DUFF & NONSENSE!

Happy New Year? You must be joking!

At this time of year one is reminded that in the pantheon of illustrious British philosophers, one man alone stands supreme - Pte. Fraser - he, of the immortal words, "We're all doomed!"  Well, to be fair, I thought that a year ago which is why I pulled my modest investments out of the FTSE 100, only to watch the market fly up, up and away.  Story of my life, I thought!  So, I was wrong then but, if it's possible, I'm even more gloomy now.

The most immediate threat remains Iran and its nuclear ambitions.  I have no idea how far the Iranians have progressed but 'I know a man who does', or rather, I know of some men who do - the Israeli Intelligence Service.  If and when they are satisfied that the Iranians are 'a real and present danger', they will strike.  There is absolutely no doubt about that because the Jews know all too well what savagery can be visited upon them by people determined to wipe them from the face of the earth. 

When they strike, of course, the Iranians will slam shut the Straits of Hormuz  and stop the flow of oil.  Recession in the West will be immediate. In particular, Britain will really suffer because once the economic growth, which has taken place despite,  not because of, 'ur wee Gordie Broon' , goes into reverse, the mammoth ill-effects of the profligacy and deceit of this unbelievably sly and stupid man will smash into all of us. (Still, it's an ill wind that doesn't blow down some-one else's house, and as I am definitely into cash, I will be well placed to buy a few stocks in the bargain basement.)

Oddly enough, I am not too worried about Iraq.  We'll pull out in a few months declaring a victory(!)  and they will then get on to the serious business of slaughtering each other.  If rumours are true that the Saudis intend to help their co-religionists, the Sunnis, against Iranian-backed Shias, then so be it, they can knock six bells out of each other as far as I'm concerned, and anyway, in the event of a war, we should pick up some more decent arms orders from the Saudis.  (What was that noise?  Oh, it's only 'Ratty' fainting with shock!)

As for this 'scepter'd Isle', well, search as hard as I can, I see not even a glimmer of hope.  'Ur wee Gordie Broon' will become prime minister and, at last, be unmasked as a bigger liar than Blair.  He should have been disgraced years ago but hardly anyone understands economics and so most people are unaware of what a shyster the man is - but they will soon learn, the hard way!  Because the self-styled 'decent' politicians of the centre are now viewed by a majority of the electorate with bleak disappointment (putting it mildly), you can expect to see a resurgence of the 'indecent' politicians from the fringes.  The so-called 'working class' will switch to the BNP, the semi-educated 'soppies' from the middle class will go Green, and a large number of traditional Tories will support UKIP.  The fact that we will, in the coming year, be forced to pay for these wretched  political poltroons plus the pecksniffs and pox-doctor's clerks who feed like leeches from the teats on the body politic and have the effrontery to describe themselves as 'advisers', will simply add to the public disgust and move us all irrevocably towards anyone who will promise to put and end to the corruption.

Meanwhile, back at the international 'farm', yet another menace is already sending danger signals.  Putin's Russia is cash rich from its gas and oil.  The place is run by a bunch of ambitious gangsters with more muscle than brain but when the 'muscle' consists of an arsenal of truly, mass destruction weaponry, you had better look out!  They are, even now, spending huge amounts of money attempting to develop a missile system capable of penetrating American defences.  'By their deeds shall you know them'', so when you see a Russian-born, British subject quite obviously murdered by Putin's mobsters and our police and judicial enquiries stymied by the Russian government; or when you see the British ambassador hounded day and night by a Russian government-inspired, semi-Fascist youth group; or when you look at how Putin deals with insurrection in Chechnya (compared to how we pussy about in Iraq!); or how Russia uses its energy resources to blackmail any country that opposes its aims, then you would be well-advised to look for granddad's old tin hat!

Now, where did I start all this yadda-yadda ... oh yes ... Happy New Year!

New Year Irresolutions!

This has never been the most energetic of Blogs mostly because I am frequently side-tracked by arguments elsewhere - as though I don't have enough arguments here!  Anyway, as Christmas approaches I shall gradually decelerate from slow to a complete halt .  The SoD* has invited the little 'Memsahib' and myself to stay with him for Christmas and Boxing Day and on the Wednesday I have my first proper rehearsal for Hamlet. Then, it's back home for a day and on the Friday we're off to the south of France, doncha' know, to celebrate an old friend's 80th birthday and then New Year's Eve.

