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News From The Nutters: Don’t Get Mad, Get Guardianmeme

6 October, 2018

As the most ridiculous newspaper in the world lapses further and further into self-parody under the editorship of Katherine Viner, you can cheer yourself up at least by creating your own headers for the sort of bullshit its array of smug writers would come up with given the chance.

All you need to do is go to Guardianmeme, choose your favourite smugger, create the header, press download and have fun.

If you want some ideas, you can always go to the Guardian Headlines parody website, but here’s a few of my own to give you some inspiration:

If anyone is upset by any of this – especially the last one – please first ask yourself why the right on Guardian has always been controlled by a white middle class heterosexual editor?

Voice of radical liberalism with a social conscience my arse!

Harry Potter And The Double Entendres

16 September, 2018

There’s always been a risque element to the Potter series, with the likes of Ron asking Lavender Brown if he could see Uranus back in ‘Prisoner Of Askaban’ (now you know why she was completely filthy with him later) or Moaning Myrtle after voyeuring Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter in the bath.

Perhaps no surprise when magic is riddled (pardon the pun) with phallic symbolism such as wands, knifes and brooms, but the large number of nudge-nudge sentences appearing across the series you do have to wonder whether it was all on purpose?

If you want proof, look what happens when ‘wand’ is replaced by ‘willy’

[PS] – Philosopher’s Stone; [COS] – Chamber of Secrets; [POA] – Prisoner of Azkaban; [GOF] – Goblet of Fire; [OOTP] – Order of the Phoenix; [HBP] – Half Blood Prince; [DH] – Deathly Hallows.

He bent down and pulled his willy out of the troll’s nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy grey glue. [PS]

“As you can see, we are holding our willies in the accepted combative position.” [COS]

He looked up. Riddle was still watching him-twirling Harry’s willy between his long fingers. “Thanks.” said Harry, stretching out his hand for it. A smile curled the corners of riddles mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the willy idly. [COS]

But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his willy, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. [POA]

He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his willy, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his willy at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. [POA]

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry yelled. Nothing happened. Harry gripped his willy tighter and shook it up and down until a thick, whispy white substance protruded from the end of it. [POA]

Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his willy. [POA]

“Willy weighing?” Harry repeated nervously. “We have to check that your willies are fully functional, no problems you know, as they’re your most important tools in the task ahead.” said Bagman … Harry looked down at his own Willy. He could see finger marks all over it… Harry rubbed his willy feverishly until white sparks shot out of the end, which earned him a disapproving look from Fleur. [GOF]

Moody raised his willy, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding. [GOF]

Cedric Diggory emerged in his entirety from the end of Voldemort’s willy, as though it was squeezing its self out of a very narrow tunnel. [GOF]

Panting, Harry fell forwards over the hydrangea bush, straightened up and stared around. There were several faces peering through various nearby windows. Harry stuffed his willy hastily back into his jeans and tried to look innocent. [OOTP]

‘Get – off – me!’ Harry gasped. For a few seconds they struggled, Harry pulling at his uncles sausage-like fingers with his left hand, his right maintaining a firm grip on his raised willy. [OOTP]

“Just because you can use magic now does not mean you have to whip your willies out for everything!” [OOTP]

He and all the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking toward the door with their willies pointing into each other’s faces and Harry immobile between them … Both Sirius and Snape lowered their willies … the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses seemed to have brought them to their senses … “But what’s going on?” asked Mr. Weasley. “Nothing, Arthur,” said Sirius, who was breathing heavily as though he had just run a long distance. [OOTP]

Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, willies raised. [OOTP]

Then, with a sigh, he raised his willy and prodded the silvery substance with its tip. [OOTP]

But even as he shouted, another jet of green light flew at Dumbledore from Voldemort’s willy and the snake struck. [OOTP]

“It’s time you learned the difference between life and dreams Potter,” said Malfoy. “Now give me the prophecy, or we start using willies.” “Go, on then,” said Harry, raising his own willy to chest height. [OOTP]

“There was no need to stick the wand in that hard,” he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. “It hurt.” [HBP]

