actually got quite colourful about my rights, in a flip-floppy sort of way, and pledged to help me get my moolah back as a matter of honour.
It might also have something to do with my army, composed of angry nerds, local law enforcement, the social care sector management, doctors, psychiatric specialists - Just last night I scored a police psychiatrist who heard of me through her grapevine, after the dumbass council called the police...
Igor and his associate visited my home, expecting to see carnage. Mess everywhere, cramped by piles of boxes, tools.
Its never tidy, no, I'm an inveterate tinkerer by nature.
I didnt make an effort, deliberately, I wanted him to see how I lived. Most people nervously gather all evidence of living and stuff it into cupboards, hoover, dust, polish, put on their Sunday Best for a visit from the Social. A hair out of place and they'll blow that up to neglect.
He seemed amused, and his only comment on the subject was that I make good use of our living space.
Well, I decided not to mention the covenants on the tenancy that prevent me from even putting up pictures on the walls - posters, fine, its not the decor but the integrity of the plaster - so cable runs, hardware on the walls and ceilings for home automation, security, etc, were out.
Basically, they had a cuppa, looked around for something to criticise and then buggered off when all they got was an extremely unapologetic MorningStar. I wasnt unpleasant, and I managed to keep my cool. But their position is the same, and they arent going budge an inch from it without jurisdiction, no further comment.
He didnt even apologise for being a dick to me himself over the last couple of years trying to stop me from finding out about the money, just reiterated that he wasnt going to help me get it back.
I just shrugged; I wasnt going to waste any more energy on the idiots.
In the meantime, I contacted the Citizens Advice Bureau, which took a few days to get through as the lines are jammed. Finally, I explained my situation and asked for the Law Clinic, and the clerk wrote up what I told her and took my details. Well yesterday I had a phonecall to tell me there was a massive backlog, and I'd be better off going to another office and waiting to be seen and interviewed in person - otherwise it would be three weeks before I even get the ear of a solicitor for half hour, and be advised to find someone else to represent me in court.
I have to do this, or the Law Society will make me do it before helping me anyway.
They literally asked for this. I shall give it to them.
Bear in mind that you guys are used to me by now, these poor fuckers live in a world of order where information flow is tightly controlled. They've probably never heard of me like most average people, and why would they?
I'm such a nerd... XD
In my experience most suffer disbelief when confronted by me in my lair, where I can prove my claims at the touch of a button, flick of a string, stroke of a brush, scratch of a whiteboard, demonstration of any of my skills, the list has grown extensive and impressive enough even I fear my capabilities.
One day I will write about this properly, I promise.
But for now I have our social care system literally in the coil of a tentacle [and its lord and master, Social Services, in a double armlock with the rest].
I even have one spare to rifle their pocketses with. I'm getting my Moolah back, all of it, and compensation. And Bea some, and proper one-one care without me doing it or having to micromanage it on benefits.
Which frankly is just insulting of course, never mind who I am and what I can do.
Speaking of which, anyone with mortal tendencies might want to pay attention to the Safety Radius of which my friends are aware and my neighbours are finding out about.
Its not like I dont wear warning colours.
I havent changed much in the last 20 years. Superficially or internally come to that. Same person wanders around in my skull today as was born here, I've just picked up a lot of experience not many get the opportunity to ever witness. Thats a privilege.
I've also been given the opportunity to effect change in our geopolitical systems. Thats a duty. My whole life has been leading up to something big, and it looks like my destiny has caught up with me at last.
Social Services, County and District Councils... SoH Hutlh batlh.
You have disgraced yourselves. Stand before your masters and be judged.
I had to pop out for supplies, and found this on my doorstep.
I hate to disappoint, but thats clearly not made for a Leviathon. There's no-where near enough tentacle holes...
On Stratagem, Sun Tzu wrote that the best strategy was to take the enemy whole and intact; to shatter and destroy him leaves you no victory. So, it is better to capture an entire army, an entire regiment, detachment or company than slaughter it.
Yeah. I've taken a County Council, a District Council, two Parish Councils, Social Services, National Health Service, local Law Enforcement and a gnarly population of townsfolk who thought I was going to hack them. Or something.
Hence, absolute victory in all battles is not excellence, supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy without fighting.
