DUFF & NONSENSE!

Next week could be make or break for the Tories

As they huddle together at the Tory party conference next week the party will be surrounded, not just by marauding Left-wing yobs and slavering political commentators but, more menacingly, by a disgruntled and jaundiced electorate who are looking for actions, not 'all-things-to-all-people' platitudes such as "we must look after the 'just managing'".  The chances of anything even approaching 'a game-saver' programme passing the pursed lips of Mrs. May is exceedingly tiny.  Anyone who spent an entire election campaign endlessly spouting "Brexit means Brexit" when it became ever more clear that the actualité was, and still is, that Brexit means whatever 'Junck the Drunk' decides it means, cannot be trusted.  The millions who voted for Brexit are not amused!

As the Tories face the ludicrous, pie in the sky promises of 'Jezza' and his fanatical 'comintern' which, I am ashamed to say the GBP (Great British Public) are swallowing whole, it is vital that some concrete plans are unveiled which can be put into action immediately Parliament re-assembles.  Perhaps the most urgent is housing.  House-builders are sitting on huge swathes of undeveloped land happy to watch the value of it increase.  Then there are the local authorities who lack the guts to upset locals by granting permission for building, or allowing the builders to produce only 5-bedroom, detached houses which look 'awfully smart ' but which are way beyond the means of those most desperate to become home-owners.  It cannot be beyond the wit of even Tory ministers to devise ways of putting on 'the squeeze'.  And, of course, there are the zillions of empty acres owned either by HMG or by local authorities.  Get a grip, Mrs. May, just do it - and do it now - and then you have five years to reap the reward.

 

Muchas gracias, Ortega

I don't know why I bother with my 'Google Translate' Spanish in my title because my e-pal, Ortega, speaks and reads perfectly good English.  However, in a comments thread a few posts down, he sent a link to an article which provides an excellent summary of the background to the dangerously mounting anger and resentment produced by the Catalonian demand for independence. 

I am, therefor, exceedingly grateful to him for the link because, although it is obviously in favour of keeping Spain united, it does provide an exceedingly excellent briefing on the history and a description of contemporary actions which are fast moving up into a potentially very dangerous level.  I urge you all to read it before 'la mierda golpea el ventilador' - I leave you all to guess what that is in English!

In the meantime, I hope that Spain/Catalonia can achieve a peaceful outcome not least because I have many fond memories of Spain and the Spanish.

https://hayderecho.com/2017/09/26/the-catalan-problem-for-dummies/

 

 

Darlings, did the universe move for you?

Well, it jolly well should have because I have it on good authority that a massive 'coming together' has just occurred - no, no, no, I'm not talking about sex, behave!  I am referring to two heavenly bodies - and no, I'm still not talking about sex - which have, according to the space swots, collided, er, somewhere out there.  Happily, this head on smash occurred a considerable distance from Planet Earth so the resulting 'shock' wave resulted in a distortion of, well, um, one thousandth the width of a proton, actually, and 'as any fule do no', a proton is really, really titchy!

Perhaps, this less than earth-shattering event was due to the fact that it wasn't actually two bodies that collided but two black holes - and no, I have no idea what a 'black hole' is but according to the swots concerned, one of them was 25 times and the other 31 times the mass of our sun, although how a hole can have mass is yet another of life's mysteries to me.  Apparently, there have been three other smash ups between black holes since February last year so these black holes are obviously out of control and need to be spoken to severely!  Fortunately, our inter-galactic 'boys in blue' are right on the job operating from their Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory, or LIGO. 

So that's alright then!

 

Death of a titan, oooops, sorry, I mean a titman!

Alas, the death has been announced of Hugh Hefner, the playboy of all playboys, and we shall not look upon his like again, er, not that any of us blokes particularly wanted to look upon him, it was his girlies we yearned for.

No wonder he looks somewhat smug in that photo.  To have spent your life surrounded by the most gorgeous girls in the world all of whom were desperate to win your favour must have been a sort of heaven so it is remarkable, when you think about it, that it has taken 91 years before he reached the real heaven.  I was also struck by one little item in his Wiki entry, the fact that "Sylvilagus palustris hefneri, an endangered subspecies of Marsh rabbit, is named after him in honor of financial support that he provided" for its preservation.  A rabbit!  Whodathunkit? 

Anyway, thanks Hugh, you and your Playboy magazine provided me with many, er, solitary moments of pleasure which is more than Newsweek or Time ever did!

 

Look out, the Christians are coming, the Christians are coming!

Let me begin with my usual apology for my dismal ignorance on yet another subject.  Whilst I have always found history to be fascinating the fact is that my knowledge of it is patchy!  For example, ancient history is a definite 'no-no' for me.  It was either the Greeks bashing the Romans or the Romans bashing the Persians or the Persians bashing the Greeks, whatever, it's all Greek to me!  As for the advent of Christianity, alas, most of my knowledge comes from Monty Python's "Life of Brian".  Mind you, I did once read a proper book on the lives of the early Christian saints and preachers and I have always been hugely impressed at the speed with which 'the Word' spread across the ancient world in a time of crude and dangerous travel techniques.  Whist I can't recall the name of the book, I do remember enjoying a cynical smile at how very quickly the early church became more and more bureaucratic with 'rules and regs' far from anything Jesus ever taught!

Today, another book has been published which has been reviewed in various papers and mags and which, from the reviews, looks likely to produce even more sniggers from me plus some eye-ball rolling.  The book is The Darkening Age: The Christian Destruction of the Ancient World by Catherine Nixey.  She is, apparently, a correspondent for The Times as well as an historian.  From what I can gather from the reviews, if you want to know what it was like back in the day when the Christians over-ran the ancient Western world, just think what life will be like if ISIS actually win!  Yeeeeeees, quite!  Frankly, I blame that Emperor Constantine in AD312 who for some reason gave up tossing Christians to the lions and instead, converted and from then on it was Christians getting their own back against the pagans.  And it was not just people who were crushed but also famous buildings and works of art.  Those ISIS fighters who destroyed the ancient buildings in towns in the Middle East were just carrying on old traditions!

Anyway, sorry 'SoD' but that's another book to add to my Xmas Wish List but it's only £10 quid on Kindle so nothing to a man of your means and, as I keep reminding you, you can never do enough for your poor, old Dad!

 

 

Are you 'Uber' confused?

Well, I was when some bureaucratic 'jobsworths' decided to withdraw the Uber licence to operate in London.  I have never used their service but 'SoD' has and he never stops singing their praises.  When it happened there was an immediate outcry with defenders and opponents shrieking from the roof tops so it was difficult to weigh the pros and cons.

Happily today, over at The Coffee House, an Uber driver gives his inside story of working for the company.  Suffice to say that I was seriously impressed and also educated.  Of course, the whole notion of what is called 'the gig economy' where-in 'workers' are self-employed and in some instances free to work when they feel like it, is anathema to anyone of a socialist and/or trade union disposition.  As for the bureaucrats, they faint at the thought!

Read the article and see what you think.

 

What's the German for 'get me outta here'?

I ask because I suspect that is what 'Mutti' Merkel is muttering under her breath as she contemplates the difficulties of forming a coalition to run Germany.  As usual, 'A E-P' in The Telegraph describes elegantly the huge pile of political poo steaming gently on 'Mutti's' desk this morning.  In order to form a governing administration, she needs must cut a deal with the Greenie-loonies, just one of whose main demands is that Germany must ban all fossil-fuelled engines by 2030. Cue: fainting fits in the boardrooms of Mercedes and BMW!

Then she must attempt to make a bargain with the FDP which, as far as I can make out arose from an act of intercourse between Adam Smith and Friedrich Hayek!  These staunch 'Free Marketeers' are insisting that there be absolutely no debt pooling in Europe, no European Finance Ministry, no debt relief for Greece unless it leaves the euro currency and the imposition of strikt financial conditions on any country seeking a bail out.  Rumours of the sudden death of 'Junck the Drunk' are believed, unfortunately, to be exaggerated!

Another victim of collateral damage from this incredible election result is little mini-Macron who was absolutely depending on 'Mutti' Merkel to help re-energise the whole European project and given his proven success with, er, older ladies you can understand his confidence.  Alas, 'A E-P' reports that "Le Monde quoted him remarking that he is “dead” if Chancellor Merkel teams up with the FDP."  Now, remind me, what is the French for 'oh dear what a pity never mind!'   Finally, 'Mutti' is facing pressure from her mainly Bavarian allies, the CDU, who were well and truly outflanked by the FDP in their heartlands.

And we think we have problems!

 

Always beware interfering in a friend's domestic!

As regular readers will know, I count myself as a friend of America, although given the amount of problems they always face they need me like a hole in the head!  Even so, I am troubled by the latest example of domestic friction 'over there' in which sundry 'thick as planks' football players have decided to voice their, er, sense of grievance, not because they are only paid about $1million a year instead of the $2million they probably feel they're entitled to, but because they feel that their black racial group is being discriminated against by the police and by the government.  In their dim-witted way they seem to have forgotten that they have just enjoyed - er, they did enjoy it, didn't they? - eight years of being ruled by a black President.

In order to protest at this 'vile' condition they have taken to insulting the flag and the anthem of their own country.   So, just another case of 'same old same old' because I can just about remember decades ago some black American idiots giving a black power salute at the Olympic games. 

Well, that made all the difference, didn't it?!  However, today the situation is indeed very different because the Americans now have a President with a far larger mouth than brain, a man incapable of actually thinking before honking!  He seems unable to grasp that indeed, America is the land of the free which means that as an American citizen you are entitled to refuse to stand for the national anthem.  Threatening to fire anyone from their job because they express a political view different from the President is the stuff of tin-pot dictatorships, not that of the world's leading democracy.  

Needless to say that this unwanted interference from me into the domestic fray of the USA will almost certainly bring down a ton of brown stuff on my innocent head but I was only trying to help - honest!  

 

So, Mutti, not quite so 'Deutschland über alles', then!

As expected, 'Mutti' Merkel was given a slap by her less than grateful electorate in much the same way that Mrs. May was by the GBP (Great British Public)!  However, there was some difference in that Mrs. May's foolishness opened a door for the CLP (Communist Labour Party) where-as 'Mutti' let in a party of fierce Right-wingers.  (A pause here because I wish to make it clear that I am not at all sure just how Right-wing the AfD actually is.  The notion that they are jack-booted Nazis marching in memory of Hitler is, of course, possible but for the moment it remains unproven and most of those accusing them are soppy Left-wingers who shriek 'Nazi' at anyone who fails to support their daft ideas.)

Even so, this was hardly the time for 'Mutti' to be in a position where it will be exceedingly tricky for her to form a government.  In a fascinating article in The Telegraph, A E-P analyses the fundamental fault lines that Germany will face in the coming years.  Apparently, 'Mutti' has rather sat on her hands when it comes to dealing with various fault-lines running through the German economy.