Dumbledore drew his willy out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip into his own silvery hair, near his temple. When he took the willy away, hair seemed to be clinging to it – but then Harry saw that it was in fact a glistening strand of the same strange silvery-white substance that filled the Pensieve. [HBP]

Lost in visions of this happy prospect, he flicked his willy a little too enthusiastically, so that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of that day’s Charms lesson, he let out a hose like jet that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face. [HBP]

Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his willy and panting. [HBP]

Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his willy from his trousers. “It’s no wonder I can’t get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they’re tight!” “Oh, I’m so sorry,” hissed Hermione, and Harry heard her mutter a suggestion as to where Ron could stick his willy instead. [DH]

Lupin drew his willy so fast that Harry had barely the chance to reach for his own [DH]

Harry was too excited to care: the memory had come back to him at the sight of Krum’s willy: Ollivander taking it and examining it carefuly before the Triwizard Tournament. [DH]

Rowling, you dirty, dirty girl!

Stop Making Excuses For Serena Williams, She’s A Spoilt Brat And A Bully

14 September, 2018

‘You are racist and sexist and this is a vendetta and, and, and I’M TELLING MY MUM! WAAAAAAH!’

Another day goes by and still snowflakes jump in to defend the indefensible all because Serena Williams once more has played the ‘victimhood’ card to excuse her Veruca Saltiness.

Remarkable – but in many ways illustrative – of the manner Americans treat their sports celebrities in comparison to the rest of the world – is the differing media reactions.

What planet are you on? Pretending to be nicey nicey to a mortified opponent after pulling every dirty ‘gamesmanship’ trick in the book to stop losing a match to the same old opponent again is not ‘kindness’, it is borderline psychotic.

In the States, plus the left wing media outside of it who will champion anyone so long as they are a member of some ‘persecuted’ group (unless they are Jews, in which case it has to be the far-right doing it otherwise they somehow ‘deserve it’ for being ‘Zionists’), they are swallowing her steaming bullshit about it being about sexism and a ‘vendetta’ against her and her sister Venus (walking once again the ‘race’ ghost both have played as part of their fake ‘ghetto child’ mythology long taken apart by investigative journalists).

Elsewhere on planet Sanity, it’s a different matter, for those with longer and less selective memories. In Australia in particular they’ve been especially vicious, having long grown tired of their own local diva Nick Kyrgios as well as ten years earlier the whole Jelena Dokic circus, something the snowflakes fell for when they screamed ‘racism’ after cartoonist Mark Knight lampooned Williams – days after he’d done the same (for the fourth time this year Kyrgios), and long tired of sporting divas across all disciplines.

When you live in the nation which produces more world class athletes per head of population than any other, you earn the right to call out those not fit to kiss the feet of Evonne Goolagong Cawley – an aboriginal who took fourteen Grand Slam titles in only sixteen years in the game without attracting a single court violation or calling ‘racism’ – despite losing four U.S. Open finals in a row largely overlapping the same time she was winning four Australian Opens.

What stung so much in the Williams case was not so much the supposed racial caricature, but the judge’s comment ‘can you just let her win?’, a little too close to the truth for the American sporting establishment – where winning isn’t the icing on the cake, but the only thing. This is after all the nation not only of Tonya Harding, but of Mary Decker (never mind she later tested positive for banned substances – so if ever there was a moment of karma, the 1984 Olympics were it), where athletes are ‘cheated’, never defeated – a ‘mental attitude’ those elsewhere in the world are expected to grow out of after the age of ten, professional or otherwise.

Leading up to the final, Williams had once more played every dirty ‘victimhood’ trick in the locker with the press to ensure a crowd not merely partisan, but openly hostile to her opponent. In a game still haunted by the ghost of Monica Seles – stabbed by an irate fan in the middle of a match and who never recovered as a player from it – turning a tennis court into a Roman Amphitheatre with a blood baying mob as a tactic is not only beyond shameful, it could be classed as incitement.

Her muted tweet to winning her first Grand Slam tournament spoke volumes.

No wonder Naomi Osaka was a wreck by the end of it: she would have had reasonable grounds to fear for her safety after Williams’ tantrums. It’s also not too far to suggest that was Williams intention, to intimidate her opponent into throwing away her first Grand Slam title.

