Bitch on the Blog

March 24, 2018

Alternative Comment Box, Finals … – Going Gently

Sorry about pauses in proceedings.

Sometimes I wish there were three of me. Don’t groan. It could be worse. Four of me. Hundreds, Thousands …

The only reason I wish I were more than one of me that I could delegate to my others. Delegate to my others to tidy all those loose ends I leave in my trail whilst trying to tend to the main business of my life.

This morning’s washing (black) coming out of the machine covered in tiny shreds of white tissue. I nearly lost the will to live. Then I remembered my mission in blog land; namely to support rhyme and reason, eradicate unfairness and instill justice. Not just on my behalf. I can live with shit – even John’s who can barely contain his.

Before I stop mentioning John by name (after all, he just stands for others with similar limitations), I won’t deny him the public glory of having excelled himself. To my dismay I  had, initially, not picked up a true morsel he served me up on a platter. You may remember my post “Inadequate” in which I ask about the morals of a man who applies double standards.

Casting my inner eye over most people in my life, not least some of my readers/commentators, I imagined their answers if I had laid such a serious question at their respective door steps. And what eloquent and reasoned replies I would have received. What does One John come up with? It was so thin, I nearly missed how thick it is: “No comments as per usual….go figure”.

You ask someone about their moral bankruptcy and all they are able to come back up with is “No comments as per usual….go figure”?

Yes, John, go figure.  Unlike you I don’t hone a herd of sycophants who comment even if they haven’t got anything to say; even if there is nothing to add.

Unlike you, and some of your circle, I do not make layman’s pronouncements (in absence of anything mildly original to say) on others’ mind, soul or inner workings. Without wishing to stretch the limitations of your brain power to bursting point:

What does that feeble “counter attack” (if you can call a lame response that) of yours say about you? That you are feeble?

Ok. Let’s, for sake of argument, say that you are feeble. In which case, dearest John, you will be so happy to hear that I only blame myself that I didn’t follow a hunch many moons ago that I was whiling time away in the wrong part of Wales. To no one’s benefit.

Read the last paragraph again (yes, I know, you claim you don’t read my posts any longer; pull the other one, John. You’d have to be super human not to; not least because you don’t rest in yourself but are totally dependent on anyone’s and your readers endorsement of you). I said “I only blame myself”. You see, John, that is self awareness. That is admitting that we have limitations. Mine being that I don’t recognize that gold nuggets are not to be found in a sand pit. I am tempted to go as far as apologizing that I mistook you for someone you are not.  You never claimed you are something you are not – so it sure ain’t your fault that I find you morally bankrupt.

To you it’s all black and white. Which, considering your surname is Gray, is almost tragic.







March 19, 2018



What to make of a man who makes a demand yet doesn’t act by his own code.


  • The Demand, nay the law as laid down by One John: namely that on his blog personal attacks are NOT allowed.

So far so fine. Reasonable, if only he were ABLE to distinguish what constitutes a questioning mind and what constitutes an attack.

Enter double standards. One for me. One for all his other readers.

Repeat: The question is what to make of a man who demands that no personal (perceived as) attacks are to be made in discussion among his readers; to then let stand the most astonishing personal attacks addressed at One Ursula as, and he excelled himself, this fine Monday morning. Every single reply of mine to those insults ranging from … to …, deleted. All personal attacks on me being let to stand. Enjoy.

To clarify once more and for the dense:  What I see as unfair and unjust is not so much that John deletes my comments. That’s by the by. The Sculptor and Rachel do so – out of an intense if somewhat irrational dislike for me. However, where John parts ways with both the Sculptor and Rachel that the two of them have the decency to strike me off as if I never commented. That’s ok.

However, One John, the Samaritan, does let my name stand in a rather empty wasteland stating “Deleted by blog administrator” giving the impression to all his other readers that I am a … please do choose choice words from a lavish selection this Monday morning and lunch time alone. These are mostly readers who don’t even know who I am, mud slingers, stirrers who take John’s word for what he tells them.

I am not interested in commentators/sheep blindly following the leader; I am questioning the ethics of a man who employs double standards. So, and sorry to hammer this home by way of repeat: He claims he doesn’t let personal attacks stand, yet lets personal attacks stand – as long as they are addressed at me.

What’s your take on what, to me, is incomprehensible, not to be justified, not anything other than a declaration of being morally bankrupt?