Germany’s Council of Economic Experts rebukes Angela Merkel’s coalition for failing to fix the roof while the sun is shining. The political class is “resting on its laurels”, lulled into a false sense of security by the prop of a cheap exchange rate and a temporary remission in the eurozone crisis.
“The reform track record of the current government is disappointing. The economically successful period was not used sufficiently to prepare the German economy for disruptive technological changes,” it said.

As I have said before, many a time and oft', the German government has enjoyed the huge benefits of a dirt cheap euro and an influx of even cheaper foreign workers which is why, of course, 'Mutti' and her ilk are so pro-EU.  On the back of these effects, German engineering has benefited enormously.  Alas, all good times eventually come to an end especially if you refuse to adapt to future trends.  Thus it is with German industry:

German industry may have perfected the proverbial spark plug but it has been left behind by the information and data revolution.  Less than 1.8pc of broadband connections in the country use high-speed fibre that is 20 times faster. Lower than Turkey and Mexico, and the lowest in the OECD club. The system still relies on copper wire.

The government refused to exploit the lowest borrowing costs in history - below zero for seven years even today - to upgrade its outdated infrastructure. Net public investment has been negative for most of the last fifteen years. Finance minister Wolfgang Schauble has pursued his Holy Grail of a balanced budget, disregarding all else. This is now written into the constitution.

According to A E-P, Germany has enormous problems looming because its manufacturing sector is under threat from China and its technology sector faces enormous pressures from Silicon Valley.  I would urge you all to read A E-P's article.  Exactly what effect a German decline will mean for European politics is beyond my remit but I see troubles ahead!

 

 

 

Your Monday Funnies: 25.9.17

A definite touch of Autumn here this morning so I guess all you wage slaves will be immensely grateful for this fine selection of good humour - sorry, I didn't quite catch that! 

I'm about to take part in the Great Bradford Run in  the U K .   It's not an official race, I just stand in the city centre & shout "Allah is a Tosser" & then off we go….

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A government survey has shown that 91% of illegal immigrants come to Britain so that they can see their own doctor.

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I've just fitted strobe lights in the bedroom, It makes the wife look like she's moving during sex.

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Two Thai girls asked me if I'd like to go bed with them, they said it would be just like winning the lottery!   I agreed, and they were right.   We all stripped off and to my horror, we had six matching balls!

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A Muslim has died whilst training to be a Skydiver.   The "British National Party School of Diving" said they had no idea why his snorkel and flippers did not open.

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Such an unfair world:- When a man talks dirty to a woman its considered sexual harassment.
When a woman talks dirty to a man it's 2.50/min (charges may vary).

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Just booked a table for Valentines Day for me and the wife.   Bound to end in tears though; she's crap at snooker.

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Got a new Jack Russell pup today, he's mainly black and brown with just a small white area.   I've called him London.

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If you get an email telling you that you can catch Swine Flu from tins of ham then delete it.   It's probably Spam.

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They say that sex is the best form of exercise.   Correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think 2 minutes and 15 seconds every 3 months is going to shift this beer belly

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An Australian ventriloquist who was visiting New Zealand walked into a small town and saw a local sitting on his veranda patting his dog. 

He thinks to himself that he'll have a little fun, so he says to the Kiwi “G'day. Mate mind if I talk to your dog?' 

Local: 'The dog dusn't talk, yu shchupid Aussie.” 

Ventriloquist: 'Hello dog. How's it going mate?' 

Dog: 'Yeah. Doin' all right cuz.' 

Kiwi: (look of extreme shock) 

Ventriloquist: 'Is this bloke your owner?' (pointing at the the Kiwi) 

Dog: 'Yup' 

Ventriloquist: 'How does he treat you?' 

Dog: 'Yeah, real good Bro. He walks me twice a day, feeds me good food and takes me to the lake once a week to play.' 

Kiwi: (look of utter disbelief) 

Ventriloquist: 'Mind if I talk to your horse there?' 

Kiwi: 'Uh, the horse dusn't talk either...I thunk.' 

Ventriloquist: 'Hey horse. How's it going cuz?' 

Horse: ‘OK' 

Kiwi: (absolutely dumbfounded) 

Ventriloquist: 'Is this your owner?' (pointing at the Kiwi) 

Horse: 'Yup' 

Ventriloquist: How does he treat you? 

Horse: 'Prutty good end thunks for askin. He rides me regularly, brushes me down uften and keeps me en the shed to prutect me from the ulumunts.'

Kiwi: (total look of amazement)

Ventriloquist: 'Mind if I talk to your sheep?'

Kiwi: (in a panic)  -  ‘The sheep’s a liar..'

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The following selection is a little too close to home to be that funny but still . . .

 

Three old guys are out walking. 

First one says, 'Windy, isn't it?' 

Second one says, 'No, it's Thursday!' 

Third one says, 'So am I. Let's go get a beer..'

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An old man was telling his neighbour, 'I just bought a new hearing aid. It cost me four thousand dollars, but it's state of the art.. It's perfect.' 

'Really,' answered the neighbour, 'What kind is it?' 

'Twelve thirty..' 

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A little old man shuffled slowly into an ice cream parlour and pulled himself slowly, painfully, up onto a stool.

After catching his breath, he ordered a banana split. 

The waitress asked kindly, 'Crushed nuts?' 

'No,' he replied, 'Arthritis.' 

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Two elderly gentlemen  from a retirement center were sitting on a bench under a tree when one turns to the other and says:
 
'Slim, I'm 83 years old now and I'm just full of aches and pains. I know you're about my age. How do you feel?' 
 

Slim says, 'I feel just like a newborn baby.' 
 
'Really!? Like a newborn baby!?' 
 

'Yep. No hair, no teeth, and I think I just wet my pants.'

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That's your lot, I'm just off to find my zimmer frame and change my nappies!

 

The Sunday Rumble: 24.9.17

Will 'Mutti' waltz back into power?   Almost certainly, according to the 'experts' but then they said that about 'HillBilly'!  The really serious question is how well, or badly, the Right-wing AfD party will do at today's election?  The thought of an extreme Right-wing party gaining influence in German political circles is enough to make me swallow!  Mind you, just exactly how extreme they are is not clear.  Being anti-EU is not proof positive of Nazi tendencies despite the squeaks and squeals of EU fanatics.  Now, what's the German for 'we shall see what we shall see'?

 

Meanwhile, the bullfight in Catalonia kicks off:   I haven't followed the story in detail but the temperature and pressure between the Spanish government and the provincial Catalan authority seems to be rising by the day as the latter persist in making arrangements for an independence referendum.  What's the Spanish for "Stand-by for incoming"?

 

It's all us old, white men wot dunnit!   Well, when it comes to giggling, or yawning, whenever the tedious subject of anthropological global warming is raised, then according to 'The Graun' it's old, white geezers like me who are to blame.  However, Mr. Ross Clark at The Spectator is quick to provide a context:

But then an awful lot of the people who bang on most about climate change being an ominous threat to Mankind look pretty white and male to me, too. Al Gore, Nicholas Stern, George Monbiot, Lord Gummer and all the rest. Come to think of it, I can’t recall ever seeing a young black female propounding on climate change, either positively or sceptically. It might have something to do with the fact that Western civilisation in general, where a lot of this science is done, after all is still predominantly white. Or maybe the entire field of climate science is what the Guardian would call institutionally racist and sexist.

 

Are our Chief Constables really robots?   There was a time, which may or may not have been quite as blissful as I like to think of it, when Chief Constables were always retired senior army officers.  They may not have been too bright but they usually had some common-sense.  Today, they are all dim 'ex-PC Plods' who have greased their way up the slippery pole by swallowing every bit of politically correct nonsense.  Either that, or the government has secretly replaced them with robots.  A typical example is the Chief Constable of Wiltshire Police who has seized upon allegations that the late Ted Heath was a 'kiddie-fiddler'.  He began his dim-witted campaign by holding a public press conference outside the home of the former PM in which an appeal was made for information from any victims.  Cue: a rush by every publicity-seeking nutter who could smell the chance of financial gain.  So far, the 'investigation' has lasted two years and cost £1.5 million.  A summary is expected on Oct 5th in which it will be admitted that there is not a shred of evidence.  Can we expect that the Chief Constable might be reduced to the ranks?  Don't hold your breath!

 

How hard can it be to land a plane?   That's a question raised in The Telegraph today but happily I can answer it.  It's damned near impossible!  I know this for a fact because, courtesy of my trusty Microsoft Flight Simulator, I have crashed just about every aircraft in more locations than you can think of!  My old joystick still stands on a small table next to my computer, covered in dust, because I haven't touched it for years since I decided to retire from crashing, er, I mean, flying.  Mind you, seeing that article has brought it all back so maybe I might give it another try.  Jolly good show, 'wizard prang' and all that sort of thing!

 

'Jezza' dodges the bullet - again!   The Communist Labour Party (CLP), never comfortable with democracy for any of us, has now decided to ban it for their own members at their party conference.  Like the Tories, they are split between 'Brexiteers' and 'Remoaners' but the 'Central Committee' has decided that they will not permit a public debate on the matter - even if it is far and away the biggest political controversy for decades.  Tells you all you need to know about 'Jezza' and his Comintern!

 

Hitler's underpants sell for £5,000:   Whodathunkit?  Or perhaps more to the point, who would have bought them?  According to The Sun (We Love it!), they came up for auction in Maryland, USA.

I'm sure they are genuine although they seem to be a bit on the voluminous side give that the old song has it that "Hitler, he's only got one ball"!

 

The pollsters were right - for a change:   It looks as though 'Mutti' Merkel has - sort of - won her election but the moderate SPD on whom she was relying to form a coalition government were well and truly spanked and they have opted for opposition.  The big winners were the dreaded Right-wing AfD party, so that leaves 'Mutti' with only the Greenie loonies and the ultra-Left FDP to help her form a coalition government.  One expert is already forecasting another election fairly soon. 

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

No, seriously, I truly am worried about America

Frankly, I blame the internet!  During most of my life news from America came in short bursts via the radio (remember those?) or TV or the occasional reports in the press.  Looking back I realise that I did not possess any depth of knowledge about America, only a series of impressions, some good, some not so good but mostly, if subconsciously, it was a sort of "shining city upon a hill whose beacon light guides freedom-loving people everywhere".  Yes, yes, of course the beacon flickered from time to time but compared to other powerful nations from whom no light ever escaped, America was, on the whole, to be admired.

Today, better informed perhaps, although not expertly so, 'I 'ha'e ma doots'.  Over recent decades the news, which now arrives daily by dump truck compared to the snippets I used to get, has become truly depressing.  I read the latest story today by Andrew C. McCarthy at the National Review.  In it he reviews the actions taken by the Federal Government in pursuit of Trump's former campaign manager, Mr. Paul Manafort.  Taking Mr. McCarthy at his word, there is, on the face of it, little to admire about Mr. Manafort who is, by all accounts a dodgy, 'duck 'n' dive' merchant who moves in and around and through Big International Money irrespective of which country it might originate from.

