DUFF & NONSENSE!

The Sunday Rumble: 30.9.18

Never mind the Mocking Bird, let's all kill Kavanaugh:   I am grateful to Ms. Ellen Anthony at the American Thinker who reminds me of the famous story of "To Kill a Mockingbird" and thus prompting me to this thought.  She reminds me that the, er, 'heroine' of the story is 'Miss Mayella Ewell' who is a lying-liar of the first order when she makes up the story of an innocent man sexually molesting her.  Am I right in thinking that she is now the spiritual head of the #METOO movement?  Jes' askin'!

 

'Fauxcahontas' announces her run for the Presidency:  Er, well, sort of, you know, like, maybe but then again, maybe not!  Personally, I hope she does because American politics is desperately in need of some laughs and they don't come much more comical than 'Big Chiefette Fauxcahontas' who is, of course, 'a heap big squaw'!

 

Germany in the Scheisse:   See, it's not all bad news!  Apparently Germany has failed to meet EU climate targets which makes them sehr ungezogene Jungs (very naughty boys - do brush up on your languages!)  Apparently that will cost them 2 billion euros to which one can only reply, oh je, wie schade, vergiss es which translates, of course, as 'oh dear, what a pity, never mind!'

 

I'll pass on the cake, Mrs. West, if that's OK:   According to The Mail, Mrs. Rose West, currently serving life in F-wing at HMP Low Newton is proving to be something of a cake-making wizard and has won the prison 'bake off' competition.  She and her late husband, Fred, raped and murdered their own daughter and then went on to kill another nine girls.  At least Fred had the good manners to kill himself and thus save us tax-payers some money but she lives on.

 

"Pack of Lies" by Hugh Whitemore:  As I mentioned before, during my London excursion I went to see "Pack of Lies" by the late Hugh Whitemore.  A little diamond of a play which was once lucky enough to have me playing one of the roles - and I heard that!  It re-tells the real story of the 1960s operation in suburban London which led to the arrest of Helen and Peter Kroger who were deep-cover agents for the Soviet Union.  The title of the play sums it up because virtually everyone in it is practicing deceit of one kind or another.  It is running until November so if you have an idle evening in town it is worth seeing.  Interestingly, the lady playing the lead, Ms. Finty Williams, is the daughter of Dame Judi Dench who played the role when the play first opened in the early '80s!  Ms. Williams is excellent, and so is Ms. Macy Nyman who plays the teen-age daughter of the central characters - a talent to watch out for!

 

Car/train/plane crash ahead!   The Conservative party conference is opening and "there will be blood"!  Mind you, that will be nothing in comparison to the oceans of blood likely to be spilled as the move to Brexit reaches the terminal - or should that be 'terminator'?

 

Sorry, America, but we won - BIGTIME!   As I have mentioned before, my one and only attempt to play what I call 'Hockey at the Halt' ended at the 7th hole, well, actually, well short of the hole!  Even so, I have considerable admiration for those who have (sort of) mastered it because it is damned tricky.  So it is with some pleasure that I learn we have won, and by a stonking margin, the Ryder Cup.  Jolly good show, chaps!

 

The young 'thruster', er, thrusts!   Mr. Gavin Williamson MP, 181/2, who is our new, dashing Minister of Defence is sending 800 British troops into the arctic, er, well, northern Norway, actually!  It is designed, apparently, to send a warning to 'Vlad the Impaler' - bet he's shaking in his boots!  Actually, the first field exercise I ever did in the army was in the Norwegian arctic circle and I thought I was going to freeze to death - until, in the morning, I saw dozens of Norwegian 'kiddie-winkies' skipping along to school in shorts!

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

 

One by one by one . . .

. . . the lights are going out on that "shining city on the hill"!  Of course, 'back in the day' our American friends were quite capable of stringing a man up for supposed wrong-doing, particularly if he was black, but gradually the forces of law and order exerted their strength and influence and more or less put a stop to it.  Even so, as the old saying has it, 'there's more than one way to skin a cat' and in this modern age you can flay a man alive simply by applying ferocious multi-publicity to the target, irrespective of whether he is guilty or innocent, and equally irrespective of even a scintilla of proof to confirm the action where-of he stands accused.  The modus operandi is devilishly easy, if it was possible for him to have done something evil, then he did something evil!  Just keep repeating and repeating and repeating that accusation whilst applying more and more and yet more channels of mass communication because in the end the 'People' will confirm their inherent stupidity and join in the chanting.

Thus it is with Judge Kavanaugh who has had his reputation eviscerated by the means described above.  Nobody has actually hung him - yet! - but they might as well have done despite the fact that no-one has provided even a speck of evidence.  It is, quite simply, mob rule and what makes me very nervous is that, whilst you might expect that sort of thing in religious dictatorships like, say, Iran, you definitely do not expect it at the very heart of the central defender of democracy and the rule of law which is America.  If, as now looks very likely, America is descending to the depths of illegal depravity - and all in the name of the law! - then the rest of us need to consider a world in which the USA is no longer providing the example and strength of a civilised nation but is now no better than the worst manic and dangerous countries who persistently threaten our future.

If you think I exaggerate, let me leave you with a single question: after this, would you ever trust an American Democratic party politician to stand up and defend the fundamental laws of justice?

 

 

Relax, already, I'm back!

Didja miss me, didja, didja?  Well of course you did but fear no more because shortly you will receive the usual stream of - don't say it! - high-minded, judicious commentary to guide you through this mad, mad, mad, mad, mad world of ours.  'Catching up' things to do but I will be back later on.

 

The Corbyn cornucopia

Well, at least 'Jezza's' programme for his future government is as clear as crystal, no 'ifs', 'buts' or 'maybes', it can be summarised in a single phrase:

'Whatever you want we will give it to you,

no matter what it costs'!

 

There you are, couldn't be clearer, could it?  In the unlikely, nay, impossible, chance you don't quite grasp it, then 'Jezza' has two assistants on his Left - and boy do I ever mean LEFT! - to make things crystal clear because they are both steeped in Marxist/Leninist/Stalinist philosophy, er, well, if you can call ramming communism down peoples' throats and murdering anyone who complains a philosophy!

The first is Comrade Seamus Milne who is, of course, a privately-educated (Winchester), son of a toff who has breezed through life at the top with nary a care in the world and has never done a real job in his life because editing sundry Left-wing rags does not qualify you for anything.  The second is Andrew Murray, yet another privately educated, son of a stockbroker/banker ' who is a 'red in tooth and claw' Marxist who only left the Communist Party of Britain and joined the Labour party in 2016.  These are the two men 'Jezza' has sitting to his left because - natch! - he does not want anyone sitting to his right!

I will leave it to you, dear reader, to use the links to their Wiki entries and thus better judge the men likely to have extreme influence over 'Jezza' in the truly ghastly, and frightening, possibility that the people of this country go mad and vote him into power.

 

HOUSE NOTICE:  Tomorrow morning I am off to London for an over-night stay and I will be back Friday evening.  And, yes, I am taking the 'Memsahib' with me because you cannot believe she would let me loose in London all on my own!

 

 

He's a very silly Sikh - and a naughty one, too!

I refer to Guardsman Charanpreet Singh Lall of the Coldstream Guards who made a name for himself at the Trooping the Colour this year by being the first guardsman to parade wearing a Sikh turban.  Good for him, I thought, and good for the Guards, too,  because Sikhs have an exceedingly warlike reputation.

Alas, he was caught out in a surprise drug test which the army spring on the 'Toms' from time to time.  Apparently he had been indulging in cocaine.  Of course, his RSM (Regimental Sergeant Major) will no doubt have a few words to say, er, well, not 'say' exactly, more like bellow into his ear from very close quarters.  My advice to Guardsman Lall is to keep his turban on to protect his ears!  Mind you, what the RSM has to say will, I suspect, pale in significance to what his Mum, Dad and sister have to say when he gets home - especially Mum who looks like a lady one would not wish to cross!

It's all a great pity because he looks like a very smart soldier so I hope the Army give him a second chance because, of course, getting into trouble, in way or another, is what 'Toms' do so awfully well!

 

Personally, I blame that William Caxton!

Everyone and his uncle, particularly if the 'uncle' is a grumpy, old codger like me, blames that damned 'internet-thingie' for producing a cacophony of information that swamps what passes for our minds and leaves us no room to think.  However, reading my 'livre du jour', The Story of Britain, I am reminded of a much earlier 'perp' who helped kick off this tidal wave of information - Master William Caxton.

He was the 15th century rascal who went off to Bruges and learned about those new-fangled printing-press-thingies.  His Dad should have given him a smack and told him never to go abroad because you only ever pick up bad habits!  Anyway, he went and was so enthralled with these printing devices, he brought one back and set up shop.  It has been downhill ever since as a never-ending deluge of 'information' has poured all over the globe.

No doubt some swot somewhere has analysed how this changed the world irrevocably, occasionally for good but often for bad!  Today we are going through much the same process via this internet-thingie' which seems to have addled what passes for our brains although, thinking about it, perhaps our brains have always been addled and all the printing presses and internet have done is to display the depressing fact for all to see.

 

History, heh!

The problem with history is that it's just like the present, absolutely stuffed full of those damned "unknown unknowns'!  However, to be fair, at least today we can discern - just about! - where and how they gradually became 'known knowns'!  Yes, as you will have guessed, I am still diligently working my way through "The Story of Britain" by Sir Roy Strong.  I have now reached what I suspect is the fulcrum of the story - Henry VIII.

