WHEN 'DELTA' REPLACED 'INDIAN'

 

                                                WHEN 'DELTA' REPLACED 'INDIAN'

Delta!  The new, politically-correct name for Indian, a well-known variant brought to you by the Covid family.  We've had the Kent version, now re-named Alpha, Brazil's offering is now Gamma, while South Africa chimes in with good old Beta.  It's interesting to note that nobody worried about the latter three being associated with two countries and an English county - as it happens, the 'Garden of England' - but India!  Living in Surrey, a county bordering Kent, I didn't descend into panic mode and not cross the border.  I didn't sue for compensation and trauma.  I know many a 'Man of Kent'...  and many a 'Kentish Man' come to think of it.  Mind you, they are what I'd call 'proper people' born and bred in 'Sarf East London' in the days when most of it was still Kent. 

Suddenly, a new strain appears on the Asian horizon and all hell breaks loose at the World Health Organisation.  You can just imagine a gaggle of Head Office headless chickens running about in panic as the realisation that the very origin of this latest variant could cause an outbreak of anti-Indian sentiment in far-flung overseas Indian territories such as the north-west of England for instance!  

Who do the WHO think we true Brits are?  We are no more likely to mutter a word of anti-Indian criticism or comment, for as a nation we've been programmed to accept colonisation by the migrant masses for decades.   It's what we do best, we accept.  We are a nation of acceptors.  We might grumble at home to loved ones who have witnessed Britain's diverse decline and are of a like mind, but speak publicly of fears and concerns? Only at the ballot box during the referendum did we see the public express its dissatisfaction with Britain's lot.  Sadly we, the present generation, ironically pays the price for our colonial forebears who landed on continental shores two to three hundred years ago and left us to pay for it by way of what some would  describe as 'ethnic communities' and which  many more would consider 'ghettos'. 

It isn't without coincidence that many north west towns in Lancashire and those previously within that once beautiful county and now enmeshed within the sprawling metropolis that is Manchester, have shown an inordinate increase in Covid cases.  Bedford, Luton, Slough, Reading, the 'Republic of East London' and many more towns and areas densely populated with Asians have all recorded spikes in cases, enough nationally to put back the end of lockdown while denying millions of community-spirited and responsible people from resuming their work after fifteen months of enforced lay-off!  But that's OK, everyone has rights.  Everyone has the right to say 'No' to a vaccination thus depriving themselves of protection and more importantly, others who they will undoubtably contaminate.  

The Government should make it a lot tougher, a lot more difficult to say 'No'.  I'd like to see a public proclamation stating the rights of the individual versus the penalty for nonconformity.  This would include the inability to work as it would be a condition of employment that full vaccination had taken place.  No jabs - no job!  There would be a complete withdrawal of all welfare benefits as it was the lack of action from a stubborn, selfish sod who decided to put him or herself in this position in the first place.  Admittance to any shop, leisure activity, museum, pub... in fact any outdoor pursuit would be prohibited.  In essence, one would be grounded, confined to a ghetto, literally ring-fenced by bricks, mortar and quite possibly flammable cladding.  The only travel allowed would be via a one way flight to a destination of our Government's choice, namely the country that gave its name to the variant in the first place.  Hopefully a huge dollop of humble pie would be eaten and not a little reality finally kicking in with others of a similarly selfish ilk also signing up for a jab - or two.  

What fools we are to put up with such dissent by those from an ethnic background who fail to accept our science or culture.  What fools we are to equally put up with the dross that spreads misinformation about the virus, in all its forms.  Do they really not believe what has happened worldwide over the past year and a quarter?  That the virus hasn't 'taken out' those who contribute little to humanity and all that goes with it is a real bugger, and not a tad disappointing if I'm honest, but that's life... or possibly death if you fail your fellow man - or woman, obviously!