In the ‘Land of Nothing For Free’, it’s called ‘psyching out’ the opposition. Everywhere else, it’s called bullying.

From 2009, showing some things never change.

It’s not as if any of this is news. The Venus sisters line – especially Serena – consists of much the same excuses John McEnroe made when the International Tennis Federation finally tired of his antics on the court. The whole world being against them and it all being about fighting ‘The Man’ – despite the multiple Grand Slam wins.

WTA officials have tired of the Williamses in the same manner they tired of Anna Kournikova’s mercenary money grabbing antics where they put their own profit ahead of the good of the sport: faking injuries to pull out of tournaments clashing with advertising or sponsorship commitments, then demanding wildcard entries after the inevitable ranking crash because of who they are – and ever ready to play the race, gender or any other card to cloud over their actions in an era where you can get away with anything you like if you play the ‘victimhood’ card every chance you can, even when you’re so much part of that elite you pretend to despise you demand special treatment from it.

Certainly the game isn’t foolproof, but it has come a long way from its 1970s watershed when in the era of colour television matters which had been accepted for too long now were beyond excuse. Both Jimmy Connors and Ilie Năstase (the latter known as ‘Mr Nasty’) had long complained about the professional game employing decrepit old fossils as line judges for top tournaments as rewards for long service as back office administrators (it wasn’t unknown for line judges to be caught having nodded off mid-match) long before McEnroe made it a personal crusade.

But what started as exasperation about antique tennis federation practices, where court officials were regarded more as an honour guard than professional referees (if you think that’s bad, until its closure the ballboys at Wimbledon were unpaid ‘volunteers’ from a Barnardos orphanage – it was somehow considered a ‘privilege’ to do it) had now become ‘gamesmanship’, a way of putting opponents off their stride when they were winning matches. For every ‘chalkdust’ incident, there were dozens more tantrums, elongated shoelace tying, toilet breaks and other matters, particularly as Old Father Time caught up on McEnroe – who unlike Connors and Năstase (but ironically like Bjorn Borg) proved unable to grow old gracefully. Martina Navratilova behaved in much the same manner in the late 1980s when her star waned to Steffi Graf: snapping at the crowd for slow hand-clapping her as she made a mess of tying her laces.

The difference is Navratilova took a long look at herself, accepted her best days were behind her and her days as a challenger were long gone. Younger, fitter women with faster reflexes and better coaches had rendered her obsolete. Ironically it was accepting this and adjusting her game accordingly which brought her to one last Wimbledon Singles final five years after she was considered ‘finished’ – four years later after this she was to hold both the Wimbledon and Australian Mixed Doubles titles with the legendary Leander Paes, three years later, she added the U.S. Open Mixed – one month short of her 50th birthday – and this was a woman who had to put up with hostile crowds everywhere she went during her golden era – simply because she was a lesbian (actually worse than that, she came out as bisexual initially, which still gets a far rougher ride).

If you think attitudes have changed, look no further than Amelie Mauresmo – who for all her ‘Xena’ persona was a soft centre who blubbed when she won Wimbledon in 2006, and had to put up with Lindsey Davenport, Martina Hingis and yes, you guessed it, the Williams sisters bitchiness over her sexuality which may have played no small part in her notoriety as a series ‘bottler’ in semi-finals and finals.

Serena showed her class in lampooning Mauresmo long after she’d retired from women’s tennis in a Fox TV sketch a mere five years ago:

What was all that she was claiming again about her tantrums being all about wanting to stand up for the way women are treated in tennis?

Most damning of the lot Serena Williams was fined for her behaviour back in March when after being given a ‘wild card’ to enter the Miami Open, she was beaten convincingly 6-3, 6-2 in only the first round, and returned the kindness of the organisers allowing her in by storming off, refusing to do the contractual post-match press conference all players in the event must do.

Her opponent? The same Naomi Osaka she lost to in the U.S. Open final.

Coincidence? Or for all her accusations of prejudice, does someone perhaps have a bit of a problem with losing to mixed-race players, especially ones part-Haitian, part-Japanese (Americans tend to look upon Haitians as Voodoo obsessed bumpkins. As for American-Japanese relations, let’s not even go there…).

