It seems the modern bible is a Nasty Namby Pamby Liberal construct

LOL this is priceless... and was passed to me by someone who thinks it is a "good" idea and loudly applauds it. I was [thankfully] speechless when he told me because I would have been very very rude had I actually read it at the time he told me about it.

The link I got is here ... however in synopsis

.. As of 2009, there is no fully conservative translation of the Bible which satisfies the following ten guidelines:^[2]

1. Framework against Liberal Bias: providing a strong framework that enables a thought-for-thought translation without corruption by liberal bias
2. Not Emasculated: avoiding unisex, "gender inclusive" language, and other feminist distortions; preserve many references to the unborn child (the NIV deletes these)
3. Not Dumbed Down: not dumbing down the reading level, or diluting the intellectual force and logic of Christianity; the NIV is written at only the 7th grade level^[3]
4. Utilize Powerful Conservative Terms: using powerful new conservative terms to capture better the original intent;^[4] Defective translations use the word "comrade" three times as often as "volunteer"; similarly, updating words that have a change in meaning, such as "word", "peace", and "miracle".
5. Combat Harmful Addiction: combating addiction^[5] by using modern terms for it, such as "gamble" rather than "cast lots";^[6] using modern political terms, such as "register" rather than "enroll" for the census
6. Accept the Logic of Hell: applying logic with its full force and effect, as in not denying or downplaying the very real existence of Hell or the Devil.
7. Express Free Market Parables; explaining the numerous economic parables with their full free-market meaning
8. Exclude Later-Inserted Inauthentic Passages: excluding the interpolated passages that liberals commonly put their own spin on, such as the adulteress story
9. Credit Open-Mindedness of Disciples: crediting open-mindedness, often found in youngsters like the eyewitnesses Mark and John, the authors of two of the Gospels
10. Prefer Conciseness over Liberal Wordiness: preferring conciseness to the liberal style of high word-to-substance ratio; avoid compound negatives and unnecessary ambiguities; prefer concise, consistent use of the word "Lord" rather than "Jehovah" or "Yahweh" or "Lord God."

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL... Free Market Parables..makes me think ...todays reading is from the Book of Friedman Chaper 2.

Yea Verify .. and the Lord was asked by a grower of Peas ..."Rabbi the Romans doth want to extract a levy on the benefit I get when I put Donkey Poo on my Peas where for should I do?" and the lord answered thus 
"My son a free market describes a market without econmic intervention and regulation by governement except to regulate again force or fraud. The Romans being foreginers and slow on the uptake could not find their arses with both hands, 10 slaves and a scroll, but for now sucketh it up and give them their due, for come the reagan administration they will be first against the wall"

The SI unit for cock

In our GONADly deliberations at the annual bacchanalian debauch Mr Mooney and I discussed the design and production of a device that will bring world peace, end poverty and solve all the problems people have with Vista ... "The Cockometer" (pronounced Cock-om-eater not Cock-O-meter)

However in hindsight we may have been premature because I have contacted NIST and they even came in on Xmas Eve to check for me but there is no SI unit forus to measure Cock on the Cockometer. They did suggest that we could have a derived definition for the "Unit of Cock" which is now officially "The Cock" and they provided this useful table for the Cockometric Spectrum complete with examples for calibration

10 to the 24 is a Yottacock - this is reserved for Scientologist meetings and General Tom Cruise-iness
10 to the 21 is a Zettacock - any group of more than 1 politician
10 to the 18 is a Exacock - Chris Martin
10 to the 15 is a Petacock - Bill Gate's Sweater Purchasing Department
10 to the 12 is a Teracock - a coven of sharepoint developers
10 to the 9 is a Gigacock - Robert Scoble
10 to the 6 is a Megacock - The guy who thought vista was a good idea
10 to the 3 is a Kilocock - A group of cornered Java Developers
10 to the 2 is a Hectocock - People who drive Audi's
10 to the 1 is a Deka Cock - Normal Background level of Cockiness
10 to the -1 is a Decicock - Normal Background of Cockiness
10 to the -2 is a Centicock - 4 Notesians only one of which is an Admin
10 to the -3 is a Millicock - 10 Notesians (5 Devs and 5 Admins)
10 to the -6 is a Microcock- 100 Notesians (All Devs)
10 to the -9 is a Nanocock - Worst Practises Session at LS
10 to the -12 is a Picocock - Any conversation about Bikes or Beer
10 to the -15 is a Femtocock - the average level of cock at the bar in ILUG @ 7pm
10 to the -18 is a Attocock - the average level of cock at the bar in ILUG @ closing time
10 to the -21 is a Zeptocock - One of the Marx Brothers
10 to the -24 is a Yoctocock - The amount of cock on the moon (between manned landings)

OK now we have an agreed spectrum of Cock we can look at what colour the gauges should be...
Hmmmmmmm

SHOCK!!!! HORROR!!!! REVELATION!!! Bill Buchan is Welsh and NI Toy Tractor Collectors go mad for Billy Ray Sirus and chicken curry

As I mentioned in the last post Bill Buchan PDF (Portly Domino Fellow) and fellow GONAD came to DYM's stomping ground in the frozen foggy tundra of North Derry. I recommended he stay in the Magherabouy Hotel, Portrush a hotel used by my company when we have folk visiting from the 4 corners of the coorporation. It is a nice wee hotel, free WiFi, decent beer in the bar and a rather nice view out over the Atlantic when not shrouded in freezing fog!