THE CHESHAM AND AMERSHAM BY-ELECTION - AN INTERESTING RESULT

 

          THE CHESHAM AND AMERSHAM BY-ELECTION - AN INTERESTING RESULT 

This was a previously safe Tory seat although the party had been haemorrhaging votes over the past two elections in 2017 and 2019.  The constituency's seemingly popular MP, one Cheryl Gillan, achieved 33,514 votes in 2017.  That equated to 60.7 per cent of the total votes cast.  In 2019 the lady attained 30,850 votes, equal to 55.4 per cent.  

Her death brought about last weeks by-election where the Tory candidate polled a miserable 13,489 votes (35.5 per cent)  coming second to the Liberal Democrats who are probably preparing for government. They certainly would be if the now somewhat discredited David Steel was still at the party's helm!

Often the second largest party nationally takes advantage of a mid-term opportunity, but Chesham and Amersham  is not what you'd call traditional Labour territory.   It is Bucks not Bolton, very little in the way of ferrets, cloth caps and ghettos.  It has green rolling countryside... or rather it has green rolling countryside that is being built upon at a vast rate of knots.  As elsewhere in the south-east of England, county councils are under extreme government pressure to build anywhere - everywhere!  We are fools, we destroy the very reasons people moved to these towns and villages in the first place.  There is no joined-up thinking in government policy regarding house-building, merely joined-up towns. 

The Tories may well poo-poo this result but the writing was on the wall during the recent local elections when they lost many council seats to the Lib-Dems.  The irony of that lies within that party's wider policies of  relaxing immigration and refugee laws should that 'bastion of Remainers' ever get into power.  How many houses would we need for them?   The country is steeling itself for the next invasion from Hong Kong, it's only a matter of time, and where do we put all of them - their offspring, their parents, their grandparents, their Aunt Fanny Hoo Poo who is once removed twice over in the family pecking order but cannot be left behind!

This constituency is also suffering great upheaval and change brought about by the ridiculous HS2 project. Indeed, only today it was mentioned in the papers for no worse reason than its cost has just risen by another 1.6 billion pounds.  This is an added bone of contention to the local non-yokels and another reason for dissent, for protest, for voting tactically and giving a bloody nose to those who fail to listen.

Whilst the Lib-Dems crow their success it has to be noted that even though locally the party is against HS2, nationally they support it.  So what would happen if False God forbid, they ever did achieve power?  Well, national policy trumps local every time, so the destruction would continue - only with more allotted space for social housing.

What is significant is the dramatic fall in the Labour Party vote.  As mentioned above, it is not a 'Red Wall' area, but back in 2017 Labour amassed 11,374 votes (20.6 per cent) coming second, in 2019 their vote was 7,166 (12.9 per cent) coming third.  Last week they scrambled 622 votes, coming fourth after the Greens (1.1 per cent).  To rub salt into their unknown policy wounds the Labour Party ended up with less than half of the Green Party's haul of 1.480 votes (1.6 per cent), which in itself is pretty abysmal!

We have Batley and Spen, a true 'Red Wall' constituency by-election coming up next week.  'Ee by 'eck as like, that should make reet good reading and no mistake...  Now where's that ferret?

AN ALTERNATIVE PHONETIC CODE

 

                                          AN ALTERNATIVE PHONETIC CODE

Whist walking the dog yesterday and thinking of aspects of life not considered for at least an hour, I contemplated a new phonetic code designed with more than a nod towards England's left-leaning universities and their mealy-mouthed, unforgiving, vexatious students.

So, with the above in mind here goes!

A - Albion   (Britain in ancient times when the population was British)        

B - Boy   (One of only two sexes)

C - Colonial   or   Colston   (Either should inflame their lack of senses...)

D - Democracy   (Not a word they understand or encourage)

E - Empire   or   England    (See C)

F - Far-Right  (A way of thinking engendered by their blinkered views!)