Several world records, a slew of awards and distinctions, outstanding performance and a sense of humour trumps bullshit every time. The enemy is careless and bloated...
Thus the highest form of generalship is to balk the enemy's plans
Every time XD
Next is to prevent the junction of the enemy's forces
Divide and Conquer. Bait and Switch. They never knew what hit them until it was too late.
Not much I can do about an Ivory Tower I have to say.
Therefore a skillful leader knows to subdue enemy troops without fighting, captures cities without siege, overthrows kingdoms without lengthy and expensive operations in the field;
There are 5 essentials for victory
He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight
He will win who knows how to handle both superior and inferior forces.
He will win whose army is animated by the same spirit throughout all its ranks.
He will win who, prepared himself, waits to take the enemy unprepared.
He will win who has military capacity and is not interfered with by the sovereign.
Well, one thing I did discover today, after calling the department attempting to defraud me, is this. The regulations were changed two years ago so that everybody contributes to Council Tax irrespectively which reduces the burden on those who pay.
This is fair enough I suppose, and it is regulation, so they are within their rights to chase me.
So, I've set up instalments to repay this small debt even though that same department owes me a *lot* more. Compromise is victory when one is losing... ;-)
It was an interesting discussion all the same, and the guy I spoke to inadvertently confirmed the regulations re rent and didnt lie to me about them. This is a win; internally they now recognise that the game is up.
Hence the saying:
If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.
If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat.
If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.
They have never known me very well it has to be said. :-D
Sun Tzu also said
Never engage an enemy more powerful than yourself. If you must engage an enemy more powerful, engage him on your own terms.
Wise words indeed, still true over two thousand years later, dealing with an administration.
And, finally this morning, I had a phonecall from Social Services who have arranged a meeting on Thursday at my home to resolve these issues out of court.
Typically they sent me this in the Friday post so I got it Saturday morning. Its a habit of theirs, being the antisocial bastards they are. I have had many run-ins with this department over the last few years over benefits and rights, and they have stuck to their guns sacrificing their desk staff to the weight of logic and evidence.
And me of course.
I can get quite truculent with self-important officials, especially those who simply stick to the party line even when presented with their own ass on a plate:
Why is my daughter classed as non-dependent when clearly she is dependent?
Even Igor ruminated this was strange, but regulations are what they are. I remember clearly, its doubtful he does. One of many lies...
14 again. These events kicked off in 2014. What is it with that number? It devolves numerically to 5 (1+4), the same number of years now I've been fighting this, after 14 years raising my children alone.
Yep. Yesterday was the 25th May, the anniversary of the day I signed the tenancy of the house the kids grew up in. Where I learned to hack, where I built AIME and where I discovered myself. Its kind of a birthday - not that I observe it because it upsets me - and I could have done without the fucking council choosing that day of all to land it on me.
Cheers Arun District Council; you're off my Christmas Card List too, you dirty counts.
Its now also the anniversary of my enslavement, and worse, I've been charged 14 grand for the privilege. And now they wish to drag me in front of a magistrate and tax me against regulations in a futile attempt to disguise it.
No human language can render the emotion. I literally do not have any coherent words that come close. I do have a few that emit smoke and sparks and make mortals crap themselves and call the authorities tho.
"Haelp, Haelp! There's a Monstar!"
"Yes Love, try not to piss it off. Really."
I grow weary of this...
A thought just crossed my mind, for those of you who are still wondering why I am pissed off.
Even if I do manage to get what I am owed, and especially if I get compensation too, benefits rules mean that with capital in the bank I am not entitled to benefits.
In other words, I will have to live on the money as income, and care for Bea using it until it is gone, when I reapply for benefits. The entire time I will be unable to work, still enslaved as a carer. The faster I spend it, the faster I reapply.
I am placed under covenants with my tenancy that prevent me from running a business, keeping business vehicles or resources on the property so I cannot even work my way out fairly through self-employment.
Logic dictates I take as much money as I can and get the hack out of Dodge, begin a new life where I'll never have to give it back to the Counts.
Apparently I'm a celebrity now. I'm not keen on it as it means I dont belong to me or Bea any more, I belong to my adoring fans. Except for my ass, which belongs to my critics.