Mention of the New Year, of course, reminds me that it is time for my resolutions.  I have pondered on these for all of 30 seconds and here they are:

1:  Make peace with the 'Flying Rodent' by sending him this slim volume.

2:  Treat Dr. Larry 'Teabag' with all the respect due to a man who can actually do quadratic equations.

3:  Treat 'Snotty McShott' with all the respect due to a man who couldn't even spell quadratic equations.

4:  Make an effort to read 'Planeshift's' blog even if it would be easier to read a wall on one of the pyramids.

5:  Be nice to Rachel even if she is the most stup ... I mean, the most stupendous woman in north London.

6:  Try not to use to use too many exclamation marks, that is, never more than ten per post!

7:  And finally, try really hard to get the hang of all this political correctness lark and use it in my daily life; especially to the Paki in the corner shop, the Mick behind the Bar in the pub, the Frog who runs the bistro in town and the Towelhead who runs the vegetable stall in the market.  (See, it's quite easy really.)

Anyway, I wish you all a very pleasant Christmas and my good wishes for 2007, especially my regulars, Clairwil, Hank, Larry, 'Ratty', Hilary, 'Planeshift', Ion and even old 'Snotty'.  Forgive me if, in the haze of Laphroaig, I have missed anyone.

(*)  Son of Duff

The Stupidest Statesman of the 20th Century!

As it's Christmas I offer you this game to while away the two minutes before your eyelids flutter shut after lunch.  Try and choose the stupidest statesman of the 20th century.  Now remember, that is not the same as picking the man or woman with whom you most disagreed; the accent is on the word "stupidest".  Also remember that he or she must be a statesman, so that lets the WWI generals off the hook - although it may well place the Kaiser on it because he was monumentally stupid by any standards.  I know the genius of Bismark made him a hard act to follow but he had been hugely successful for Germany and it took a man of Olympian stupidity like the Kaiser to undo all that he had achieved and lead his nation into a war that was lost in the first 8 weeks.

Perhaps some of you might look nearer to home and choose Neville Chamberlain who, according to popular history, was so stupid that he was totally unaware that, metaphorically-speaking, Hitler had picked his pocket and replaced his wallet with a scrap of useless paper.  I would dispute that reading because I don't think that Chamberlain was ever taken in by Hitler but he did allow his fervent desire and longing for peace to overcome his common-sense.

Well, I will leave each of you to pick your own favourite dummies but before I go I will offer you my own favourite - the dumbest, biggest, no-brain dimwit of the 20th century - Joseph Stalin!  I have been reading a history of The Red Orchestra by V. E. Tarrant, one of the Cassell Military Classics editions.  The Red Orchestra was the name given to the Soviet espionage networks in Europe prior to and during WWII.  I had heard of them, of course, anyone with an interest in WWII would be bound to have come across mention of their activities but I had not realised the unbelievable penetration they achieved into the very highest command structures in Nazi Germany.  At one stage, in 1942/43, the decisions of the German High Command were in Moscow Centre within ten hours!

I already knew that prior to the Nazi invasion of Russia,  Richard Sorge, the master spy based in Tokyo was passing all the relevant information on the decision by Hitler to go to war with the Soviets, the forces to be used and the main lines of a attack, to Moscow, all of which landed on Stalin's desk and all of which he resolutely ignored.  This information was confirmed by British information gleaned from the code-breakers at Bletchley Park, but of course, this was considered to be tainted intelligence by the ultra suspicious Stalin.  But all of this pales in comparison to the almost unbelievable mountain of information that came through the Red Orchestra apparats much of it straight from traitorous elements at the highest levels of the German officer corps.  Stalin refused to believe any of it!  Indeed, so windy was he of offering Hitler any provocation that not only did he not re-enforce his frontier armies, he didn't even warn them to be ready.  Within a few months the German army was within 20 miles of Moscow and the Russians had lost millions of men.  It hardly needs to be said that most of the Red Orchestra perished in the worst possible way as the Nazi counter-intelligence penetrated them in turn.

So let's hear it for - Joseph Stalin, the Stupidest Statesman of the 20th Century!

Death where is thy sting ... ouch!