For reasons which I still do not fully understand, a fanatical investigator by the name of Robert Mueller was employed by Trump's own Justice Department to investigate allegations - allegations, mind! - that Manafort was complicit in some scheme in which Trump colluded with Russian intelligence agencies to interfere with the election.  The important point is, according to Mr. McCarthy, that Congress is already investigating Manafort and he is fully co-operating with them.  So this is not a man who is giving the impression of attempting to hide something.  Even so, Mueller and his thuggish acolytes talked a judge into issuing a search warrant of Manafort's home executed at night.

It was not enough to get a search warrant to ransack the Virginia home of Paul Manafort, even as the former Trump campaign chairman was cooperating with congressional investigators. Mueller’s bad-asses persuaded a judge to give them permission to pick the door lock. That way, they could break into the premises in the wee hours, while Manafort and his wife were in bed sleeping. They proceeded to secure the premises — of a man they are reportedly investigating for tax and financial crimes, not gang murders and Mafia hits — by drawing their guns on the stunned couple, apparently to check their pajamas for weapons. [My emphasis]

Remember, this is not a man running a mafia gang or importing tons of dope from Mexico whose house has armed guards round it 24/7.  He is a Washingtonian political/financial operator who was already co-operating with Congress and whose lawyers had already handed over some 300 documents as requested.  Obviously Manafort moves in murky waters but so does almost everyone in Washington but does his wife deserve to have armed men bursting into her bedroom in the middle of the night?  Can you imagine the terror she must have felt?

If Mueller and his knuckle-dragging hit-men fail to produce enough evidence of a serious crime such that midnight raids and drawn guns were required then he, himself, should be put through the wringer.  In any event, it makes Washington appear to be not much different from Moscow!

 

Yadda-yadda-yadda and how it all began

I am grateful to The Spectator for this illustration of, thank goodness, a not fully homo erectus, or, as I like to think of him, everyone's great^100m granddad!

 

According to a book by Mr. Daniel L. Everett entitled How Language Began, reviewed by Harry Ritchie in 'the Speccie', this chatterbox was the one who first developed language.  That ability, of course, was absolutely crucial in the advancement of Man beyond the animals.

I am happy to report that Mr. Everett's book knocks that daft, old Leftie, Noam Chomsky, into the long grass.  He, of course, had developed some particularly arcane theories on linguistics which very few people ever understood any better than his Marxist theories!  According to Chomsky, it all happened in an instant but Mr. Everett's thesis is that it developed very, very gradually in true Darwinian style.  On the shelf next to my chair I have a copy of Stephen Pinker's book The Language Instinct which I did read absolutely 'yonks' ago but for the life of me I can't remember what it said - typical!  Anyway, I think Mr. Everett's book will have to go on my Xmas Wish List which I just know 'SoD' is eager to receive on the 1st of December!

How Language Began: The Story of Humanity's Greatest Invention

 

 

Just another step and twirl in the Brexit tango

Everyone, except me, is getting very excited over Mrs. May's speech in Florence today.  I can't think why because it will change nothing.  Despite her (in)famous words that "Brexit means Brexit" her main concern is to keep her cabinet together because if they split then that will lead to another election which the Communist Labour party will probably win.  That prospect alone should be enough to concentrate even the simple minds of all her ministers be they 'Brexiteers' or 'Remoaners'.  My guess is that her speech today will be an emollient one designed to show that we Brits, in our frightfully decent, 'fair play', 'anyone for cricket?' way are genuinely seeking a compromise.

Of course, it will not work because, as I have said before, the Euro-fanatics in the Berlin-Brussels apparat are determined that Britain must be severely punished, nay, humiliated, for our dastardly crime in turning up our noses at the stinking pile of corrupt and undemocratic offal on which the likes of 'Junck the Drunk' live so grandly.  The European dislike, verging on hatred, for the British is partly based on our perpetual 'odd man out' behaviour over the past 40+ years as they stitched together their nefarious deals but also, and I suspect more strongly, on our history over the past few centuries.  Also, of course, they intend to publicly flay us alive pour encourager les autres, lest any of those uppity East or Med Europeans begin to get ideas above their station which is, obviously, that they remain mere vassal provinces in 'Mutti' Merkel's Reich!

Bring it on, I say, because the more vicious and uncompromising they are the more eager we Brits will be to get out.

 

 

Pidcock or pillock? You decide!

Allow me to introduce you to Ms. Laura Pillock Pidcock MP, the Labour member for North West Durham.

This formidable political philosopher has just announced that she will never - NEVER-EVER! - be friends with a Tory!  Her hatred of them is, using her own word, visceral, so for her to actually enter the dreaded House of Commons which is packed to the rafters with such scum shows her considerable courage and sense of duty.  I trust the numpties people of North West Durham are full of admiration for their new MP.

According to her Wiki entry, this class warrior originally worked as a "mental health support worker" - whatever that is! - but under her parents' influence spent a great deal of her time attending Left wing activities.  Perhaps she should have concentrated on her mental health job given that, according to an interview in The Spectator, "Her constituency has the highest rate of suicides in the country".  Why am I not surprised?  They must be a bunch of nutters 'oooop there' if they chose this total dipstick to represent them!

 

 

 

Schadenfreude - simply too, too delicious!

Of course, taking pleasure in someone else's distress and misery is not a nice way to behave, er, except if the sufferer is Mr. Michael O'Leary and his crap airline Ryanair!  I may have mentioned before that a few years ago the 'Memsahib' and I had to fly to an obscure airport in rural France and Ryanair was the only carrier.  Almost from the beginning the experience of dealing with them was deeply unpleasant.  The hectoring tone of their e-mails and their constant warning that everything, like breathing in, let alone breathing out, would be charged extra was nearly enough to make me cancel the trip.

So you can imagine me hugging myself at the recent news that Ryanair has been forced to cancel thousands of flights for a variety of reasons including the fact that their pilots are decamping en masse to join a new start-up airline run by Norwegians.  I actually began to dribble with pleasure seeing that jumped-up, greedy, little Paddy, Michael O'Leary, looking utterly miserable as he was forced to cancel thousands of flights which will cost him a few zillion quid, to say nothing of the acres of bad publicity which have filled the prints for the last couple of days.

 

 

Suck it up, Paddy, just like your customers have been forced to do all these years!  Ms. Janet Street-Porter sums it all up in The Mail:

 

This pugnacious, mouthy character- the one that ‘joked’ he’d like to charge passengers to use the bathroom, and told customers ‘you’re not getting a refund so f*** off’- is in serious danger of losing his job (even though he’s the largest shareholder) after suddenly cancelling 2,000 flights over the next six weeks, affecting over 400,000 passengers.
O’Leary says he has simply ‘messed up’ and there are no staff shortages, just pilots who need to take their holidays. 
Insiders reckon that 140 pilots have left Ryanair in the last year to work for one of his rivals.

As I said in my title, too, too delicious!

 

 

"An upstart crow"

'Heavens to Betsy', the other night I actually watched something enjoyable on my 'telly' and, moreover, it made me laugh!  I refer, as per my title, to the second series written by Ben Elton of "The Upstart Crow" - how the hell did I miss the first series?!  The title, of course, comes from a passage in Robert Greene's pamphlet from the early 1590s entitled "A Groats-Worth of Wit" in which he gave that jumped up Will Shakespeare a right good slap:

"...for there is an upstart Crow, beautified with our feathers, that with his Tygers hart wrapt in a Players hyde, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blanke verse as the best of you: and being an absolute Johannes fac totum, is in his owne conceit the onely Shake-scene in a countrey".

Ooooooh, bitchy!  Still, how comforting to know that 'luvvie-land' was just as 'snidey' back then as it is today.  Anyway, I recommend Ben Elton's TV show which is both very knowledgeable on Shakespeare's works as well as very witty.  I like to think that old Will, himself, would have had a chuckle.

 

The Trump(et) sounds

And no, thank you for asking, but I did not sit and watch President Trump's speech at the United Nations yesterday.  Apart from anything else, it might have clashed with 'Midsomer Murders', a favourite with the 'Memsahib' and any attempt by me to change channels might have resulted in a 'Midzummerzet' murder!  Instead, this morning I turned to the trusty National Revue (NR) which features not only an analysis by their editorial board but also several other contributions from different commentators.

By and large, the verdicts, with reservations, seem favourable even if the acerbic David French cannot resist reminding us that President Trump's "promises aren’t worth the pixels they’re printed on" - ouch!  But as the writers remind us, and as 'The Donald' is gradually learning the hard way, there are severe limits as to what can be done, not just with North Korea but with all the other trouble-makers in the world.  For me, it has been a fascinating few months watching the 'Tweeter-in-Chief of the United States' hurl himself against various brick walls, only to bounce back and fall flat on his arse!  He reminds me of certain bloggers - no names, no pack drill! - whose absolute certainties exceeds their knowledge and experience by a 'yuuuuuuge' distance.

I will let the combined editors of the NR sum up:

"Trump’s foreign policy is a work in progress. So far he has steered clear of the follies that seemed possible during the campaign — turning his back on NATO, for instance — and, in fact, hasn’t plowed much new ground. With the exception of the welcome pullout from the Paris accords, the president has accepted the status quo. In North Korea and Iran, that means failure. Trump has put the world unmistakably on notice that he’s unhappy with this state of affairs. Now, he and his team need concrete strategies that better serves our interests — as a sovereign nation and a world leader.

Personally, I am just relieved that President Trump seems to be learning, albeit the hard way, that international politics makes quantum physics look easy!

 

Good Golly, Dr. Gilley, hush your mouth!

I am grateful to my e-pal, Whitewall, for sending me a link to a site called 'Legal Insurrection' which featured a report on the activities of Dr. Bruce Gilley, a professor of political science at Portland State University.  Before I go into details I should just make clear that I am exceedingly doubtful that politics can ever be scientific!  Even so, Dr. Gilley, whilst he may not win any further awards after his PhD, or indeed, might not even be able to hang on to his PhD, deserves a medal of some sort for proposing - gulp! - colonialism wasn't that bad, and indeed, that it had some very positive advantages for the colonised.  Cue: shrieks of 'shlock-horror' from the usual suspects.  Here is a photo of Dr. Gilley and I can't help thinking that it would have been more in character if he had simply held up one finger!

Personally, I am not able to decide whether colonialism was, in the words of Sellars & Yeatman, "A Good Thing" or "A Bad Thing" and in any case it is a moot point because one thing is for sure - it was inevitable!  In support of Dr. Gilley's opinion, I would simply say a word on behalf of Indian widows.  Prior to us cruel Brits taking over their country, it was an established custom that any Indian wife who had the temerity to outlive her husband would be tied to a stake and burned alive!  We put a stop to that.  So there are quite a few Indian widows who should be most grateful!

 

Normal service has resumed, er, I think!

My problem with MS failing to forward e-mails seems to have been resolved, there were a stack of them waiting for me this morning.  Thank you, SoD, for your investigations into the background.  If only you could apply some of that brain power into thinking straight about the Berlin-Brussels apparat I might reconsider leaving you my overdraft when I die!