Anyway, the Counts arent having it. Like the rest of me its in great condition. ;-p
Blowing a raspberry, strawberry or making a Bronx cheer, is to make a noise that may signify derision, real or feigned. It may also be used in childhood phonemic play either solely by the child or by adults towards a child to encourage imitation to the delight of both parties. It is made by placing the tongue between the lips and blowing to produce a sound similar to flatulence. In the terminology of phonetics, this sound has been described as a voicelesslinguolabialtrill, and as a buccal interdental trill.
A raspberry is never used in human language phonemically (that is, as a building block of words), but it is widely used across human cultures.
The nomenclature varies by country. In most anglophone countries, it is known as a raspberry, which is attested from at least 1890, and which in the United States came to be abbreviated as razz by 1919. In the United States it has also been called a Bronx cheer since at least 1929.
Blowing a "raspberry" derives from the Cockney rhyming slang "raspberry tart" for "fart". Rhyming slang was particularly used in British comedy to refer to things that would be unacceptable to a polite audience.
"Raspberry" was also given the pronunciation spelling "razzberry" in the US, of which "razz" is an abbreviation.
The V Sign, Forks or Two-Fingered Salute...
The first contemporary evidence of the use of the insulting V sign in the United Kingdom dates to 1901, when a worker outside Parkgate ironworks in Rotherham used the gesture (captured on the film) to indicate that he did not like being filmed.Peter Opie interviewed children in the 1950s and observed in The Lore and Language of Schoolchildren that the much-older thumbing of the nose (cocking a snook) had been replaced by the V sign as the most common insulting gesture used in the playground.
Between 1975 and 1977 a group of anthropologists including Desmond Morris studied the history and spread of European gestures and found the rude version of the V-sign to be basically unknown outside the British Isles. In his Gestures: Their Origins and Distribution, published in 1979, Morris discussed various possible origins of this sign but came to no definite conclusion:
because of the strong taboo associated with the gesture (its public use has often been heavily penalised). As a result, there is a tendency to shy away from discussing it in detail. It is "known to be dirty" and is passed on from generation to generation by people who simply accept it as a recognised obscenity without bothering to analyse it... Several of the rival claims are equally appealing. The truth is that we will probably never know...
So, I've written to the Law Society, who regulate the solicitors who are our advocates in our legal system.
Seeing as the government wishes to make me pay for advocacy to obtain money stolen from me by local authority and absolutely will not negotiate on this, I have no choice but to litigate by any means necessary.
Now its going to be interesting how this one pans out.
Well, of course I contacted her, she handed me this for my records.
Dont worry folks, nobody's being dragged out by the baileys and the locks changed, that would be completely illegal as I patiently explained to the bright young adviser sitting opposite me. Smart girl, she agreed completely and told me that in the eventuality of things ever getting that bad they would just apply to the local authority to house Bea [and her slave, as is the convention with the ruling classes] in any case long before it could happen.
I agreed that, under regulation, from the 18th of March, I owed them about half the sum they were asking and would have to recover the remainder from the council through normal channels.
Out came the regulations.
Now, it appears that under the regulations with Bea in the house and her on Disability Living Allowance [or PIP, that is replacing it] I should receive full housing benefit and not have to pay a shortfall in rent in any case. Well, that being the case I didnt owe them any money on technicality, and they would take this up with the council on my behalf as responsible social housing agents.
Was that a wink...
Well now, thats interesting, because for the entire duration of my caring for Bea in council properties, under the care of Social Services and advised by their advisers and for the last five years in collusion with the council and possibly others, I have paid just under 15 quid a week towards my rent under the false impression that it is regulation.
I mean, I queried it, why would Bea show up on the rent statement as a 'non-dependent deduction' in housing benefit? Clearly, she is dependent... And no, I have been told, its regulation.
Well, here I am sat in front of said bright young independent adviser with a vested interest in the case, and it dawns on me they've all been covering this up for five years because the council realised it made a mistake 19 years ago, and did so when Bea went into care. Then when she came home they silently reinstated the mistake so I would never know they actually owed me a lot of money.
Yes, 19 years times 14 pounds 21 pence every week comes to a significant total.
£14,039.48 to be precise.
The cheeky bastards know full well if I ever find out that not only have I not been paid to care for Bea all these years, in fact I've been charged that for it, I will hit the fucking roof.
I was remarkably calm, exiting the agency, after shaking the poor girl and her supervisors hands. Lord knows what she must have thought.