Three 'friends' died in the last few days.  I place inverted commas round the word 'friends' because I didn't actually know them although it felt as though I had.  The first was Frank Johnson, surely the doyen of parliamentary sketch writers whose wit could prick the egocentric pomposity of an MP at 100 paces!  The pleasure was all the better for the puncture being executed not just without rancour but with great good humour.  I particularly liked this extract from the Telegraph obituary when he remarked on how the patrician Roy 'Jenkins was described in a by-election campaign leaflet as "a miner's son", Johnson mused: "True, certainly; but only in the way that it is true to describe Mrs Jacqueline Onassis as the widow of a Greek merchant seaman. It simply does not do justice to Mr Jenkins' position in café society."'  He and Bernard Levin were the two Fleet Street writers I most enjoyed.

Back in the 1970s I had a job that entailed going to the Dutch Grand Prix, a task that filled me with gloom because, as I moaned at the time, if I wanted to watch cars racing by I could park by the side of the M1!  Arriving in time for the first practice I must confess that the sight of these sleek, aerodynamic darts-with-wheels being pushed out of the pit garages by the mechanics perked my interest a bit, but when they fired them up, I was blown away - almost literally.  Watching and hearing at close quarters the monstrous power of those machines was electrifying.   Thus, I became rather hooked on F1 racing and one of my 'heros' was the swash-buckling, Ferrari driver, Clay Regazzoni, a terrific scrapper on the track whose career, and spinal cord, were shattered in a 280 kmh crash.  Paralysed from the waist down, he fought back and managed to regain a competitive driver's licence for the lower rungs of car racing.  It is, I suppose, an example of the black humour of the Gods that he was killed last week in a traffic accident!

Then, just this morning I heard of the sudden death of Mike Dicken, the acerbic host of radio phone-ins.  I used to listen to him years ago on LBC but when I moved away I lost track of him until he re-appeared on the incomparable TalkSport.  I didn't always agree with him but I admired his opinionated, attacking style which was usually laced with good humour.

I shall miss them all.

Only on Planet Zog ...

'Rachel from Zog' hurtles unerringly towards the wrong conclusions in a post headed: "Somebody's daughter, somebody's friend... "; for all the world, like a heat-seeking missile heading for an iceberg!  I was cynically amused at the appearance of a post, any post, on the subject of murder from a liberal site.  She had, God knows, enough examples to provoke her into expressing some sort of opinion, for example, just before the prostitute murders around Ipswich, a young lad was stabbed to death in Ipswich, itself, and just a day or two before that an innocent businessman was kicked and stamped to death by two young men just outside a Police Station in Henley.  All in a week's work, as they say!  But those, and the several hundred previous murders this year, were not enough for Rachel and her liberal ilk to worry themselves unduly.  (Regular readers will recall that only a week or so ago I challenged that 'right-on, power to the people' liberal, 'Dr. Teabag', to come up with any liberal commentator who had raised the subject of the soaring murder rate and offered any, repeat any, solution.  Answer came there none!)  Now, however, Rachel has strained and produced two tiny thoughts.  First, we should decriminalise prostitution; and second, we should legalise drugs.  Savour those two 'thoughts' for a moment ...!  I am reminded of Oliver Kamm some years ago when he named 'Ryan of Manchester' the Stupidest Blogger in the World.  I nominate Rachel as the Stupidest Bloggette in the World.

It is always extremely difficult to analyse exact causes to any human event but two factors seem to be screamingly obvious and important in this particular case.  First, prostitutes are vulnerable; and second, they engage in prostitution because they need to pay for £150-a-day drug habits.  Her 'solution' is to make it easier for women to prostitute themselves and easier to obtain drugs.  In the words of the great Richard Littlejohn, you couldn't make it up! 

The question arises, why would liberals like her peddle such ludicrous and cruel ideas.  The answer, of course, as is so often the case in human affairs, is selfishness. Being middle-class and semi-educated, they wish to avail themselves of drugs as a social activity without being menaced by inconveniences like the Law, after all, it's their right, innit?  Being semi-educated they have just enough cleverness to think they can handle drugs without any problem.  However, I am provided with some grim amusement by the number of Bloggers I read who proudly admit to smoking dope whilst admitting, in separate posts, that they are constantly suffering from depression!  They lack, you see, sufficient intelligence to draw an obvious conclusion. 