He, of course, was far more than just the "very naughty boy" we were all taught about at 'skool' because he was, in fact, a monstrous, murderous maniac, although to be fair, so were most of his predecessors!  However, such was the monumental nature of his - dare I say? - revolutionary actions that the entire history of Britain shifted to a new axis.  Much of what he wrought was in fact the work of what might be called Britain's first 'Head of the Civil Service', a certain Master Thomas Cromwell.  (So no change there then!)  I mention all this because a new, and apparently definitive, biography of the man has just been issued:  "Thomas Cromwell: A Life" written by Diarmaid McCullach.

‘The likeness that has shaped the tormented afterlife’: Hans Holbein the Younger’s 1532-33 portrait of Thomas Cromwell (detail). Photograph: Fine Art/Corbis via Getty Images

I am pleased to say that Ms. Hilary Mantel, whose very fictional novel of the man captured the public imagination, has written in praise of McCullach's ultra-realistic book despite it being a very different portrait.  Anyway, dammit, that's yet another book I just must have!

 

 

'Micro' Macron shrinks even smaller

Well, as our troubles grow and proliferate there is some comfort to be had from looking over the Channel and watching 'Micro' Macron slowly but surely shrinking even further.

As The Spectator illustrated so wittily', 'L' Empereur' has fewer and fewer clothes to hide his titchy body because, according to Zero Hedge, his 'approval rating' in less than 18 months has sunk to 29% which is even lower than Sarkozy's was at the same time.  He might draw some slight, very slight, comfort from the fact Hollande's rating was even lower at 23%.

Apparently he has not just adopted an 'open door' policy to immigrants but is intent on offering the services of a doorman to assist them!  Also, he is determined to take on the French unions and break their strangle-hold, to which one can only mutter 'bonne chance avec celui-là'!  That means 'good luck with that one!' and you deserve a smack because your Mum and Dad told you to pay attention in French lessons!

I do not wish the French ill - no really, honestly, I don't - but if they will keep electing jumped up little pip-squeaks like the Hungarian dwarf or 'Hollande the Humper' or 'Micro-Macron' then I'm afraid they deserve the outcome.

ADDITION:   No sooner written than over-taken - typique!  I refer to an article in The Spectator written by the ever-excellent Jonathan Miller who I believe lives in France.  He asks why 'Micro' Macron is taking such a hard, almost fanatical, line against British Brexit given that France exports far more to Britain than we do to them.  Indeed, some French industries will be severely damaged if we walk away with no deal:

Whether it is Électricité de France, up to its neck in the British power industry, including Hinkley Point B, or SNCF with its control of Eurostar, or PSA Peugeot Citroen, with its UK assembly lines, and a brilliant English woman at the head of the Citroën division, or Airbus, which depends on the UK for its wings and many engines. This is only the start of a very long list. The British have much to offer France in inward investment and defence cooperation, not least in the Sahel. Why this petty connerie, then, from Macron? Curiously, given that the French export more to the UK than the UK to France, and there has been a vast exchange of population, to mutual benefit, all these deep and constructive relationships seem less important to Macron than protecting the ideological purity of the EU by flagellation of those seeking an exit from this nirvana. Or maybe there is more to it.

Click on the link and read his suggested answers.

 

Your Monday Funnies: 24.9.18

Here we go, bright and early - for a change!

A Jewish grandmother is giving directions to her grown grandson who is coming to visit with his wife.

"You come to the front door of the apartment. I am in apartment 301. There is a big panel at the front door. With your elbow, push button 301. I will buzz you in. Come inside, the elevator is on the right. Get in, and with your elbow, push 3. When you get out, I'm on the left. With your elbow, hit my doorbell."

"Grandma, that sounds easy, but, why am I hitting all these buttons with my elbow?"

"What . . . you coming empty handed?" 

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An attractive Irish blonde arrived at the casino.  She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty thousand dollars in a single roll of the dice.

She said, "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude."

With that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and with an Irish brogue yelled, "Come on baby, Mama needs new clothes!"

As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed.
"Yes! Yes! I won, I won!" She hugged each of the dealers,
picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed.

The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded.
Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?"
The other answered, "I don't know - I thought you were watching."

MORAL OF THE STORY

Not all Irish are drunks, not all blondes are dumb.....
but all men...are men!

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Global Facts About Sex At any given moment:

FACT: 79,000 people are having sex - right now.

FACT: 58,000 are kissing.

FACT: 37,000 are relaxing after having sex.

FACT: 1 old person is reading emails.

You hang in there sunshine!

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"How many women can a man marry?"

"Sixteen," the boy responded.

His cousin was amazed that he had an answer so quickly.

"How do you know that?"

"Easy," the little boy said.

"All you have to do is add it up, like the pastor said, 4 better, 4 worse, 4 richer, 4 poorer."

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A big Texan stopped at a local restaurant following a day roaming around in Mexico

While sipping his tequila, he noticed a sizzling, scrumptious looking
platter being served at the next table. Not only did it look good, the
smell was wonderful.

He asked the waiter, 'What is that you just served?'

The waiter replied, 'Ah senor, you have excellent taste! Those are called Cojones de Toro, bull's testicles from the bull fight this morning. A delicacy!'

The cowboy said, 'What the heck, bring me an order.'

The waiter replied, 'I am so sorry senor. There is only one serving per day because there is only one bull fight each morning. If you come early and place your order, we will be sure to save you this delicacy.'

The next morning, the cowboy returned, placed his order, and that evening was served the one and only special delicacy of the day. After a few bites, inspecting his platter, he called to the waiter and said, 'These are delicious, but they are much, much smaller than the ones I saw you serve yesterday.'

The waiter shrugged his shoulders and replied, 'Si, Senor, sometimes the bull wins.'

That's your lot, stop laughing and get back to work!

 

The Sunday Rumble: 23.9.18

We have friends/ex-neighbours arriving for coffee in half an hour and then we are out to lunch so there may be a pause, or three, but fear not - "I shall return".

 

Poor old 'Rupe':  He put in a 'yuuuuuuuuuuge' bid for the Sky TV network but some other rascal bid higher.  What can one say, except 'ohdearwhatapitynevermind'!  Mind you, I am a bit worried because I default to following Sky News because of my deep loathing of the BBC.  Not that Sky News doesn't have its faults but A.B.T.T.B.B.C. - anything's better than the BBC!

 

We shall see what we shall see!   'St. Theresa', as befits a vicar's daughter, has promised to continue total protection for EU ex-pats living in Britain.  Now we must wait and see how the EU 'apparatchiks' treat British ex-pats living 'just over there'.  I wouldn't bet the deeds of my house on the outcome!

 

They do things differently 'over there':   As this cartoon from The American Thinker makes clear:

The stench is becoming unbearable:   I refer, of course, to this disgusting, malignant and dangerous stunt unleashed by the (non)Democratic party against Judge Kavanaugh.  I'm not a 'kiddie-winkie' so I know that politics can be a dirty business but this farrago has plumbed new depths.  Yes, the Republicans delayed Obama's choice for the SCOTUS so that he ran out of time but they did so using nit-picking procedural ploys all of which were in the rule book.  What they did not do is take a filthy accusation against a man without a shred of evidence, sit on it for weeks and then suddenly release it just before his confirmation hearing.  Yes, they might well stop him in his tracks but they will also utterly destroy an honourable man's reputation forever.  If any American is prepared to vote for the Dems in November they need to wear rubber gloves!

 

No more rumbles today

 

In which I go all 'arty-farty' - again!

Although, to be fair, I haven't indulged in 'arty-farty' for quite a while. I blame the National Review for printing an article on the man I consider, based on minimal knowledge (so no change there then!), to be the greatest painter of all time - Rembrandt van Rijn (1606-69).  About 25 years ago I went to an exhibition of some of his works in London and as I went through the galleries I admired them but then I moved into part of the exhibition concentrating on his pictures of old men.  At that point, I was transfixed.

 

Just look at that face.  It has surely seen 'the best of times and the worst of times'.  And look at those hands which display the patina of time.

And then there is this one:

The old Sinatra classic sums this up better than anything:

And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I'll say it clear

I'll state my case, of which I'm certain

I've lived a life that's full

I traveled each and every highway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way.

 

And then there is the artist himself, unafraid to reproduce his own likeness:

To me, these are haunting pictures, once seen, never forgotten.

 

 

Oh God, yet more books!

I'm getting to the age where I am wondering if I'll live long enough to read them all!  I am still progressing gradually through 'The Story of Britain' by Sir Roy Strong, superb book but there's awful lot of it!  Waiting for me in my super-duper Kindle, the greatest invention since sliced bread, is the 'LA Quartet' by James Ellroy who is, I suspect 'a very naughty boy'!  But this week the bloody Spectator - which I urge you to subscribe to - has a couple of book reviews which I am quite unable to resist.  All I wonder is whether or not my titchy, skinny, little Kindle will be able to squeeze them in?

The first is a 'must have' - and if SoD is reading this he should buy a copy quick!  It is called "Our Boys: The Story of a Paratrooper" by a lady, Ms. Helen Parr, who is the niece of the late Dave Parr, a 19-year old private in 2 Para who was killed in the Falklands in 1982 by incoming artillery fire.  I gather that the book is part biography of Pte. Parr but also part history of the Parachute Regiment and it's development, including the 'naughty bits'! There is one particularly galling fact that Pte. Parr's eventual funeral in England, attended by many of his comrades who knew the secret that he had been killed by 'friendly fire' but the family did not!