Humbuggery - Hollywood style

There is always a faint whiff of humbuggery around 'luvvies' whose entire working lives are spent pretending to be what they are not.  However, from time to time the whiff becomes a stench, as in the example of Mr. Matt Damon, the 'Bourne pretender'!  He has just produced a film based on his absolute belief that private schools are bad and public schools are good - I use the American meanings of 'private/public' here because it is an American story.  Mr. Damon, perhaps influenced by his somewhat fanatical mother, is really-really - no, I mean, really! - anti private schools and is 'yuuuugely' in favour of state education.

Er, well, except for his own 'likkle kiddie-winkies', of course who he sends to a private school - whodathunkit?  He explains it thus:

“Sending our kids in my family to private school was a big, big, big deal. And it was a giant family discussion,” Damon told The Guardian. “But it was a circular conversation, really, because ultimately we don’t have a choice. I mean, I pay for a private education and I’m trying to get the one that most matches the public education that I had, but that kind of progressive education no longer exists in the public system. It’s unfair.”

Ya see, life is soooo mean and unfair to multi-millionaires, you have no idea!  Like, just in the last few days it has been reported that Mr. Damon has purchased an exclusive penthouse in Brooklyn Heights for $16 million.  Perhaps the last word should go to Time magazine who have dubbed the entire tale "The Bourne Hypocrisy"!

Hat tip to 'I Hate The Media'

 

More Housman

Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;
What use to rise and rise?
Rise man a thousand mornings
Yet down at last he lies,
And then the man is wise.

Yet another review of Peter Parker's book on A. E. Housman, this time by Adam Kirsch at The Atlantic, via A&LDaily.  I'm afraid this really does have to go on my book wish list which I send to SoD on the 1st December and which is threatening to run to several pages this year!

I am not a literary critic - and you can stop that nodding now! - so I find it difficult to explain quite why his poetry touches me.  I will leave it to Mr. Kirsch to put it into words for me:

The 63 lyrics in that book, first published in 1896, have a purity of speech and intensity of feeling that lent the collection the aura of a classic from the moment of its appearance. “You may read it in half-an-hour,” said one early reviewer of the book, “but there are things in it you will scarce forget in a lifetime.” What Housman writes about, almost without exception, is sorrow: lost love, nostalgia, mutability, grief, and death. He seems to understand everything about the pain of life, and the beauty of that pain—the way suffering itself can become a source of bittersweet pleasure. He is a poet who can’t listen to a blackbird sing without hearing a summons to the grave.

Also, I think, it is the deceptive simplicity of his verse that makes it strike home.  I have spent a considerable amount of time working on Shakespeare's texts which can be unbelievably complex and in comparison Housman's verse seems almost child-like and yet ... and yet ... with unerring accuracy it hits the target of one's sensibility.

In the end he achieved a 'successful' life in academia but the wound and scar he suffered when his hopeless homosexual love for his fellow student, Moses Jackson, was firmly rebuffed never healed.  He retreated into somewhat prickly isolation and his apparently 'simple' poems were in fact one long howl of anguish.

Others, I am not the first,
Have willed more mischief than they durst;
If in the breathless night I too
Shiver now, ’tis nothing new.

More than I, if truth were told,
Have stood and sweated hot and cold,
And through their reins in ice and fire
Fear contended with desire.

 

Housman Country: Into the Heart of England by Peter Parker

 

 

Going to the moon was a doddle compared to this

I am greatly indebted to Mr. Silvio Canto, Jr, who, via The American Thinker, has kicked off my fascination with one of the most incredible stories in the whole of human history.  My pleasure in being given this kick in the shins reminder of the almost unbelievable courage and fortitude of the human race is only marred by my disgraceful ignorance of the subject.  We humans have much to be ashamed of but from time to time there occur actions of super-heroic proportions that leave one humbled.  In writing this post I am all too aware that it will result in much eye-ball rolling amongst my American readers, but, hey, I'm just a dim, dumb Brit and thus I have more than enough history to keep me occupied.

Anyway, after all that waffle let me come to the point.  I am referring to the good ship, Mayflower, and its stupendous - or was it just plain stupid? - voyage from England to America in 1620.  I do realise that the Atlantic had been crossed many a time and oft' before 1620 but in the main this dangerous journey was undertaken for that most fundamental of human motives - profit!  This contrasts with the voyage of the Mayflower which, whilst the ship-owners were in it for the money, the bulk of the 102 passengers were, in effect, Puritan refugees fleeing the attentions of the Church of England!  Well, the C of E might have been a bit fierce in those days but it was nothing to what the passengers of the Mayflower faced both on board and on land in a freezing Massachusetts' winter. Suffice to say that the death rate was enormous, roughly half of them perished.

I have had a quick read of the relevant Wiki entry but if anyone can recommend a good history of this event I would be very grateful.

 

Your Monday funnies: 18.9.17

What a relief to get off the subject of politics!  Here is another fine selection of jokes, all in the worst possible taste, natch!

An elderly Queensland man on the Atherton Tablelands, had owned a large farm for several years.  He had a big pond in the back. It was properly shaped for swimming, so he fixed it up nicely with picnic tables, horseshoe courts, and some apple and peach trees. One evening the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn't been there for a while, and look it over. He grabbed a twenty litre bucket to bring back some fruit. 

As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing. As he got closer, he saw it was a group of young women skinny-dipping in his pond. He made the women aware of his presence and they all went to the deep end. One of the women shouted to him, "We're not coming out until you leave.” The old man frowned, "I didn't come down here to watch you ladies swim naked or make you get out of the pond naked. Holding the bucket up he said, “I'm  here to feed the crocodile..."
                                                     
Some old men can still think fast.

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With the holidays close upon us, I would like to share a personal
experience with you, my friends, about drinking and driving.  As you know, some of us have been known to have brushes with the authorities from time to time, often on the way home after a "social session" with family or friends.

Well, two days ago, this happened to me. I was out for an
evening with friends and had  more than several whiskies followed by a couple of bottles of rather nice red wine and vodka shots. Although
relaxed, I still had the common sense to know I was  slightly over the
limit.  That's when I did something I've never done before - I took a taxi home!

Sure enough on the way there was a police roadblock, but since it
was a taxi they waved it past and I arrived home safely without incident.
 
This was a real surprise to me, because I had never driven a taxi before.  I don't know where I got it, and now that it's in my garage I don't know what to do with it.  So, anyway, if you want to borrow it give me a call!

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A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws of the church, by hand.

He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript.  So, the new monk goes to the Old Abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small
error in the first copy, it would never be picked up!  In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies. 

The head monk, says, "We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son." 

He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives, in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years.  Hours go by and nobody sees the Old Abbot.  So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him.  He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing.
 
"We missed the 'R'! We missed the 'R'!  We missed the bloody 'R'!"
 
His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably. The young monk asks the old Abbot, "What's wrong, father?"
 
With a choking voice, the old Abbot replies,
 
"The word was .... CELEBRATE".

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 1. I was devastated to find out my wife was having an affair but,
by turning to religion, I was soon able to come to terms with the whole thing. I converted to Islam, and we're stoning her in the morning!
 
2. The wife suggested I get myself one of those penis enlargers, so
I did. She's 25, and her name's Kathy.
 
3. Went to our local bar with my wife last night. Locals started shouting "pedophile!" and other names at me, just because my wife is 24 and I'm 50 It completely spoiled our 10th anniversary.
 
4. My son was thrown out of school today for letting a girl in his class give him a hand-job. I said "Son, that's three schools this year! You'd better stop before you're banned from teaching altogether."
 
5. The cost of living has now gotten so bad that my wife is having sex with me because she can't afford batteries.
 
6. A man calls 000 and says "I think my wife is dead". The operator says, "How do you know?" The man says "The sex is about the same, but the ironing is piling up!"
 
7. I was explaining to my wife last night that when you die you get
reincarnated, but must come back as a different creature. She said she
would like to come back as a cow. I said, "You obviously haven't been
listening."
 
8. My wife has been missing a week now. The police said to prepare for the worst. So, I had to go down to the charity shop to get all of her clothes back.
 
9. The Red Cross just knocked on my door and asked if we could contribute towards the floods in Pakistan. My wife said we'd love to,
but I told them that our garden hose only reaches the driveway.

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'What's in a name?'

A woman arrived at a party and while scanning the guests, she spotted an attractive man standing across the room, alone.
 
She approached him, smiled and said, “Hello, my name is Carmen”.

“That is a beautiful name. Is it a family name?”
 
She answered, “No, as a matter of fact, I gave it to myself. It represents the two things that I enjoy most: cars and men. Therefore, I chose Carmen.”
 
Then she asked, “What’s your name?”
 
He answered, “Bob Titsengolf.”

 

That's your lot, now get back to work!

 

The Sunday Rumble: 17.9.17

Who rules?   The (yet to be consummated!) 'mother of my children', as chosen, er, by me, actually, Ms. Janet Daly, has produced yet another acute analysis of the political scene in today's Telegraph following the hand-grenade lobbed into the Tory party by 'Boing-Boing' Boris on which I commented yesterday.  Her article is well worth reading.  It is particularly harsh on the effete and ineffectual leadership of Theresa May.  Boris has held back for some considerable time now during which the lacklustre Phil Hammond and his fellow 'Remoaners' have chipped away at the foundations of Brexit leaving David Davis and his fellow negotiators looking rather like Gen. Gordon and his lost army in Khartoum!  It is time for the militant Brexiteers to re-assert their authority which, I would remind all the excitable, verging on hysterical, 'Remoaners' who infest my comments section, is the democratic will of the British people as expressed in a scrupulously fair referendum.

 

Time and energy:   Fear not, this is not going to be another of my stumblebum efforts to enter the mysterious land of physics and philosophy.  Rather it is an explanation of my somewhat hit 'n' miss contributions to this blog in recent weeks.  As I have indicated before, the 'Memsahib' fractured her ankle and remains more or less bed or armchair bound.  Thus, a whole world of domestic duties has reverted to me, and yes, you're right, I'm not much bloody good at it!  On top of that an elderly (ie, even older than me!) relative who lives in a care home has been hospitalised which has required regular visits.  Whilst I have recovered from my hernia op, I still have my arthritic twinges and twangs which added to everything else produces severe tiredness.  So, instead of sitting here and creating endless witty, wise and sophisticated commentary - I take a nap instead!  (And I heard that muffled cheer!)

 

He did it again!   I refer, of course, to that splendid British gentleman of the first order, (Sir) Lewis Hamilton who has just romped home as winner of the Singapore Grand Prix.  Happily, the god of F1 racing ensured that that damned Hun was biffed out of the race which means that (Sir) Lewis now enjoys a 'yuuuuge' lead in the championship table.  Jolly good show!

