DUFF & NONSENSE!

I grant you all two weeks holiday!

No, no, you can't go anywhere, it's me that's off with my bucket and spade, and the holiday for you is that you will not have to read any of my tedious tripe until I return on the 2nd of June.  My security detail will not allow me to divulge my destination because, of course, like Kate and Wills the papparazzi are always trying to follow me, suffice to say, that it is an island south of Spain beginning with 'M' and ending in 'A' - oops, have I given it away?  Anyway, hasta la vista, babies, be good whilst I'm away!

That about sums it up - and I do mean sums!

I have been saving this one for you - no, no, not out of consideration for you but for me!  Written by a Lord, no less, it has lain undisturbed in my 'Blog Feeder' file because I took one look at all the sums (or mathematics, if you want to be posh) and decided to work it up as a post - tomorrow.  And we all know about the constant non-appearance of 'tomorrow'!  Anyway, with my usual selfless dedication - no cheques, please, just cash in the usual plain envelope - I have summoned up my energy and decided to concentrate on the literary part of his Lordship's original paper to give you the flavour of the thing, and let you swots go and check his mathematics for yourself.

The particular Lord I have in mind is the Viscount Monckton of Brenchley who has written an excellent essay for the equally excellent blog, Watts Up With That.  In it, his Lordship describes a 'cutesy-wootesy' little scheme in some dump called Oldbury - north of the M25 so barely worth consideration but even so - in which all the little kiddie-winkies at some primary school were presented with their very own wind-turbine and told that they were thereby saving the planet.  This little 'toy' cost - wait for it and brace yourselves - £5,875 ($9694)!  But, hey, we're saving the planet, kids, so what the hell!

 

Alas, his Lordship, a real party-pooper if ever there was one, has committed the unforgiveable sin in HAF (Hot Air Fanatic) circles by actually doing the sums:

In the first full year of the Oldbury White Elephant’s 20-year life it generated a gratifying 209 kilowatt-hours of electricity – enough to power a single 100-Watt reading-lamp for less than three months. The rest of the year you’ll have to find something else to do in bed.

Gross revenue for the year, at 11p (18 cents) a kilowatt-hour, was, um, almost £23 ($40). Assuming that there are no costs of finance, insurance or maintenance, and after subtracting 20 years’ revenue at last year’s rate, the net unamortized capital cost is £5,415.20 ($8,900).

Not content with knocking the top of the kiddies' ice creams and popping their balloons, Lord 'Gradgrind' gets down and dirty:

How much “global warming” will Jumbo the Albino forestall? While it is in operation, it will generate 209,000/365/24 or almost 24 Watt-hours per hour on average: just about enough to drive an electric toothbrush. 

Mean UK electricity consumption, according to the Ministry of Transparency, is 43.2 GW. Electricity contributes one-third of UK carbon emissions, and the UK contributes 1.5% of world emissions. So the proportion p of global carbon dioxide emissions that the Worthless Windmill will forestall is 24 / 43,200,000,000 / 3 x 0.015, or 2.76 x 10^–12, or, as Admiral Hill-Norton used to call it, “two-thirds of three-fifths of b*gger all”. Skip the next few paragraphs if mathematics makes your head hurt.

My head is hurting so I will skip quickly to the end where his Lordship sums up the whole wind-turbine/global warming scam in his usual elegant style:

So there you have it. After the biggest and most expensive propaganda campaign in human history, leading to the biggest tax increase in human history, trying to stop “global warming” that isn’t happening anyway and won’t happen at anything like the predicted rate is the least cost-effective use of taxpayers’ money in human history, bar none – and that’s saying something.

The thing about gesture politics is that the politicians (that’s us) get to make the gestures and the proles (that’ll be you) get to get the bill.

Read the whole thing - and weep!

Then watch the 'lesbian-straightener' on the news today as he unveils his Big Idea for stopping global warming - and try really hard not to top yourself!

 

Oh dear, scratch one 'possible'!

No doubt to your relief I have eschewed any hard opinions on the riders and runners in the forthcoming White House Stakes.  This self-embargo will not last, of course, with an opinionated fellow like me.  To be honest, part of my self-effacement stems from my ignorance of any details concerning the 10  17  32  89 and counting? Republican politicians who can see a man when he's down and cannot resist giving him a kick - sorry Barack, old boy.  However, one man did stand out as worthy of a second look and that was Ron Paul, a Texan Congressman who is even older than me.  In addition, he claims to be a libertarian which in certain circs is 'A Good Thing' but taken to extremes can be 'A Very Bad Thing'.

For example, he called one of his sons, Rand, presumably in dedication to the late Ayn Rand, the Goddess of Libertarians everywhere.  Now, she was, on the whole 'A Good Thing' but it must also be admitted that in many ways she was as mad as a Hatter.

However, returning to Paul Snr., I am obliged to Chuck Roger of The American Thinker who has picked up some rather alarming deviations from the distinguished Congressman.  Speaking of the execution raid on bin Laden, Rogers reports:

Texas Congressman Ron Paul, now officially seeking the 2012 GOP presidential nomination, says that the raid which killed Osama bin Laden "was absolutely not necessary." In the same radio interview, Paul conjectured that the United States could have convinced Pakistan to turn over bin Laden. The congressman added a bizarre non-sequitur:

What if [bin Laden] had been in a hotel in London? So would we have sent the... helicopters into London because they were afraid the information would get out?