G -  Girl   (The only other sex)   or   Genocide  (Underrated means of reducing population growth)

H - Homophobia  (A word used to slate an opposite viewpoint or opinion)

I - Indian   (Name of a Covid19 variant until the WHO changed it to 'Delta' as a sop to racial harmony)

J - Jeopardy  (Where their lobbying and protesting is putting democracy)

K - Killjoy   (Blanket description of these miserable, obsessed scrotes)

L - Lee   (As in Robert E...)   or   Limp   (As in 'wristed')

M - Migrant   (Not a term used - or indeed required -  in the Albion of yore)

N - Neurotic  (Hopefully their pain will cease when they reach 35, own a house and vote Tory!)

O - Obnoxious   (How 'normal' people perceive them)

P - Pander   (What University Chancellors and Dons do to these paragons of virtual dictatorship)   

Q - Queer   (How many students see themselves - and coincidentally how we see them too!)

R - Rhodesia   or   Rhodes.  (See C... again!)

S - Slavery   (C above... Sorry, See above!)

T - Territories   (See E... See also LMS Jubilee Class locomotives for a wide range of former territories)

U - United Kingdom   (What can never be bettered yet they seek to destroy!)

V - Victim.  (Term used to describe the unwashed, the unemployable, the socially deprived and depraved)

W - White   (Needs no explanation...)

X - Xenophobia   (See H)

Y - Yam Yam   (Never forget the Black Country... or re-visit!)

Z - Zealot   (Term used to describe the 'Left-of-Corbyn students permeating Britain's universities. These thoughtless - for they are thoughtless - activists heralding from both our shores and  former colonies are hell-bent on undermining the fabric and history of this country using literally destructive methods in order to achieve their goals.  See D!)

I enjoyed doing that and I will use it when and as required. After all where would the world be without a bit of light-hearted fun and banter?  Oh yes, ruled by those 'bright young things' with an excess of intelligence and a complete lack of proportion and common sense.

THE SOMEWHAT IGNORANT MR. FERDINAND

                                      

                                   THE SOMEWHAT IGNORANT MR. FERDINAND

The Mr. Ferdinand in question is an ex-footballer.  First name Rio, he has taken a swipe at those attending England football matches who have had the effrontery to boo as England players go down on one knee in order to pay homage to black superiority.  Now I know that is not what was and is intended by this action, but that is exactly how it is perceived by many.  

Before I move on to the main thrust of this post, I feel the need to air a thought, I wonder how/why he ended up being called Rio?  Was it after Grande, perhaps somebody in his family liked the film of the same name.  Was he conceived there maybe on a family holiday?  Rio de Janeiro could be worth a punt... or did relatives have shares in Rio Tinto Zinc?  The possibilities are destined to run out soon, so I'll quit while I'm behind.

Right, on with the 'thrust'.  If I were to attend a match, be it an England game, a Premier League or a EFL match and players went about this divisive action before kick-off I would be booing as loudly as my ageing lungs could muster.  Does that make me and all who boo racist?  In the eyes of those with the giant shoulder chip, of course it does, but the retort goes a lot deeper than a mere vocal reaction.   It is the white man's cry against the systematic and continuous assault on our society by an influential, vocal and biased BABC on an everyday basis. Then there are programme makers, news editors, advertisers, film makers,  educationalists,  charities, support groups and protest groups  to name but a few, all putting in their four pennyworth of drip-fed black issues.  Everywhere you turn it's a case of black this and black that.  Oh the poverty, oh the deprivation, oh the unfairness of living in England.  The weight of that black shoulder chip is never mentioned in any programme, but then nothing is debated when dealing with race - or as many see it, England's teflon-coated vociferous and not-so-small minority problem.

Rio Ferdinand suggests that those who boo are 'ignorant and should be educated'.  Coming from a spokesperson who purports to represent a race of people whose own anti-social activities are historically known to be extremely dubious - murder, knife crimes, assaults, robberies, drug running... one could go on - I find his comment regarding 'white education' to be a bit rich!