 

The 'yurdey-durbles' let me down:   As I may have mentioned before on this blog, but only about 37 times so stop moaning, whilst I am not much of a 'telly-viewer', I do have a fondness for BBC4 on Saturday evenings when they feature foreign-made TV films of murder and mayhem.  Usually, those made by the 'yurdey-durbles' (that is, the Danes, Swedes or Norskies) are of excellent quality.  Last night was the first two episodes of a Swedish effort which, with the aid of my 'do-flicker-thingie', I actually managed to record.  I watched it, or some of it, this morning and it was total crap!  It's a good job (Sir) Lewis won this afternoon because I was in a foul mood!  Dammit, it now means that for the next few Saturday evenings I am going to have to talk to the 'Memsahib'!

 

The mind boggles:   I am grateful to The Mail on Sunday for this story which, whilst reducing me to giggles, also leaves me wondering ... how? ... why? ... what was he doing?

A man who stuck his penis in a dumbbell weight spent three hours surrounded by firefighters who sliced him free with power tools.
Angle grinders, a saw and a hydraulic rescue tool usually used to prize crash victims from vehicle wreckage were used to smash the 2.5kg disc on Friday.
This was after doctors were unable to remove the weight following the mishap at a gym in Worms, Germany. 

 

What's the Holodomor?    We have all heard of the Holocaust, almost to the point of nausea, but no-one mentions the Holodomor.  In the mass killing stakes, the Holodomor ran the Holocaust a close second.  It was Stalin's effort to eliminate the Ukrainians but lacking German expertise he used the old-fashioned method of mass starvation.  Approximately 4.5 million people died as a result.

Credit:  Theodor Innitzer/Alexander Wienerberger

Of course, neither Hitler nor Stalin achieved anywhere near the subsequent record of Mao Tse-tung which is roughly estimated to be around 40-70 million people.  However, as James Bartholomew points out in The Telegraph, whilst the Holocaust remains engraved on our consciousness the others are forgotten or simply remain unknown because no-one teaches them any more.  Mr. Bartholomew suggests that the time is due for a museum of communist atrocities to act as a constant reminder.

 

I knew Mozart and I had something in common:   Unfortunately it is not musical genius!  Apparently, Mozart treated himself to a pet starling and, as I told you before on this fascinating blog - and I heard that! - I am particularly fond of starlings, especially the family of Stan and Stella Starling and their children Stephen, Stacey, Stephanie and Stewart!  I am proud to say that they all make frequent use of my birdbath and are thus the cleanest starlings in 'Zummerzet'.  Alas, I can't say that they are particularly musical, they seem to chatter rather than sing.  Even so, I love them all because they are such characters.  Mind you, I am running out of first names beginning with 'St' so all contributions are welcome.

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

 

 

'BOING-BOING' - Boris bounces back

Only a few days ago various 'wiseacres' were asking where and why Boris had disappeared.  Was he contemplating early retirement?  Was he fearful of being accused of disloyalty to St. Theresa of May?  Or, and this, I admit was a possibility, was he was just plain bored with it all?  Anyway, 'with one bound he was free' today following the publication in The Telegraph of his ode to Brexit!  No ifs, no buts, just full-on Boris praising us Brits for voting to leave the increasingly centralised and mostly useless EU and revert once again to being an independent nation-state.

There is a tendency, of which I am somewhat guilty, to write off Boris as a sort of blonde, frightfully posh, public schoolboy who shares with 'The Donald' the unfortunate possession of more hair than brains!  The jury remains out as far as 'The Donald' is concerned but this carefully worded and even more carefully timed barrage from Boris indicates a shrewd operator.  He has rather faded from the political scene in recent weeks and thus could not be accused of pursuing treacherous leadership ambitions against 'She Who Must Be Obeyed'!  But now, with excellent timing as we approach the Tory party conference, he has issued his clarion call to the Brexiteers.  Nothing he has written could be construed as a threat to 'St. Theresa', indeed, he is merely reflecting her own mantra of "Brexit means Brexit",  or to put it another way, he is holding her feet to the fire!

Despite being Foreign Secretary, he has been scrupulous in avoiding any behaviour that could be construed as interfering with David Davis as he struggles to negotiate Brexit with a European apparat that is proving obdurate in its refusal to negotiate anything at all except a British surrender.  However, with this one article it is now clear that Boris intends to lead the Brexiteers to the exit - hoorah! 

 

It's a conspiracy, I tell you, a conspiracy!

So here I am, a poor old-age pensioner, just getting over a life-threatening hernia operation - well, the surgeon's life would have been at risk if he didn't get it right! - whilst also battling the ravages of rheumatoid arthritis, struggling manfully with Andrew Robert's massive missive on the life of Lord Salisbury, when I read in today's Spectator that the 'Heffalump' (aka: Simon Heffer) has just published a book covering the history of Britain from 1880 to 1914.  Perfect timing, I thought!

Then I read the review, growing ever more excited, until I reached the final paragraph:

The whole drama is well described here, but no new details are added to the many previous accounts. Heffer takes his book’s title from that of a lecture by A.J. Balfour — a man far better equipped for philosophy than for the role of prime minister, and who never bothered to read the newspapers — but is not wholly appropriate. And since few people will read this book from cover to cover, it would have been helpful to have published it in two volumes instead of the present monster, which weighs in at over three and a half pounds.[My emphasis]

Bloody hell! That means I will have to totter off to my local gym to do some more weight-lifting exercises!  Whatever happened to 'slim volumes'?  Also, I noticed that it cost thirty quid!  Ah well, that's another one to add to my 'Xmas Wish List' which I send to 'SoD' regularly on the 1st of December with the reminder that you can never do enough for your dear, old Dad!

The Age of Decadence: Britain 1880 to 1914 by Simon Heffer

 

 

The alternative history of Hillary Rodham Clinton

Cruising the blogosphere, as one does, I came across this despicably cruel and insulting image aimed at a lady which would, normally, arouse my gentlemanly instincts and provoke me to rush to her defence.

Then I realised it was aimed at 'HillBilly' so instead I just giggled!

 

I have no idea who Mr Roger Stone is but I assume he is no friend of 'HillBilly'.  Needless to say her ridiculous attempt at justifying her well-deserved electoral defeat by writing a book entitled "What Happened" in which, according to Grabien News, she blames "James Comey, Russia, Wikileaks, Facebook, fake news, voter ID laws, or America's "endemic" sexism and misogyny".  Also - natch! - she blames all you wretched, unappreciative, intolerable Americans for failing to appreciate her obvious political brilliance.  She has now embarked on a nation-wide tour to help sell her book which is just as well because according to reports Amazon have already slashed the price.

What can one say to comfort the poor woman in this her moment of maximum distress except possibly "What difference at this point does it make?"

 

 

 

 

'Today Europ, tomorrow zee vurld!'

So, straight from the horse's mouth, or one of its apertures, we now know for sure where the European behemoth is headed.  Mind you, you would need to have been brain dead not to have realised it years ago.  Courtesy of 'Junck the Drunk', the unelected satrap who is permitted, from time to time, to sit on the plump knees of 'Mutti' Merkel, the Empress of Europe, as she sticks her hand up the back of his jacket and pulls his strings, the way ahead is now clear.

All the ancient nation states of Europe will - no arguments, no debates, no choices - be welded into a single United States of Europe (USE).  What once were proud, independent States will become mere provinces of the new empire.  All of them, with no exceptions, will be dragooned into adopting the euro as their currency and there will be a new European Monetary Fund administered by a European Finance minister.  All the 'provinces' will be forced to become parties to the Schengen Agreement that will allow completely free movement within the boundaries of the USE. 

Plans will be made to inaugurate a new, centralised USE tax department. Similarly, national armed forces will be amalgamated into a new USE defence force which will be separate from existing NATO arrangements. Moves will be made to form a new presidency of the United States of Europe and elections to the USE parliament will cease to be based on national groupings but instead will be pan-European.

If any of that is a surprise to any of you then I can only ask where you have been for the last 40-odd years?  To some of you all of this will sound like an 'Ode to Joy'.  To me it sounds more like 'Sturm und Drang' and I can only echo the words of Nigel Farage, "Thank God we're getting out!"

 

 

This 'septic Isle' is about to turn really nasty!

A surprisingly shrewd move on the part of Mrs. May in deciding to lift the pay increase embargo on state employees beginning with the police and the prison warders.  Those two sectors are likely to be urgently required over the next year as the new Marxist Labour party and their trade union cohorts kick off an a campaign of civil unrest.  Bring it on, I say, because the sooner the country sees and feels the chaos and the violence and the extreme danger posed by these latter-day revolutionaries, the better!  With 'thickoe' hypocrites like 'Len the Donkey' McCluskey, the boss of the Unite union who earns around £150k a year paid for by his, er, impoverished members who also loaned him £400k to buy a central London flat, then gradually truth will out!  Just today this particular numpty has boasted that his stand against the cruel Tory government puts him in the same class as Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Ghandi - yeeeees, quite!

Already, The Mail has been digging into some of the other agitators, like the disgusting John McDonnell MP and, God help us (and them), deputy leader of the Labour Party.  Leo McKinstry writes:

This is a man who, in the past, has talked of ‘honouring’ IRA terrorists and of ‘garrotting’ a government minister. He once said he’d like to travel back in time and kill Margaret Thatcher — although he later apologised for the comment. More recently, he said Grenfell Tower fire victims were ‘murdered by political decisions’.

Most disturbingly, like the worst kind of totalitarian radical, he loathes the concept of democracy, preferring governance by a revolutionary cadre.

McDonnell does not hide his true feelings having already proclaimed his desire to 'honour' IRA terrorists and, according to The Mail, only four years ago he was reported as saying this:

‘Parliamentary democracy doesn’t work for us, elections aren’t working for us,’ he declared, adding that ‘we want to bring down the Government by whatever mechanism we have’. The weapons of this insurgency, he explained, could include mass demonstration and strikes ‘to bring this country to a standstill’.

Well, bring it on, I say, because there is nothing like mass insurrection and violence to demonstrate - I use that word advisedly! -  the true nature of the new Marxist Labour Party.  Of course, they will be supported by the usual village idiots but an enormous number of what Lefties sneeringly refer to as the petit bourgeois will cling to Mrs. May's skirts and the new Marxist Labour Party will face a massive defeat at the hands of that very democracy they detest and fear.

 

 

Now he truly was a god of the theatre

I refer to the late Sir Peter Hall whose death occurred yesterday.  Just reading his obit leaves you feeling exhausted, not only for the colossal range of his non-stop theatre work around the world but also for his love life which encompassed several wives and numerous children - how do these guys do it?  Obviously his first and perhaps main claim to fame was the fact that he established the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) at Stratford.  Under his guidance a stream of superlative productions ensued and a huge number of acting careers were launched along with an equally large number of playwriting talents.

He moved on from the RSC to take over from Sir Laurence Olivier in running the very new National Theatre Company as it began its move onto the South Bank.  There-after, the world was his oyster and his immense talent took him into opera productions as well as theatre.