Mr. Rogers is quick to point out:

 

Can Ron Paul not distinguish between steadfast ally Britain and a Pakistani regime poisoned by duplicitous people? The London scenario seems to have sprung from a mind unable to discern the difference between close friends and shifty acquaintances that cozy up close just often enough to collect handouts.

In answer to Paul's two questions, if bin Laden had been in London, British Special Forces would have popped the scoundrel as a favor to a close friend. That the congressman offered the implausible London ploy presents voters with a scary view into the "thought process" of an aspiring President of the United States.

A small slip, perhaps, but there is worse to come:

On a recent episode of Fox Business Network's Stossel, self-declared "man of the left" and history Professor Thaddeus Russell stated that "if we're going to end the wars, if we're going to end the American empire, the only thing that will do that is a coalition between the left and people like Ron Paul. And in fact, he knows that he's talked with Ralph Nader in public and with Bernie Sanders and other very leftwing people in American political discourse about doing just that. And so I know that Ron Paul agrees with me in this project of working with the left."

"Do you?" host John Stossel asked Congressman Paul.

Paul responded, "I have certainly worked with those on the left and with the progressives. I think our problem that we face is..."

That sounds a bit like Maggie Thatcher cutting a deal with Michael Foot!

ADDITIONAL:  Apparently Ross Kaminsky of The American Spectator shares my doubts concerning Ron Paul's suitability as a candidate and for much the same reasons.  In addition he scratches Newt Gingrich's chances because of his pathetic efforts to 'triangulate' his policies to catch as wide a section of the electorate as possible.  Kaminsky echoes my thoughts that what many Americans are yearning for is authenticity which Gingrich, with his vacillations, has now completely lost.  If authenticity is indeed the word then step forward MDS (My Darling Sarah) who reeks of it!

 

 

Ignorance is bliss

I have just picked up via Drudge that our very own Independent has an item concerning a test one can take which will tell you how long you have to live.  Is there anyone out there who would pay 10p let alone the approximately £400 being asked to learn that dismal 'fact'?  I place inverted commas around the word 'fact' because of course no matter how clever this blood test might be it will take no account of the No: 62 bus which is likely to finish you off when you least expect it!  But who, in their right mind, would wish for even a hint as to their final day?  I realise that some unfortunates with dreadful illnesses are forced, more or less, to acknowledge their approaching demise, but those, like me, at the peak of physical fitness - have I mentioned my regular swimming habits? - oh, no need to be rude! - are quite convinced that we are here forever.  As I keep reminding 'SoD', I am determined to be a burden.  I think that on this occasion the current jargon phrase is most appropriate - too much information!

Myers maketh much of muppet memes

Yes, yes, I know, that title was so much of a stretch you can hear it groaning but what do you expect at 9.00 am on a Monday morning after I have just done 100  50  8 lengths of the swimming pool - but I also do exercises in the corner, honestly, I do!  Now, where was I, oh yes, Monday morning and my alliterative heading.  Normally, when I kick-start my computer in the morning I have a set routine of sites I go through in order.  I do this not because I am neat and tidy and anally retentive but because until I have had my mid-morning shot of caffeine I am not truly awake and the routine keeps me roughly on course.  Anyway, today in a fit of Spring enthusiasm I kicked over the traces and went straight to Kevin Myers's site which, for some reason, I have missed recently.  It doesn't matter with Myers because he is such a good writer you can read his pieces long after their sell-by date.  His last post was absolutely spot on, more accurate than those multi-zillion pound missiles 'Field Marshal' Cameron keeps firing off into the desert.

Laser-like, Myers targets a production of Hamlet currently running at the Globe in which there is yet another example of a theatrical meme in action which has grown and grown like Topsy.  In it, the role of Ophelia is played by a black actress and no-one, not one single critic or journalist, remarks on the fact - except the redoubtable Kevin Myers:

This is interesting for two reasons. It indicates that it is now the theatrical convention that A) traditionally white roles can be played by black actors, and B) this may not be publicly discussed.

Yet a black Ophelia in medieval Denmark makes a primary demand of us -- that we do not notice her colour or her race. But the fact is, we do, and there's no point in saying we shouldn't.

Those of you steeped in latter-day political correctness will simply shrug and say why not?  To refuse white roles to black actors would be racist.  But, as Myers reminds us with brutal honesty, when it comes to roles like Othello:

It's irrelevant that white actors used to black up to play black roles. That was then. No one today would countenance a white actor blacking up.

He goes on to hoist PC Luvvie-land in its own petard:

So is the purpose of modern theatre to present productions faithful to the playwright's intentions, or is it to be an equal-opportunities employer, which accordingly must give jobs, regardless of racial appropriateness? Yes?

Okay, so how would an audience feel about a black actor playing Brendan Behan in 'The Borstal Boy', or Stephen in 'Ulysses'? Or a black actress playing Lady Bracknell or Miss Marple?

Moreover, why should we be expected to reject the evidence of our eyes solely with regard to race? Why not disability or age or sex? Why not have a blind Falstaff, or a teenage Lear, or a male Cleopatra? Why not a Hamlette, a Henrietta V, or a Macbess?

