IT'S ALL A QUESTION OF PRIORITIES!

                                               

                                             IT'S ALL A QUESTION OF PRIORITIES!

The 'Breaking News' this morning is that the Oxford Zeneca vaccine has been approved for distribution and our government has ordered 100 million doses, which should be good for everyone.  It now emerges that there is to be a twelve week gap between the first jab and the follow-up.  Presumably this is to allow more people to obtain some initial protection.  I only mention this as I was under the impression that the two injections were much closer together.  It matters not to me, I'm just thankful that a potential life and society saver has been developed. (bloody Chinese!)

I fully understand the priorities in terms of age, but I do ponder as to whether it is as simple as this.  For instance, shouldn't priority be arranged by class, breeding and social standing?  I mean, it's all right starting with the elderly, but you can have two seventy year olds, one who smokes, drinks heavily and/or gorges the night away, while the other leads a healthy life looking after him or herself thus saving the NHS millions.   The saved millions doubtless being spent on kidney dialysis machines or lung and heart transplants!  And of course it's not just 'The North' that suffers from the former wastrel, I understand we have estates in parts of the south as well...I know, I couldn't believe it myself at first, but that's modern Britain for you.

My priorities would be those that could trace their lineage back to the reign of Henry VIII as that is not only a reasonable time to be able to describe oneself  as English through and through, but it marks the end of Catholicism as the ruling religion, which is fairly significant in itself! Good old Henry I say...

So, having brought together the first to be inoculated, in what order should it be?.... let's see... Those who work, or have worked - the longer the number of years, the further up the queue you are - that's easy. Those who voted to leave the EU, work with animals or in conservation go first, naturally, followed by anyone contributing to the making of pork pies, Branston Pickle or  Evostik.  There may well be foreign workers  involved in these processes, but we are talking of  'reserved occupations' after all and thus qualifies them for temporary 'British' status - NOT to be confused with the issuing of a UK passport.  As we say in Surrey, any fool can be be British, but it takes breeding to be English!

I think we can swiftly say that all those fulfilling useful work and lives will be entitled to a welcome at the vaccine clinic. those at the back of the queue will be the unemployed, smokers, alcoholics, druggies, cyclists, all staff at The Guardian, all paid-up members of the Lib-Dems, those who voted to Remain, teachers - on the basis that I've never witnessed such a whinging group of so-called professionals in all my life, Elton John - on the basis that he makes my skin crawl, and any Covid protester who feels they should hedge their bet and have a shot anyway!

The devil is in the detail as they say, but the devil in this case is north of the border, so what rotten luck that there isn't enough to go round and Scotland misses out!   But life's not fair, if it was Nigel Farage would be given a knighthood for services to his country and Piers Morgan would have taken over from Dominic Cummings!

 

OF ARROGANT RED COATED TICKS AND OTHER KILLERS

                               

                       OF ARROGANT  RED COATED TICKS AND OTHER KILLERS

Well, Boxing Day is over and fortunately there has been very little in the news concerning those imbeciles who consider killing an animal for pleasure to be their 'Rite of Passage'.  The sight of the uniformed hunter and their like-minded but horseless followers gathering in a village square prior to their 'Excellent Adventure' is as sickening a scene as watching Jimmy Savile discussing his good work at Leeds General Infirmary.  Thinking about it, fox hunters and animal murderers in general have a lot in common with Remainers!  They are both from an age past but still believe their time will come again, public opinion meaning not a jot in their lack-of reasoning, but then they are, to a man and woman, arrogant bastards!

Anyone who knows me or has read any of my books will be aware just how much I abhor cruelty to animals.  I read with dismay that Yorkshire has the highest number of recorded deaths to birds of prey in the country, what an embarrassment that should be to the county.  If only those who put so much time and effort into promoting black, transgender, trans-sexual, non-binary and LBGT etc rights and wrongs stood back and looked at really worthwhile crusades such as the slaughter of all creatures great and small and not those of the needy and over-promoted we would be a genuinely more caring society.