 

    Sir Peter Hall with the cast of King Lear at the Old Vic (1997): Credit: Jeff Gilbert

I will treasure his memory for one particular reason and that was his insistence on delivering Shakespearean verse properly.  If you have sat through a Shakespeare play unmoved and bored it is probably because the actors couldn't spell the words iambic pentameter let alone understand them!  Happily for you, dear reader, I will not attempt to explain the intricacies of it now but just take it from me, or better still from Sir Peter, that treating the rhythm of the lines with thoughtful, analytical care is absolutely essential in delivering Shakespeare's verse. 

So farewell then, Sir Peter, and this exceedingly amateurish amateur salutes you.

 

At last, a long, cool, intelligent analysis of North Korea

I have been unusually reticent on the subject of what to do about North Korea for the very simple reason that I do not have a clue - but I know a man who does!  Or to be exact, I know of a man who does and his name is Nicholas Eberstadt and happily he has written a long but what seems to me to be a highly intelligent essay on the subject for the National Review.  

I will not attempt to précis his fairly long and detailed strategy which covers a multitude of activities but I do urge you all to read it.  I only wish President Trump would put down his Twitter gadget and read it himself.  Alas, I doubt that he will and, alas, I suspect that not many of his squabbling entourage will read it either.  

So my advice is don't stop digging that trench in the back garden!

 

No fool like an old fool

And I can totter forward to be the living proof but, happily, there are even older fools to provide better examples.  For example, John le Carré, the author of the superb 'Smiley' series of books which I have long admired has just mumbled some prize rubbish.  According to Mr. Charles Moore in The Telegraph, le Carré has let it be known that he is a determined 'Remoaner' and that his fictional hero, George Smiley, is equally upset by Brexit because “everything he was doing was for Europe”: “If he had a dream, it was to see a Europe unified.” 

Well, like Mr. Moore, I am unable to dispute le Carré's knowledge of the texts of his own books but I cannot remember a single indication that George Smiley was pro-European, in fact, I suspect that if one could get past his enigmatic exterior, all you would find was a powerful British patriotism.  Mr. Moore sums it up thus:

I admit I have not re-read the Smiley novels to check how often the hero refers in glowing terms to the EU, but I remember no such remarks. In the Seventies Le Carré advanced the year in which Smiley was recruited for the service to 1937 (which makes him roughly 100 years old), so he had already been in it for 20 years before the Treaty of Rome was signed.

He must have left well before the European Union (as opposed to Community) was invented in 1993. Throughout his time – as today – espionage was not an EEC matter, but a sovereign one. Our only really important intelligence ally in the European theatre was the United States of America. He spent his life “defending the flag”, says his creator. Yes, the British one, not the EU one.

I was intending to buy a copy of le Carré's latest book which, I understand, harks back to the very best one he ever wrote The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, which ended with its hero, Alec Leamus, shot dead following a double-cross by - guess who? - some bloody East German European!  I may give it a pass!

 

Your Monday Funnies: 11.9.17

Yes, yes, you can relax, I am not going to let you down this Monday as I was forced to do last week.  Also, there are some corkers this week so I will expect productivity stats to increase 'yuuuuugely'!

The first one is disgracefully misogynist but it was sent to me by Andra, so that's alright then!

 

A man was riding his Harley along a California beach when suddenly the sky cleared above his head and in a booming voice, the Lord said,
'Because you have tried to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant
you one wish..'

The biker pulled over and said, 'Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can ride over anytime I want.' 

The Lord said, 'Your request is materialistic. Think of the enormous
challenges for that kind of undertaking; the supports required
reaching the bottom of the Pacific and the concrete and steel it would
take! 

'It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is
hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a little
more time and think of something that could possibly help mankind.' 

The biker thought about it for a long time. Finally, he said, 'Lord, I
wish that I and all men could understand women.

We want to know how they feel inside?
What they are thinking when they give us the silent treatment?
Why they cry?
What they mean when they say 'nothing's wrong'?
Why they snap and complain when we try to help?
and how we can make a woman truly happy?' 

The Lord replied, 

'You want two lanes or four lanes on that bridge?'

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

The Cow, the Ant and an Old Fart.
 
A cow, an ant and an old fart are debating on who is the greatest of the three of them.
 
The cow said, "I give 20 quarts of milk every day and that's why I am the greatest!"
 
The ant said, "I work day and night, summer and winter, I can carry 52 times my own weight and that's why I am the greatest!"

 
Why are you scrolling down?  It's your turn to say something.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

 Arcelor-Mittal Steel, feeling it was time for a shakeup, hired a new
 CEO. The new boss was determined to rid the company of all slackers.
 On a tour of the facilities, the CEO noticed a guy leaning against a
 wall. The room was full of workers and he wanted to let them know that  he meant business.  He asked the guy, "How much money do you make a   week?"

A little surprised, the young man looked at him and said, "I make $400 a week ... Why?"

The CEO said, "Wait right here."He walked back to his office, came back in two minutes, and handed the guy $1,600 in cash and said, "Here's four weeks' pay. Now GET OUT and don't come back."

Feeling pretty good about himself the CEO looked around the room
and asked, "Does anyone want to tell me what that goof-ball did here?"

From across the room a voice said, "Pizza delivery guy from Domino's."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

The Pregnant Blonde.
 
The other day my neighbour, who is blonde, came running up to me in the driveway, just jumping for joy!  I didn’t know why she was jumping for joy. I thought, what the heck, and I starting jumping up and down along with her.
 
She said,”Sally,I have some really great news!" I said, "Great. Tell me
why you're so happy."
 
She stopped jumping and, breathing heavily from all the jumping up and down, told me that she was pregnant!
 
I knew that she had been trying for a while so I told her, "That's great!
I couldn't be happier for you!"
 
Then she said, "There's more." 

I asked, "What do you mean 'more'?"
 
She said, "Well, we are not having just one baby. We are going to have
twins”.
 
Amazed at how she could know so soon after getting pregnant, I asked her how she knew. She said...

“That was the easy part. I went to ALDI and they actually had a home
pregnancy kit in a twin-pack. Both tests came out positive!”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

This story proves beyond doubt that men have better friends than women do:

Friendship among Women:
 
A woman didn't come home one night. The next morning she told her
 
husband that she had slept over at a friend's house. The man called
 
his wife's 10 best friends. None of them knew anything about it.
 
 
 
Friendship among Men:
 
A man didn't come home one night. The next morning he told his
 
wife that he had slept over at a friend's house. The woman called
 
her husband's 10 best friends. Eight confirmed that he had slept
 
over, and two said he was still there.  

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

On the other hand, women are quicker thinkers:

The phone rings and a woman answers.

A pervert, breathing heavily, whispers..."I bet you have a tight arse with no hair.”

Woman replies, "Yes I do, he's watching golf. Who shall I say is calling?”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

Paddy rings his new girlfriend's door bell, with a big bunch of flowers.

She opens the door, sees the flowers, and drags him in. She lies back on the couch, pulls her skirt up, rips her knickers off and says 'This is for the flowers!'

'Don't be silly,' says Paddy, 'You must have a vase somewhere!'

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

 

An old drover walks into the barber shop in Black Stump Crossing, Northern Territory for a shave and a haircut. He tells the barber he can't get all his whiskers off because his cheeks are wrinkled from age.
 
The barber gets a little wooden ball from a cup on the shelf and tells the old drover to put it inside his cheek to spread out the skin. When he's finished, the old drover tells the barber that was the cleanest shave he'd had in years but, he asked, "Isn't it a bit dangerous? What would happen if I accidentally swallowed it? "

The barber replied, "No sweat mate, just bring it back in a couple of days like everyone else does."

There you are, a few extra ones today to make up for last Monday - God I'm good!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 10.9.17

Memories are made of this:   I took one look at this photo in The Telegraph and my mind shot backwards faster than 'Beam me up, Scotty's device!  Something like 64 years in a nano-second.

This is an old Harvard trainer and as a very young air cadet on my Summer camp at an RAF airfield, circa 1953, I was given the chance to fly in one piloted by, for some reason, a French Air Force pilot.  He asked me if I would like to try some aerobatics and with all the dim-wittedness of a 14-year old I said yes.  Crikey, or perhaps I should say, mon Dieu!!!!!

 

This fella' seems to know where-of he writes:   The Telegraph has a leaked document from "Jeremy Browne, the special representative for the City of London to the EU" which, I suspect, is more or less spot on.  In summary he says that the Brexit negotiations are a waste of time and that nothing less than the abject surrender of the British to the Berlin-Brussels apparat will be permitted.  The EU bureaucracy will pay no heed to the wishes of either European businesses who are likely to suffer in the event of a rift, or any national governments who wish to maintain some sort of relationship with Britain.  This is more or less what I predicted from the off, so the only good news is that for once my forecast was accurate!

 

I promise never to moan about the weather again!   As you all do know, by experience or by hearsay, we Brits never stop complaining about the weather.  It is always and forever either too hot, too cold, too much rain, not enough rain and so on and on.  However, watching on the TV the A1 major shit-storm that has pulverised the Caribbean, Cuba and is now setting about Florida, I think the only decent thing to do is to shut up about our weather, er, even if it did bucket down on me yesterday!

 

Peter Hitchens sums it up:   In today's Mail he runs through the totally unremarkable views of 'The Moggman', as I call the Honourable Jacob Rees-Mogg MP.  He points out that the truly remarkable thing about the furore that has erupted over 'The Moggman's opinion on things like marriage and abortion, is the furore itself:

The interesting thing is that Britain has, in so short a time, reached a stage where support for lifelong heterosexual marriage, and an aversion to killing unborn babies, are seen as eccentric, brave or outrageous opinions.  Did you notice that happening?

Well, yes, I have noticed it, actually, but there is zilch I can do about it!

 

Oh Lord, verily have I sinned:   Well, it is Sunday and I have been a very naughty boy.  I was sent up to the local shop to buy a bottle of milk and whilst there a box of Bakewell Tarts, you know, the ones with icing sugar on top and a cherry, jumped up and down and waved at me - so I bought it!  And five minutes ago I ate two of them!  What with Harvard aircraft and now Bakewell Tarts, today really is a trip down memory lane to my childhood and, boy, did I ever love Bakewell Tarts!

 

C'mon, Donald, get a grip!   I'm beginning to think that 'The Donald' should be renamed 'The Wuss'!  This woman was in charge of the Tax Department that singled out Republican and Tea Party groups for special investigation when they claimed, as they were entitled to do, tax exemption to pursue their political aims.

N0w, that festering nest of Left-wing lawyers, aka: The (non)Justice Department, have refused to charge her.  Why do I not trust the American justice system?  Let me count the ways!

 

Churchill and Orwell:  Not names that you would normally see combined but Mr. Thomas E. Ricks (no, me neither!) has just written a book featuring both men entitled:  Churchill & Orwell: The Fight for Freedom.  I am tempted to buy it and only the fact that I still have the other half of Lord Salisbury's biography looming over me is giving me pause.  Courtesy of A & L Daily, you can read a very good summary and review written for The National Interest.