March 13, 2018

The Alternative Comment Box, 8 – Warm Up

Filed under: Communication — bitchontheblog @ 10:55
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You know what I like in a person, John? Be they, in no particular order, man, woman, child, dog, cat, even a worm?

Being consistent, true to their word. Obviously, the odd lapse allowing. Worms in the scheme of things being most reliable in their consistent worming.

You? You most certainly aren’t a worm by my definition. You have said (to me) on many occasions, repeatedly, again and again, something along the lines of  “no personal attacks” allowed on your blog. What a marvellous intent. Laudable. Let’s leave aside that a lot of mine you delete aren’t “personal attacks”. Not even attacks. Reason, rhyme. But, hey, let not stand anything you don’t like in the way of calling it a “personal attack”.

How come that you let EVERY single personal attack (by others and you) on ME, some of them vicious and unfounded, stand? Every single one, John. It’s quite fantastic. You fancy yourself as just, fair, and many other do goodery qualities. To break news, John, you most certainly are NOT fair or JUST. You are … never mind. I am angry this minute. Very. And therefore better watch what I am saying. Lest I might feel need to apologize later. Apologize? That isn’t in YOUR vocabulary, not in Ms Miserable Joy’s, not the Sculptor’s; Nick of no spine we may as well forget.

To top it all you now give random space to bloggers with no blog, trying to put me through the wringer. Remember, John, this post is about YOU saying NO PERSONAL ATTACKS. As good as your word, are you, John?

I am incensed at you, John. Why don’t you consult with the Sculptor, the one with a patent on humoUr, on the meaning of the BIG BRITISH sense of FAIR PLAY.  He may be rude, occasionally crude, he may be a one trick pony with his never ending lament that I don’t have a sense of humour, but – on the whole – I do think that his years of chiselling many a rock hasn’t eroded his intelligence entirely. If the Sculptor fails to give you a leg up, why not let Cro, who occasionally thinks me stupid but at least has the good grace of remaining the gentleman that he is, gently guide you in the direction of what constitutes FAIR PLAY.

Yes, fair play. How “fairly” you played Joy aka Rachel and me against each other. Her being totally oblivious as to my genuine intention toward her wellbeing when I emailed you, you lapping up all the cream and praise she heaped upon you at a moment of crisis. More on which I will address in a separate post to her.

You have a choice, John, considering that YOU keep asking  me to stop my Alternative Comment Box. If you need to know what that choice is … do ask. After all, as your commentators of no blog, springing out of nowhere like daffodils and rabbits in spring, keep saying: I enjoy nothing more than administering my sanctimonious lectures.


April 24, 2017

And then some

To keep you from your more urgent tasks in hand here is another one of those questions on ethics which plague me. And if I have mentioned this before (not that you’ll remember)  please put it down to my willingness to repeat myself.

So there you are. At the fresh fish counter. It’s all glistening, enticing, a cook’s dream. However, enter the unfortunate shopper (that’s me) who is also well informed about decimating stocks of various species in the oceans. Great. Now what?

I am not proud of myself which is, most likely, why I seek your thoughts yet fact is, I think to myself: “That particular fish is already DEAD. Why should I let it go to waste?” Yes, I say to the fish monger, pointing to my bounty, that’ll be lovely. Thank you. Have I just proven the law of supply and demand? Sugar. Nevertheless, the fish was ALREADY dead. Someone has to eat it.

Of course, one could spin this idea to the less savoury. Think Moby Dick, indeed any prolonged adventure at sea when the Vasco da Gamas and Columbuses of this world set sail to discover new lands and spices. There you are at sea. Since you are all already on the brink of death why prolong the agony by not eating your past-his-live-by mate? And what if you were vegetarian or vegan at sea? Yet hungry? Would you toss your principles overboard to stay alive? Actually, come to think of it – and I am a connoisseur of seafaring factual and fictional accounts – why do those who do resort to eat their own always go for the weedy first instead of the meatiest? Such a waste.


PS Please do note that I posed TWO questions/dilemmas (for the price of one post). No need to keep it short. Just pour yourself on this page. I will gnaw on any bone you throw me.

February 12, 2017

Hell, water and drowning

Just when you think yourself as snug as a bug in a hug with, more or less, all questions of ethics and their answers under the belt one sneaks up on you.

Holy cannoli – the noose tightens.

This, drawn to my attention a few minutes ago, is so awful I am in knots.