If the pandemic had not been around and crowds were swelling the turnstiles at matches both national and international, I'm certain Mr. F would have had a far greater number of candidates up for re-education.  It would have shown exactly what we thought of this ridiculous posturing.  It certainly isn't gaining newly-converted friends from the white majority, they just feel bereft of identity and voice.  

Note to the latest flag-bearing whinger:  Put yourself, if you will, in the mind of someone who is white and a true native of our once glorious country.  You and your ilk collectively fail to understand that by harping on about 'Black lives mattering' you are excluding the (still) majority of the population in their own country. You sir, are insulting the natives!  If it was a case of  'All lives mattering', irritating as the slogan would be, at least true Englishmen and women would feel included and not completely isolated whilst all focus is on those whose colour is non-white!

Footnote:  Last night an acquaintance sent me a caption and photo for my amusement and sanity.  The caption reads 'BBC announce remake of 101 Dalmatians'.  The photo is of a black Labrador!  Says it all really!  Hang on, the door bell has rung, it's the Thought Police!  Alright, I made it up, it was actually the post lady, but how long will it be before a racial quip is not monitored online by 'The Establishment' and one is carted off for re-programming before you can say 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry 'before grovelling at the feet (kneeling) of the fully armed 'Race Protection Officer'?  Free speech is akin to a precious stone in need of polishing and restoration so as to be appreciated and respected by all! 

THE END OF AN ERA - FROM BBC TO BABC!

 

                                  THE END OF AN ERA - FROM BBC TO BABC!

I renamed the British Broadcasting Corporation the 'Black and Asian Broadcasting Corporation' some four years ago when writing 'In Bed With A. Mann'.  Whether it was Part 1 or 2  is up for debate, I remember not, but the point was made. The BBC were starting to irritate not just me, but many white viewers. 

Black lives apparently mattering more than white, colonialism and imperialism both up for awards in the 'What can we hate next?' category and the BEEB's obsession with minorities has seen a once familiar and friendly family member morph into a distant relative with which I have very little in common.

Today sees the final vestiges of the football season come to an end.  At 3pm Morecombe will play Newport County, the victor gaining promotion to League 1 (Division 3 as was).  And so it is over until the new season kicks off in around three months' time -  a further Covid lockdown notwithstanding.  The pleasure of Football Focus and the Saturday afternoon update service on Radio 5 via the Red Button are now but a recent memory, as is Match of the day.  Football Focus was hosted for some ten years or so by Dan Walker, an amiable chap who played the role of anchorman without hype or brashness.  He was easy on the eye and ear.  All change!  I know not whether it was his choice to leave or whether he was pushed out, but his replacement is a black ex-football playing female, which ticks two boxes in one promotion. 

Frankly, I do not wish to listen to a female talking about men's football.  I have absolutely no problem with women discussing,  playing the game or partaking as a pundit,  providing it's woman football.  Slightly partisan, you may ask, and yes, that view could be formed, though I never had that problem with Gabby Logan! Why? Well for one she speaks well, does not drop her 'H's or 'T's.  On consecutive Saturday afternoons earlier this month neither the anchorman - for he was a man - nor the two pundits were white. The score read Black sports presenters 3 - White sports presenters 0.  I know I have mentioned this before but when the BABC do put a white female on as a pundit they invariably choose that dreadful Karen Carney whose command of diction is appalling.  The black male presenters are equally lacking, but they are black and that is the holy grail as far as the Corporation is concerned.  MOTD is no different.  I wonder how long Gary Lineker will continue to hold court?  He is so often the only white face at the desk, presiding over two black pundits who exclaim 'Penal'y', 'Missed opportuni'y', 'posi'ive', 'ge'in' (getting), 'li'le' (little), 'quali'y', 'coun'er'.  Quantity over quality, it's a race to the bottom in the name of race!

