#
The Cockney Translater!





Let’s not partake people, let’s just keep going...

Don’t buy in...


Keep on moving, don’t let the stank of revenge, get on you will never get it off.


The morning is still the morning..

Go on, smile.

There that’s bettererereer.

We can now see all the bits in ya teeth from breaky. Gooood.




Here’s a look into another world you know nothing of...

Or maybe you do, if so, why haven't you phoned me, you don't want to not phone me you know.

You already know why.

You’re parents are criminals and now you’re old enough to be one to.

Think about it...

They are.


Once when travelling as a companion a man was standing in Harrods.

He had the ticket by proxy, but standing there in the underground carpark, next to a fellow traveller he knew she was not of his world, she travelled on her own misfortune...


The ticket meant a lot.

You had to be asked to participate, once you’re in the collective you bare its communal cost no matter what happens...


It guarantees things that cannot be guaranteed..


Some may think of it as insurance, some may think of it as a different realm...

This man.

He just knew if it wasn't for his talent , he wouldn't be there either.


So perhaps they were more alike than he cared to excuse himself for.

Easier on the fragile mind scaffold, to just admit it.


Her driver walked across the carpark and got into a large saloon car.

He pulled up and she got in.

He loaded the trunks and shut the door on the way past , clunk, vroom gone.

His party started coming out of the lift.

A very old but distinguished gay man.

His latest "friend" three porters with baggage.


Get a car he said, a fast one, want a thrill.

He nodded, no need to speak.


Of he went looking down the row, the choice was Bentley.

Green to.

The right green.


Maybe today won’t be so usual after all.




He got in, adjusted , started, he knew he couldn't let it warm.

As he pulled up alongside the ticket holder, he paused, so a rather long kiss could finish.

He got out and went to the trunk.

Loaded the bags.

One was snatched, the one containing bottles.

Thick glass ones.

He knew the particular clang very well.


Luton airport, was said as he got in and the door screwed shut.

Will I be travelling with you sir, he asked.


Yes, was the reply,


Does that mean delays? Was the next question, already knowing the answer...

No he said, I will however have to pick up my things.

No don't bother, buy it all.


This would be an undertaking for most, but for him.

Worse, you see he would need attire suiting the setting, the setting could be many places.

An itinerary was the norm, but sometimes this happened.


For this very reason the ticket functioned.


His sizes were known quarterly from his tailor.

All suits and shorts will be delivered.

To the first destination.

With one message, not even a call.


All that was needed was a thumbprint.

From the holder.


Pulling into Luton the plane sat visible from the road..

He knew most of the numbers.

He hoped it was a newer one than the last.

The pilot was about to retire it.

It seemed to be one of the newer ones he saw as the waited for a side barrier to open inside the carpark.

The security guard saluted as they went through, he smiled to himself, idiot he thought.




They pulled up to the plane.

He got out and opened the doors.

They boarded to greetings from the crew.


Within twenty minutes they were all leaning back in their seats accelerating up the runway.


Now he can tell you about the ticket in his thoughts.


The ticket is purchased, the price was 18.8million pounds sterling per person regardless of age.


At that time,1991ish..


It’s difficult to get, you have to know someone, who has one..

How would you meet that person?

There are rules,


The rules have been borrowed by Hollywood for the best part of a century...

They sound dramatic.

Cos they are.

Its lots of money, people get very upset over much less.

The current approximate value of a life in the west is 5300 american dollars.

Less elsewhere.

You know, your birth cert price, or street value.

18.8 million, or your part of the share of it, if you make a living from it, is very serious, a year’s wages could depend on the most trivial of mistakes.


So people involved do not speak about it at all to anyone who is not involved or a patron.


Most tickets these days are bought by the parents for the children.


They last twenty years.

Then there is a renewal fee.


So many questions..

Where do you buy it?

Who do you buy it from?

What do you get for your money?


Can anyone be asked?

Who would be asked?

Why?


You buy it in one place, and collect it in another.

Never in the same city as the purchase.

One of two cities..

Perhaps you should guess, it’s not hard, I shouldn't think.


I will tell you at the end.

You buy it from a consortium.

They are very hard to pin down, all above board.

But very hard to find.

They have a name, but that’s for conversation, not bandy.


What do you get for your money?

Well that is the 18.8 million pound question isn't it Mr Sterling.


You get a passport, of sorts.

It’s like being chipped, that’s probably what they do nowadays, to help find you in an emergency.

You had a pocket pager beacon back in the naughteys.


The guy on the jets mind, will give away more.


As he drifts into sleep and out, keeping one ear out for questions.


We can eavesdrop on his thoughts.


He picks up a magazine, it had a palm-tree on it, he realised he didn't even know where he was going.


He gets up and goes to the cockpit.

Knocks on the door, the waitress looks up from serving at the back of the jet, can she help she thought, he looked at her and shook his head.

She looked back again, realising it is not her concern.


The door opened, one of the pilots ask if he can help,

He asks the pilot the flight plan, or destination whichever is more relevant, with a sigh.

The pilot said we are landing in Chicago.

Then you are getting on another plane to Vegas after a stopover in town.

A car is waiting at the airport, will you need a driver?

He shakes his head.

Ok, anything else I can help you with?

He shook his head again.


Time to find out if he is needed again or can he retire?

Oh he can, so he goes to sleep.

Now we can find out what you get for a ticket. As he drifts off.




You get everything.

Sounds crazy but that’s what you get.

In any eventuality you are picked up and taken where ever in the world it is possible to go.

That is more or less anywhere.

Anytime.

Whatever transport is needed to get you there, if the request is given courteously (in good time) some places need big plans of mice and men.

And dogs sometimes.

Also some odd humans.

With weird talents, mind n bodies, sometimes.