The hypocrisy of the titled and untitled landed gentry who witter on about conservation of the moors by making fortunes out of paying punters/hunters who stalk deer, shoot 'game' and generally have a 'jolly good time' is breathtaking.  From eagle to kestrel, nothing is left un-baited in the name of profit.  What an irony it is that these 'people' - I use the word very advisedly - with an ever eager eye to  profit whilst at such great cost to the natural world, command such standing in society and leverage in politics.  Sadly, the idea of 'conservation' and the hunters' contribution to it is not confined to those with power and influence within our shores.   Oh no, throughout  Asia, Africa, America, Russia and sadly Europe this barbarity is rife.   Rhino, elephant, tiger et al... either in the name of conservation or filthy lucre - horns, skins, trophies... it is disgusting.   And oh,  how the EU has turned a blind eye to animal welfare from within its 28 (now 27!!!) states, particularly those from the east whose idea of kindness appears to be on a par with that practised in medieval times.  How can bullfighting still be considered a legally acceptable sport... unbelievable!

Mind you, is it surprising the animal murderers are so cocky, confident and either protected in some measure by the law or certainly given a sympathetic ear by those with power?   It required a Labour government to abolish fox hunting, the Tories wouldn't have risked it, might lessen the swelling of the coffers - people in high places equals money in Conservative funds, and you don't get much higher than a saddle.

If only those who kill animals for fun were given proper leadership in just how obscene their activities are, if only we had a Royal Family, ie those who head this country giving true leadership in this area.  Hunting is indeed a practice handed down from king to king to queen to.... Charles? And so it goes on, even with the Royals in Waiting.  

There is a book by  Norman  Baker, entitled "... And What Do You Do".  In the chapter  "Killer Wales" (good play on words!) it is noted that on one day in 1913, King George V and his party shot and killed 3,937 birds, the King accounting for 1,000 pheasants in six hours, which equals three a minute.   They were shot for fun not food.   This desire to kill is definitely in the inbred genes, my guess is the German ones! In 1876, the future Edward VII shot dead 23 tigers in two weeks, plus one elephant.   George VI, on one of his little jollies, killed oryx, giant gazelles, antelopes and a bull elephant.   This particular chapter is extremely enlightening as to the crass stupidity and blood-thirsty taste within the Royals.   It mentions the fact that Prince Philip can "make the dubious claim of having killed more living creatures than any other Royal alive.   One estimate in 1996 reckoned that in the previous 30 years he had shot at least 30,000 pheasants.   On top of that, he was known to have shot at least one tiger and 2 crocodiles, not to mention wild boar, stags, rabbits and ducks too numerous to count".   It doesn't go unnoticed, of course, that Prince Philip was a founder member of the World Wildlife Fund in 1961.   It was in that same year that as a guest of the Maharaja of Jaipur some 200 beaters drove a tiger into a clearing so that 'Phil the Kill' (As I think of him) could shoot the animal.   How brave he must have felt. If I ever met a member of the Royal Family I would have to bring up this subject and ask them how they can square what, for me, are their disgusting activities and still describe themselves as being committed to conservation.

This book is a very well researched insight into the life and lives of the Royal Family and its history within our society.   By God, have we paid through the nose and just as a waiver, I do not know the author, have nothing to gain from recommending the book, other than the desire for others to understand what total  hypocrites we have as our heads of state and what a price we pay for them to remain in such isolated grandeur and privilege. 

Right, I'm off out with the dog for a walk, just hope there's not a trigger-happy Royal with a rifle beating the bounds.. or a servant...

THE DAY OF THE SULLIED MAT

 

                                                THE DAY OF THE SULLIED MAT

I am still getting over the shock, the shock of being the recipient of the most hideous flyer that anyone could find landing on their doormat - a mat now totally sullied by this incursion into my privacy.   If only the flyer had been generated by a team of local paedophiles, murderers or, dare I say it, even worse, a local cycling club, but nothing could compare with what I found.   Yes, it was a leaflet from the Guildford Liberal Democrats.   On one side there is a photograph of a local church, taken from across the road, without a car in sight - in fact, as  sylvan scenes go, this could be part of the footage from an episode of Midsomer Murders!   The background to the church tower is pure sky and trees.   It shows not the new housing development taking place within a 100 or so yards, nor the developments that have taken place over the last fifty years and have totally annihilated the fields that prevailed prior to the continued rape of our landscape.   Pride of place in this photograph goes to the Liberal Democrat County Council candidate for Ash and Ash Vale.   A very pleasant looking lady sporting a black and white striped top, black cardigan complimented and finished off with a yellow scarf around her neck.   I assume the choice of colour is to cement the Lib-Dem connection within the reader's psyche?   'There's clever', as they say on Barry Island! She is leaning on rustic fencing and is looking to all the world like a proper person.  I've mentioned it before, but how on earth could she represent a party whose name, Liberal Democrat, represents the most undemocratic of all parties.   That any political party in this country could openly go against the majority of people who voted in a Referendum to leave the European Union because they didn't like the result is staggering.  It is with relish I recall that their policy to overturn and ignore the wishes of that majority culminated in political suicide at the last election.