Away from football Eamonn Holmes and his other half have been replaced on daytime TV by a black female presenter.  A black male and female now host a game show so I've been informed.  The London news segment has a far greater ratio of black and Asian presenters than truly represents the population at large.  From Countryfile to Bargain Hunt they have sprung a number of ethnic presenters onto previously white middle-class programmes watched by white middle-class viewers.  Far from the heady days of James Braxton, James Lewis and David Harper, a chap called Danny Sebastian is now treading the boards, so to speak.  A tall, pleasant enough black chap, but does he really have to don a ridiculous bowler hat with a feather?  Is that his style of attire - in which case the man is a complete arse - or is it a'whizz' idea by the stage managers?  Either way, I now choose which episodes to watch...  Dragons Den will, from the next series have a new dragon, a black chap who has made a fortune by some means or other.  He will make his mark apparently by not wearing a suit!  Why?  Would a suit not fit due to an excessive shoulder chip?  

The white viewer is made to feel guilty at every stage of BABC commissioning.  Switch on the TV and there is a trailer informing the viewer of a forthcoming programme on Black music, Black subjugation, Black history, Black lack-of-history, the 'Windrush' debacle, sub-standard  black schooling and institutional racism, and on it goes...drip... drip... drip... Does it make the white viewer contrite, remorseful or grief-stricken for alleged unfairness at best and hatred at worst?  Does it buggery!  If the ordinary man in the street and park that I speak to is anything to go by, it just makes people resentful, angry that so many chips can be counted on so many shoulders and all singing the final verse from the 'White man's lament' which reads: 'If you don't like our ways or our traditions and past, GO! LEAVE! Interesting of course is that the teflon-coated ones never do, they merely wreak havoc with our society.

The BABC are not alone, the commercial stations are just as determined to drive away their basic white audience. Virtually every advert has a black/mixed-race family on show or a lesbian/homosexual couple happily playing their part in destroying the social balance, forcing it down the gullet of the viewer.  I feel I know what it's like to be a duck force fed its diet prior to being served up as foie  gras! Channel 5 are running a programme this week on Anne Boleyn, the leading role played by a black actress - Why?  They must feel so proud that once again they have tipped reality upside down and shocked middle England.  I've said this before but would a white Othello be allowed to enter stage left?  I very much doubt it!  What is good for the black goose is not always good for the white gander.

So, farewell MOTD, Football Focus, Football Update, Countryfile and any future programme that doesn't include a greater commitment to white actors and presenters.  I'm not holding out much hope obviously, so Talking Pictures and Yesterday will be my regular programmes for good, traditional British films when Black and White held sway, but in a manner befitting a nation that was yet to become a hotch-potch of  diversity and social breakdown.  By Christ have we paid a heavy price for our colonial past. The laugh is that my generation never garnered any benefit from the acts of our forefathers, we came under heavy and relentless fire because of them!  Still, as a fellow dog walker lamented only the other day 'I never thought I could feel so disconnected with my own country in front of my own television!'  Says it all really...

YOU NEED TO SEE A DOCTOR? YOU'RE JOKING!

 

                                      YOU NEED TO SEE A DOCTOR?  YOU'RE JOKING!

I was informed by a very pleasant Boots pharmacist that my being diabetic prevented him from recommending an ointment for a corn.  I took note of his advice, which entailed what formerly was a very simple operation.  No, not one on the affected toe, but a phone call to the local surgery in order to see a doctor.

Back in the good old days when the 'Service' in National Health Service meant exactly what it said on the tin - in respect of booking an appointment - you simply rang 'The doctors'.  Consolidation,  changes in care policy and cutbacks produced 'Practices' and 'Surgeries'.  These in turn became 'Health Centres', and with every move forward, service went backwards.  Not the service given by a doctor, but the service, or lack of it, you received, and continue to receive from what were formally known as 'Receptionists', and are now unofficially, but very accurately described by most patients as 'Gatekeepers'!  You struggle to get past the buggers!