Driving back from the pool today I wondered what I would write about and I began to work up a suitable polemic against risking the life of our queen - God bless 'er! - on this forthcoming state visit to Dublin.  The Paddies don't deserve her, I was going to rant, but reading Myers reminds me that Paddie-land contains some rare wits and characters whose intelligence is worth cultivating.  So, you Paddies, I will lend you our queen for a few days but make sure you look after her and send her back in one piece!

 

The lesbian-straightener looks a bit bent!

Mr. Chris 'my God what a man, he can straighten lesbians' Huhne MP is looking distinctly bent today following the revelations by those unscrupulous, dandruff-ridden rodents from The Daily Mail.  Obviously they have suborned/bought/hacked (who knows?) the person said to have taken the penalty points when 'the lesbian-straightener' was caught rushing through Essex at over the speed limit, possibly on his way to a laying-on of hands to straighten out some other poor, deluded sister of Lesbos who needed to be shown the true way!  Some snidey, Labourite MP who probably couldn't straighten a paper clip has snitched to the Essex 'plod' who, even as I write, are 'proceeding in a westerly direction prior to conducting an investigation'.  The Mail, needless to say, is positively drooling and dribbling with expectation that Huhne might have to do time at Her Maj's pleasure, in which case he could come out in need of a bit of straightening, himself!  In the meantime, I have it on very good authority that 'Goody-Two-Shoes' Clegg is lying on his sitting-room floor drumming his heels on the floor, clutching his sides and biting on a piece of carpet to stop his howls of laughter disturbing the neighbours.  It's all fraternity, you know, in this political game!

Take cover - incoming military covenant!

"I am the heir to Blair".  Were ever truer words spoken by 'Call me Dave'?  There is simply no passing bandwagon upon which this OE spiv will not hitch a ride.  Earlier in the week he ordered/suggested/hinted/asked nicely (you choose which one you believe) the use of Scotland Yard manpower to re-open the investigation into the missing Madeleine McCann.  The McCann parents are two very intelligent and media-savvy people who have fought relentlessly to keep their missing daughter before the public eye - and I congratulate them for their tremendous efforts.  However, Kerry Needham, whose son Ben disappeared on the island of Kos 18 years ago, comes from much further down the social class and lacked all the communication skills that the McCann's have and thus her story has virtually dropped from sight.  Certainly it has no interest for 'Field Marshal' Cameron! 

Next up for the laying-on of prime ministerial hands is the 'military covenant'.  This amorphous, now-you-see-it-now-you-don't, make-it-up-as-you-go-along, piece of political flim-flammery manages to combine stupidity with chicanery and thus becomes an archetypal piece of Cameronion political stuntery.  No-one quite knows what it is to do, specifically, in practice, on the ground, over the desk of some local authority bureaucrat who probably thinks all soldiers are fascist brutes who should be sent for re-education.  And why should soldiers receive special treatment?  No-one forced them to sign on at the point of a bayonet, they volunteered, and when they did so they knew the rules.  And does it apply to all servicemen?  Will the no doubt splendid clerk from the Royal Army Pay Corps who once did a 6 month tour at the main HQ in Afghanistan receive the same preferential treatment as a squaddie who did 3 tours up the sharp end?  And will the benefits, whatever they turn out to be, cover all ex-soldiers?  If so, I had better brush up on my Richard III-style limp because I'm an ex-squaddie even if I did come out in 1968 and the only action I ever experienced was the usual Saturday night punch-up in the NAAFI Club in Aldershot! 

Well, I don't know what this covenant will do apart from create a brief halo around Cameron's head but I can guarantee three things, many ex-servicemen will be disappointed when they discover that it is mostly military-political bullshit; and many civilians will be resentful when they see servicemen jumping housing and benefit queues; and finally, but almost certainly long after Cameron has retired with a knighthood, the judges will be called upon to decide the matter in detail and as we can all see from their useless efforts to sort out the law on privacy, they will make a complete cock of it.

'Guys and Dolls' by Frank Loesser directed by Peter Rowe

What a theatrical week I have just enjoyed.  First the excellent Flare Path which I wrote about previously and then, today, Guys and Dolls which was simply superb.  Sorry if I'm coming over all luvvie-like but, honestly, there is nothing like live theatre at its very best, and I have to say there is nothing like one of those terrific American musicals from the mid-20th century.  Frank Loesser doesn't have quite the high reputation of the Gershwins or Cole Porter and their ilk, but this musical matches their very best in intelligence and insight and enormous fun and reproduces the artful wit of the original writer of the story, Damon Runyon.

This particular production is a joint venture by Clwyd Theatr Cymru (why can't the bloody Taffs learn to spell?), The New Wolsey Theatre in Ipswich and the Salisbury Playhouse, which is where I have just seen it.  It has already toured some cities and towns and I assume it will go to others and if so, I urge you all to make an effort to see it.  The cast are a stellar example of all that is best in British performing arts.  Not only do they act, but they sing, they play musical instruments and they dance.  The set design is exactly right in the way it evokes the 'Noo Yawk' of the '30s, and the director, Peter Rowe, in close co-operation with his choreographer, Francesca Jaynes, succeeds in rattling through this show with tremendous verve and energy.  The whole company, on stage and back stage, deserve the highest possible praise.