Then, I'm afraid, it's 'more war' in the form of the latest book by one of the very best modern historians, Max Hastings.  It is on the subject of arguably the most devastating war since the end of WWII - "Vietnam: An Epic Tragedy".  Well, any war is a tragedy but it is amazing how the Vietnam war, which absolutely dominated the world when it was raging, has sort of sunk into oblivion.  Possibly, or probably, because no-one came out of it with much credit!  Anyway, I don't know that much about it so I will have to buy it.  You can read Saul David's review at The Spectator.

 

 

Going, going, gone!

I refer, sadly, to the imminent demise of the once wonderful sport of athletics.  I was raised on the achievements of the likes of the late Sir Roger Bannister, the first man to break the four minute mile barrier in 1954, with a little help from his pace-maker friends, Chris Chataway and Chris Brasher.  A marvellous achievement, superb athletes and a truly great sport.

Then but not now!

Today, alas, the entire sport is smeared with, mainly but not exclusively, Russian dope cheating.  It is a sign of how arrogant and stupid the Russian authorities were that such was the scale and carelessness of their cheating that they were easily found out and, mirabile dictu, they were chucked out of the sport.  Perhaps, I thought, I hoped, the game is now clean and maybe some truly great events will take place.

Fat chance!

Today, after counting all those roubles in their bank accounts, the directors (bar two) of the laughingly titled 'World Anti-Doping Agency', WADA, invited Russia back into the sport even though they have failed to comply with at least two of the former requirements.  Now one 'yuuuuuuge' question remains, if you are a scrupulously clean athlete, will you continue to be so when it becomes blindingly obvious the Russians are cheating again?

Sir Craig Reedie, chairman of the board, should have his knighthood revoked.

 

This is your last chance, Prime Minister

In your terribly, polite, British way, Prime Minister, you attempted to offer those European 'suits' a reasonable compromise to help facilitate a congenial means of separating. Their response was to keep very 'schtum' and welcome you into their grand get-together in an Austrian palace where, once dinner was over, they then proceeded very publicly to pelt you with bread rolls in order to maximise your wretched, humiliating and very public embarrassment as they pissed all over you and your proposals.  It's over, Prime Minister!  Finished!  As your recently beloved but now very ex-lady friend from Germany might say, you and your silly compromises are kaput!

But in defeat there are often the seeds of eventual victory.  Now is your chance.  First of all sack that wretched nincompoop, 'Oily' Robbins, and his Civil Service gang of stupid EU loving twerps.  Your party conference is imminent, so now is the chance - the last chance! - for you to show some of the metal once displayed by 'Maggie' Thatcher.  Wrap yourself in the flag and lead this country out of that stinking, corrupt, anti-British "mess of pottage" that is the European Union.  No more 'ifs and buts', no more 'softly, softly', no more 'Mrs. Nicely-Nicely', just lead the country back to independence and freedom.

Do that, and you chances of remaining Prime Minister will instantly improve, and so will the chances of your party at the next election.

 

 

Things could become exceedingly hot for 'the Warmers'

I think the opening paragraph of the report featured in Watts Up With That says it all.  If Michael Mann and his cohorts thought the world is warming, it's about to become boiling hot for them!

Nearly seven years ago, on December 7th, 2011, the Free Market Environmental Law Clinic’s (FME Law) sought public records from the University of Arizona related to the Mann-Bradley-Hughes temperature reconstruction that looks like a hockey stick, and development of an Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report. They refused much of the request and FME Law sued. Now (on September 18th, 2018) legal counsel for the University informed FME Law that they were done, that they would be withdrawing their appeal of the trial court’s decision, end the case and disclose the records.

At last, after seven years of holding out in the bunker which contains all the correspondence between Michael Mann and his key 'lieutenants' in the great 'hockey stick' schtik they have inflicted on us, all will now be revealed.  It should make the East Anglia University brouhaha look like a mere ripple in comparison.

It is quite extraordinary that these so-called 'scientists' have spent 'zillions' fighting like mad to protect their papers.  What on earth have they got to hide?  I don't know, but I can't wait to find out! 

 

I told you so!

I cannot remember how many times I forecast that in the Brexit (non) negotiations, the Europeans would not give us their nose pickings!  Today, following their outright refusal to accept any of Mrs. May's soppy-soft, Chequers proposal in which she strove to find some sort of middle ground, it is now absolutely clear that we are out and out with no deal.  For reasons 'that woman' (see previous post) understood all too well, the entire notion of a 'United States of Europe' has seized the imaginations of the 'apparatchiks' who, with their 'yuuuuge' pay, pensions and perks, are fanatical in their desire to keep the edifice in being.  That is why, over the years, they have forced country after country to re-run their referenda until 'the peasants' vote the right way.  They are now hell bent on doing the same to us.  I think, I hope, I pray that we will remain as staunch in our determination to take back our independence as we did in 1940.

 

And in a flash, I hurtled back 30 years

I am deeply grateful to the CAPX site, in general, and Herr (I assume he is a 'Herr) Kai Weiss of the Austrian Economics Centre and the Hayek Institute, in particular, for his excellent essay on this - the 30th anniversary of 'that woman's' speech in Bruges.  Given all the mostly useless prats (and 'pratettes') who have run our country since her time, what bliss it was to be reminded of her ferocious intelligence.  Looking back, as Herr Weiss suggests, that speech was the beginning of the end of Britain's membership of the EU.  

Bruges was a stark warning for Brussels. The Prime Minister had increasingly seen “an inclination towards bureaucratic rather than market solutions to economic problems” and an “overt federalist and protectionist agenda” at the European level. If this were to continue, Thatcher argued, the European project, which had brought many benefits over the years, could fail. In this sense, it was not an argument against the EU. It was an argument to save the EU.

Needless to say, the fanatical 'stoopids' in Brussels ignored her message and here we are today on the brink of exiting - and in my opinion, we will not be the last!

Instead of trying to create a European identity or forging ahead with a federalist European state, regardless of what the populace thinks about it, the EU should promote “willing and active cooperation between independent sovereign states”. To this day, the federalists do not seem to have taken this idea on board.

The most depressing thing about all this is that even if the European apparatchiks get their way and manage to hold the thing together, it will be a union that no-one, except them, will want to live in - and there-in lies even more trouble! 

Tonight I will raise a glass to the memory of that truly remarkable woman.

 

 

So farewell then, Dennis Norden, and thanks for the laughs R.I.P.

I feel a bit like an old king whose favourite jester has died! Reading Dennis Norden's obit in The Telegraph today was a very sad surprise because, to be honest, if you had asked me I would have assumed that he had died years ago!  It made me realise that he, and his former excellent and witty partner, Frank Muir, have been making me laugh for nearly 70 years.  I can still, just about, remember listening to "Take It From Here" when I was a nipper.

Norden (left) and Frank Muir in 1950 writing a script for the radio show Take It from Here Credit: Popperfoto

It is, I think, just a magical skill to be able to produce an almost endless series of jokes and witticisms and those two were amongst the very best.  Here is just one example:

For example, asked to explain the origin of “A nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse”, Norden spun an elaborate and laborious yarn about training to use different forms of signalling in the RAF, which finally ended “A prod is as good as a wink to a shined Morse”. This and other examples were later published in Norden and Muir’s book You Can’t Have Your Kayak and Heat It (1973).

Now seems an appropriate time to quote another of his gags:

“When I’m gone?” he once mused. “Well, I’d like to be cremated and used as Dolly Parton’s talcum powder.”

Farewell, Maestro, and thank you.

 

Which will go bust first, Italy or China?

Well, of course, I pose the question but as per usual I haven't a clue as to the answer.  I have been forecasting (oh alright then, guessing!) both events for some time now but today I can offer you a very much more professional summary of the China problem courtesy of Mr. Jeremy Warner in The Telegraph.  What I can say with some conviction is that if Italy goes bust because of its debt it might produce an exceedingly loud bang in Europe but if China goes 'tits up' the entire world will feel some massive reverberations!

This is a relatively recent phenomenon; up until the global financial crisis, China’s debt problem was nothing to get too concerned about. But then came Lehman’s and the consequent collapse in Western demand. To compensate, and keep its own growth on track, China launched a fiscal and monetary stimulus of unprecedented size and scope. Since then, growth in debt has far outstripped economic output, rising from around 170pc of GDP at the time of the crisis to more than 300pc today.[My emphasis]

By and large, I am exceedingly doubtful about Trump's tariff war with China but given the current strength of the American economy my guess is that 'Uncle Sam' can take the collateral damage more steadily than China.  All those 'zillions' of Chinese people, former peasants or the sons of peasants, have been given, for the first time ever, a taste of 'the good life' and they will be exceedingly pissed off if it collapses all around them.

……………………………………………………………………………..

A corrective, or perhaps I should say, another opinion, this time from A E-P in The Telegraph who suspects that China, under its strict, or shall we say, dictatorial system, will march steadily on through any trade crisis that results from the current tariff 'war'.  What do I think?  I'll tell you when it's over - I should live so long, my life already!

 

Oh no, not more yadda-yadda!

Sky News, my 'go to' TV news station - not because it's particularly good but only because the BBC is utter crap! - has begun a campaign to make televised political debates prior to an election a legal requirement.  Well, good luck with that one!  Personally, such debates as we have had, both 'over here' and those 'over there', have never produced anything except more CO2 and, frankly, I think politicians' hot air is the cause of global warming!