I have in times past voted for the Liberal Democrats (local elections only),  but it is not an action I would ever take again.   The flyer starts in a friendly manner, in fact, it starts "Dear Friend" before saying in bold, "I just wanted to wish you a happy and prosperous 2021".   The candidate goes on to say, "As always the local Lib Dem team and I will spend this year working hard on local issues that matter to you.   I've included the local party's details, along with some other important numbers and a useful 2021 calendar on the reverse".   It then goes on about getting in touch if you have problems and is signed by the Liberal Democrat candidate.   There is a little sticker thanking you for your support - that anyone would give it is beyond belief, but I understand people still read the Guardian and wear sandals....

Turning over and looking below the calendar, amongst the useful local numbers, ie police, NHS, street repairs, bins and recycling, there is one for Childline.   That's a bit rich coming from a party whose founding fathers include David Steel, a leader who appears to have turned a very blind eye to the inappropriate actions over many years by Cyril Smith.   However, what goes round comes round.   There is also a telephone number for the Farnham Food Bank.   I wonder just how much poverty there really is in Farnham?   Still, where you have an estate you will find alleged poverty.   It beggars belief that in this day and age we have food banks.   Real poverty was in the 1920's and 30's, the Victorian times when we had workhouses.   A more overworked and mis-used word would be hard to find.  Poverty now seems to be when your children do not have the latest IPhone. 

The last words on the flyer read:- 'Liberal Democrats - working hard all year round'.  Perhaps if they tried listening a bit harder they wouldn't need to work quite so hard!  Just another thought...

A LITTLE MATTER OF BLACK LIVES MATTERING

                                 

                                  A LITTLE MATTER OF BLACK LIVES MATTERING 

Black lives matter enormously, though for some reason white lives do not appear to matter quite so much. Certainly, you'd think that way by watching the BBC.   I smiled wryly when hearing Harry Kane, the Spurs and England footballer, extolling the need to continue going down on one knee at the start of every football match in support of a perceived black awareness and needs.  Well, you are certainly aware both of them and their needs.   It would be bad enough and pointless enough if footballers knelt on the basis that "all lives matter", but they don't.   It's divisive, singular and it dismisses an awful lot of the world's population.  It certainly doesn't engender good race relations, what it does do is hack white people off! (Oxbridge dons, teachers, Guardian readers and other like-minded misguided fools apart - obviously!)

And, oh ... oh how they go on about slavery.   As if it was banned only last month.   It wasn't, it was before any of us were born, it was before our parents were born and thinking about it, our grandparents.  We weren't involved.   I know of nobody in my family who bought or sold slaves and if I did and they had, it wouldn't matter.   I would feel no more guilt on a personal level than I do on a national level.   I watched with gob aghast at the scenes in Bristol earlier this year, when the statue of that very generous Mr. Colston was brought down by a baying mob of black and white anarchists, hell bent on having a good day out and destroying our history to boot.   Who the hell do these oiks think they are?  What gives them the right to destroy, vandalise, and create mayhem whist attempting to re-write history, a very dangerous game... And where were the police when this act of vandalism took place?   Well, they stood by, of course, as no-one wants to stand up to organised thuggery at the best of times, let alone when there are racial overtones and undertones involving those who are... well.... well toned!

Why do black people have such a chip on their shoulders.  You would think they were the only slaves on earth.  There is no exclusivity to slavery.  From the 16th to the 19th century Barbary pirates or Corsairs played havoc along the south-west coasts of England and Ireland.  Thousands of locals, from gentry to yokels,  (rhyming unintentional) were forcibly taken from their villages and loaded into ships bound for modern day Turkey, Morocco, Tunisia, Libya and Algeria.  The perpetrators were African Arabs residing within the Ottoman Empire.  They were not concerned with race or religion.  The slaves they captured were a commodity - white, brown, black, Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, Jewish and Muslim.  Wealth ruled - so no change from today, huh!  Out of interest, the closest my family history runs to this subject, is the purchase in 1971, not of a slave but a Ford Corsair.  It was two-tone green and cream.  Bloody thing was a bugger to start!  Too much choke, the carburettor flooded and the car stayed on the drive all day, only fired up when you didn't want to go anywhere.

Thought  -  Should protestors be flocking to the gates of the Ford Motor Company and commence protestations over the decision taken over fifty years ago to name one of their cars 'Corsair'?  