Yes, this is 'feel good' theatre and, by golly, you really do feel good at the end of it - so what's wrong with that in these doom-laden days?  If you can, go and see it, even if you have to travel to get there, you will come out feeling happier than when you went in - I promise!

 

'Flare Path' by Terence Rattigan directed by Trevor Nunn

What a master craftsman Rattigan was!  His stories flow past an audience seeingly effortlessly and it is only in retrospect that one realises with what care he constructs and melds the different scenes, first raising laughs, then raising tension which almost becomes unbearable before, at exactly the right moment, humour intrudes again.  The opening scene is relatively slow-moving because it is concerned mainly with introducing the characters but very soon, bit by bit, Rattigan draws back one veil after another to expose the hidden inner emotions and entanglements - and always, in the background to begin with but later bursting forth onto the stage via some tremendous special effects, are the threatening machinations of war.

This play was written in 1942 and is concerned with the aircrews from the RAF bomber station which lies adjacent to the country hotel/pub in which the play is set.  Rattigan served as an air gunner and had what they used to call, no doubt with usual British irony, 'a good war'!  He saw action, lots of it, and he wrote where-of he knew intimately.  His characters stay with you long, long after you have seen the play because they are so real, so ordinary, so like us.  He was criticised in some smart-arse corners for giving this play a sentimental ending but, for God's sake, this was performed when Britain was engaged in a terrible war which smashed and bashed and trashed people almost everywhere in the country.  Real-life tragedy of the most painful kind, not the stage variety, touched virtually everyone in those grim days and nights.  The people in the audience then needed, no, they deserved, an optimistic ending.

This was a good production and my guess is that once the London run ends the 'starry names' will depart to be replaced by others and the show will then tour the provinces.  If it comes on near you, I urge you to give it a try, it is a superb and moving three hours in the theatre.  I can pay it no higher compliment than to tell you that the grumpy, cynical, old git who runs this blog was reduced to gulping back tears on several occasions.

 

The 'LibDums' achieve the impossible - they make even bigger prats of themselves!

Was there ever a more ridiculous sight than young Clegg from the Upper Fifth trying to come on all manly and commanding and threatening the Head Boy, Cameron, that he would walk out unless things went his way?  The answer to that is so simple that even 'Dave', not too bright at the best of times, might find the answer which is, of course: well, young Glegg, you have just led your party of 'LibDums' into the valley of electoral death and taken huge casualties so if you want to have another charge please be my guest, leave the coalition and we'll call an election.  I really am not sure which is the most revolting sight to gaze upon; young Clegg being a sanctimonious goody-two-shoes, as he was on those tedious TV election debates, or, him trying to be the Charles Atlas who, despite his squeaky voice cracking and him being forced to gulp at every third word, is going to sort out the man who kicked sand in his face.  God, those Old Etonions in No 10 must have nearly wet themselves laughing.

I am up in London tomorrow, Wednesday, in order to see the Trevor Nunn production of Rattigan's Flare Path.  I once directed this myself so it will be especially interesting to see how the pros get on with it. 

 

A Bolt from the blue!

What a total bottom-feeder I am.  Here I am, bright and breezy on a Monday morning, and I find myself incapable of original thought and instead I am reduced to pinching everyone else's copy.  Have I no shame?  Er, no, actually!

Anyway, as the ratbags of IHTM pinched this from Andrew Bolt's blog at the Herald Sun, I don't see why I can't maintain my reputation for idleness and petty larceny, and anyway, Bolt can't complain, he's an Aussie and therefor undoubtedly the off-spring of convicts!  I just love the heading:

George W. Obama gets his reward

Nobel Peace Prize winner Barack Obama uses intelligence gained through a waterboarding he damned from a suspect still kept in a facility he vowed to close to send Special Forces to kill a man who’s a hero to many of the Muslims he vowed to reach out to.

Oh, that is so concise, so deadly, so accurate, it cannot be less than a three-whinny job - Wha! Wha! Wha!  Must bookmark that Bolt fella' even if he is a damned Aussie!

Richard North: standing up for blogs - and good jokes!

Sorry, Dr. North, but being a witless bugger myself I simply had to steal your very excellent joke which I display below but, in recompense, I urge my reader to visit you regularly at your EU Referendum site.

When it comes to grumpiness, Dr. North makes me look like Father Xmas!  In this particular post he spits nails into what he sincerely hopes are the coffins of our print media.  He's always good value, and if you are in a bad mood he makes you feel better because you quickly realise that even if you tried you could never get within a mile of his hissing, spitting rages. 

Terrorism in perspective

In this week's Spectator Alan Judd (no link yet but it will come up later) takes a long, cool look at terrorism in all its forms and gives us hope.  To begin with he tells us that the execution of bin Laden will neither accelerate or delay the demise of Al Qa'eda which is withering before our eyes already.  He suggests that the power of the organisation peaked at 9/11 and has been dwindling ever since.  Some 75% of its original leadership have either been killed or captured along with some 35,000 of its 'foot soldiers'.  In a telling comparison he points out that:

The number of Americans killed by terrorism since 9/11 roughly equals the number who drowned in their baths.

He reminds us that:

[T]errorist groups have a natural lifespan.  They generally last an average of around eight years, nearly always failing to achieve their objectives and collapsing through internal decay, in fighting, repression and loss of popular support.