These 'events' are so tightly scripted and controlled you learn nothing.  The only result is that previously conceived opinions, for and against, are simply cemented even deeper.  There is a place, I think, for politicians to face alone a grilling by a small team of experienced political commentators from all sides of the political spectrum.  It might not teach you much about the politicians but it might throw some light on the perspicacity of those 'wiseacres' who tell us what to think via the media!

 

American politics are vile!

Sorry, America, because you know I love you really but your politicians, by and large and with some rare exceptions, are vile and stupid beyond comprehension.  Take for example this putrid pile of Democratic poo dropped into the confirmation hearing for Judge Kavanaugh.  Golly-gosh, would you believe it, 36 years after the alleged incident, a raving, feminist Left-winger accuses the Judge of having sexually groped her at a College party when he would have been 17 years of age and she was 15.  Heavens to Betsy, when I think of the number of girls I groped 'back in the day' I fear I might end up in the 'slammer' for life!

However, this, er, 'lady' has managed to keep it all bottled up until just the moment when he might land on the Supreme Court bench where, heaven forfend, he might do down some of the beloved shibboleths of the Democratic party!  It is absolutely no surprise that she is an ardent, one might even suggest, fanatical supporter of the Democrats who leans decidedly Left and who loathes and detests President Trump - perhaps he groped her too!

Even worse is the sly, devious way in which that old bag, Sen. Dianne Feinstein, sat on the story until the very last moment, probably knowing that it was all 'good ol' BS' but hoping that perhaps it would be enough to delay a decision until after the mid-terms when possibly - just possibly - the Dems might win enough to put an end to Kavanaugh's nomination for ever.  Then there is some 'RINO' Senator, appropriately called Flake, whose detestation of Donald Trump is such that he's indicating he might join this disgusting Dem farrago.

In the meantime, of course, an honourable man, investigated and cleared five times by the FBI as he worked his way up the judicial ladder, has had his reputation trashed.  David French has an immaculately balanced view of the whole thing over at the NR. 

 

 

Your (late) Monday Funnies: 17.9.18

I know, I know, all over the world offices and factories are grinding to a halt because the Monday Funnies are late - again!  Sorry, sorry but this morning it has been hell here, sheer hell, I tell you, but never mind because, thanks to my little elves beavering away in the joke mine, I have some A1 side-splitters for you:

A cowboy walks into the bedroom carrying a sheep in his arms and says, "Honey, this is the cow I make love to when you have a headache."

The wife, laying in the bed reading a book, looks up and says, "If you weren't such an idiot, you'd know that's a sheep, not a cow."

The guy replies, "If you weren't such a presumptuous bitch, you'd realize I was talking to the sheep."

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

 

God said, "Adam, I want you to do something for Me. "

Adam said, "Gladly, Lord, what do You want me to do?"

God said , "Go down into that valley ."

Adam said, "What's a valley?"

God explained it to him.

Then God said, "Cross the River ."

Adam said, "What's a river?"

God explained that to him, and then said, "Go over to the hill ......"

Adam said,  "What is a hill?"

So, God explained to Adam what a hill was.

He told Adam, "On the other side of the hill you will find a cave ."

Adam said, 'What's a cave?'

After God explained, He said, "In the cave you will find a woman."

Adam said, "What's a woman?'

So God explained that to him, too.

Then, God said, 'I want you to reproduce ."

Adam said, "How do I do that?"

And then, just like everything else, God explained that to Adam, as well .

So, Adam goes down into the valley, across the river, and over the hill, into the cave, and finds the woman.

In about five minutes, he was back.

God, His patience wearing thin, said angrily , "What is it now ?"

And Adam said.... "What's a headache?"

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This one is specially for 'Whiters':

Thinking back a year, living in North Carolina, I remember Hurricane Irma. I was ready for it but my wife was not.  When the wind reached a screaming pitch with the trees snapping and threshing, the horizontal streaming rain, flying roofing tiles and destroyed lanais, as well as the unnerving sound-levels, my wife was rooted to the spot. She stared and stared through the glass of the window. Immovable, with her nose pressed to the windowpane, the stark fear in her eyes will stay with me forever. Fortunately, as the eye of the storm arrived and the winds temporarily lessened, I was able to open the door and let her in.

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

 

And so is this!

Saturday morning I got up early, dressed quietly, made my lunch,
grabbed the dog, slipped quietly into the garage to hook the boat up
to the truck, and proceeded to back out into a torrential down pour.
The wind was blowing 50 mph.

I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered
that the weather would be bad throughout the day.

I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into
bed. There I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different
anticipation, and whispered, 'The weather out there is terrible.'

My loving wife of 20 years replied,
'Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that crap?'
I still don't know to this day if she was joking, but I have stopped fishing.

 

That's y0ur lot, 's.w.m.b.o.' has another list of jobs for me to do!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 16.9.18

Sorry for my absence yesterday.  I had a longish drive with the Memsahib to meet up for lunch with 'SoD' and his lovely 'dahlinkie'.  Alas, the pub-restaurant was not very good and it seemed as thought it was 'amateur hour' in the kitchen.  Never mind, it's always good to see 'SoD' and put him right on a few things - er, when I can get a word in, that is!

More madness:   This, of course, follows on from the incompetent lunacy displayed by the Electoral Commission about which I wrote yesterday.  Now I read, to absolutely no surprise, that the Met Police are similarly infected.  The commander of the Anti-Corruption Squad gave his officers a pep-talk the other day and whilst insisting that they must adhere to the very highest standards in there conduct he suggested that they must be "whiter than white".  To no-one's surprise, this was immediately made the basis of a racial complaint and the officer has been stood down subject to a lengthy investigation.  If Chief Constable Dickhead, ooops, sorry, Cressida Dick had more than 3.7 brain cells she would put an instant stop to it and re-instate the officer.  Don't hold your breath.

An absolute 'Must Read':   I refer to Mr. Andrew Sullivan's essay in the Daily Intelligencer.  It was provoked by the latest book written by Mr. Roger Scruton, a man whose intellectual powers I much admire.  The book is Conservatism: An Invitation to the Great Tradition and I read the reviews and would have bought the book on the spot but then I remembered I was only up to Henry II in my latest book The Story of Britain so I was going to be somewhat pre-occupied for a while!  Even so, it was enough to enthuse Mr. Sullivan to write an absolutely excellent article which I urge you to read.

'Laurenski' and 'Hardynski':  I refer, of course, to the two Russian clowns who tried to kill the Skripols - and missed! - then inadvertently killed a totally innocent woman.  The message according to the 'prints' is that they have badly embarrassed the Russian government and their own thuggish organisation.  Maybe, baby, but I don't believe you could embarrass that bunch of goons, and certainly not their 'glorious leader' in any way.  From Putin down they are so infused with their own swaggering conceit they wouldn't blush if their trousers fell down in the Praesidium!  Their motto remains  - 'Carry on Killing'!

He did it, by Jove, he did it - again!   Yes, (Sir) Lewis Hamilton, building on his incredibly quick qualifying lap, strolled away to won the Singapore Grand Prix and build a 'yuuuuuge' lead over Vettel in the leadership points table.  Mind you, I find these street races very tedious especially when they take place at night.

Peter Hitchens is hard, cruelly hard - but right!   In today's Mail, Peter Hitchens has some extremely sour opinions to ram down our throats.  I nearly threw up but managed to control it because very little of it was new to me.  Hitchens lacerates Winston Churchill for his conduct during the war and the old booby deserves it, or at least, some of it.  However, there is one thing about Churchill in the war that we should all admire and treasure and that was his brilliant effect on morale.  He was the ultimate symbol and his galvanising effect on morale was tremendous.  Hitchens has written a book on the subject and, dammit, I will just have to grit my teeth and read it.

The Phoney Victory: The World War II Illusion

 

Was there ever a bigger tit than this particular tit?

 I give you - oh go on, take him, there's no charge! - the Most Rev. Justin Welby, aka, the Archbishop of Canterbury.  He was the total tit who complained bitterly about the exorbitant profits and harsh working conditions associated with Amazon.  Guess what!  It transpires that the C of E have 'yuuuuuuge' investments in Amazon!  Now we learn from The Mail, who are very naughty boys and girls, that a Syrian refugee family of two adults and four children who were offered refuge in Lambeth Palace have now been given the less than holy boot and asked to leave.

 

No more rumbles 

 

They couldn't write an 'X'

I am obliged (as so often!) to Guido Fawkes for summarising the recent court case in which the august officers stumblebums who run our Electoral Commission were humiliated in the High Court yesterday in their ludicrous action against the 'Vote Leave' organisation who, they claimed, had broken the strict financial rules governing receipt of funds in the recent referendum. 

It now transpires that prior to the referendum, 'Vote Leave' diligently requested advice and instruction from the Electoral Commission as to what was permitted and what was not.  They followed these rulings meticulously - and then found themselves accused of cheating by, er, well, the Electoral Commission, actually!  The Commission is now attempting to impose 'yuuuuuge' fines on 'Vote Leave' - for following their own advice!

'Guido' sums it up thus:

The High Court’s judgement describes the Electoral Commission as “unconstructive”, “arbitrary” and lacking “any rational basis” for its actions. They have ruled that the Electoral Commission itself does not understand electoral law. How can the Electoral Commission possibly be fit for purpose if it does not even understand electoral law itself?