Meanwhile, all these years later do you hear or read of white people demonstrating in any of the aforementioned countries, complaining of bygone atrocities?  Of course you don't.  Mind you, can you imagine demonstrating in Libya?  The others, of course, are now regular tourist destinations.  I doubt if many holiday makers in Morocco or Tunisia are even aware of the white slave trade.  It certainly won't be taught in schools in this country, as all victims in schools and universities are black and all aggressors are white.  On the Barbary Coast women ended up as sex slaves at worst and domestic servants at best.  Men were put to hard labour, beatings, starvation and death were rife.  There were prisons known as bagnios which were hot and overcrowded during the day, a bit like a modern northern nightclub, and cold and overcrowded at night - a bit like the northern tenement the clubbers returned home to!

Not only are these black chaps and chapesses needy and spiky, they are also very prissy.  Black is the new "coloured".  I remember not that long ago when we whites were encouraged, nay re-educated, to refer to them as coloured instead of black.  Well, fair enough the word "coloured" encompasses varying hues. What happens?  Well, only a couple of weeks ago some poor cove in the football racket - sorry, game - had to resign after he used the word "coloured" during a meeting where race was on the agenda, and when isn't it!.  And he's had to resign for that?  Well, it's sackcloth and ashes time for him..  But what was so unacceptable?  Black is not a good word.  It is not all embracing.  In fact, it is very selective.  In short, it refers to those who are genuinely black.  We whites come in varying shades of white, but it is still white, or white-ish.  Anything darker than white becomes half-caste - mixed race or heritage as is - you then move  on to slightly swarthy (Latin), swarthy (Middle Eastern), then varying depths of darkness dependent on the country of origin.  Oh, how disappointed one is, how guilty one feels to be white, with the BBC showing ever more trailers and fillers with hardly a white face in sight, their promotion of black actors, black films, black music and Black Friday.  Is there anything of white origin left to be proud of. if there is you won't hear the BBC crowing about it! MOBO - Music of Black Origin awards but no MOWO's!

I think we'll finish on a appropriately skewed joke. I well remember the morning I arose from my slumber not quite feeling myself. Making my way down to the kitchen I looked in the cupboard under the sink and extracted the black shoe polish before applying it all over my face and neck. I then proceeded to the front room where I took hold of the Tippex and applied it as a female would a lipstick. I felt really strange, luckily a quick chat with the doctor and my relief was palpable. He diagnosed my suffering as 'Pre-Minstrel Tension'.....I know, I know...

LIFE AND... PASSING ON

                                                            

                                                              LIFE AND...  PASSING ON

Tuesday 10th November 2020 was not a good day.  It was a memorable day, but not for the right reasons. It was the day of the inquest into the death of my son.  The 3rd August 2019 was the date he tragically died in mysterious circumstances.  It was a Saturday, the sun was shining, it should have been a good day, not his last day.  The Assistant Coroner at Woking Coroners Court declared  an 'Open conclusion'.  Open means that a death cannot be rubber stamped as definitively as an 'Accident', a 'Suicide'... or afforded a banner appertaining to 'Foul play'.

'Open' may be a conclusion for the Assistant Coroner, but open wasn't the word I'd use to describe the proceedings.  A 'Foregone Conclusion', a 'Whitewash'? it was certainly a convenient shroud behind which  Surrey Police could conceal their lack-of-investigation.  Had they been more diligent in their enquires a more expansive picture would have emerged and the truth behind my sons death more likely to be revealed.  He drowned in a swimming pool at a private house during the afternoon of that fateful day.  He was helping out his estranged wife as a favour...what a price he paid. 

Sixteen months of searching, researching, meeting with the police, encouraged by Court officials to obtain  background information, reviewing the police report, seeking witness statements, and for what?   On the day it mattered, the day you look to have your questions answered and your hopes raised that justice still prevails, merely two hours of shallow probing and tip-toeing around the perimeters of the case later, a bitter pill is to be swallowed when judgement is reached.  Let down by a system with such a narrow remit the devastation is immense and quite overwhelming.  One feels numb.  Oh that the Assistant Coroner had asked the police to re-investigate the case.  The only recourse one has is to take the matter to the High Court, a step slightly outside the purse of the ordinary man...

Over this weekend letters will be formulated and sent to the Chief Constable of Surrey Police, The Chief Coroner at Woking Coroners Court and possibly my local MP, Mr Michael Gove.