Any similarity to Labour in Scotland is entirely coincidental!  Those that do last longer do so mainly because their cause is linked to some sort of nationalism, territorial claims or because they become social movements.

The problem for the future is that now, in the age of the computer, all the techniques honed by previous terrorist groups are available on the net to anyone with a grievance, so the threat is constant.  However, it needs to be set in perspective:

There has only ever been one terrorist attack with casualties in the thousands and about 19 over the past 25-plus years in the hundreds, while the overwhelming majority have killed fewer than ten.  From a peak of 22,000 attacks in 2007 (of which 6,200 were in Iraq), killing about 22,000, the trend ahs been downwards.  Compare that with roughly 2 million deaths worldwide  every year.

So, all life is precious and the threat is constant but we do need to keep it in proportion.  

It's that God-thing again!

In a previous post on the subject of Bernard Nathanson, a man I think of as the Dr. Mengele of the abortion butchers' shop, I was sternly rebuked by Gabriel in the comments thread who thundered at me, but perfectly politely, from his own personal Christian pulpit because I had indicated my absolute lack of forgiveness for this wretched man despite the fact that he later repented and became as fervent for pro-life life opinion as he had been whilst keeping himself busy (and rich) yanking bits of babies out of their mothers' wombs.  As you can imagine, a fairly lively conversation ensued but was cut short by bloody TypePad interference which automatically shuts down comments threads after a certain period of time.  Needless to say I haven't a clue how to rectify it so I thought it was quicker to compose a new post in which I would attempt a riposte to Gabriel's last criticism of my 'Old Testament' outlook.

Let me take some of his salient points in order.  He wrote:

That a man may deserve the death penalty has nothing to do with forgiving him if he asks for forgiveness. I am able to forgive you for breaking my window, but it doesn't mean that I will not demand that you pay to repair the damage you have done in order to satisfy justice. I other words, you can forgive someone as they wall to the gallows.

To which I can only ask, what then is 'forgiveness'?  I have puzzled over this word and its meaning without result and can only phrase the dilemma in a series of question;

a: Is it that you 'forgive' a villain his trespasses such that, were you to meet him in a pub later on, you would buy him a drink?  That is not as frivolous as it may sound because surely such a wholehearted stance is required by the word 'forgiveness'.  Anything less is only part-forgiveness.

b: Or does 'forgiveness' just  mean that you will forego all personal revenge and leave matters to the law.  Again, somehow that does not quite express the full meaning of the word.  You still hate the guy but prefer the hangman to do your job for you!

c: But supposing, as a Christian, you forgive the evil-doer completely and utterly.  Does not that infringe on a responsibility which lies entirely with God?  Surely, it is not up to us to forgive, it is up to God.

Then Gabriel reminded me that what Nathanson did was completely legal, a non-sequiter of epic proportions.  What has mere legality to do with this matter, I thought we were discussing morals.  He then suggests that my anger should be directed at the Supreme Court and, by implication, everyone who aided the passing of legislation that permitted Nathanson's activities.  To which I can only reply - it is, and I do!

Then Gabriel moved on to my lack of belief, or faith, in the existence of a God.  Happily, he tells me, I do not require faith despite every priest of every denomination I have ever known constantly calling on their flock to 'have faith'.  No, no, he tells me, the 'proof' can be reasoned out:

1) If nothing existed 500 trillion billion years ago, nothing would exist now, simply because it is impossible for "nothingness" to bring anything into existence. Thus, something always had to exist (because here we are today.)

2) In order for something to have a beginning it must exist in time. Therefore, if something always existed, it is outside of time. Philosophers call this "an eternal state" where there is no past, no future, but just an "eternal now" Scientists today will tell you that before the "Big Bang", "time" and "matter" simply did not exist.

3) The fact that the universe is comprehensible through the language of mathematics is and that man can intellectually grasp the laws which govern the universe is an important key.

Therefore the Cause of the universe is:

1) Outside of time (Eternal)
2) Outside of matter (Spiritual)
3) Rational (A Producer of an intellectually comprehensible universe)

Thus, the universe is timeless, so bang goes the, er, Big Bang theory!  Well, as it happens I gather that some scientists are already having doubts on that one. In his second point he confuses, I think, two entities, matter/energy and time.  I agree that in the very nano-second matter/energy is produced then time begins, because time is measurement and you can only measure something that exists.  But if he is correct that matter/energy have always existed then it follows that time has always existed - the two go together hand in hand, indivisible - until of course, that wretched 2nd Law of Thermodynamics  has its wicked way and all energy ceases, at which point all time ceases because there is nothing to measure.  Gabriel touched a sympathetic nerve with me by the way he stressed the importance of mathematics.  It is indeed the very keystone to our understanding, despite the fact that at the moment it merely serves to underline how much we do not know, rather like a man lighting a match in a cave as big as St. Pauls and trying thus to understand where he is.  He also rather spoils his argument by suggesting that the universe is rational, to which I can only respond with one expression - irrational numbers!  And as for 'harmony', again, without wishing to become bogged down in details, I would simply remind him of the correctly named Chaos Theory.  Yet again, I would remind him that if the Big Bang theory is correct, part of what permitted the eventual cohesion of sub-atomic particles which eventually led to the existence of planets and stars was their very slight dis-harmony as they flew away in the explosion.  None of any of this offers the slightest proof of the existence of a God.