The act of communication with my Health Centre is akin to visiting post offices in order to tax your car.  It was always a relief when the errand had been fulfilled and the transaction completed. You felt a real sense of achievement as you metaphorically skipped back to your car, disc in hand whistling a happy tune and basking in the success of another years hassle-free motoring.  Sadly, whilst taxing your car on-line has taken the stress out of queuing, the stress of the inevitable clashing of patient against gatekeeper becomes evermore tense.

"Ring your doctor' the pharmacist advised, an ordeal in the making if ever there was one and seemingly with a cast of thousands.  It was Monday afternoon, the week before last that I first attempted communication with a gatekeeper.  My call was met by a robotic voice harping on at length about Covid 19 and how help and information could be found on the appropriate website.  There followed a female voice advising anyone who had the audacity to ring for an appointment that the centre was extremely busy and doctors were only dealing with what she termed 'emergency cases'.  From there another pre-recorded female voice offered four alternatives.  Press 1 for an appointment, 2 for prescriptions, 3 for test results and 4 for referrals.  I pressed  number 1 regardless of the previous warning and waited patiently as I travelled my journey from No. 13 in the queue over a twenty-eight minute period to the now enticing position where the irritating robot informed me that I was 'number one in the queue, waiting to speak to a representative'.   Out of interest, it matters not which number you press as they all go through to the same person who happens to pick up the phone.  So much for four options!

Vying for  position of 'Top Dog' in the 'Irritation Handicap Stakes' along with the robot was the music that accompanied my journey, my experience... my bloody frustration!  When I eventually heard a 'live' female voice, my relief was palpable, a real person,  This experience was  similar to traipsing across a dessert for a week under a burning sun and then espying an oasis... I explained that it was only a corn, my first in over seventy-three years on this planet, however my attempts to find a solution via our good friend at Boots had elicited a request to seek doctorial advice due to my being diabetic. Whilst I never expected to see a doctor that afternoon, I could see no valid reason why an appointment couldn't be made for the following day, or even the day after that. No! Not on your life, No way. A discussion ensued regarding the length of time it took to answer the phone, the lack of flexibility and the fact that everything is skewed towards and for the benefit of those behind the glass-fronted reception 'wall'  It was at this point that the gatekeeper, with all the charm of a disgruntled scorpion wrapped up the conversation from her end and replaced her handset leaving me speaking to no-one in particular, or more precisely no-one at all. I cannot abide rudeness. Twenty-three minutes later, the same format and rigmarole saw me talking to another gatekeeper. She explained that with not enough doctors, not enough gatekeepers ( she used the term 'receptionists', but we know!) and 30,000 patients  on their books it is no longer possible for appointments to be made for another day.  Unbelievable!

I rang back, I do not give up easily, and after fifteen minutes spoke to another, more civil gatekeeper who reiterated the scorpion's comments regarding the statistics adding 'There's nothing more we can do about it really, it's the system.'  My argument that someone actually instigates the system, not a computer, got me nowhere save an offer for the Practice Manager to give me a call that afternoon.  Safe to say, three hours elapsed and guess what? That's right, bugger all.  I did catch up with her midweek, but apparently there had been a breakdown in communication. She mentioned the same statistics and system so that's obviously the party line whipped out for all and sundry complainants. Oh well...

Everything is on the side of the surgery - let's call it that.  All they do is pick up the next call, it matters not a jot to them how long the poor sod has waited on the end of the line listening to the excruciating music interspersed with the asinine comments and forlorn hope of ever making human contact again.  I actually managed to get the gatekeeper to ask a doctor to ring me and  he did, that evening.  I told him there would be a whole generation of newly-qualified doctors who will never see a patient in the flesh.  All consultations will be virtual. With youngsters living in a world of social media, virtual friends and little real social contact, the thought of new GP's gaining experience from actually seeing patients sat opposite them on the other side of the desk and getting to know them will soon be a thing of the past. So much for that 'Caring Society' we read about! 