It is so easy to be bitter, resentful and brood for the rest of ones life, but where does that get you or those around you?  We all travel the road of life but once.  Having drawn a line under this 'BlackTuesday' and with the words 'Open Conclusion' now part of one's 'Baggage for life', it is time to move on, be it the road I have trodden for many years, or maybe a new road with a brighter horizon?   Who knows... 

What I do know is that I miss my son terribly.  I've sent text messages to his phone, a phone from which I will never receive a reply, but the fact that they do not bounce back is strangely comforting, so maybe he is reading them somewhere up there, for he will be 'Up there', wearing a Chelsea FC shirt and holding a glass of red wine accompanied by his grandparents.  I'll raise a glass tonight...

LOCKDOWN 2 - THE SEQUEL

 

                                                      LOCKDOWN 2 - THE SEQUEL

Although not as far ranging as its first incarnation, that is schools and universities will remain open, one has mixed memories of that period when queuing outside supermarkets became the "new normal."  Sadly, stores were taken unawares due to the public's innate sense of greed by not reacting quickly enough to panic buying.  Toiletries, toilet rolls, kitchen rolls, pasta, tinned tomatoes and a whole host of everyday items that in  'old normal' times would have been readily available, became highly-prized and highly-priced eBay commodities.  They would, of course, all been constantly stocked had some selfish bastard decided not to take ten packets of each.  

Overnight, traffic descended to levels unheard of since the seventies with High Streets becaming places of desertion, not seen since the last Hollywood blockbuster - or flatliner - predicting the mass annihilation of the human race - something for Mother Nature to look forward to, surely!  The irony of all this change was that whilst only food outlets and banks remained open, car parking was free in town centres across the nation - nowhere to shop, but at least you could gawp for free!  

Someone, I did read their name, but managed to hurriedly forget in double-quick time, suggested that the nation opens its doors and stands shoulder to shoulder, well, six foot six apart, and clap at 8 pm every Thursday evening in support of the NHS.  Anyone reading my books over the past 30 years will know of my genuine support for the health system, from my mother giving birth to now and my inherent disgust at the creeping privatisation that permeates our beloved NHS.  But why, oh why, do we wish to make special mention of those going about their daily - and chosen - occupation.

Rainbows appearing on placards, inside of windows, hoardings, buildings, Christ, nowhere was safe.  One week of clapping was enhanced over the course of time by kitchenware being used as drums with ladles  as sticks to beat them.  Why?  I sat in a darkened room, rocking in the foetal position, sucking my thumb and calling, "Mummy, mummy..."  until it was over for yet another week.  Black Thursday, I called it, although with Black Lives Mattering quite so much as it has in certain quarters, I will probably have to attend a 'Race awareness re-programming scheme' designed for white people of a certain age who remember freedom of speech and thought!  Black Friday will probably be renamed due to adverse and negative conclusions entertained by Guardian readers, Liberal Democrats and those confined within the  'Diversity-obsessed' Ivory Tower Establishment at the Beeb...  Just a thought!  The whole NHS flag-waving experience was enough to make a grown man consider counselling, such was the impact on one's mental ability to process such collective asinine behaviour.

Sadly, but not surprisingly, the "we're all in it together" attitude was holed very early on by politicians and a certain government adviser straining the public's confidence and their credibility.  Dominic Cummings' trip to Barnard Castle did little to endear him to the public or encourage their support.  Support we did, however, well, most of us.

With flights abroad cancelled and holidays with it, vast numbers took to the coast - any coast.  What a sad reflection on our society it was when being shown the residue debris, the rubbish, the faeces left behind by day-trippers over the summer months, post lockdown.  Like retarded lemmings they swamped the beaches, the fells, the tors, and the peaks.  Nowhere was left unsullied by human indecency.  The word "shameful" sounds inadequate.  I just wonder what their homes must be like.  They are probably palaces in comparison.  Wouldn't discard anything so freely there, probably use the their own toilet instead of the park, but the countryside and seaside appeared to be fair game - selfish bastards - doubtless the same selfish bastards who stripped the shelves bare during the preceding months?

But, as always, there are beacons of light.  One was that the Eurovision Song Contest was cancelled, which is usually another reason for locking oneself in a darkened room (refer to earlier comment for full details).  Charlton Athletic didn't lose a match for over three months, I mean, we didn't play, obviously, but we didn't lose - or even concede a goal.  And that's what matters, always look for the positives!