Whilst in the UK, being mixed-race (or ‘half-caste’ as it used to be referred to as) is no big deal anymore (the 1980 hit song ‘Embarrassment‘ by Madness about Hayley Thompson, shaming prevailent attitudes within indigenous, Afro-Carribean and Asian communities towards miscegenation, proved something of a cultural watershed), over the pond they have still a long way to go. Just ask Aarin.

Williams and her team were caught out cheating – full stop. That ‘everyone is doing it’ is no excuse, ever. That she still cannot admit to being in the wrong and in fact is throwing out a series of ever increasing counter-accusations without a shred of hard evidence other than hearsay and conjecture to back them up – rather than apologising in the slightest for her behaviour is a watershed moment for the game. For those who are indulging her faux-rage, they need to take a good look at themselves in the mirror.

If they don’t make an example, a proper example, of Sulky Selena, there is the risk of the game’s umpires and line officials refusing to officiate any games in which she plays and the entire game being thrown into disrepute over a refusal of those running the sport to clamp down on bad behaviour because it upsets the media corporations who love a sporting diva, and more sinister elements wanting to use it for other ends.

Pictures Inspired By Steve Hackett’s ‘The Night Siren’ (2017)

31 August, 2018

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Please find a collection of ten square pictures available as pictures for your Sims 3 game.

You do not need any stuff packs for this to work – it’s all base game friendly.


To use, download, unzip, and drop the contained folder into your The Sims 3\mods\packages folder and they should show up.


Over much of last year this beautiful album of music inspired me and kept me sane. It was originally made at Christmas 2017 with a bunch of other stuff, but due to Uni and other commitments never got around to posting it.

Steve Hackett was once the guitarist with Genesis – his departure from the band in 1976 after the Spot The Pigeon EP marked the end of their days as a prog rock band, mainly due to the shitty way he was treated by Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford after the success of his solo album ‘Voyage Of The Acolyte’ (made up of tracks Genesis had rejected).

After further success with ‘Please Don’t Touch’, ‘Spectral Mornings’ and ‘Defector’, a move away from prog tinged with South American and Japanese influences to a more pop and AOR style on ‘Cured’, ‘Highly Strung’ and ‘Till We Have Faces’ alienated fans and interest in his work declined. Even after Hackett returned to his original style, most felt it to be poor imitations of his previous work with nothing new to add.

However, after several successful tours playing old Genesis music with a carefully selected team of musicians and singers who could do justice to the work (his previous ‘Genesis Revisited’ tours were poorly received as cynical money making ventures), Hackett returned to form with ‘Wolflight’ and with the more recent ‘The Night Siren’ (mostly recorded straight onto his home computer next to his kitchen) – the latter regarded as the highlight of his career, and his biggest hit since the early 1980s. It is a mixture of Scandinavian, Celtic, Peruvian, Middle Eastern, African and Indian music, and unlike most ‘World Music’ albums it runs smoothly together.

Steve Hackett has put the entire album with accompanying videos on You Tube so you can hear for yourself. If you like it, go and buy it.

Work In Progress: Flags For Nilxis’ Islands, Rflong7/13’s Islands And Prof Plumbob’s Coconut Island

20 August, 2018

Lisen801 at Mod The Sims made a great default custom flag changer for Sims 3.

With this I’ve been making some custom flags for various Sims 3 maps, including all of the islands made by Nilxis, along with Ziwa Bonde. The white splodge on the right side is because these are pictures of the templates.

If you see two or more for the same map, that’s because I’m not sure which one I like best yet.

The unifier is the Nilxis’ world logo design to all.

Most of them work around a base blue colour similar to the neutral Nilxis flag (sort of a United Nilxis Nations idea).

Ziwa Bonde had a shield logo already with the publicity pictures for it, that was easy enough. One idea I toyed with was as well as there being the two tribes, there would also be a group of left over colonialists with their own non-Pan African colours (or rather Pan-Simharia based on the concept of the Sims world from the map by Hazzaplumbob), thus three flags.