Returning to these unfortunate women, it was made clear in the news that they began by smoking hash in their youth before moving on to the hard stuff.  Well, why wouldn't they?  After all, they had no authority figures (parents, teachers, a moral ambiance) in their lives with sufficient power to ensure that they avoided obvious perils.  Indeed, they had exactly the opposite, all the authority icons who should have been steadfast in supporting a moral code had disappeared, sneered at and scorned by the new, arrogant power-brokers of the liberal elite.  This elite, you see, wanted its hedonistic pleasures and had the money and the connections to ease their way out of trouble should it arise.  The fact that the ignorant, stupid, feckless and uneducated under-classes would also demand and 'enjoy' this libertine life-style was of no concern to them even when, as was blindingly obvious, it would lead them to a slowly rotting existence and a long, drawn-out death.  At least those poor women in Ipswich got out relatively quickly!  I should make one thing clear.  I, too, am minded to support legalisation of drugs - it is one of those subjects about which I am truly non-plussed.  But if I did advocate it, it would not be on the risible pretence, as exampled by Rachel, that somehow it would improve the chances of the sub-class, on the contrary, it is my guess that the number of addicts and deaths would rise, and that is part of the reason that I hold back.

Rachel (the S B in the W) makes up her mind on the subject of prostitution by reading a tract issued by the prostitute's trade union.  She actually appears to believe that prostitutes pay tax and NHI!  Anyway, she sees the solution as providing them all with safe houses - paid for by the tax-payer, I assume, because there is no way a whore with a £150-a-day drug habit is going to waste money paying for a bedroom when she can work free on the street.

Finally, we should contemplate with whatever feelings might arise, the 'fate' of our so-far missing murderer when he is eventually caught.  He will, I guess, enjoy (and I use that word deliberately) a life of considerable comfort, safety and ease in a mental prison hospital, like Peter Sutcliffe, unless at some future date a dipstick psychologist decides he's 'cured' and lets him out.  I would hang him but the likes of Larry and Rachel would scold me on the basis that there is no proof that killing some-one has any effect on other people's behaviour.  Well, some whores have been killed in Ipswich and if you live in that area and are feeling like a poke tonight you'll have a hell of a job trying to find one, so it certainly seems to have had an effect there!

I owe 'Shuggy' a large glass of 'Scottish water'!

The 'Shuggy' I refer to writes his blog under that pseudonym and, in fact, I think I probably owe him two glasses of 'Scottish water'.  The first for writing, so often, the sort of shrewd good sense that stops my intemperate re-action dead in its tracks and forces me to think, or perhaps, to re-think; and secondly, for pointing me to this essay by Roger Scruton which I found genuinely moving in the way it describes his political and philosophical development since his youth.  It is typical of the non-doctrinaire approach of 'Shuggy' that he, a socialist, could point his readers in such a 'Rightward' direction.  I urge everyone to read it - and put Shuggy on your Favourites list.

The Big Bang - no, not that one!

Mr. Blair, in one last splurge of my money (when talking of 'government' money always replace it with the personal pronoun, it concentrates the mind wonderfully), intends to spend several 'zillions' on up-dating the British nuclear force.  It has galvanised that grizzled, old warrior, Oliver Kamm, to rush in re-enforcements to support it!  For myself, I must confess that this is a subject (pace  Messrs. 'Teabag' & 'Brisso' - see previous comments) about which I harbour considerable doubts.  To be blunt, I'm in a complete dither!

When I compare the 'actuality' of the campaigns fought over the last 50 years, compared to what we were prepared for, it seems fairly obvious that they all (with one exception) came as a complete surprise to Whitehall.  Thus, in the 1950s no-one supposed our army would face a protracted confrontation with Indonesia in the 1960s; equally, in that decade no-one thought an even longer campaign would start in Ulster in the 1970s during which any plans for a war in the 1980s with Argentina in the South Atlantic would have been dismissed as madness ... and so on, and so on.  However, in considering the 'actualities', it is clear that what all of them required (with one exception) was the placing of Infantry boots upon disputed ground and this can only be done with the support of all the other arms and services, in other words, conventional forces.

Modesty, er, and the 'actuality', insists that I make clear that in 9 years service I only, just, made the rank of corporal, so my views on grand strategy should be taken with a salt mine!  Even so, it seems to me, based on the last 50 years that what we need is the capability of projecting fairly swiftly an Armoured or Infantry division into most parts of the world plus the ability to re-enforce it.  This will require at least two powerful aircraft carriers and attendant escorts, plus, a large heavy-lift air transport capability with suitable fighter and fighter/bomber protection.  It will also entail an increase in Infantry battalions, not the reduction that is taking place now.  All of that will cost 'zillions' before we even reach the 'zillions' required for the Nuclear Force.  However, it has the advantage of dealing, if history can be relied upon, with the most probable threats.  Of course, it is less likely in these post-imperial days that we would use such a force unilaterally but in any alliance such a capability would guarantee us a seat at the top table, a position devoutly to be desired.