I could not have put it better myself - well done, Guido - again!

 

Calling Carolina ... calling Carolina ...

Well, so far, so just bearable but, dammit, 'Florence' is a real 'slow coach' which means that it will inflict its wrath for longer.  Happily, 'Whiters', our regular commenter, remains stoic and, more important, safe within his 'bunker'.  The link he sent is worth a look because it features a photo of a fishing pier which he uses fairly frequently and you will notice that one of the hand-rails is sagging somewhat.  My guess is that that is where he leans for support as he drags in all those 'yuuuuuuuuuge' whales he catches so regularly!

Anyway, we wish him safe and hope that 'Florence' gets a move on and just buggers off!

Actually, I picked up a line in one of the papers today suggesting that 'Florence', who is obviously a very naught 'gal', might produce an off-spring which could head in our direction!  Shockin', shockin', I'm sure Her Maj will not be amused - and neither will I!

 

 

Is it racist, sexist or just tennisist?

I refer to the cartoon by Mark Knight which appeared in the Australian Herald Sun following Ms. Serena Williams', er, performance at the American Tennis tournament.  

Mark Knight captures Serena Williams’ temper tantrum at the US Open.

Obviously, Mr. Knight is a very naughty Australian boy and if there was any justice in the world he would have his 'bottie' smacked - by Ms. Williams, of course!  Needless to say, all the usual dimwits have produced a screeching chorus of 'shock 'n' horror' and accused Mr. Knight of racism and misogyny and, perhaps worst of all, outright, disgraceful ladies 'tennisism'!

Me?  I think it's spot on, everything a cartoon should be, sharp, witty and a very good likeness!

The spies who ran home from the cold!

Oh my giddy aunt, I have just read the funniest article ever in The Telegraph!  Apparently, the two murderous but totally incompetent, Russian thugs who attacked the Skripals but killed an innocent Englishwoman by mistake, have been interviewed on that Putin arse-licking site known as Russia Today.  You couldn't make it up - but they could!

According to them they were just two, innocent 'Rooskie' lads who flew all the way to London in order to visit, er, well, Salisbury, actually, in order to visit the cathedral - as you do! - although despite their claimed interest in famous churches they couldn't be bothered to visit the 1,000 year old Westminster Abbey!  They didn't stay long because, despite being 'Rooskies' who spend half their lives up to their waists in snow, they were rather 'frit' of "slushy snow" - yeeeees, quite!

Here they are, not far from the Skripals' home and you can see for yourselves what hellish, arctic conditions they were in with all that, er, 'snow'!  Anyway, their religious pilgrimage over they trained it back to London and within hours they they shot out to Heath-row airport and were on an aircraft back to 'Mother Russia'.

If that is an example of Russian secret ops at its most professional then I can't say I am too worried about 'Vlad the Impaler' attacking Europe because he'll probably send his forces into China by mistake!

 

 

Is this the bestest history book I have ever read?

Before I begin my morning drone let me assure you that my 'Grump Factor' has reduced somewhat from yesterday when Typepad joined the 'yuuuuuge', secret conspiracy that has formed over the years to drive me mad.  I don't quite know why it is so bloody-bloody irritating when one's computer plays up - but it is!  Perhaps it's because all those 'square-heads' who (allegedly) understand how they work never stop prating about how 'wizzy-do' their products are being jam-packed full of the cleverest clever things since clever things were invented - by them, natch!  So, one growls, how come your clever thing just stopped working?  (By the way, thanks to JK for confirming in the comments to yesterday's post that Typepad was off the rails and it wasn't just me raving away up here in my attic!)

Enough of that because I want to tell you about the very 'bestest' history book I have ever read.  I refer to The Story of Britain: From the Romans to the Present by Sir Roy Strong.  Of course, it is not really the best history book I have ever read but it is truly excellent.  Almost every other history book I have read has concentrated on one particular subject but this one is truly panoramic, as the title implies.  I am still in the early stages but already I can discern, what Sir Roy sees clearly, the mostly gradual but sometimes explosive patina of a nation and a society evolving over time.  His prose is clear and straightforward with no over-reaching philosophical formula to justify or criticise the events.  It is a perfect example of that old American TV detective who demanded that people "just gimme the facts!"

It is a tale of two steps forward, followed by one step back but perhaps the most important factor was that we are an island and thus we were forever on the bubble, evolving and changing.  Compare that to, say, Russia where, so to speak, 'stasis rules OK'!  Christmas is approaching so put it on your gift list!

 

 

"It was just one of those days . . ."

. . . just one of those totally, shitty, irritating, nothing goes right days and as it was problems with my computer - I blame 'SoD'!  Well, he is my IT Manager even if he doesn't get paid for it!  Surely it is sufficient that he can place me on his list of clients and gain 'yuuuuuuuuuuge' kudos when he hawks his CV around - not that I get any thanks for it!

Anyway, actually I think it was the wrong time of the month for Typepad because it was whilst 'talking' to them that things began to go wrong.  Of course, there is an additional factor in that I don't speak 'computerese'.  I mean, I hear or read all those terms used by the likes of 'SoD' and all the other 'square-heads' who understand these black boxes but I can never remember what they mean.  So when 'SoD' or one of those gorgeous blondes who operate the Help Line at Typepad - how do I know they're gorgeous blondes, because I just do, now 'shaddup' and pay attention! - ask me what "browser" I am using, there is an embarrassed silence whilst I try to remember what a "browser" is when it's at home!

You see, I operate (if that is quite the word!) my computer on a very simple system - and I heard that! - just so long as I do more or less exactly the same thing today as I did yesterday, and the day before that, then all is well but if one thing doesn't work then it is 'collapse of stout party' whilst I click every button on both my screen and my 'type-writer-thingie' and then summon up the courage to ring 'SoD' who is always, of course, at 'Grump Factor 10' just because he's halfway through an interview with the boss of some mega-big company trying to get himself a contract!

Anyway, I was forced to postpone my utterly fascinating and insightful post - who cheered? -  that I was ready type out on D&N so you will just have to wait until tomorrow!

 

Two hurricanes, one 'over here' and one 'over there'

The one 'over there' sounds pretty horrific and has been described as one of the worst to hit in years.  It's heading inexorably towards the east coast aimed at South Carolina and if my more than somewhat dodgy memory serves, our mutual friend, 'Whitewall' lives in North Carolina.  Our thoughts are with you, buddy!

Meanwhile, 'over here' we don't have a physical hurricane approaching but a political one and it is best described as an A1 shitstorm of the first order!  The Tory party is already tearing itself to shreds and my finger, or perhaps my two fingers, are pointed firmly at the 'Remoaner' faction who, having given us, 'the Peeps', the power of a referendum to take a decision, are now hellbent on reversing it - or pissing in our soup, as I think of it!  We, 'the Peeps', may return the compliment in a more solid form come the next election!

To no-one's surprise, Mrs. May (and all her teen-age, nitwit advisors) has failed the test.  It is now almost certain that she will collapse within the next few days/weeks/months.  Her only hope for survival is the pathetic quality of the likely 'runners and riders' vying for her job.  'Boing-Boing' Boris has confirmed the worst suspicions concerning his innate lack of responsibility.  He has turned out to be a frightfully posh, 'Old Etonian', Oxbridge Trump!  He has displayed a total disregard for responsibility in his personal life which, of course, has left his political ambitions in tatters.

Various 'wannabes' are now vying for a chance.  The only one I hope and pray for is 'The Moggman' who is both highly intelligent and highly principled but, alas, I do not think he is in with a chance.  Sajid Javid is a possibility.  His life, beginning as the son of a Pakistani, immigrant, bus-conductor and ending up as a mega-wealthy City slicker speaks well for his character and his innate love of capitalism.  Meanwhile, hiding behind the arras, Corbyn, MacDonnell and their vile Trotskyite 'thugocracy' are already preparing their arrest lists!

 

 

Yesterday I went a.w.o.l. - luverly!

Sorry and all that but yesterday I surrendered to the sophisticated delights and excitements of, er, well, Sidmouth, actually!  Well, 'going abroad' adds a frisson of excitement to any 'away day' and, 'as any fule do no', Sidmouth do be in Devon (sorry about my accents!), so it was passports at the ready and an interpreter to hand as we crossed the frontier under the unblinking stares of sundry sheep!

It was a perfect day, warm, sunny with puffs of cotton-wool clouds and best of all, my pal did all the driving!  As usual, we made for The Belmont Hotel on the esplanade which makes Trump Towers look like a Las Vegas bordello - waddya mean, it always does?!  We settled into comfortable chairs round a table near the open door with a view over the beach and sea.  Alas, there was a distinct shortage of young 'gals' dressed (sort of) in string bikinis but perhaps that was a good thing because at my age I can't take too much in the way of, er, stimulation.

Several gallons of strong, black coffee arrived in an instant to revive us from our journey.  The ladies talked on (and on) about whatever ladies talk on and on about whilst my pal and I began to set the world to rights, well, to be fair, I did most of that whilst he just listened and I knew he was concentrating hard because several times his eyes closed!  We decided to avoid the dining room and instead we had a light lunch where we were.  I had a plate of smoked salmon with some 'yuuuuuge' fat chips and salad, all washed down with a glass or three of Pinot Grigio.  It's years since I last drank Pinot Grigio and I had forgotten how delicious and refreshing it can be.