And so, we are in for another month of lockdown.  Can't go anywhere, nowhere to go, other than with the  mutt, three times a day minimum - what a close bond we have formed!  As somebody noted quite drily - the dustbin has gone out more than me.  I've just seen mention on television regarding Children in Need.  Oh, Gawd....  Who are these people who wish to sit in a bath full of cold baked beans for three hours - or is it days? - in order to encourage others to hand over their presumably hard-earned dosh to an unknown charity or cause?  Send a cheque anonymously and desist from your fifteen minutes of television glory and more importantly from boring the pants off me... please!  What's that?  Morrison's are to give a ten per cent discount to teachers during lockdown?  If anyone wants me I'm in the darkened room... See you anon.

AT LEAST THE REFERENDUM WAS STRAIGHTFORWARD... WASN'T IT?

              

                AT LEAST THE REFERENDUM WAS STRAIGHTFORWARD...  WASN'T IT?

For over forty years many citizens of this country have questioned our continuing membership of the EU.Why any nation state would wish to throw its lot in with a group of countries so diverse in culture and standards is beyond me.  Perhaps it had something to do with what those in power and their very close political and business allies got out of the very cloistered self-serving gravy train.  I may just be slightly cynical of course, but the public were sold the idea of a trade agreement that meant easier access for lorries taking exports to Western European nations and the similarly easy access back with imports.

So far, quite acceptable.  The problem is that as with all things self-serving, politicians cannot leave well alone.  I often wonder if support for our initial membership would have been quite so strong if mention had been made of easterly expansion to include Romania, Poland, Bulgaria, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Slovenia, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia.  The total population living in the UK  emanating from the aforementioned countries at the present time is (cue drum roll and trumpet fanfare) 1,750,000! And that is the disclosed figure, one can only guess at the reality of the migration.  Add this number to the French, German, Italian, Spanish et al who are legally here and you have the reason why so much of England's once green and pleasant land has been built upon.  And where has this camaraderie, this club-like fellowship, this 'We're all in it together' got us?  To be honest, not very far.  The English Channel is awash with migrants paddling their way across from France.  If only their boats were awash!  The French must be laughing all the way to their next drag of Gauloises! (Other brands are available)...

Every state puts its national interest first and foremost.  The French will always look after themselves in a very open, demonstrative way that I often wish the UK would learn from and not kow-tow to as we have done for over four decades. Then in 2015 there shone a beacon of light offering hope, false or otherwise? Yes, it was David Cameron at odds with the European establishment!  British demands, or the lack of them, wrapped in pro-EU gift paper and sold to the British public were considered enough to garner a majority.  Let's face it, he only offered the  referendum as he never thought he would lose.  Trips to Europe, talks late into the night, promises akin to Chamberlain returning from an evening with Adolf... but in the end it wasn't enough.  The British public didn't buy the deal.  The majority voted to leave and David Cameron took his  toys away and earned even more money on the speakers' circuit.  Good on him, but gutless all the same. 

For the next three years under Theresa May the country lurched rudderless from one referendum dispute to another.  The lack of a working majority contributed greatly to the problems, not helped by Mrs. May's disastrous campaign leading up to the 2017 election, when her majority was wiped out and the Good Ship SS United Kingdom became grounded on the European shelf, thanks to government ineptitude, Northern Irish doggedness and the bloody Liberal Democrats who were anything but, refusing to accept the result at the ballot box taken three years previously.  The Labour Party twisted and turned, before imploding in its own lack of direction and leadership... But hark?  Who is this I hear coming up fast on the nearside rails? Why, it is our democratic saviour! It is 'Our Boris'.  Another election and a chance to settle this ongoing sore once and for all.  Despite some Tory dissenters, cometh the hour they generally stick together.  The Labour Party was in disarray with many of their MP's committed Remainers and many ready to leave.  The problem was that they never consulted their traditional voters beforehand.  The continuing festering sore came in the form of the Liberal Democrats who proved that the one thing they were not was democratic.  Armed with a policy of overturning a decision made at the ballot box three years previous, their corporate, hypocritical, and mis-judged rallying call was led by their newly elected leader Jo Swinson - a young lady who sounded increasingly out of her depth as each week and tv exposure passed. I'm sure she'd make a very fine Akala, but a leading political leader?... I think not.  Neither, thank Christ did the voting public.  The Tories won with a very comfortable working majority, the Labour Party bloodied themselves in total despair and Ms Swinson lost her seat, resigned as leader of her party and I have heard nothing more of her since.  Perhaps she is honing up her knowledge of the word 'Democracy'. All that hype, all that publicity, all that self-belief and they end up with eleven seats! Who voted for them anyway?  I want their names and the chance to send them on a course on Basic Life Skills, then work up to 'Democracy' given time and their development of course!