I pointed out above that there was one exception to this long list of conventional campaigns and that was, of course, the Cold War and the containment of a nuclear-armed Soviet Union.  It is fair and accurate to say that Britain's nuclear arsenal played a very small part in that particular 'war of nerves' and that it was the overwhelming might of the USA standing behind a pretty-well solid alliance (excepting the French, naturellement!) that did the trick.  But more of this anon ...

Here and now, I must try and evaluate the threats we face today.  Obviously the most pressing is that which emanates from militant Islam in the form of terrorist attacks.  It seems gloomily obvious to me that it is only a matter of time before one or other of them launch an attack using 'WMD'.  (Here, I will digress slightly to clarify my use of that acronym which is much misunderstood.  In this context of terrorist warfare, I use it mainly to indicate bio-chemical weapons of a crude sort whose 'mass' destruction potential is, I suspect, much over-hyped, but whose potential for creating huge panic and alarm and possibly ill-thought out re-actions from governments is considerable.  Man-portable and man-detonated nuclear bombs are, I think, exceedingly difficult to transport, assemble and use - for the moment!) These groups would only aquire their materials via the good offices of a hostile government.  However, the chances of proving that to the satisfaction of a lily-livered British public before launching a nuclear retaliation at, say, Damascus is shrinkingly tiny!  However, such governments would take very seriously the prospect of a determined bombardment of pin-point-accurate Trident missiles aimed at their national political and economic infrastructure with the aim of degrading their ability to govern - if they lived that long!  Smart bombs in that scenario would be preferable and more acceptable to the public than nuclear bombs.

The next threat comes from what I call the Div. 3 of the nuclear club, the likes of Iran and North Korea - and possibly South America in due course!  However, their problem, apart from actually developing the weapons - no easy matter - is also the problem of delivering them.  An ICBM programme would be immensely expensive and hideously difficult.  I'm not saying they couldn't do it, but it would take considerable time and effort.  As far as Iran is concerned the sensible policy would be to scotch it fast before it's hatched, which is yet another reason to ensure that Israel has the very latest military weaponry and the knowledge that we will turn a 'Nelson's eye' to anything they do!  Depending on how far advanced these Div 3 nations can progress, or we allow them to progress, will depend our assessment on how much we need our own deterrent.

However, there is one other threat looming over the horizon upon which the 'commentariat' is rather silent.  I refer to the resurgence of a militant and nuclear-armed Mother Russia.  Puffed up with highly valuable and scarce energy resources and run on ruthlessly realpolitik principles by a leader who does not scruple to murder dissidents, even in foreign countries, Russia is about to become a 'clear and present danger' to Europe.  If a Democratic regime in Washington decides it has had enough of foreign interventions, particularly in view of either the luke-warm support, or the downright hostility, of Europe, and that henceforth, it will retire into Fortress America, then an over-mighty Russia will be encouraged.  There is no longer what Churchill called 'a soft-underbelly to Europe' because today, the whole of Europe is as soft as its butter mountain!  If America doesn't care any more, who or what is to stop Russian ambitions being realised?  Well, perhaps the risk that a British nuclear force would so wound and maul Russia as to weaken it so much that its enemies (China?) might decide to advance in their direction.  (Another digression.  I am reminded of von Tirpitz's strategic assessment prior to 1914 that whilst he knew that the British would never allow Germany to out-build them in warships, nevertheless, it didn't matter because once the German fleet reached a 'critical mass', the British would not dare attack it because even in the act of winning they themselves would take so much damage that they would be permanently weakened and their other enemies wold quickly take advantage.  He was wrong!)

So, there you have it!  Arguments for and against.  In an ideal world we need both a much stronger conventional force as well as a credible (and truly independent - yet another factor!) nuclear force but we can hardly afford one, let alone both.  The answer?  Don't ask me - what would you do?

Losing the will to live!