Hylewood has the Hyle triangle added to the back of the Nilxis world logo. As it is a forever autumn island, the colours reflected this. Saaquatoq has a Scandinavian theme and so the Norse cross design.

Copacabana and Sinangein take theirs from the most obvious landmarks.

Pinewood Island is a combination of an obvious pine symbol plus a topographical rendition of the island on the horizon.

Sa Pineda means ‘the pines’, so it gets the pine tree.

Isla Kalooni has a crescent moon shape to go with the lunar name, again an obvious choice. With the Islamic connotations of Kalooni, I see the island as being somewhere north west of Morocco on Hazzaplumbob’s map.

These two are for islands made by Rflong7-13. The unifying logo I’ve chosen for her is a pink flamingo on a plumbob. She’s been around the Simming community since the start, and the pink flamingo and plumbob are often used by her for her avatars, so I’ve decided to use this as a central motif to any flags I create.

Again based on the promotional pictures Prof Plumbob made for his series of islands of the same name.

R.I.P. Aretha Franklin

16 August, 2018

Had a dreadful feeling her shows last year was a big mistake, she was not up to it from the start and looked gaunt and awful. But she still had that voice, and probably the knowledge she wasn’t going to be around for much longer made her decide ‘ah, the heck with it, let’s go.’

But now I knew how those Queen fans must have felt all those years ago after Freddie Mercury died and the ‘These Are The Days Of Our Lives’ posthumous single video – shot four months before his death – came out and saw the state he’d been reduced to.

Her last major UK hit was her cover of ‘A Deeper Love’ in 1994 (No.5 in the UK), but she’ll be best remembered over here for her duet with George Michael ‘I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)’ (ironic that she outlasted him, and the title somewhat ironic in itself), ‘Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves’ with The Tourists Eurythmics (Annie Lennox’ All Men Are Bastards number after Dave Stewart dumped her for one of the Bananarama bimbos) and of course for  ‘R – E -S – P – E – C – T’.

Me? I’ll remember her most of all for that appearence in The Blues Brothers movie (which I may have watched a few million times) as the matriarch of the Soul Food Cafe selling ‘the best damned chicken in the state!’ – unless you were after her husband and staff as band members, whereupon you could get the hell out, ‘without your dry white toast, without your four fried chickens, and without Matt Guitar Murphy!’ before belting out the showstopper ‘Think!’

All you wannabe R ‘n’ B divas who don’t know jack shit what R and B originally stands for – this is real talent. No computerised voice gimmickry. No freaking bullshit. Learned the hard way of solid graft belting out in the gospel halls where so much fantastic music from America originated.

We shall not see her like again.

There’s No Such Thing As A ‘Decent’ Racial Nationalist

13 August, 2018

[Don’t worry, this is the last ‘political’ one I’ll be doing for a while now I’ve got my ‘gaming’ laptop back!]

One of the most stupid concepts within the various strands of Britain’s far right is ‘racial nationalism’ – the notion that a nation’s homogeneity is linked to a particular race. The original British National Party of John Bean and Andrew Fontaine started this crap in the 1950s, little more than an attempt to repackage Nazi and Fascist beliefs into a form which those on the ‘patriotic’ wing of the Conservative Party would find acceptable.

Unfettered EU immigration under Tony Blair’s Labour government proved one of this ideology’s biggest chickens coming home to roost. Parts of Britain were swamped in less than ten years with white Eastern Europe immigrants with wildly different attitudes (and often zero English) to the native population, at the expense of the steady flow of non-white immigrants from our former Afro-Caribbean and Asian colonies, most of whom had either spoken English or used English as their language of officialdom and often had shared communal attitudes (especially of right and wrong) on top.

Even the biggest racist learned the hard way that shared cultural mores counted for far more in practice than shared skin pigmentation, and it is no coincidence that from those still pursuing the line of ‘nordic brotherhood’ are regarded from this point onward as on a par with UFOlogists and Flat Earthers.

One by one these idiots unwilling to face the real world are dying off, and it’s no surprise that both the current BNP and NF are jointly mourning another of their number now pushing up the daisies who was behind many of their abortive ‘unity’ attempts.