Funnily enough,  the doctor seemed to listen to my concerns as a patient and booked me an appointment for the Wednesday morning with a diabetic nurse to check my toe. Why couldn't the gatekeeper have done that in the first place. 

Upshot of it all,  'cause I know your'e eager to learn,  is that a pumice stone and plaster along with a watchful eye should sort the problem. I was also informed that the pain I was suffering, pain that was far greater than childbirth, obviously, would dissipate and I should recover and continue to live a fairly healthy and increasingly grumpy existence,  pining for the 'Good Old Days' and reminding all who care to listen - and those who don't! - that 'Receptionists used to work on behalf of the patient, not the other way round!'.

Right, a cuppa and change of plaster beckons. Until my next surgery encounter - Cheers!

PS:  As of this morning you can no longer queue when you ring to make an appointment for a doctor to call you.  A robotic voice informs you that in order to save you time by queuing you need to ring back later, when you will be queuing once more!  If ever a system needed surgical intervention, it's this one!

FOR MINORITIES, EVERY DAY IS A 'SPECIAL DAY'.

 

                                  FOR MINORITIES, EVERY DAY IS A 'SPECIAL DAY'.

Sadly, there is an increasing number of activists in this country.  Lawful and peaceful protests are one thing, stopping officials going about their business is another.  What should be seen and reported as a disgraceful waste of police time and expense is seen by a Guardian reporter  as a 'Special Day'.  

Libby Brooks, the paper's Scotland correspondent told her story in Friday's edition.  What glee she seems to take from the knowledge that an immigration enforcement van was stopped in its tracks by baying mobs intent on releasing two men suspected of immigration offences.   This Libby character (is it short for Liberal?) is obviously not on the side of law and order, but heavily backs disruption and mayhem.  Writing for The Guardian is, of course, an ideal outlet for such wayward, anti-society, left-wing sympathies.  So much so in fact that the poor misguided lady can no longer see the migrant wood for the indigenous trees.

Crowds of 'locals' - I use the word extremely loosely - commenced their intimidating action in Glasgow's southside at 9am with the stand-off lasting a full eight hours before the  'Southside 2', as I think of them, were freed and by Friday were receiving advice from asylum support groups - well they would be, wouldn't they!  Some complete arse who goes by the name of 'Van Man' crawled under the enforcement vehicle for much of the day in order to discourage movement.  What soft fools we are!  I'd have given him a very generous five minutes to 'get out and bugger off before the vehicle moves on'.  It would then have been his choice, and it is all about choices, as to whether he lived to irritate and disrupt come another day, or be a road fatality.  It really wouldn't have bothered me one way or another... though I do have a slight preference.  Hmmm... I wonder if he works?

All over the country there are legal eagles, asylum support groups, minority rights groups all there at the sniff of a deportation ready to grind our laws into the dust - bastards!  Getting back to the 'Scottish Skirmish', there was a translator called Declan Blench who sat behind the van to stop it from reversing - same rules would apply to him as they would to Van Man if common  sense were ever to be taken into account.  A lawyer by the name of Aamer Anwar described the heavy police presence as 'inflammatory and provocative'.  Thats rich!  He then goes on to add that he 'couldn't believe that the Home Office had done this on one of the holiest days in the Muslim calendar'.  Let me set you right on this, Mr Anwar, there are people who live outside your ethnic and white supported bubble. They are called the general population who couldn't give a flying fig about any ethnic 'holy day'.  All you have done is to tie up an already overstretched police force in order to free two men who should by now be in secure accommodation whilst the rights and wrongs of their case is discussed in a lawful manner.

Imagine sir, if you will, the joy, the adrenaline rush that comes when we, the native, and constantly under-fire white, far-sighted resident of these isles hear or read of another plane load being deported for varying reasons.  It's music to our ears,  dear boy,  pure music....

It comes back as always to the choices we discussed earlier.  If you don't like how we do things in OUR country, you don't have to stay, which for many of your ilk would be our preference... given the choice that is!