A few minutes ago I finished a long post on the subject of British nuclear defence policy.  I had just started to use the spell-checker, essential in my case as some of you will have noticed, when I suffered a momentary electricity cut, literally less than a second, but enough to lose the lot.  I am now going outside to bow my head and run as hard as I can into the wall of my house - or, and this has just occurred to me, to work out how to 'nuke' my local electricity company!

When I have recovered, I will try and regurgitate as much as I can.

"Eliminate, eliminate, eliminate ..."

Sorry, I'm just back from a trip and Typepad has obviously been taken over by Daleks in my absence because it refuses to publish my own comments!  (Shut up, Larry, that joke's too obvious!)  It assumes that my wise words are 'spam'.  Too, too insulting!  Anyway I can't reply to anyone in the 'comments' section and I assume that you can't comment, either.  It will have to wait until Monday when California opens for business and I can vent my opinion, my spleen, my choler and anything else I can think of!

Update:  Either my (unprintable) thought waves reached through the ether to California or Dr. Who smote the detestable Daleks - either way, they now deign to publish my comments!

December 7th: 'A damned fine thing, the finest thing you ever saw'*

I am obliged to Mike Cunningham and GenghisBlog for reminding me that today is the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbour.  It was, without doubt, a brilliant and ruthless strategic stroke by the Japanese to sneak their fast, powerful, modern carrier force up into the empty northern wastes of the Pacific and then send them hurtling south to launch a thunderbolt on the American navy at rest in its anchorage at Pearl Harbour.  Take out the USN, and at a stroke, the Pacific becomes a Japanese ocean not an American one.  The western Pacific rim was not defensible in any event but if the Japanese had succeeded at Pearl Harbour, neither would Australia.  Unfortunately for the Japs, it was also a "brilliant and ruthless" failure! 

But surely (I hear you cry), the Japs did win at Pearl Harbour!  To which I would reply, going on from my strictures to 'Rachel from Planet Zog' (see below), that you provide an example of not understanding the differences between tactics, grand tactics, strategy and grand strategy, to say nothing of geo-politics.  The Pearl Harbour attack was a brilliant tactical victory but a total failure at the grand strategic level.  The reason is quite simple, by sheer fluke the American carriers had left the day before on exercise, and within 6 months, following the battle of the Coral Sea and the battle of Midway, both of which were fought without capital ships even seeing each other, let alone firing their guns, it became clear to everyone that the age of the battleship was dead and the aircraft carrier was now the battle winner.  So, to sum up, the Japs lost their war in the first 24 hours - but took 4 years and two atom bombs to own up!

Today, I once again pause and quietly bow my head for a moment in grateful respect to the men of the USN, 1941 to 1946.  R.I.P.

*Spoken by the dear, old 'Duke of Boot' at the conclusion of the battle of Waterloo, and using the word "finest" in the sense of 'close run'.  (Well, you have to explain these things these days - if only for the likes of 'Rachel from Planet Zog'!)

Novels are for girls - or girly-boys!

It is a very rare event for me to finish a novel.  I have a golden rule - about a quarter of the way in I pause and ask myself if I give more than a rat's arse for the fate of the characters in the book.  The answer being almost invariably 'no', I toss the book away.  There are exceptions, of course.  I tried, but failed, to read Vanity Fair in one sitting, so enthralled was I, but that might have had something to do with Becky Sharp being such a terrific character and also Thackeray being such an amusing cynic.  I suspect that there is more than a dash of Becky in Scarlett O'Hara, the heroine of Gone With the Wind,  another novel I gulped down as fast as I could.  Perhaps the greatest compliment I ever paid to a novelist was when I failed to finish Tom Wolfe's book, The Man in Full. I had read and loved his previous book The Bonfire of the Vanities.  I will never forget the passage in which the 'hero' and his girlfriend in a very smart Mercedes sports car take a wrong turning off the motorway and end up trapped in traffic in the Bronx being eyed speculatively by the street life!  The Man in Full was right up to his usual standards but I became so engrossed and involved with the characters, and because I could see the avalanche of total disaster that was about to hit them, I simply couldn't bear to read anymore.  As I say, a back-handed compliment to Wolfe and one of these days I am going to 'stiffen up the sinews' and give it another go.