Gabriel then moves on to the sort of arguments I might aim at atheists, that is, the nature of life and how it began - that is what I call, in an attempt at humour, Phase II of creation!  Like the beginnings of matter/energy, I have found no satisfactory explanation as to how life began.  That is not to say that one day there will not be such an explanation but I can only take the world as I find it today.

Gabriel then proposes the notion of 'soul'.  According to him "all living things" possess a soul which, given the selfish, false friendship of my cat who would sit by cleaning its ears as a burglar murdered me, I find hard to accept let alone define.  I mean, what sort of 'soul' does a fir tree own?  Or a frog?  According to Gabriel, Man's soul lies in his ability to reason, but surely that is a product of his brain which in turn is the product of evolution, so if Gabriel is right then the nature of Man's soul has changed over the millennia.

Sorry, Gabriel, but I remain unconvinced.  Mind you, ten minutes listening to that mouth-foamer, Richard Dawkins, might swing me your way!

When thieves fallout

My cup over-floweth!  Not just one set of murderous thieves and ratbags going chin to chin with each other, but two!  It can only end unhappily, I'm delighted to say.

First, Vlad 'Check my Pecs' Putin's little wheeze where-by he inserted his glove-puppet prime minister into the Russian presidency whilst he took over the premiership until the next election allowed him to stand again, has come unstuck.  Apparently all those hands up the back of his jacket controling his movements has irritated little Dimitri Medvedev and re-awakened some personal ambition.  Now this prime pair of thugs and kleptocrats are squaring off in the face of an up-coming election.  Can't wait!

Meanwhile, that ghastly, unshaven, little squirt with the dreadful tailor who thought he ran Iran has just found out that he doesn't.  Ah, shame!  Their equivalent of the archbish of Canterbury has put the boot in and arrested several of his aides.  If only they'd arrested his tailor!  Anyway, all to play for in Tehran and, to quote my favourite expression "there will be blood", or at least, I hope so.  (By the way, can you even imagine in your worst nightmares our archbish of Canterbury having even a miniscule amount of political power?  Truly shudder-worthy!)

Anyway, now you can see that it's not all doom and gloom here at D&N, 'I bring you tidings  of great joy', even if only on an occasioanl basis!

 

Flim-Flam, thanks, ma'am!

You know, on the whole I preferred it when Hollywood copied Washington, imperfect though it was.  Nowadays, Washington copies Hollywood and to be fair, the pols are better at acting than most stars of screen and television.  Take this photo where the Commander-in-Chief, his Secretary of State and sundry other heavyweights gaze transfixed as the SEALs storm in and zap bin Laden.  Notice in particular the little feminine touch from la Clinton as she anxiously covers her mouth with an expression of 'ooooh myyyy God' on her face.  And the way in which 'The One' leans forward, stern but commanding as he concentrates carefully  . . . er, on what exactly?

Well, nothing, actually!  Having told us that the President and his team had watched the raid via satellite film connection to the SEAL unit, it now transpires that the film signal broke down for 25 minutes, and one is left asking, as those rapscallions at IHTM have asked:

was there a director standing just off camera saying, “OK, now everyone look really tense.”

That air force general obviously didn't want to play - spoil sport - can't see him getting his next promotion!  The news of this prime piece of agit-prop comes along at exactly the same time as we learn that the still photos of Obama giving one of his head-swinging pontifications are not taken 'live' but are staged after the event when the noisy photographers are allowed in and the, er, leading man then re-enacts his entrance and his opening lines.  When this news broke the immediate re-action of the White House was to demand its retraction and deny it all.

If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it. The lie can be maintained only for such time as the State can shield the people from the political, economic and/or military consequences of the lie. It thus becomes vitally important for the State to use all of its powers to repress dissent, for the truth is the mortal enemy of the lie, and thus by extension, the truth is the greatest enemy of the State.

Dear old Joseph Goebbels, such a darling boy and a heavenly actor, did not live in vain!

 

Beware the Greeks refusing gifts!

Spiegel Online has caused a bit of flap amongst the bats in the Brussels belfry!  According to them, some highly placed source in the German government has said that the Greek government, fed up with almost daily demonstrations against the Brussels/German austerity program, is now actively considering a departure from the euro and that this news has brought about a sudden and secret meeting in some Chateaux in Luxembourg.  A more measured report in The WSJ insists that this is not so and that assurances have been received from Greek government ministers that no such plan is contemplated - well, if a Greek minister says so then that's that, isn't it . . .  er, isn't it? 

Whatever, it's still " a mess of potage", or a pot of mess, according to The WSJ:

Greece already has a €110 billion program of aid loans from other euro zone governments and the International Monetary Fund. But that program envisages Greece returning to bond markets in 2012 to raise nearly €30 billion of financing.

Most euro-zone governments privately acknowledge that that won't be possible, because bond investors won't lend to Greece at affordable prices. That reality is forcing Europe to discuss lending more money to Greece.

Spiegel spells out the ramifications if the story is true:

What is certain, according to the assessment of the German Finance Ministry, is that the measure would have a disastrous impact on the European economy.