 

 

No more Rumbles today

 

 

 

 

Choose your partner for the next dance

There is an article in the print edition of The Telegraph today by some international strategic swot suggesting that Europe and America are drifting, or perhaps driving, apart from each other as their perceived interests change.  Alas I cannot find it on the internet site yet but when I do I will add a link.  If it is so, and I suspect that it is, then it leaves us Brits in a delicate situation, such that we might end up as a 'Billy No Mates'!  I try to avoid too much in the way of forecasting, well, given my dismal record it's all too, too embarrassing.  In this case the sheer number of 'unknown unknowns' is enough to put anyone off from trying to work out how matters will develop.

Still, there are some 'known knowns' such as the fact after a mere few weeks of negotiations with the Europeans over Brexit, relations between us and them have become a pungent stew of mutual loathing and contempt.  In 1939 we did not hesitate to go to war to help France (and ourselves, of course!) but should Putin 'kick off on one' against the perimeter of the EU, how keen would we be to rush to their support?  Equally, as we contemplate the, er, shall we say, eccentric President of the United States as, with narrowed eyes, he strides down 'main street' towards North Korea and China with his hands hovering over his 'yuuuuge' six-guns, exactly how keen will we be to scurry along behind him?

As long as 'Mutti' Merkel rules 'over here' and 'The Donald' 'over there', relations between the EU and the USA will rarely rise above the merely polite.  The future of NATO, something of a hollow shell these days, teeters on the edge of mutual indifference by all parties - and that includes 'Vlad the Impaler', I suspect!  "The times they are a-changin'", as arguably the worst American singer - ever! - once told us.  Still, we Brits can rest assured that we have today a rare talent, er, very rare actually, in charge of our foreign policy so I am sure that all the options are being closely examined and evaluated!  Sorry, did you say something . . . ?

 

Who or what is the PM?

No, no, no, I don't mean the Prime Minister, I mean the Prime Mover!  In the comment thread down below on the subject of Freud and Darwin we reached what I think may be a record at this blog of 49 comments in which God, no God and Godel all began to feature heavily.  I have now decided to banish God - the jury's still out on Godel! - because the word comes over-loaded with pre-conceptions.  Instead, I would prefer to write about PM - not 'a' PM or 'the' PM which tends to personalise the term - but just PM, Prime Mover, which at least has the advantage of neutrality. 

It seems to me that despite the magnificent efforts of the 'swots' - religious, scientific, philosophical - none of them have come close to explaining convincingly how it all began?  I mean, when it comes to the creation of the universe, just saying there was a 'Big Bang' leaves so many unanswered, and unanswerable, questions that it is fairly useless as an explanation.  Then there is the second 'yuuuuge' question, how did hitherto inanimate materials suddenly become animate?  Yes, I have read all those theories about the huge pressures and enormous heat that seared through the depths of the earth as our planet formed but how come that today where we can produced very similar conditions in laboratories, no one has succeeded in producing that spark of animation in hitherto inanimate material?  

There is one other mystery that only occurred to me recently when I read some swot who remarked on the incredible - and it really is incredible - fact that our planet occupies one of the safest locations in the universe, despite the fact that occasionally we are peppered with bits of space detritus, and despite the fact that our sun grows ever hotter (and will eventually devour us), but even so life has begun and continues to thrive. 

It's a mystery!

 

 

'By their deeds shall you know them'

I use the contemporary version of Matthew 7-16 in my title because in the world of politics, usually far removed from the Bible, two useful illustrations of the wisdom of St. Matthew have arisen.  First, there was total and unflinching honesty of Jacob Rees-Mogg MP who made clear when questioned that he was opposed to abortion under any circumstances. and also that he was against homosexual marriage.  Now, you might agree or disagree with his opinions but you cannot gainsay his courage in saying this, as a practicing politician, in the current social mood.

Then we can turn, more or less reluctantly according to taste, to Jeremy Corbyn MP who recently attended the Catholic funeral of a Trade Union leader during which this 'born again' atheist, or possibly agnostic, actually queued with his Catholic wife to take wine and wafers as part of the Holy Communion.  Make of that what you will but either way it confirms to me that the old scoundrel is a lying-liar and a humbug.  Why am I not surprised?!

 

The 'MacCatalans' are kicking off on one!

Well, of course, my invention of 'MacCatalans' to indicate the similarity between Catalonia and the Spanish government and that between the 'Jocks' and London is hardly accurate.  Yes, there are some similarities in that the Catalans, or a goodly wedge of them, are determined to break away from Spanish rule, rather like many Jocks wanted out of the United Kingdom but there are some hefty differences, too.

For a start, 'Jockland' is broke, or it would be if it tried to survive on its own.  Catalonia, on the other hand, is immensely wealthy and it contributes some 20% of Madrid's tax revenue which is why the Spanish government is dead set against allowing any sort of breakaway.  However, the regional government of Catalonia has just announced that it will hold a referendum on independence even if that breaks Spanish law.  Madrid is promising dire consequences but, as ZeroHedge reports, "short of invasion who is going to stop the vote?"  The date for the referendum has been set for the 1st October!  Polling forecasts are mixed - why am I not surprised?  Much will depend on the reaction of the Madrid government.  What is the Spanish for 'There could be troubles ahead'?

Hopefully, my old e-pal, Ortega, is still lurking in the shadows of this blog and may be able to provide some trusty intelligence.

 

 

There are big books and then there are 'yuuuuuuge' books

As regular readers will know, I am something of an expert on big books because I have been quietly bragging on this blog as I work my way through Andrew Roberts' biography of Lord Salisbury.  I have reached about halfway but I decided to give myself a break, not just because of the huge amount of Victorian detail but because the damn thing weighs a ton!  However, having, so to speak, girded my loins, I am nearly ready to start again which is pretty good timing because in the next week or two an absolutely 'ginormous' book is going to thud into the bookshops of the world where, I suspect, most of the copies will remain!  It is called "What Happened?" and it written (allegedly!) by Hillary Rodham Clinton - yeeeeeees, quite!

Actually, 'Hillbilly', darling, I can answer that question for you - YOU LOST!  And even worse, you lost to 'The Donald', of all people!  By doing so, of course, you have deeply upset all those intellectual, influential cognoscenti who write Left-wing crap for the newspapers. Speaking with their heads rammed firmly up their own backsides, they were all unanimous in their complete faith that you would walk it - as indeed were you!  Well, like every loser there ever was there is only one phrase echoing in that empty space between your ears - someone is to blame!

According to Ms. Maureen Callahan at The New York Post, the list of those to blame is fairly long and includes:

Bernie Sanders, Joe Biden, “rash FBI director” James Comey, Obama, the Russians, sexism, and, finally, the American people for not liking her enough.

Ah, yes, "the American people", all those ghastly "irredeemables" who should be deposited in "a basket of deplorables", they are high on her list of those who are to blame.  Then there's Bernie Sanders, 'the enemy of the people' who, according to 'HillBilly' is not even a Democrat:

Sanders, she writes, had the gall to run against her even though he’s not a Democrat.

“That’s not a smear, that’s what he says,” she writes. “He didn’t get into the race to make sure a Democrat won the White House, he got in to disrupt the Democratic Party.”

The nerve of the man, to run for office in a democratic nation during a democratic election in which the will of the people is tested!  How dare he?!  Then there was that 'uppity black' in the White House:

"Obama, she says, was no help, telling her “to grit my teeth and lay off Bernie as much as I could. I felt like I was in a straitjacket.”

Oddly enough, there were moments in that election when I thought she required a straight-jacket!  Anyway, Ms. Callahan sums it up thus:

The subtext here — and the reason she was such an epically bad two-time candidate — is that we should feel sorry for her, not the other way around. It’s the problem with her campaign writ large: at a time when millions of Americans were economically hurting and afraid of being left behind, she thought “I’m With Her” was a galvanizing slogan. If anything, it should have been “She’s With Us.”

But such is her narcissism, blinding Clinton to what most Americans saw: not a campaign but the would-be coronation of someone thoroughly convinced it was her turn.

Her total inability to see 'the bleedin' obvious' continues to this day because she is, apparently, building up funds in preparation to run again in 2020.  Anyway, the book will only cost a mere $30, er, well, for the first week because thereafter it will be on the 'Remainder shelves' for a fraction of the price.

 

 

First Freud, then Darwin

A couple of posts down below I brought to your attention the murder of Sigmund Freud's reputation in a book.  Today, it is the turn of Charles Darwin who is dissected by A. N. Wilson in his book "Charles Darwin - Victorian Mythmaker".  The reviewer in The Spectator is Harry Mount.  However, he remains impeccably polite, as does A. N. Wilson in his book.  Wilson admits that like most of us he simply accepted the Darwinian theory until, that is, he began to read what later experts had to say.  It has been apparent for some time that Darwin's theory has more holes than a string vest but they have been covered up and Wilson suggests that part of the problem emanated from the religious backlash to his theory which, in turn, produced an even bigger backlash from fanatical atheists like 'Archbishop' Richard Dawkins.  Thus, the science was hidden by the religious war that was raging.

You do not have to be a science swot to see the many problems with Darwin's theory although I am second to none in my admiration of his Victorian efforts to investigate the myriad mysteries of life.  For a start, in his lifetime there was virtually no science of genetics.  He simply did the best with what he had available.  Scientific theories are just that - theories!

 

Alright, alright, I've put myself on a charge for going awol

You see, this morning I had to go back to Yeovil Hospital, not for the sake of the 'Memsahib' but for me, as in 'me, me, me'!  I was required to report to the Eye Clinic for more detailed tests than those already carried out by Specsavers.  So I had to sit around in crowded waiting rooms and then had a series of lights flashed in my eyes plus a gallon - well, it felt like a gallon! - of fluid squirted in my eyes which stung like mad and nearly brought forth a string of fine old Anglo-Saxon words - until I remembered that 'nursie' was nearby and she had the advantage of height, weight and reach!  After all of that they didn't have much to tell me except for the usual 'dread news' - please come back and see us in six weeks!  Anyway, when I reached home my eyes were somewhat tired, and so I closed them, and kept them closed until now.  Not much fun, this getting old lark, is it?

Anyway, here's a fine collection of Specsavers ads to cheer you up:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDwK_AUk0FI

 

So farewell then, Sir Richard, and thanks

I am going to let you in  on a little secret, er, you won't tell anyone, will you?  You see, one of my favourite snack meals, to be taken any time of the day or night so long as the 'Memsahib' is not in the kitchen, is a Weetabix, crumbled up by my fingers, with added grapes which, for reasons I have never quite understood, I always slice in half.  Sometimes I will throw in a few strawberries for added flavour.  Then I drown the lot in cold milk!  But, the last ingredient is the clincher - I smother the lot with dark brown Demerara sugar and I do mean 'smother'!  

Why, you may be asking yourselves, is he telling us this today - or any day come to that?!  Well, it's because I am sad to report that Sir Richard George, hitherto the boss of Weetabix, has died at the relatively young age of 71.  However, I am happy to report that he died a multi-millionaire even if some of those millions emanated from me!  Dammit, Sir, you produced a cracking good cereal and I thank you for it.