But with those odd exceptions, I still don't understand why people read novels when they could read history.  In a good history book you will get real men (and women) with all their vices and virtues, facing extreme tests of their characters and qualities.  I have almost finished the third volume of the biography of Lloyd George, a man about whom I knew very little.  It is, I think, an extremely fair view of the man by the late John Crigg, although I suspect that others might be more harsh on him.  Still, here you see him from 1912 to 1916 facing a barrage of problems and difficulties and, by and large, overcoming them.  Perhaps distance lends enchantment to the eye but the politicians of those days seemed to be bigger men than the midgets of today, that is, big men with big ideas and with the energy and self-belief to drive them through.  And if it is emotion and poignancy that you look for in a book, I will never forget the closing chapter of Nigel Hamilton's biography of Field Marshall Montgomery in which he describes the moment when 'Monty', close to death, said, "I couldn't sleep last night - I had great difficulty.  I can't have very long to go now.  I've got to go to meet God - and explain all those men I killed at Alamain -"

"History is philosophy teaching by examples" - Dionysias of Halicarnassus.  How true - wish I'd thought of that!

I've got that deja-vu feeling all over again!

I hope readers have enjoyed the visit of my distinguished guest, Rachel from Planet Zog.  She's a brave lass (and I mean that, the girl's got guts and I salute her for it!) but unfortunately she's also as thick as six short Ghurkhas!  Of course, in this People's Democracy that we all enjoy, being totally ignorant is no bar to leading a campaign on anything you fancy, as the redoubtable Rachel proves.  At this point, I had better get my confession in first and admit that I, too, have displayed trenchant opinions on this and other blogs and not always based on the surest of knowledgeable foundations.  Oh, let's not mess about, from time to time I indulge in a little bluff and bluster - there, I've said it!  However, I like to think that usually, hidden somewhere in the verbiage is a small clause indicating that on this, or that, subject I might not be totally up to speed.  On such occasions, some of my sharper interlocutors have pounced 'many a time and oft'.  And so they should because, whilst I am by nature a 'thumb-in-the-eye-and-knee-in-the-groin' debater, inwardly I am cursed with doubt.

My most recent falling out with Rachel began on her place where she had written a strong opinion piece on the modernisation of Britain's nuclear weapons.  I pointed out, politely I thought, that as she had nil knowledge on geo-politics and grand strategy a nil opinion might be more in order.  She banned me!  No matter, "it's all blood under the bridge" but still, the abysmal state of ignorance on this very complex matter has niggled away at me ever since.  It has been re-enforced by my current reading - no, not Hamlet, I need a break - How War Came by Donald Cameron Watt, a history of the late 1930s.

It is not in my nature to feel much pity for politicians but reading this book I could not but feel considerable sympathy, even for the likes of Chamberlain, Halifax and the rest of the crew.  Being outside the Downing Street loop, it is impossible to imagine the streams, no, the tidal waves of information and analysis that pours across a statesman's desk, and all of it contradictory!  The nearest equivalent I can think of to being a statesman is playing 3-dimensional chess where you can only see half of your opponent's pieces.

Let me give one example from this most excellent book which recounts events, hitherto unknown to me, that took place very early in 1939.  HMG, still unsure of Hitler's intentions post Munich, suddenly received intelligence reports from various and hitherto reliable sources that Hitler planned to attack either through Holland, or both Holland and Switzerland, or was going to launch a massive surprise air attack on London. I repeat that these sources had supplied reliable information before and also the reports were 'confirmed' by information from other countries.  The effect on British defence planning was electric!  As Cameron Watt writes, "Yet it now seems clear that these reports were untrue."  (Is any of this ringing bells in your head and reminding you of more contemporary events?)  Where did these reports emanate from?  Step forward Herr Hans Hoster, deputy to Admiral Canaris, head of the Abwehr. This patrician gentleman of the old German school, loathed and despised the thugs and parvenus of the Nazi party and he hated Hitler above all.  He was part of the original 'resistance' to Hitler and it provides me with yet another wry smile that this, the only resistance with real potential, was totally and impeccably Conservative to its manicured finger-tips.  The confused Communists, of course, had no clear idea of whether to be pro- or anti- Hitler until he marched into Russia!   Hoster, being a trained intelligence officer, knew exactly the best way to disseminate this information to the British to convince them of its veracity and in the hope that it would galvanise them to enough action that he and his co-conspirators could mount a coup.  All of this filled the desks and the schedules of British ministers and civil servants for a couple of months  - but in addition there was never any let up in the huge flow of information from all the other capitals of the world.