"The currency conversion would lead to capital flight," they write. And Greece might see itself as forced to implement controls on the transfer of capital to stop the flight of funds out of the country. "This could not be reconciled with the fundamental freedoms instilled in the European internal market," the paper states. In addition, the country would also be cut off from capital markets for years to come.

In addition, the withdrawal of a country from the common currency union would "seriously damage faith in the functioning of the euro zone," the document continues. International investors would be forced to consider the possibility that further euro-zone members could withdraw in the future. "That would lead to contagion in the euro zone," the paper continues.

Still, it's an ill wind that fails to blow someone's hat off, and as I'm due soon for a fortnight's jolly in Majorca I hope the euro sinks like a stone against our poor, sickly pound so that I can live like a millionaire for a fortnight.

 

Go, baby Dave, go!

Well, there you have it, writ as large as you like.  The 'Il-Lib-non-Dems' are no more, or at least, not in any meaningful sense.  Like Monty Python's famous parrot, 'they have ceased to be'!  This provides the Tories with another, and better, chance of dishing those political gadflys once and for all because many of the seats they occupy should, by rights, be Tory-owned.  My own constituency is a case in point.  Long possessed by a LibDem and, to be honest, a fairly decent one, would now, I suspect, pass back to the Tories - along with a considerable number of other south west constituencies.  What a spectacular car crash it has been for the LibDems who for so many years have luxuriated in posturing from the sidelines without ever having to undertake that most hideously difficult but essential part of governmental activities - choosing!  One almost (but not quite!) feels sorry for them as they straggle back to Westminster like a  'Forlorn Hope' platoon of some Napoleonic regiment sent into a suicide mission - for which they all volunteered!  (Heh, heh, heh!)

Meanwhile, Labour has been well and truly sucker-punched by that Jock smoothie-chops who runs the Nats 'up there'.  If Labour are likely to lose a swathe of seats north of the border then they have no chance of gaining a majority from English voters.  Even as I write, the 'Bruvvers' are winding up for some unpleasant industrial action which will turn voter apathy towards Labour into active hostility.

All good news until one turns to the man in our team wearing the No. 9 shirt - Dave 'Fernando Torres' Cameron.  For the benefit of those, probably grateful, readers unencumbered by any knowledge of 'footie', I should explain that Fernando Torres is a Spanish centre forward, that is, the man meant to score most of your goals.  He has played, more or less, badly for Liverpool (so he's not all bad!) for some years and at the beginning of this year that zillionaire Russian pillock who owns Chelsea Football Club paid £50 million - repeat, £50 million - for him and in return Torres has scored - wait for it - one goal!  Honestly, outside of the White House, is there a bigger collection of the brain dead than that which may be found in 'footie'?  But I digress.  A year ago Dave 'Fernando' Cameron was faced with an open electoral goal - and he missed.  Today, most unfairly, he has a second chance.  He can dutifully and bravely (pass the sick-bag!) struggle on with his walking-wounded coalition partners, and face up to the massed ranks of the striking 'Bruvver'ood', hold his party conference in September and then go to the country in October. 

Should be a doddle - but on the other hand, it is Dave 'Fernando' Cameron, whose proud boast might be, no goal ever knowingly scored!

No grip!

"No grip", in essence, was the way in which Gen. Montgomery, with his customary short, sharp manner of speech, summed up Gen. Auchinleck's shambles in Egypt when he took over command in 1942.  From the outside looking in, this applies exactly to the ramshackle 'nil-command and no-control' operation of the Obama administration.  Personally, I would hesitate to put this man in charge of a parish council!

Let us start at the beginning as Russ Roberts does at Cafe Hayek and consider for a moment what this man proclaimed in his run for the presidency:

Suppose in the middle of the campaign, someone returned from the future and told you that by 2011, the President of the United States will have kept Guantanamo Bay open, launched a war against Libya, and crossed covertly into an ally’s territory to assassinate Bin Laden. Who would you think that would be? McCain or Obama?

Couldn’t be Obama. The man who was repulsed by American exceptionalism, who pledged to close Guantanamo Bay, the man who said the way to deal with bad guys is to talk to them, not attack them.

Oh dear, "what a falling off was there"!  I wouldn't hold that against him, or at least, not for too long because he was not the first politician to change his mind when faced with reality.  As a CIA economist told Roberts during the 2008 campaign:

when Obama becomes President, he’ll know what Bush knows (meaning horrific and frightening classified information) and he’ll do the same thing as Bush.

Mind you, Roberts offers another, alarming but very conceivable, theory as to why Obama has dropped so many of his pledges:

when you get into power, you change. It’s fun to play video games with real lives. You can’t help yourself. It’s easy to convince yourself (given that classified information) that you have no choice.

To be fair, that can only be a speculation and only the historians will tell us later how true it is.  Nor, in certain circumstances would it be a bad thing; one thinks of Churchill and his abiding love for all things military - it was part of what made him such a brilliant war leader, er, so long as Alanbrooke was around to squelch his dafter ideas!

However, the clincher to the proposition that the White House would have difficulty conducting a piss up in a brewery is the shambles over the handling of the bin Laden execution (I now use that word with growing confidence).  There has been a cacophony of different voices singing different songs - and it has been going on for three days.  Statements, corrections, denials, retractions - yadda-yadda-non-stop-yadda!  The end result is that no clear, concise - and believable - message has emanated from Washington so nobody believes a word of what they are hearing or seeing.  It is also apparent that, unlike Machiavelli's famous prince, no-one fears Obama, so his subordinates feel free to tell their own tales.

