I've been sleeping too much recently. Then again, it beats stoning.


On one of the most perplexing uses of the apostrophe:

'Take the possessive of proper names ending in "s" - such as my own... Current guides to punctuation (including that ultimate authority, Fowler's Modern English Usage) state that with modern names ending in "s" (including biblical names, and any foreign name with an unpronounced final "s"), the "s" is required after the apostrophe:

Keats's poems
Philippa Jones's book
St James's Square
Alexander Dumas's The Three Musketeers

With names from the ancient world, it is not:

Archimedes' screw
Achilles' heel

If the name ends in an "iz" sound, an exception is made:

Bridges' score
Moses' tablets

And an exception is always made for Jesus:

Jesus' disciples

However, these are matters of style and preference that are definitely not set in stone, and it's a good idea not to get fixated about them... Consulting a dozen or so recently published punctuation guides, I can report that they contain minor disagreements on virtually all aspects of the above and that their only genuine consistency is in using Keats's poems as the prime example. Strange, but true. They just can't leave Keats alone. "It is Keats' poems (NOT Keats's)," they thunder. Or alternatively: "It is Keats's poems (NOT Keats')." Well, poor old Keats, you can't help thinking. No wonder he developed that cough.'

--- Lynne Truss, Eats, Shoots & Leaves - The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation, pp 55-57

Now you know why both Tym and I am in accord in recommending it :)


Two Americans are at a corner when a Swiss guy drives up.

The Swiss guy asks 'Sprechen sie Deutsch?'.

The two guys just stare.

'Parlez vous Francais?'

The two guys look at each other.

'Parla italiano?'

The two guys just shake their heads and the Swiss drives off in disgust.

One guy says to the other 'Hey, do you think that maybe we ought to learn another language?'

The other says 'Why bother? That guy could speak four and look what it got him!'


Someone recently told me, "It isn't immediately apparent to me why you hate the army so much... if you could distil the hatred into a couple of sentences that would be good".

I seem to have settled recently into sadness tinged with regret. As my ORD approaches, I wonder,

"How do you pick up the threads of an old life?
How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back?
There are some things that time cannot mend.
Some hurts that go too deep... that have taken hold"

If you want hatred, well, try being in an organisation which doesn't afford you Respect, Care and Dignity (that being the motto of the SAF Counselling Centre, the corollary being that those 3 are not available elsewhere) and which takes you for granted as sub-human slave labour, beholden to the whims and fancies of the slave masters.

My rage has morphed recently into something hovering between pity and contempt, for the pitiful creatures of darkness who know not how they bind themselves with the chains of their iniquity. Of course, it is hard to feel pity when you are sprawled on the tarmac, gnashing your teeth and wailing, having collapsed after a route march, but since I'm pretty much free now, I have the luxury of feeling such emotions.