Reading this book reminds me why there are so many politicians and so few statesmen, by which I mean, men of such great intellectual and (I make no excuse for the word) spiritual strengths that they are capable of grasping grand strategy and steering a steady course through the turbulence and the tons of contrary information, opinion and pressure to which they are subjected.  As 'bloggers' with opinions on everything, we should bear in mind, as we rail at Blair or Bush or Thatcher and their ilk, that history is the final judge and until it pronounces, everything else is mere conjecture.

Air-brushed out of posterity - I hope!

I have hardly dared call attention to this lest my hopes are dashed, but 'BionOc', the latter-day Irma Grese of revolutionary Left-wing circles, appears to have disappeared - or perhaps, knowing the type of political thugs with whom she mixes, she has been 'disappeared'!  Anyway, her vile blog remains silent which is a conclusion devoutly to be desired. 

But even more good news - 'Meaders' has done a runner, too!  Nothing on his site since September.  Of course, both of them were contributing to Lenin's Turgid Tomb but having just done a fast scrawl (well it had to be fast to avoid catching anything) I see no sign of either of them.  Instead, and unbelievably, 'lenin' is now having to grind out even more column miles to fill the space - what a colossal, A1 crasher that man is, he could Bore for Britain at the Olympics! Mind you, I am slightly (but only very slightly) sorry to see 'Meaders' go.  Unlike the other two jumped-up Commissars, he never banned me.  One can't help wondering at their disappearance, though.  Was there an ideological fight in the hallowed Tomb?  Perhaps it is all totally innocent.  'BionOc' was a trainee doctor so perhaps she mistakenly injected herself with something lethal.  If so, one feels sorry for the needle!  And maybe 'Meaders' is now working full-time to scavenge what's left of the political corpse George Galloway can't wait to leave behind him.

I was going to say that we shall not look upon their like again, but alas, we will, we surely will.  But if you're short of laughs you could always try the ineffable 'Brother Ed the Dim of York', he's still demonstrating, single-handedly, why most university education is a waste of time and money.

And whilst I'm on the subject ...

Poor old 'Planeshift' came a cropper in the comments to the post below this but he did raise an interesting point which by coincidence was also raised this morning by Peter Hitchens in the Mail on Sunday.  Whilst pointing out that some murders by poisoning might not have been discovered by the science of 1960 (a tiny number, I suggest) he added, "On the other hand it [modern medicine] also keeps more people alive from wounds they would have died of in 1960. "  Peter Hitchens, not some one whose company dear, old 'Planeshift' would be happy to share!)  wrote this today:

"Complacent people [Who could he mean, Larry?] are constantly asserting that the abolition of hanging in 1965 did not cheapen life.  Actually, it has been followed by a steady increase in homicide and in the sort of heedless violent crime that left Tom ap Rhys Price lying in his own blood. And were it not for the amazing skill of today's NHS doctors in saving lives, statistics suggest that our annual homicide rate would be in the thousands.  Attempted murders now run at about 600 a year.  Cases of 'wounding to endanger life' run at around 10,000 a year.  Both offences are far more common than when we had the death penalty."

In a similar vein last week we had the sentencing of a man who abducted a 6-year old girl from her home and raped her twice before throwing her out naked into a snow-covered alley.  The headline read that he had been sentenced to "Life" but on reading the small print, of course, it transpired that  the judge has said he should serve a minimum of 21 years but under European law he could be considered for parole in 10 years!  TEN YEARS!  TEN FUCKING YEARS!!  I apologise for my language but I can only tell you that as I type my teeth are grinding and I have to close my eyes and thank the 'Intelligent Designer' that it wasn't my little girl because I truly think that if it had been, I would have bought a gun, smuggled it into court and shot the man dead - followed by the judge!  If I could have got away with it, I would then have hunted down the cretins who let this man out after 2 years for a previous conviction for child molestation.  Any adult found guilty of sexually molesting a child under the age of 10 should be locked up without remission until they are 80 years old or dead.  There is no cure for this perversion.  The sexual drives that are in us are with us for life.  The only question is whether or not we are able to control them and in many cases we cannot.  Once a child molester has allowed his control to slip it is essential for the safety of other children that they be locked up for the remainder of their active lives. 

However, in the immediate future, can the powers-that-be please stop lying to us by talking of "Life" sentences which are not Life sentences.  It adds insult of the vilest kind to injury of the most dreadful kind to parents of broken, damaged children.