So, in my best Montgomery imitation, "Fella' has no grip, couldn't command a platoon!"

 

Political will, means and ends

Two of my regular commenters have remarked on the nature of government in our western democracies.  One complained, quite rightly, that all governments were hemmed in and restricted by a plethora of what might be called semi-governmental bodies which makes the business of political leadership impossible.  The other, more cynically, or perhaps, more despairingly, says that it makes not a fig's worth of difference which party political hack we vote into office because they're all the same.  By an odd coincidence, their remarks follow closely on an article at The Coffee House telling how much difficulty the government is having with its own lawyers.  The lawyers, of course, are strengthened by the stream of European and international law which gushes forth almost on a daily basis.  Thus, the best laid plans of politicians are constantly thwarted.  That it is the politicians who bend the knee to Brussels who bring upon themselves this equivalent of self-flagellation is of little comfort to us, the voters.  And at least the American are wise enought to refuse to be subjected to international courts.

So, there are plenty of reasons to be as despairing as my commentators but, whilst I agree with most of their complaints, I think there is a wider view to be taken.  First of all, it is necessary to realise that most ordinary politicians are, well, ordinary!  That is, they lack "the vision thang"; their sole political purpose in life is simply to be re-elected.  In my nearly 72 years only three prime ministers have broken that mould - Churchill, Attlee and Thatcher.  But the important point is that, for good or ill, they did break it!  By a combinanation of vision, ideology (or philosophy if you want to be posh) and political courage they made a real change to their societies in their time.  But even they failed to implement everything they desired because of the drag-anchor of other vested interests or, indeed, because of the lack of enthusiasm of the electorate.

As regular readers will know, I am a great 'admirer' of Bismarck.  Here was a man who through his vaunting ambition and will-power drove through the unification of the German states under Prussian leaderhip. To use a rather hoary old cliche, he did quite literally 'forge a weapon of steel' because none of the extra-governmental powers, King, Reichstag, army or anyone, was able to withstand his inexorable advances.  But what was the end result?  Eventually, his 'weapon of steel' was handed over to lesser men who, inheriting the Bismarckian government of diktat, used it to bring down on their heads, and the heads of their unfortunate populace, a cataclysmic disaster.

So, whilst I, like my two commenters, gnash my teeth in helpless fury at the pathetic stumble-bums who run my country, part of me is glad that they do not have greater powers.  Sooner or later (and, judging by British history, usually at the very last minute!) a politican of real character will emerge to swing the ship of state onto a new course.  But one thing is for sure, and I never tire of repeating it, in a democracy you get the government you deserve!

 

There are disasters and there are mishaps

First of all, let me tell you that blogging might be slightly patchy, in fact, slightly damp patchy over the next day or two because my hot water tank burst with the sort of disasterous results you can well imagine.  My despair and fury was only alleviated by a sudden remembrance of those poor people in the mid-west of America where, in a matter of minutes, whole communities were reduced to matchwood by hurricanes, and of course, those Japanese slugged by an earthquake and then hit by tons of encroaching seawater.  They were entitled, Lear-like, to shake their puny fists at the sky and cry:

As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods,

They kill us for their sport.

I, on the other hand, with my pathetic bits of soggy carpet and stained ceiling and no hot water was only entitled to repeat the same four-letter word over and over again which I did with increasing venom until the 'Memsahib' told me to pull myself together and do something practical!  Practical?  Me?  Well, that at least provided the first laugh.  Anyway, all is now in hand and at least I get a nice hot shower at the swimming pool every morning - have I told you I go swimming every morning - oh, really, that many times - and our kind neighbours invited the 'Memsahib' in to use their shower, so all's well that ends well, or it will be when I finish signing all the cheques!

Even so, my mind keeps flicking to those anguished people in America and Japan who have lost everything.

Good News, more Good News; Bad News, more Bad News

The news of the execution, long over due, of bin Laden comes under all of those headings.  'Good News' because his money and influence were a continuing threat to us in the west.  Even more 'Good News' because of the certainty that whilst over-running his HQ establishment the US forces will have taken every document and mobile 'phone they found which is likely to prove a treasure chest of intelligence data.

The 'Bad News' is that very soon some innocent people, somewhere, are going to die as a direct result of this operation when the Islamists in their fury strike back.  It will not be on the grand scale of the twin towers attack; like Pearl Harbour, you only get one chance for a surprise attack like that.  However, more 'Bad News' will be found in Obama's poll ratings which will hurtle upwards as the American public give him the benefit.  Happily, this will not last because as the months go on and they will find their grocery bills growing and growing and nothing hurts like a hurting wallet.

I refuse to climb on some sort of moral plaform to declaim on the monstrosity of bin Laden's attack.  He, back then and up until yesterday, considered himself to be at war with the West and when you are at war you use the weapons you have to hand.  It ill-behooves westerners to pile execrations on his head when we, ourselves, deliver death and destruction from the skys in pursuance of what we consider to be our national interests.  He did what he thought he had to do, and we returned the compliment!