Were you as embarrassed as me? I didn't follow the details of 'Empress' Merkel's visit this week, it was simply too, too, embarrassing. The sight of our tall prime minister in effect leaning over this little German dumpling (with a Krupps steel centre!) and covering her in lick-spittle was positively sick-making! Her occasional dimpled smiles which never seemed to reach her eyes was enough to tell me that she thought all this high falutin' nonsense, including tea with Her Maj, was uncalled for. And worst of all, it was all for nothing! Yes, she'd like the UK to remain inside the EU but she isn't going to lift much more than a little finger to help if the alternative is the effective dismantling of an apparat that she runs to Germany's benefit!
Time for Dr. North's cold shower: Yes, indeed, if you need an icy, northern blast to blow away the bullshit on Europe, he, and Christopher Booker in The Telegraph, are the ones to provide it. I will not attempt to paraphrase, Dr. North's words are short, brutal and true:
Nothing should have been remotely surprising about this encounter. As Booker has often tried to explain – ever since Mr Cameron came up with his notion, a year ago, that he could somehow hope to negotiate a new relationship for Britain with the EU, then put it to a referendum in 2017 – every point on his wish list was just pie in the sky.
It defied every bedrock principle of how the EU works: that, once powers of government are handed over to Brussels, they cannot be given back; that, under Article 48 of the Lisbon Treaty, he would never get the required majority from 27 other countries allowing him to negotiate; that the tortuous procedures now laid down for such a new treaty could not possibly be completed by 2017.
In other words, those millions of words that in the past year have been spoken and written by pretty well every politician and pundit one can think of have been devoted to discussing something that could never possibly have come about in the first place – as Mrs Merkel confirmed on Thursday.
'End of', as they say these days!
More 'Carps' and 'Plods': Yes, I know the titles to my posts are making this blog resemble The Times crossword but it is necesary to keep you all up on your toes! I refer, of course, to the second episode of True Detective which might be renamed more accurately as 'True Defective' since both the 'carps' concerned are seriously, shall we say, maladjusted! I'm beginning to tune in to the Louisana accents and happily as this is a slow moving tale I am just about keeping up. At the other end of the spectrum we have the 'plods' doing what passes for their duty in this modern age in the superb - and I do mean absolutely excellent! - series Line of Duty. I am chastened to find out that this is the second series - how could I have missed the first? However, all is not lost, there is a box-set available and I have a birthday coming up!!!!!
'I kant reed peetur itchins': Well, it's not so much that I can't read him as I don't read him because, dammit, it's like talking to myself because most of what he writes I agree with and, double dammit, he writes it so much better than me! Take his piece today on so-called 'dyslexia'. Like him, I have long harboured deep suspicions concerning this 'condition' which seems, like most psycho-babble terms, to be beyond scientific definition. Today, he points at the real culprits in this disgraceful cop-out in our education service - the useless teachers and their equally useless methods of teaching children to read and write. Give it a read!
Just to cheer you up: As you know it is part of the mission statement for this blog to keep my reader all my readers happy. Actually, this mini-post made me happy, too, because every morning as I drive to the swimming-pool - er, have I mentioned that I go swimming five mornings a week - oh, take that as a 'yes', shall I? - I pass an entrance into a farmer's field, or probably several fields, which has an enormous number of construction lorries parked on or near it. I paused the other day and asked one of the workers what was going on. "A solar panels 'farm'", he answered. The fact that it hasn't stopped raining since they began was too obvious a remark to make so I left him to it and drove off grinding my teeth because, of course, I am paying a hefty subsidy to that con trick! However, I am cheered up today by a piece over at WUWT which indicates that the gravy train for so-called 'renewables' is coming off the rails. Here is the main diagram you can read the why and wherefors over at Anthony Watts' excellent site:
The Secret of the Voynich Manuscript: Sounds like another book from that execrable scribbler of daft and eye-stabbingly tedious yarns, Dan Brown, but in fact the Voynich Manuscript is all too real:
So, there it is, take a look, hold it up this way and then that way, spend the rest of your life studying what passes for its 'text' and trying to decipher it and then you, too, could join the exalted ranks of what I call 'The Voynich Nutters'! Why can't people be satisfied just doing The Times crossword, it's kept 'DM' off the streets for decades!
Yes I know he's a marine, but still . . . Never let it be said that this blog is, er, 'Marinist' even if I am typing this through clenched teeth - yes, I know, mixed metaphors and all that. Anyway, here he is:
Yes, indeed, there he is, your typical tough, Brit marine called, er, well, Arben Islami, actually, and he's an Albanian from Kosovo! Apparently he was 14-years old and living in Kosovo when the Royal Marines arrived to keep the Serbs from butchering every Albanian they could lay their hands on. Young Arben was much taken with the Marines he saw - well, he was very young! - and determined that one day he would join their ranks. Eventually, he made it into Britain, took British citizenship, joined up and managed to pass their 'easy-peasy' selection course - which, of course, is not a patch on the one the Paras have to take! I jest, of course, because 30-mile yomps over Dartmoor are not for the faint of heart. He's a reservist now, works as a bricklayer and is about to be married. So amongst all the SHLOCK-HORROR east European immigrant stories, his tale is worth the telling. Well done, Marine Islami, and you are very welcome to this country.
Out of puff: Sorry, sorry, hard to believe with an old windbag like me but I've run out of things to say at which point it is usually wise to say nothing! See you in the morning and I have a particularly ripe set of 'Funnies' for you.