After that, I sensed my pal was determined to give his opinion on the state of the world so I quickly suggested a brisk walk along the esplanade, well, not exactly brisk, you understand, more like the slow march we used to practice in the army prior to a funeral!  Viewing the visitors to downtown Sidmouth, I was a little concerned that on average they seemed a little younger than usual but as my shrewd pal suggested, that might be because we are getting older!

Anyway, soon, too soon, it was time to go home and leave the rolling hills of Devon (well, they seemed to be rolling a bit but that might have been the Pinot Grigio) and return to the smoke-stacked chimneys and factories and endless slums of industrial 'Zummerzet' - well, perhaps I exaggerate a tad but the bloody farmer to the south of my village was burning something!  Anyway, soon it was time for bed and, yes, I slept like a log.

Just about as perfect a day as anyone could wish for - but a pity about the missing girlies on the beach . . .

 

 

Your Monday Funnies: 10.9.18

Pushed for time so forgive any errors:

 

An old, blind cowboy wanders into an all-girl biker bar by mistake...

He finds his way to a bar stool and orders a shot of Jack Daniels.
After sitting there for a while, he yells to the bartender,

”Hey, you wanna hear a blonde joke?'

The bar immediately falls absolutely silent.

In a very deep, husky voice, the woman next to him says, 'Before you tell that joke, Cowboy, I think it is only fair, given that you are blind, that you should know five things:
1. The bartender is a blonde girl with a baseball bat.
2. The bouncer is a blonde girl with a 'Billy-Club'.
3. I'm a 6-foot tall, 175-pound blonde woman with a black belt in karate.
4. The woman sitting next to me is blonde and a professional weight lifter.
5. The lady to your right is blonde and a professional wrestler.
'Now, think about it seriously, Cowboy .. do you still wanna tell that blonde joke?'

The blind cowboy thinks for a second, shakes his head and mutters,
'No ... not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times".

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And, lo, here are some great truths:

1 - I'd kill for a Nobel Peace Prize.

2 - Borrow money from pessimists -- they don't expect it back.

3 - Half the people you know are below average.

4 - 99% of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

5 - 82.7% of all statistics are made up on the spot.

6 - A conscience is what hurts when all your other parts feel so good.

7 - A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

8 - If you want the rainbow, you got to put up with the rain.

9 - All those who believe in psycho kinesis, raise my hand.

10 - The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

11 - I almost had a psychic girlfriend, But she left me before we met.

12 - OK, so what's the speed of dark?

13 - How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?

14 - If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.

15 - Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

16 - When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

17 - Ambition is a poor excuse for not having enough sense to be lazy.

18 - Hard work pays off in the future; laziness pays off now.

19 - I intend to live forever. So far, so good.

20 - If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends?

21 - Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

22 - What happens if you get scared half to death twice?

23 - My mechanic told me, "I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder."

24 - Why do psychics have to ask you for your name.

25 - If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried.

26 - A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.

27 - Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.

28 - The hardness of the butter is proportional to the softness of the bread.

29 - To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research.

30 - The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.

31 - The sooner you fall behind, the more time you'll have to catch up.

32 - The colder the x-ray table, the more of your body is required to be on it.

33 - Everyone has a photographic memory; some just don't have film.

34 - If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.

35 - If your car could travel at the speed of light, would your headlights work?

 

And here's another great truth - if I don't get going the 'Memsahib' is going to kill me!  See y'all later . . .

 

The Sunday Rumble: 9.9.18

'Obamarama' bores for America:   I only caught a smidgeon of his speech the other day because, alas - or should that be thank God? - I dozed off!  Lordy-Lordy, how that man drones on and on with his head moving mechanically right, left, right with long, long pauses in between.  I was amused but not surprised that some 'very naughty boy' had analysed his speech and discovered that he used the words "I, My, Me" – more than 102 times in about 64 minutes and of these three words, "I" came out tops at 87 mentions.  As a hobby, I used to give talks so when it comes to sending people off to sleep, I know where-of I speak but good ol' Barrack has me beat hands down!

Gauke is a dork!   Our new Sec. of State for Justice, David Gauke MP, has suggested that prisoners should be provided with in-cell telephones to make life in prison more comfortable for them.  No, Mr. Secretary, life in prison should not be made more comfortable, it should be made exceedingly harsh and unpleasant.  I do not have the expertise to specify how this should be done but the end result should be that villains might think twice before committing crimes.

Who is Penny Mordaunt?   Well, don't ask me!  The name is vaguely familiar but she is not on my Xmas card list.  Even so, The Telegraph has an entire article devoted to what is an obvious pitch from the lady for leadership of the Conservative party.  Apparently, she is running second to 'Boing-Boing' Boris but he does not appear to be overly bothered:

Former foreign secretary Boris Johnson sits with his eyes closed at the fifth Test between England and India at the Oval Credit: Matt Dunham/AP

Don't blame him for indolence, if you chaps shagged as many ladies as 'Boing-Boing' Boris, you would need an afternoon nap, too!

Jolly 'Jack Tars' keep up their finest tradition:   I was delighted to read in The Mail that several sailors from HMS Queen Elizabeth celebrated the fact that their ship actually made it across the Atlantic by going ashore in Florida and getting totally 'ratted'.  This led to various punch-ups and pissing on by-standers from the balcony of a bar.  

'Violence broke out outside Lynch’s Irish Bar. A manager said: ‘The Royal Navy guys came in like a flood, boom. Like they had suddenly been let out of a cage and now they were free. It was unreal and we just weren’t prepared for it.’

Fortunately the Florida 'plod' turned up and after tasering a couple of the matelots they arrested the remainder.  I say 'fortunately' because had the US Navy Shore Patrol been on hand most of them would have ended up in hospital.  To say that US Navy shore patrolmen are 'yuuuuuuuuge' is an understatement.  On my one and only contact with them I learned that their s.o.p. in clearing a bar of drunken sailors was to charge in in a wedge shape and using their baseball bats to put everyone on the floor with cracked skulls.  Then they would pick up the pieces!  Er, rule Britannia and all that sort of thing  . . .

 

In which I take on Peter Hitchens:   Alright, perhaps not today but I will another day!  He has a long essay in The Mail pointing out - or perhaps that should be 'ramming home' - the fact that we, the Brits, did not win the war.  Well, most people (I think!) know that already.  What we actually did, which was just as remarkable and important, is that we did not lose the war!  Thus, America (eventually) had a base 22 miles from German controlled territory from which they, with a little help from their 'friends', could eventually attack and destroy the Nazi regime.  I gather that Mr. Hitchens has a book coming out on the subject which I will read with interest - and then criticise as necessary.

 

At last, ladies tennis gets interesting:   As you all do know, I am not a lover of women's tennis  which is, to me, the greatest bore outside of golf!  The fact that some of the, er, ladies appear to have an orgasm every time they hit the ball which they signal with an ear-piercing shriek, thus waking me up just as I have drifted off, adds to my irritation.  However, yesterday Ms. Serena Williams added a certain 'je ne sais quoi' to the otherwise boring, plink-plonk game by having an endless shouting match with the referee.  I perked up at that but then she ruined it all by switching the rant to her belief that she was speaking on behalf of women's rights.  I switched off! 

……………………………………………………………………………...

Sorry, sorry, I had a few more rumbles to unload but alas those damned "events, dear boy, events" intervened.  I hope to find the time to leave you with some 'Funnies' tomorrow morning before I go off tomorrow for lunch by the seaside.  I know, I know, it's a hard life!

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

Time to flog the BBC

For the benefit of my foreign readers who might not be fully aware of the, er, finer points of contemporary English wot is spoke in these modern times, let me explain that whilst the word 'flog' can mean a lashing with whips or canes, it can also mean 'sell', as in 'I want to flog my old second-hand motor, know wot I mean, John?!'

In the case of the BBC, I mean 'flog' in both senses of the word!

Today, I learn, or rather I have my previous suspicions confirmed, that the British State Broadcaster is nothing more nor less than a paid (by me!!!!!) mouthpiece for any and all loony Left beliefs.  I am grateful to one of my favourite (non)global warming sites, Watts Up With That, who have published the BBC's diktat guidelines on how the subject of global warming must be handled by its journalists and presenters.  In effect, it instructs them that any and all attempts, no matter how scientifically supported, to suggest that AGW is a load of old cobblers must be treated with hostility.

There is only one solution to this flagrant bias - privatise the BBC, er, if you can find anyone who is deaf, dumb and blind and possessed of more than sixpence.  I would suggest looking inside the Green Party!

 

 

So farewell then, Burt Reynolds and R.I.P.

I was sorry to hear of the death of Burt Reynolds.  I only saw a few of his films but 'Deliverance' sticks in my mind as rather good.  Also, against what I gather was the general opinion, I enjoyed 'A Bunch of Amateurs' in which he played the part of an American movie star down on his luck who accepts an invitation to play King Lear at Stratford but, alas, who finally realises that it is the amateur - very amateur! - 'Stratford Players' from a small village in Suffolk who have hired him.  Given the ups and downs of his real life career that film must have been a little too close to reality to be comfortable but he sailed through it with good humour.

Even a glance at his bio indicates that he was 'a very naughty boy' but I suspect Hollywood has seen worse.  Also, I vaguely remember seeing him in a fairly long one-on-one interview in which he came across as extremely amiable with a very clear and detached view of himself.  I think I would have enjoyed having a dinner with him - and I can't say that about most 'luvvies'!

 

 

Nobody exploits blacks like yellows!