Right, time for a cuppa and my good old standby for reading material when desirous of something comforting, factual and indisputable, garnished with not a small dollop of smugness and self-satisfaction. (5minutes later) Aaaaaahhhhhh... that's hit the spot... Tea, biccy and the Daily Telegraph, dated 13th December 2019 opened at page 4, column 8. Halfway down are the immortal words Dumbarton East election result;- Amy Callaghan 19,672, Jo Swinson 19,523.  It may be a close run election, but the SNP's very own Amy achieved a higher number of votes and was therefore elected.  The referendum on whether to remain or leave was based on exactly the same principle.  So please, Liberal Democrats, GET OVER IT, MOVE ON, and understand democracy...  the public do! 

 

COVID - NEED, FEED, AND GREED

                                                

                                                COVID  - NEED, FEED AND GREED

The very nature of Covid 19 surely means that governments worldwide need to protect its citizens.  I see no problem in asking the public to support any measures or actions designed to reduce risk and hopefully eradicate the virus.  The need to protect requires the need to support.  Why then do the likes of Piers Corbyn and the Massed Band of Irritating Ticks feel the need to openly protest in town and city centres flagrantly and provocatively breaching social distancing and mask wearing rules? Do they really believe all this social disruption is an inter-governmental plot in order to 'undermine civil liberties', 'the clamping down of human rights' or 'engaging in mass containment of thought and deed'?

There is no precedent, no government of any political persuasion that  could have known what to do at the start of the outbreak.  Hindsight is a wonderful thing, a bit like a vaccine, but it isn't available yet so rules must change with the circumstances as the situation unfolds and evolves.  Any political party can run the most efficient country when in opposition.  I am not the greatest supporter of either Boris nor the Tories in general, but the thought of a Labour Party in control is on a par with being in the company of Pol Pot,  Kim Jong-Un or any paid-up member of the Liberal Democrats!

The government should be supported and not be subjected to 'virus fatigue' or left-wing agitators spoiling for a fight - any fight that is!  We need to find the true source of this pandemic.  Where did it really start - a street market, a laboratory?  Was it an accident due to a lack of animal welfare, an experiment that got out of hand and into the system, or was it manufactured to create chaos within western economies?  Who knows, but I wouldn't bet against the latter!

We currently witness the social elite of the left sadly supported by certain soft-centred Tories clambering on the 'Poverty-stricken' bandwagon.  Oh how The Guardian and The Independent newspapers enjoy any attempt to shame-face the government into allowing free meals during half-term to those without... without what?  Food? Really...? Hundreds and hundreds of thousands of children are going to be, or are hungry in this country.  Where? How? And finally Why?  I would love to see an honest independent breakdown of the statistics so as to determine the true extent of such claims.  Good headlines for the left, students and teachers who positively immerse themselves in such drama, but who are we actually talking about.  I take it it's mainly those in the north, so who amongst this vast number of under-privileged, unfed and presumably unwashed actually worked before Covid?  How many stopped producing offspring prior to realising that expenses outweighed either genuinely earned income or social welfare?  As if this strain on the national debt  wasn't enough, along comes Marcus Rashford, footballer of a certain northern parish on his charger, leading the race to change policy and spend millions more of taxpayers' money on the feckless, the workshy and those with more rights than responsibility.  Bet they all possess the latest mobile phones, smoke heavily, drink to excess and still buy lottery tickets... and that is just the children! 

COVID AND ME PART 1 - PINING FOR THE GOOD TIMES

                                                          

                                      

                           COVID AND ME  PART 1 - PINING FOR THE GOOD TIMES

I alluded to house, garden and all remaining jobs being completed during the early throes of lockdown, it is now the period post-lockdown - or as they call it in the north, just another day - where thoughts of pleasant times not so long past raise their heads in one's memory bank.

In a world of economic uncertainty and social turmoil, oh how I yearn to be in my car, surrounded by drivers in the same predicament, as we wait... and wait... Ten miles of tailback and lengthening by the nano-second.  Within spitting distance of Erith to my left and Swanscombe to my right, both are inaccessible due to some selfish bastard in a BMW deciding to cut across an articulated lorry which has jack-knifed depositing it's cargo of chemicals over four lanes of the M25. Six fire engines and noxious fumes are only the start of the wait!