For sake of argument you have to assume you have more than one child. You find yourself at the mercy of the elements and you can only save ONE of your children. Which one would you save? This is so awful I can barely get my head round it. Naturally, as one does, I cast my eye back to my family of origin. Who would either of my parents of four have saved? I dare say, being quite a bit older than my siblings and therefore stronger, both my mother and my father would have left me to fend for myself. But that still leaves them with three to choose from. I’d rather not pursue this line of thought. It’s unsettling beyond belief. At least that’s tonight’s nightmare guaranteed. Not that members of my family normally play much of a role in my dreams.

Any crutches of your own thoughts on this truly horrendous scenario welcome.


August 26, 2016


Filed under: Despair,Errors,Ethics,Peace,Psychology — bitchontheblog @ 11:01
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I am incensed – for many reasons – about France’s burkini ban.

So we, in the sacred “WEST”, so concerned about women’s “rights”, come out and tell a woman what (not) to wear in public? Are people actually ticking alright? Four guys (police – law inforcers) standing around a woman on some beach making her take off clothes? In public? If this isn’t outrageous I don’t know what is.

It is violation. It’s indecent. It’s invasion of privacy.

Anyway, let me lighten up and reverse this. In the name of beauty, aesthetics and general psycho hygiene I’d like men AND women – particularly of the less than life enhancing bulk – to cover up. Don’t insult my senses. See how ridiculous this is? You can make up shit on any compost heap. Don’t let it stink out the place.


July 3, 2016

Valour and to debase

Picking a few of a plethora of notable quotes in the British press:

“The leave campaign is a revolution, and like all revolutions, it will eat its own.”

Maybe, though I think evoking the French Revolution’s big players is a little far fetched in the context of British politicians turning into Pinocchios, chameleons, piranhas, Judases, downright chancers and slime.  Leaving Jo Cox (England, shot 16 June 2016) aside, no one has yet been stabbed to death in the bath (reference Marat, Paris, July 1783).

“Democrats have no duty to endorse democracy’s every outcome.”

This one I love.  It’s an epiphany. Whoever wrote it I could kiss. Think about it: “Democrats have no duty to ENDORSE democracy’s EVERY outcome.”  Genius.

And then there is, the relatively harmless:

“People want to be lied to, Johnson. No, not Boris, 2016, who proved the point; the other one, Samuel, ca mid 17 hundreds, who made an observation.

I have a special relationship with lies/lying. I do concede that a white lie, in order to avert unnecessary harm and judiciously applied, does have its place in social relations. The blatant lie, the misleading, the blinding, the up and down the garden paths, the self serving, the coward’s way out? No. Not in my court. Which is not the same as saying that I don’t understand those who are trapped in a corner and make deals with the devil. It happens. And let no one cast the first or any stone.

Premeditated lying? There is no excuse for it. Even the most optimistic, “well meaning” and accomplished liar will have to accept that trust – once broken – is just that: Broken. Or in the words of Bertold Brecht, loosely translated: “The ends of a knot severed can be spliced together again but you won’t find me where you left me”. In other words: Rain doesn’t return whence it came from.


February 7, 2012

Black, white and grey pumpkins

Filed under: Ethics — bitchontheblog @ 18:26
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Every so often, recently, and for my sins, I will  find bloggers who will praise themselves on being the upsidedownstanding good citizens they are. No names mentioned: Those whom the shoe fits will wear it to the ball.

“Original” thinkers recommend to think OUTside the box. Well let THIS not so original thinker tell you: Forget the box. Just think. Thank you. And stop preening yourselves.

Much ado is made about lying – not least by me. I abhor lying. Let’s rephrase: I don’t take kindly to being lied to. However, needs must. So I have lied on others’ behalf – to save their bacon, when the lie amounted to nothing more than their peace/piece restored. In my experience no prison more punishing than that of our own conscience.

In the last four weeks I have lied twice, to two different people. They wanted to help someone. Every which way. They put themselves out. I left both in the belief that their good intentions had achieved what they wanted. What good would it have done to tell them that, in truth, their effort was wasted? None. Nothing but to disappoint THEM on top of everything else, compounding failure. Moral conundrum: Does “omission of facts” make me a liar or a samaritan, plain kind? Remember: Technically, I told a lie. No getting away from it. Not easy, is it, seeing the back of a coin that some of you are so eager to rub clean and shiny?

I won’t, though am,  succumb to peddling platitudes like pebbles in glass houses: There are many ways how to approach a hornets’ nest.

And then there is litter.

Hugs and kisses,


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