As usual, 'The Speccie' comes up with a fascinating sideways look at something we mostly do not know and even if we did we would mostly ignore.  This time, however, enlightenment comes, not from one of their distinguished essayists but from a reader - and no, not me!  It is Mr. Geoff Neden from Shropshire - lucky bugger, it's a beautiful county!  Sorry I can't reprint it because they do not show the letters page on their site, so you will just have to go out and buy a copy!

Mr. Neden takes exception to last week's leading article which complained that "It is unrealistic to expect that we can achieve what China has in Africa over the past decade".  He actually breathes a sigh of relief because he believes that what the Chinese have done in Africa over recent decades amounts to economic rape and pillage!  He specifies some examples, beginning with the (in)famous 'TanZam' railway which was financed not by a grant from China but by a loan - and you can guess who nicked the cream off that!  All the designs, engineers, machinery, materials - and the labour(!) were Chinese.  When the 600+km railway was finished, it was found that the lines had been laid too high and the Botswana government (= the people) had to relay every level crossing at its own expense.  Needless to say, the governments concerned remain in debt to the Chinese government.

Time to change Virgil's old saying to "Beware the Chinese bearing gifts"!

 

I despair, truly, I despair

Regular readers will know that, despite my occasional side-swipes, I have an instinctive and deep affection for America.  Thus, watching it slowly but surely sinking into a swamp of disgusting, amoral, hysterical madness is more than somewhat depressing.  Of course, there is an instinctive tendency to point the finger at Trump who, far from setting a good example, deliberately hurls petrol on any fire he spots.  Even so, there are rules and laws to deal with any aberrant behaviour by a President should he infringe them.  To date, and I do not claim any special knowledge of the American constitution, I have not seen or heard anything from him that would stand up in a court to an accusation of unconstitutional behaviour.  Aggravating - yes, infuriating - yes, unwise - yes again, but not a breech of the law of the land.  And, I should add quickly, there have also been examples of shrewd political decision-making.

Then, and this is where it gets truly depressing, you have to look to the opposition.  The Democratic party as we knew it no longer exists.  Just as our own Labour party, with its truly honourable history of decency and good intentions, has been captured by a gang of fanatics and turned into a vicious sect, so the Democratic party 'over there' has suffered the same fate.  Its few sound, sensible voices have been drowned out by a Left-wing cacophony of mindless stupidity and malevolence aimed at the brain-dead or the juvenile who are frequently the same people!  At the same time, and this is truly evil, they take every possible opportunity to stoke the fires of racial antipathy which, if it continues, is likely to produce a disastrous conflagration - disastrous, that is, for all Americans, black, white or brown.

This is all summed up in one particularly disgusting, and I would suggest also criminal, act by a senior White House official who has penned an anonymous, and therefore cowardly beyond description, report claiming that he/she and others employed in the service of their country at the White House are actively sabotaging the elected President's orders.  As David French puts it with spot on exactitude at the NRO:

If you’re actively defying the president to pursue your own preferred policies, you’re subverting an American presidential election. If you’re withholding from the American people actual hard evidence of presidential unfitness, then you’re placing your own career before your country. If you’re lying or badly exaggerating the facts for the thrill of constant media contact or the approval of your peers, then you’re just despicable.

[…]

So here’s what you have to do: You have to identify yourself. You have to state the basis of your claims, name the cabinet members who “whispered” about removing the president, and state the reasons for their alarm. If what you say is true, the American people need to know. You need to tell them, and you need to do it not in a television interview or the pages of the Times, but in Congress, under oath, in front of the nation.

Yes, this will be hard. But if you truly believe the president is unfit, basic patriotism demands nothing less.

I only saw bits and pieces, thank God, of the opening of the Senate Judiciary Committee hearings into the appointment of Judge Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court.  What a disgusting pantomime it was courtesy, or do I mean 'discourtesy', of the Democratic Senators.  Knowing they had no chance of tripping up the Judge, they did their very best (worst) to close down the proceedings by reducing it to a shouty, disorganised demo of the very worst kind.  I do hope as many Americans as possible watched the proceedings to see and judge this bunch of undemocratic hooligans at work!  Of course, at least three of them were very much more concerned with gaining support, publicity and contributions to their efforts to win the Democratic nomination for the next Presidential election than they were about whether or not Judge Kavanaugh takes his seat.  I can only hope that when he gets there he does indeed strike down the evil Roe v. Wade ruling which has blighted American society for decades.

Sorry to be so depressing but I do believe in sharing my misery and grumpiness - no need to thank me!

 

What's the Russian for 'stupid, bungling failures'?

I was tempted to title this post "Carry On up the Kremlin" given that the two dim, dumb dolts tasked with murdering Sergei Skripal made a complete hash of their operation, failing to kill the targets and only 'succeeding', by accident, in killing the wrong person!  For the benefit of my foreign readers, the "Carry On" franchise was a series of British film comedies in which everything that could go wrong, does so in hilarious fashion.  Having said that, of course, I should emphasise that the death of a totally innocent lady, and the continuing serious condition of her partner is absolutely no laughing matter.  However, before people begin to panic it is worth reminding ourselves that the entire bungling and bungled operation is the equivalent of the old Russian Lada cars, most of which could only be certain to reach the bottom of a hill if they are push-started at the top!

Alexander Petrov and Ruslan Boshirov

Even so, it is an outrage that a foreign power should be able to send its equivalent of Laurel and Hardy into this country in order to use a military grade nerve agent as a murder weapon.  I do not pretend to know exactly what the government should do but for sure it should be made very much more difficult for Russians, any Russians, to obtain an entry visa to the UK.  Equally, it is long overdue for the financial authorities to conduct a forensic examination of the oligarch wealth swilling around the City.  Will they do it?  Don't hold your breath!

 

 

Enough to make you weep

Well, I finished it!  It took a long time, not least because about two thirds of the way through I was so depressed I had to take a break and it was really hard work summoning up the strength to return.  I refer to the late Richard Lamb's superb history of the British government during the 1930s, The Drift to War.  Since my younger days I have always been a keen 'student' of the Second World War ever since I read Chester Wilmot's devastating - well, devastating to my youthful idealism - book The Struggle for Europe.  That era fascinated me to such an extent that I rather ignored the decade which led up to it.  Of course, I dismissed the memory of Neville Chamberlain whose only claim to fame was waving that piece of paper and claiming "peace in our time" the year before war broke out!  Also, I do remember reading, and swallowing, a defence of his record at Munich that claimed he had only 'surrendered' in order to gain more time to build more Spitfires.  Total 'blx', of course.

Having read Lamb's coruscating history, my only desire now is to dig up Chamberlain's bones, along with Lord Halifax's, Anthony Eden's and most of the rest of the cabinet of the day, and hang them from sundry trees in London.  Their blind stupidity, despite all the evidence that accrued almost from the day Adolph Hitler took power, was criminal.  Chamberlain's decision to throw Czechoslovakia to the Nazi wolves was not only a shameful act of cowardice but an act of crass stupidity which not only aided Germany but did us damage.  The Czech army of that time was very powerful not least because it was armed to the teeth with the very best products of the superb Skoda Armaments factory from which, of course, we were instantly cut off.  Chamberlain should have been taken out onto Westminster Green and shot!

Of course, whilst I am no historian, I am well aware of the many stains that have fouled our flag over the centuries but I don't think any of them match the catastrophe that Neville Chamberlain visited, not just upon the rest of the world, but this time on his own country.  I hope he rots in hell!

 

 

'Over here' and 'over there', things are coming to a head

If they weren't so frightfully British the stand off between Theresa May and Boris Johnson would be like one of those brilliant, old Westerns we all enjoyed as nippers.  Perhaps we could call it 'The Gunfight at the Westminster Coral ', except that Boris might well shoot himself in the foot, or Mrs. May will lose the opportunity to pull the trigger because she has too many utterly useless, juvenile advisors offering her conflicting advice.  Even so, they are both heading down the same track from opposite directions and a crash is now inevitable.  I have no idea who will come out of it alive, and frankly, I don't care because I don't think much of either of them and in any case, they will both come out as 'damaged goods'!  Even worse, of course, is that, barring a miracle, we, too, will be 'damaged goods, either courtesy of the malignant EU or the even more 'deplorable' Marxist-Labour party.

Meanwhile, 'over there' it is just a couple of months to the mid-term elections the outcome of which will have serious repercussions.  If the 'loony Left', who make the 'Ginger Ninjah' look almost statesman-like, win the House then we are set for two years of chaos and mayhem.  I do realise that 'The Big Don' doesn't pay that much attention to politics but if the vermin inside the FBI, the DoJ and the Democrat party have a knife to his throat over possible past misdemeanours, his entire time will be taken up with saving his own ginger arse and the rest of the world can just take care of itself!

'Interesting times' and all that sort of thing!

 

 

So that should have those scallywags trembling!

I have mentioned before the doubts I have concerning our brand new, shiny, young Secretary of Defence who, I suspect, might not be absolutely sure which arm to use in saluting!

Mind you, he seems to know how to cut a dash in the media wars as can be seen from his efforts to catch a few headlines with his proud announcement that Britain will despatch 440 soldiers to Afghanistan to sort out all those 'Hairies' who are threatening to bomb us even harder than old 'fatty' Goering managed in WWII.