It is now 3.38pm, I arrived at this spot at 10.28am.  I've counted the minutes and noted the hours.  It hasn't been boring, there's the intake of carbon-monoxide emanating from all and sundry who hope that leaving their engine running will speed-up the clean-up - it's a comforting and heady concoction.  Whilst awaiting that moment when the overhead gantry's matrix changes from 'Long Delays' to "Congestion' there is opportunity to take in the actions of one's fellow travellers.  Some are busy on their phones - Fastbuck, Twatter, video-conferencing... (Actually, if my surname was Rix I'd have to call my son Matt) whilst others, like me, will still be arguing with Radio four - content, bias, diction, use of Americanisms - nothing changes and if it does, it's for the worse!  There is always ones own choice of music via the CD, Bluetooth or IPod and you can't argue with ELO or Alan Parsons Project - come plague, pestilence, pyrotechnics or merely a pile-up!

And so to the skies. Maybe a Kite?   No, not a prat at the end of a length of string, but a majestic bird swooping high within its domain... But sadly, sweeping low over the still-assembled vehicles floats the remains of a sandwich wrapper (marginally preferable to a north London rapper), a coffee cup, a crisp packet - or three... Travelling with and on the wind, they swirl as only flotsam can amongst Kent's finest litter.

Whilst all endure the relative silence that is fast becoming a way of life, a nonchalant glance across the concrete divide provides a scene us poor soles can only drool over.  Yes, you've got it!  Four lanes plus slip road full of free-flowing traffic rarely travelling below the speed of light!

Will the spillage soon be cleared?  Will all and not-a-little sundry make it to their destinations on time? Will I reach the Essex town for that talk at the WI before Jerusalem commences at 7.28pm - or even before the meeting finishes at 9.28pm?  For now, this scenario is but a dream, a longing...but one day...one day...

COVID PART 2  - NEED,  FEED AND GREED will appear later this week.

HELLO, I'M BACK!

                                                                HELLO, I'M BACK!

So, how are you on this blustery autumnal day?  It has been a while, seven years to be almost precise. Doesn't time fly when you're not enjoying yourself huh!

A warm welcome back to all those of you whose life has been on hold awaiting the latest post... or possibly finding something better to do such as actually enjoying life, and also to those of you who stumbled upon this site whilst surfing the Blogisphere.

This post is merely a 'Hello, I'm Back'... actually more of a 'Hello, I'm still alive' really, what with Covid 19  turning rapidly into Covid 20 and soon to morph into 21... 22... as the years progress.  Any excitement comes from guessing which American president will be in power at the appropriate moment in order to claim it was they who oversaw the antidote that saved the world from further harm and probably total annihilation. Messrs Trump and Biden...both in their seventies, one a maverick with a more than cavalier attitude to governing, and the other, an affable chap likened to a favourite uncle you'd expect to catch up with at a family christening, marriage or funeral, and probably in that order!   A population in excess of 300,000,000 people and they are the two choices! It's a strange world...

My work as a speaker - After-lunch, After-dinner and probably After-life - has all but evaporated and brewery tours suspended until?... As the Great Bard once noted - 'It's a right bugger and no mistake!"  With the foregoing in mind, a tidy garden, seats  and shed painted, summerhouse cleaned and the loft and garage cleared of years of non-collectable debris, I feel it's time to blow off the cobwebs of apathy and rekindle that zest... that enthusiasm... that desire to  converse with a world outside of the garden, a garden where only two families totalling six members at any one time can meet - or at least I think that's the current ruling.   Mind you, not sure why there are any rules appertaining to Guildford and district as I'm pretty sure possessing a GU postcode brings with it automatic immunity from pandemics originating from far-flung foreign climes.   I don't know of anyone who has had the sniffles let alone a full-blown cough, temperature etc.  I mean, they're not the sort of symptoms one witnesses in west Surrey  -  certainly can't see it being tolerated in Farnham, perish the thought...

Over the coming days and weeks we'll be ruminating and cogitating over aspects of modern life such as "Black lives mattering', Britain's on-going battle for 'Freedom from Europe', Prince Andrew and his transatlantic assignations, Foreign Aid - and why we give it!, Bias at the BBC, Slavery, Grammar and diction - or the lack of it...  not to mention the Scourge of British roads - yes... cyclists!!

Right, well, that's worn out the index finger on my typing hand, so a cuppa is the order of the day.

Until we meet again, Wednesday probably... Bye for now.