When I wandered out to the hotel on friday evening for some pre geek beer, I was rather surprised to find the hotel HEAVING with people, anoraked people all clutching toy tractors. 1:32 scale models of John Deere, Massey Ferguson, Fords and Izuzu's tractorial goodness were seen in large numbers and the dull rumble of half heard conversation in the bar was of die cast representation of Powertrain Doobries and the relative horsepower of whatever was considered the "ferrari" of the tractor world. There even was a martial dispute behind me over the fact that "she" couldnt get an iPhone because "he" had spent all their money on a 1956 Dinky Massey Ferguson 350 "still boxed" in immaculate condition. I felt she was making a fair point but as a Blackberry chappy I felt it was not my place to comment.

Bill arrived in good time and we had a few beers with the good people of "The Northern Ireland Toy Tractor Collectors Christmas Party and Curry Night" (F**K you couldn't make something like this up, I live a weird life that surprises even me from time to time) It soon became clear that they had organised a full evening of entertainment and had not cut back on the expenses in this credit crunchie time for they had both Country AND Western music!

Now Bill and I both possess savage, uncultured souls and our ears are not tuned correctly to appreicate the the delights of Billy Ray Sirus, Setsons and going YeeHA! Rather than spoil the tractor-o-phile's evening by singing along with "Achie Breakie Heart" we departed in a taxi for the throbing heart of Portrush.

Now I have long held the view that the Harbour Bar is up there with Sloppy Joes in Key West as a bar you HAVE to do before you die. They tried to change it a decade ago but there was such a public outcry that the pub has been left alone, although there is a fine bistro behind it and you no longer have to go outside to pee on a wall. (Well you had to pee on a wall if you where a chap, lassies I am reliably informed had normal sit-upon thrones) Basically the Harbour Bar has "character" lots and lots and lots of character which when combined with lashings of Guinness, Black Bush and the odd song equates to Craic in abundance.

I delivered Bill back to his hotel at midnight were the Toy Tractor Liberation Army had consumed their chicken curries and line danced themselves into a disel powered stupor. We had a wee whiskey and had an early and sober - ish night. Well i was in bed before 1am and I managed the stairs which for me is a symptom of sobriety.

Saturday arrived frosty and foggy and Bill did his geek stuff which he posted about here and after a quicky spot of retail therapy we repaired to the Harbour Bar Bistro for a spot of grub.
Mr Buchan was instroduced to CHAMP one of the 1001 things Irish people do with potatoes
and was scared shitless by the cheesecake, which initially he felt he was morally obliged to try but when push came to shove he decided that a Harbour Bar Cheesecake was a delight best left for another occasion.

Having satisfied our calorific requirements for the day, we repaired to the snug for more Guinness and Bushmils's. Beside a roaring fire we fell into the company to two lassies orginally from Glasgow or in their delightful patois "fray glazgay". Sensing a dialectic similarity they engaged us in conversation and rather worryingly assured me that Bill was infact Welsh. This was a startiling revelation as there were no sheep (either real or inflatory) in the vicinity of Mr Buchan and his usual dulcet tones hinted broadly of kilts, shortbread and skirl of the pipes (Bagpipes that is .. not the plumbing). They were "waking" an absent friend and had perhaps consumned a wee bit too much funerial punch which goes some way to explain their inability to correctly pin the sporran on a highlander ... metaphorically.

Our slightly sozzeled comapanions departed in search of champagne and were replaced in short order by The London Irish Veteran's Rugby Team and the birthday celebrations of a lassie called Wendy, whose daughter Laura had the voice of an angel and really really really needs someone to sign her up for a recording contract!

The Rugby chaps, having beaten Ballymoney's finest were in fine fettle and treated us to rousing renditions of "Four and twenty virgins came down from Inverness" and "Father Chistmas do not Touch Me" It has to be said that these songs that require no great skill to sing but they do need nerves of steel to listen to. The birthday party responsed with a medelly of Queen's greatest hits, American Pie (who was that... Don McLean??) some Abba and a dash of Muppets

Not to outdone it was decided that Notes World would be represented by Mr Buchan who gave a resounding and well received rendidtion of My Brother Bill - The Fireman Song. Much cheering ensued both because I had not joined in and caused people's ears to bleed and the fact that mr Buchan IS the lost celtic tenor!

Several Irish traditional songs were then sung, accapella , by Laura, the pub (and it was crammed to the rafters with revellers) was suddenly quiet and grown men were seen to weep! She really did have the voice of an angel!

The evening closed at 2am with demands that Bill sing again, and this time on bended knee Mr Buchan and myself seranaded the birthday girl with a rousing chorus of "happy birthday". People had consumed enough alcohol to blunt the effects my voice usually has, although the bar staff had to hide behind several full barrels of Gunniess and cover their ears.

I must have got home because I woke up in my own bed....although the details are some what hazy.

So all in all another unexceptional weekend in Northern Ireland ;-)

ohhhh and remember it is considered rude to hang your sporran on an Elks Antlers without asking