It’s a world, a world few know exists , but more than you may think.


Let’s take our friend, sitting on the aeroplane.


He is very good at some things and average at others.

This is of use to the man he is contracted to.

His title would be a gentleman’s gentleman.

In the old money.

But now, he is all things.

Drives, gets in the way of drunk people.

Makes things go smoothly.

Is ignored in company, but a best friend when the principle is lonely.


The best, because he will never speak to another.

Another rule.

He sits there thinking about the woman in the carpark.

She was small, pretty.

Late thirties.

Dark hair.

Green eyes.

Unusual looking.

He felt as if she didn't even see him, he knows when someone sees him.

Another odd talent.

He wonders what hers is?




Why she had the ticket, she was given the ticket he thinks.

But he may be a bit jealous, he travelled with, because of, not for.

There’s a difference.

It was her ticket, she put her thumb on the pad.

He didn't.

He thought.

She had a large scar on her neck, maybe she was one of the forms he thought.


Let’s leave our friend to his thoughts...


I will tell you what he knows from here.


The ticket has agreements with everyone and every organisation it needs to, but only those it needs to accomplish its goals.


Some of the business it does is known by the nature of the person asked.

Some isn't.

Business takes part with no notion and full involvement depending on the sensitivity of the task and the ticket holder.


Anything can be done within reason, sometimes depending on the name and the longevity of the holder, more than reason permits.


The guy on the plane finding out where he is going from the pilot is in this position because the organisation gets everything thru instantly with contacts and clout...

One call and all passports and visa are approved.

Anything you need is delivered.

Your sizes are known by the shopper.

He or she will make sure you have all you need for where you are going even if you don't know, they will...

It’s greased with money all the way...


No one will ever say, ‘stop’ to the holder, ever.


They just walk, the stops are for the help.

To take care of.


That’s what the ticket does.


For a rich dad it's peace of mind.

For a useless but rich idiot, its insurance he/she gets home in one piece whatever the clever weather.


Some it’s just fucking convenient cos they don't have to worry about travel ever again, in any way whatsoever.


Three o'clock in the morning in a club in London or Paris, or wherever.

One text...

A car picks you up there, while another goes to your house where your servants are waiting to pack the bags.


You go to the airport if the baggage makes it, it goes on with you, if not, it follows shortly, very shortly, it’s there, if not new things are.


The help like it, they get to keep the clobber.

Plus the usual suitcase full of the very expensive toiletries etc.

Anything that isn't nailed down is free eh!


Then there is the duty free business everyone runs on the side, yes it’s a good number if you can keep quiet.


There are other companies offering any service you want in this world.


They all work on the same bullshit.

Silence.


Some are just ordinary in business, their products and services , like any other, but some are not.

Ask Nancy Devious, she has a ticket and so do all her family, I can feel it in my blackwater!


We need to stop feeding the algorithm what it wants...

In order to do that we have to stop playing these crazy games with each other.

I mean you, yes you..

You do it.

Your shit stinks too...

You make up stories in your head after the fact, but you know what you do, better than anyone.

Sure you try.

We all do.




But now it is gettin life and death for people, maybe not you yet, but it’s coming if you just stand there and let the looney left and the fascist right that don't exist, pave your way.


Anything that measures something natural that falls from the sky, water, then stops it from going into the mouth of the inhabitants is wrong.


Anything that grips you till death for any amount of money is wrong.

Nepotism is wrong.

The old boys’ network is wrong.


Governments spying on their people is wrong.

Sticking your nose in other people’s business without being asked is wrong.


Being inhuman to a human is our end.


Unless it is arrested by the honest non violent.


That’s the war that’s coming.


It will make the previous wars obsolete.


It will be a war of the conscious against the unconscious, automaton.


Elon, you have known for several years..

I have, so I know you have cos you’re much more proper than me.


I’m a slave given freedom.

You’re a master of all you survey.

Now you pipe up...

Lol.


Fucking hell...

It’s beyond belief the hypocrisy.

My gast is acutely flabbered.


Meanwhile the seven sons sit in china riding and deriding bitcoin.

All for shits n giggles, plus a bit of profit in the dip.




The nitrogen cell is a waste of time.

But the shares are going to be propped up...

By big money, to make you think it’s the one..

They need to keep a grip, selling you a more expensive gas to keep you connecting an umbilical cord to their electronic wallet.

The thing that will be impressive is, I know when I read the gumf they splurge out, I will find myself thinking thoughts that are not mine..

How else could you be so stupid as to invest in a technology that fixes you to the dealer, when you can clearly just plug in at your destination while you’re there...


Watch who invests in the gascell.

That will tell you more than any guru/dreamer.


Funny the thing to invest in the future will be oil, for Totally different reasons...

But that’s for the future , no need to spoil that yet, not that I could, jus' sayin'.


But yeah, there grip doth slip.


That’s the price that was paid by the lofty, for the argument that ended back in 2011.


In 2012, 7 men flew to China.





Since then, they have split and moved about again.

Maybe jesses kid should see if their dug in like a witches tit somewhere close.


Watch the rotation in the morning of the news channels,

Make your mind up from the varying stab angles which is the real one, blade think your way.


Then you will come to the conclusion that watching is your inclusion..

The energy you give it, makes it real for them.


Slowly or quickly, depending, the internet addiction will conquer all.


In your hand, every moment.

The possibilities of that, is in place, are endless.


The barcode boys at IBM can’t wait...

But I’m showing my age.

It won’t be a barcode, not this time, the categories are for everyone, we will all be inventoried.

Already we are, the big heave from paper to power is nearly over.

Then they rely on the solid storage of that data...

The power will not need to been on, to keep that memory.


But every time it comes on, it will fire up, for its master’s ends..

No AI is not the problem, just the I.

Is the problem.






Ping.