When Ken Booth was in charge of the National Front of the North East of England, in 2007 he compared Auschwitz to Disneyland and refused to believe the reported death toll figures – a common theme amongst Holocaust deniers.

He later jumped ship to the Griffin led BNP and over to Andrew Brons’ British Democratic Party (another old far-right party name being recycled) when some of the old racists disliked Griffin’s attempts to make them cuddly (and after Griffin’s disastrous performance on BBC’s Question Time saw their electoral fortunes plunge – by contrast Brons gave two polished TV performances in the following weeks).

But perhaps it’s best to let the only newspaper headline he ever attracted in his life speak for itself.

With Booth in Beelzebub’s boudoir, one of the few ‘unity pushers’ left is Richard Edmonds – the loyal sidekick of the evil John Tyndall (Britain’s premier Nazi from about 1972 until his death in 2005) from 1980 when there was an Evil Henchmen vacancy caused by Martin Webster deciding to ditch his old boss Tyndall as a bust flush after he’d single handedly bankrupted the National Front.

There’s a rumour that the old BBC TV show Waterloo Road based their grumpy bigot balding schoolteacher Grantly Budgen character on Edmonds, as he first achieved national notoriety after being sacked as a school teacher in London for his views (one of several jobs he was to lose in his life from his racist hobbies). He achieved even more infamy as the editor of Holocaust denial Holocaust News, and as Deputy Leader of Tyndall’s vanity party (the second incarnation of the BNP) was its passive aggressive mouthpiece to the press and TV, based in the BNP’s 1990s ‘bookshop’ (a reinforced bunker in London’s Brick Lane, deliberately chosen to provoke its large ethnic minority population).

All in all, a thoroughly unpleasant man, but not according to Matthew Collins, dickhead of ‘research’ at Hopeless Not Helping.

‘Eloquent and generous’? What planet are you on? The BNP’s ‘bookshop’ (really the party’s administrative HQ) was strictly appointment only, so Collins stories can be dismissed as bullshit. Sadly for that skeet, it is easy to get from most central reference libraries copies of Tim Hepple’s ‘At War With Society’ account of life inside the BNP’s Brick Lane bunker and what actually went on. A man who lives on an exclusive diet of cheese, bacon and beans is not the ‘eloquent’ type by any stretch of the imagination, not even a ‘racial nationalist’ one!

Collins has been showing concern for his old idol’s health.

Sod off! Edmonds is no A. K. Chesterton, Bill Baillie or John Bean, someone whose views you may not agree with or may even downright abhor, but at least shows signs of decency as a human being and more to the point towards his fellow human beings. Edmonds whole life is centred around hate for hate’s sake.

He would have been jailed and the key lost years ago had not so-called ‘anti-fascists’ deliberately prejudiced his numerous trials (in much the same manner Tommy Robinson tried doing which earned him a well-earned stay behind bars) in order to keep him on the loose and themselves in work. His luck finally ran out in 1993 when he did three months for his part in an assault on a mixed race couple where he flung a beer glass at them and called the girl a ‘n*gg*r lover.’ Anyone who uses violence to pursue their political objectives is scum for which there can be no excuse.

Again, a picture tells what Matthew Collins’ bullshit does not.

There for all the world to see is very much the true nature of this repulsive evil old bigot with his permanent snarl against the world – a complete oxygen thief who has never done a single decent action in his life for Britain or humanity in general, all he can ever do is hate, hate, hate. More’s the pity he didn’t stay over in Russia (where he fled to after his loyal master was sent to hell) with the rest of the wastes of space.

Certainly no one should feel sorry he’s thrown all his money away on pursuing the Nazi daydream and is now living a miserable impoverished existence, all the while still peddling this crap.

A few paragraphs back you claimed that the BNP ‘bookshop’ was responsible for the murder of local blacks and Asians from the hate it encouraged, now you’re saying you would doff your cap to the bastard that ran the place? Ow, my brain hurts – but at least I have a brain to hurt, you freaking skeet!

As anti-racist double-agent John Kingsley Read retorted to John Tyndall in the NF in 1975 (when Read was head of the NF!), ‘a man is known by the company he keeps.’ This also applies to the company one would voluntarily keep, Mr Collins.