 

Not so much Freudian as fraudian!

First of all, thank you all for your good wishes directed towards the 'Memsahib'.  Alas, the fracture has not entirely mended but it is well on its way,  Even so, it means she must keep wearing the dreaded plastic boot for another fortnight, so although her ankle has improved her temper has not!

Still, I am cheered by a book review in last Saturday's Telegraph by Mr. Tim Smith-Laing.  The book concerned is a well-deserved hatchet job aimed at the ludicrous reputation of that grotesque fraud, Sigmund Freud.  Entitled 'Freud: the Making of an Illusion' by Frederick Crews.  Regular readers will remember my frequent use of the word 'psycho-babble' so you will understand my instant support for this book which, apparently, rips poor, old 'Siggie' to shreds.

It is, of course, deeply, er, Freudian that Mr. Crews was for several years a devoted student and follower of the old 'wizard' but to his credit, eventually, his intelligence began to discern the flaws in this pyramid of incredibility.

Happily, the reviewer of the book, Mr. Smith-Laing, cannot resist three cracking jokes about 'Siggie' and his preposterous theories:

There is probably no better yardstick of someone’s fame than the number of jokes you can tell about them and expect people to get; and I can think of three different punchlines to “How many Freudians does it take to screw in a light bulb?” (“Why are you so fixated on screwing?”; “Only one if he has a stool – though I don’t know how being anal-retentive helps”; “Two: one to screw in the bulb, one to hold his penis… I mean, father… I mean, ladder!”)

In essence, this book accuses Freud of being a charlatan driven to excess in his drive for fame.  To be fair, my 'knowledge' of his theories is scant, not least because even a short summary of them makes me snort with derision.  However, it is enough for me that one of my intellectual 'heroes', the late, great Karl Popper pointed out with deadly accuracy:

Freudian theories [...] were always scientifically suspect because there was “no conceivable human behaviour which could contradict them”. They could not be disproved, and so could not be confirmed either.

When one considers the malignant harm inflicted on some of his patients, I can't help wondering if we should dig the old fraud up and drive a stake through what passes for his heart!

 

 

A delay to the Monday Funnies

Alas, not too much time this morning because the 'Memsahib' must be delivered to the Fracture Unit at Yeovil Hospital for a check up on her ankle.  The supporters of Milborne Port Rovers, er, two men, a boy and his dog, will be hoping and praying that she can pull on the No.9 shirt next Saturday!

By the way, having slept on it I have decided to rid myself of that 'pestilential priest' - you know who I mean! - because he is incapable of being anything other than unpleasant - and who needs it?  Not me, nor you, I guess!

The Sunday Rumble: 3.9.17

"The day war broke out":   As I typed the date 3rd of September up above I thought, that rings a bell!  Anyway, just as a reminder to old Brits of a certain vintage here's a little memory of the gentle humour that kept us going through grim times:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VpXkfNKr1b4

 

The best 'pud' in the world:  I pose the question because last night I had a pot of tiramisu which I think qualifies because if you have just ploughed through a stonking great dinner, tiramisu just slides down sweet and easy and the little hint of liquor adds that certain something.  Up until recently, when this damned old-age thing crept up on me, then I would have voted for the British equivalent - trifle.  The problem these days is that I can no longer manage half the bowl which hitherto I had always, since the age of 5, considered my due.  So tiramisu which tends to come in small pots is exactly right.  Mind you, there's always treacle pudding to be considered and, of course, Spotted Dick smothered in custard and I dare not forget the 'Memsahib's home-made apple crumble  - oh God, I must stop this, I'm beginning to dribble!

 

Jolly good show, (Sir) Lewis:   Yesterday that pukka British gent, (Sir) Lewis Hamilton - yes, yes, I know his sartorial taste is not exactly Saville Row, and his hair style makes him look a bit like a Kalahari tribesman and his favourite music is atrocious - but, dammit, he is poised to be the greatest racing driver of all time.  Yesterday he went above Schumacher's record for the number of pole positions and today I remain confident that he will sweep to victory at the magnificent Monza circuit.  Er, go, Lewis, go!

 

Prepare for the worst:   That is, if you are a reasonably sensible Labour Party member and such beings do exist!  According to Mr. Dan Hodges in The Mail, and I think he knows where-of he writes, the lunatic 'Corbynistas' are now determined to unleash unrestricted warfare on the moderate wing of the Party.  They have already 'eliminated' the leader of the Scottish Labour Party and the English Party is next in line.  In Mr. Hodge's words:

Hate, division, conflict. These are not by-products of Corbynism. They are the life-blood of Corbynism. They are what allows it to function.

Time to fight or split, Comrades, the mouth-foaming, Jew-hating Trots are coming for you!

 

Snort-splutter-snigger-howl with laughter:   That James Delingpole is a very naughty boy!  In Breitbart, he reports on yet another 'Ship of Fools' in which sundry dim, dumb, Greenie-wallies set sail for the North Pole to demonstrate the 'truth' of global warming which, in a way, they did because 590 nautical miles short of their target they had to turn back because of ... wait for it! ... ice!  File under: WHODATHUNKIT?  Hat tip to IHTM.

 

And talking of old jokes:   As I was in my first post up above, here's a golden oldie which, being typical of its time, isn't exactly a side-splitter today.  However, I repeat it, courtesy of The Telegraph, because it gives me an excuse to print a picture of Jane Russell:

 Jane Russell in The Outlaw (1943) Credit: Alamy 

She, silly girl, was one of the first not to reply to one of my fan letters although, to be fair, I was only 4 years old then!  Anyway, apparently this joke had them rolling in the aisles 'back in the day':

The joke itself was originally used in a longer sketch called Captain Noseblower, set on a pirate ship.

In it the crew are discussing how to kill time and one suggests they play a game of Jane Russell Pontoon.

His shipmate asks: “Is that the same as ordinary pontoon?”

To which the first replies: “It is, but you need 38 to bust.”

Well, talk about laugh, I nearly did!

 

20 snouts in the trough and there's still 3 years to go:   Much about America puzzles me.  Today the NYT is reporting that there are around 20 Democrat pols already up and running for the Presidency as they suck up to the rich moneybags whose wealth will be required to run a campaign.  Silly me, I always thought that rich business men were shrewd, so how many of them are dumb enough to pour their money into the hands of greasy politicians - particularly following 'Hillbilly's abject failure?

 

Sorry, another boring-snoring race:   But at least (Sir) Lewis won it!  Mind you, I was relying on that Aussie, Ricciardo, to take that damned Hun off but he let me down.  Still, Hamilton is in the lead for the championship for the first time this year - jolly good show!

 

WARNING TO ALL COMMENTERS: 

For the second time in a few days I have been forced to 'snip' certain phrases from comments left here.  On both occasions it was from the same source but please be aware that whilst a certain amount of bad language or rude imagery is allowable on a grown-up blog written for grown-ups - there are limits.  If it continues then instead of snipping the phrases concerned I will just wipe out the complete comment.  You have been warned - be fierce but keep it fairly decent!

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

John Singer Sargent 1856-1925

Cruising through the internet this morning - as you do!  - I came across a mention of John Singer Sargent, a painter I have long admired and, being of a generous disposition, I thought I would share some of his creations with you - no, no, thanks are not required just the usual 'readies' in a plain brown envelope!

Of course, I must start with one of his most famous, what I call 'the lady in black', with I suspect in my fevered imagination, matching underwear!

The painting was entitled "Madame X" but the lady was Madame Pierre Gautreau.  In my view, she is not a great beauty but, dammit, she's hot!

This one is called "Group with Parasols (or A Siesta)", although I would be tempted to rename it as "Pheeeeew, what a party!"

Now here's as fine a collection of total tosspots as you could ever wish to avoid:

"General Officers of World War I".  What did we ever do to deserve that lot?!  Is JSS being a tad satirical?  Surely not!

Now this one, "Gassed", is anything but satirical.  I have seen the original in the Imperial War Museum and I stood before it in silence, and nearly in tears, for ages:

Alas, I have had to shrink the size in order to fit it to the screen but if you can, look it up on the net and examine the detail.  In my humble and not very expert opinion, a truly great painting.

Now this next one is gorgeous but also technically brilliant:

How he managed all those contrasting perspectives, including the curved arches, is extraordinary.  If you think it's easy, just try and draw buildings in perspective and see how you get on!

I will finish with this very simple (well, relatively simple!) picture because I have a print of it hanging on my wall.

So simple(!) and yet the composition, with the passageway disappearing into the distance and the time spent recreating the patina on the walls is superb.  I love that picture - not his greatest - but it fascinates me.  What are those two ladies gossiping about!

 

https://www.johnsingersargent.org/the-complete-works.html?pageno=13

 

 

For those with 27 stars in their eyes!

As we have witnessed, over and over and over again, on this, er, distinguished blog, there are those amongst us who can only be described as 'True Believers'.  Metaphorically, they hold hands and chant the latest agit-prop pronouncements from Berlin-Brussels as though they were scrolls handed down from heaven.  Sorry, children, but here's a nice big bucket of ice-cold water to pour over yourselves supplied a man who knows, at first hand, where-of he speaks - Taki Theodoracopulos.

As you will have guessed, Taki is Greek to his finger tips although, as an exceedingly wealthy man, he is better defined as an 'internationalist'.  Even so, he is a man who loves his own country and in a splenetic rant on his own magazine site he coruscates the Grand Panjandrums of the dictatorial EU.  To be fair, he accepts that the Greek leadership at the time of their entry into the 'Gulag' made a huge error but since then the EU 'Gauleiters' have flayed the Greek people down to the bone:

Like Germany following World War I, Greece has been choked by its obligations to foreign creditors. The archvillains are the megacrooks of the E.U. Children go hungry so that banks can tell their investors they’ve refused to take a haircut. The situation is similar to that of a fighter who is a middleweight, is put on a strict, starvation-like diet, and is expected to grow and fight as a heavyweight. Mind you, the Greeks themselves were the ones who started it. Once Greece joined the dictatorship that the fourth estate dares not call by its real name, the E.U., in 1980, credit became the cocaine of both left- and right-wing governments. The more the E.U. lent, the more successive Greek governments wanted and received from the dealer, Brussels, that knew from day one what was going on and, like all good drug dealers, let the addict sniff to its heart’s content.

[Snip]

Seven years of severe austerity with 60% unemployment of the young and 25% general unemployment have accomplished absolutely nothing. The country runs on its black economy. People have simply stopped working in order not to have to pay taxes they cannot afford to pay. When the austerity began in 2010, the debt was 130% of the GDP. Now it stands at 180%. [My emphasis] The crooks in Brussels call it progress. Talk about Orwellian newspeak.

There may be some excuse for the fat heads and dreamers who decades ago urged us all to join this gang of Mafiosi, but today, with Greece bleeding to death before our eyes, who can repeat the ode to joy they used to sing?