By Jove, I bet all those 'Hairies' are trembling inside their caves at the prospect of 440 Brit 'squaddies' coming after them.  They probably remember what a terrific biffing we gave them a few years back, er, before we withdrew!  However, Mr. Williamson MP, the young lad above, tells us that our 'Toms' will be training thousands more 'Hairies', those in what passes for the Afghan army, how to operate their weaponry more efficiently. 

Yeeeees, well, that should work, er, shouldn't it?

 

 

Your Monday Funnies: 3.9.18

Alas, my Yankee-doodle friends will probably miss this very fine selection of the best of British and Australian wit - who sniggered? - because they are all lazing about on sundry beaches drinking cold beer - lucky devils!

This first one has a familiar ring to it but it still made me giggle:

Two women friends had gone out for a girls night
Both were very faithful and loving wives, however they had gotten over-enthusiastic on the Bacardi Breezers.

Incredibly drunk and walking home they needed to pee, so they stopped in the cemetery.

One of them had nothing to wipe with so she thought she would take off her panties and use them.

Her friend however was wearing a rather expensive pair of panties and did not want to ruin them. She was lucky enough to squat down next to a grave that had a wreath with a ribbon on it, so she proceeded to wipe with that.

After the girls did their business, they proceeded to go home.

The next day, the husband of one of the women was concerned that his normally sweet and innocent wife was still in bed hung over, so he phoned the other husband and said: "These girls nights have got to stop! I'm starting to suspect the worst. My wife came home with no panties!!"

"That's nothing," said the other husband, "Mine came back with a card stuck to her ass that said.....

'From all of us at the Fire Station. We'll never forget you.' "

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

 

Hollywood Squares:

These great questions and answers are from the days when the Hollywood Squares game show responses were spontaneous, not scripted, as they are now.

Peter Marshall was the host asking the questions, of course.

Q. Paul, what is a good reason for pounding meat?
A. Paul Lynde: Loneliness!
(The audience laughed so long and so hard it took up almost 15 minutes of the show!)

Q. Do female frogs croak?
A. Paul Lynde: If you hold their little heads under water long enough.

Q. If you're going to make a parachute jump, at least how high should you be? A. Charley Weaver: Three days of steady drinking should do it.

Q. True or False, a pea can last as long as 5,000 years.
A. George Gobel: Boy, it sure seems that way sometimes.

Q. You've been having trouble going to sleep. Are you probably a man or a woman?
A. Don Knotts: That's what's been keeping me awake.

Q. According to Cosmopolitan, if you meet a stranger at a party and you think that he is attractive, is it okay to come out and ask him if he's married?
A. Rose Marie: No wait until morning.

Q. Which of your five senses tends to diminish as you get older?
A. Charley Weaver: My sense of decency.

Q. In Hawaiian, does it take more than three words to say 'I Love You'?
A. Vincent Price: No, you can say it with a pineapple and a twenty.

Q. What are 'Do It,' 'I Can Help,' and 'I Can't Get Enough'?
A. George Gobel: I don't know, but it's coming from the next apartment.

Q. As you grow older, do you tend to gesture more or less with your hands while talking?
A. Rose Marie: You ask me one more growing old question Peter, and I'll give you a gesture you'll never forget.

Q. Paul, why do Hell's Angels wear leather?
A. Paul Lynde: Because chiffon wrinkles too easily.

Q. Charley, you've just decided to grow strawberries. Are you going to get any during the first year?
A.. Charley Weaver: Of course not, I'm too busy growing strawberries.

Q. In bowling, what's a perfect score?
A. Rose Marie: Ralph, the pin boy.

Q. It is considered in bad taste to discuss two subjects at nudist camps. One is politics, what is the other?
A. Paul Lynde: Tape measures.

Q. During a tornado, are you safer in the bedroom or in the closet?
A. Rose Marie: Unfortunately Peter, I'm always safe in the bedroom.

Q. Can boys join the Camp Fire Girls?
A. Marty Allen: Only after lights out.

Q. When you pat a dog on its head he will wag his tail. What will a goose do?
A. Paul Lynde: Make him bark?

Q. If you were pregnant for two years, what would you give birth to?
A. Paul Lynde: Whatever it is, it would never be afraid of the dark.

Q. According to Ann Landers, is there anything wrong with getting into the habit of kissing a lot of people?
A. Charley Weaver: It got me out of the army.

Q. It is the most abused and neglected part of your body, what is it?
A. Paul Lynde: Mine may be abused, but it certainly isn't neglected..

Q. Back in the old days, when Great Grandpa put horseradish on his head, what was he trying to do?
A. George Gobel: Get it in his mouth.

Q. Who stays pregnant for a longer period of time, your wife or your elephant?
A. Paul Lynde: Who told you about my elephant?

Q. When a couple have a baby, who is responsible for its sex?
A. Charley Weaver: I'll lend him the car, the rest is up to him

Q. Jackie Gleason recently revealed that he firmly believes in them and has actually seen them on at least two occasions. What are they?
A. Charley Weaver: His feet.

Q. According to Ann Landers, what are two things you should never do in bed?
A. Paul Lynde: Point and laugh.

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An Angel visited a woman and told her she must give up smoking, drinking and unmarried sex if she wanted to get into Heaven. The woman said she would try her best.

The Angel visited the woman a week later to see how she was getting on.

"Not bad" said the woman, "I've given up smoking and drinking but then I bent over to look in the freezer, my boyfriend caught sight of my long slender legs in high heels, he pulled up my skirt and made love to me right then and there."

"They don't like that in Heaven", said the Angel.

The woman replied: "They're not crazy about it in Harrods either!"

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

 

Finally - and I heard that cheer! - a real groan-inducer:

 

Here's a little fact for automotive buffs, or just to dazzle your friends.

The four Goldberg brothers, Lowell, Norman, Hiram, and Max, invented and developed the first automobile air-conditioner. On July 17, 1946 , the temperature in Detroit was 97 degrees.

The four brothers walked into old man Henry Ford's office and sweet-talked his secretary into telling him that four gentlemen were there with the most exciting innovation in the auto industry since the electric starter.

Henry was curious and invited them into his office.  They refused and instead asked that he come out to the parking lot to their car.

They persuaded him to get into the car, which was about 130 degrees, turned on the air conditioner, and slowly the car started to cool down, until after about eight minutes the car had cooled down to a comfortable 77 degrees

The old man got very excited and invited them back to the office, where he offered them $3 million for the patent.  The brothers refused, saying they would settle for $2 million, but they wanted the recognition by having a label, 'The Goldberg Air-Conditioner,' on the dashboard of each car in which it was installed.

Now old man Ford was more than just a little anti-Jewish, and there was no way he was going to put the Goldberg's name on two million Fords.

They haggled back and forth for about two hours and finally agreed on $4 million and that just their first names would be shown.

And so to this day, all Ford air conditioners show --
Lo, Norm, Hi, and Max -- on the controls.

Control yourself !

Well, I did warn you!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 2.9.18

What I do in bed at night:   No, no, not that - behave!  What I do is sleep with an ear-piece from my radio on the pillow next to me so that when I wake, I can listen in, usually to the BBC World Service.  Last night, by good fortune, I came across an absolute corker, a nine-year old repeat of an hour-long question and answer session with the American writer James Ellroy.  Oh boy, what a character he is!  I do remember reading, some years ago, one or two of his books from "The L.A. Quartet" and enjoying them immensely.  Listening to his dry, acerbic and witty talk last night, I am now determined to buy all four books to store on my Kindle.  I suggest you all give his Wiki entry a quick read to get a flavour of the man.

 

Sorry, sorry, I forgot:   I meant to tell y'all that last Wednesday was the beginning of the next series of "Upstart Crow" written by Ben Elton whose laundry list, I guess, is hilarious because he is a very funny fellow!  Anyway, watch out on BBC2 on Wednesday at 8.30.  According to a preview, this episode tells how William Shakespeare (played excellently by David Mitchell), thinks he has written a hilarious comedy but his companions try to tell him that there are absolutely no laughs in his first version of 'Hamlet'!  Incidentally, the title of the series comes from a contemporary and bitter rival of Shakespeare, Robert Greene, who issued a pamphlet describing him as "an upstart Crow, beautified with our feathers" - bitchy or what?!  Anyway, don't miss it!

 

Hmmmn!  So how will that work out?   From two different headlines in The Telegraph today, we have 'St. Theresa of May' insisting that there will be "No second referendum and no surrender to Brussels" and Michel Barnier, the EU's negotiator, warning that "Theresa May's Chequers deal will end the European project and Single Market".  Your guess is as good as mine! 

 

Today's race should be a corker!   Watching qualifying at Monza yesterday, I thought (Sir) Lewis's electrifying run had won him pole position but then the Ferraris squeezed him out to third place on the grid.  However, the delicious news is that instead of that 'damned Hun' gaining pole it was Kimi Raikkonen,  his No.2 team-mate (well, perhaps not entirely 'mate' now!), who nicked it.  The dash into the first chicane from the start should be interesting!

 

McCain's funeral brought out the worst of the living and the dead:   I have fretted, many a time and oft' recently, at the decline in decency in American politics.  The behaviour of nearly everyone involved in the funeral of Sen. John McCain, including the man himself, sank to abysmal depths.  Trump's refusal to keep the Stars and Stripes flying at half-mast was a sign of his petulant, childish ignorance.  Equally, McCain's insistence that the President of the United States should not be allowed to attend his funeral instantly brought him down to Trump's gutter level.  For God's sake, America, get a grip!

 

Then there is the gutter eruption from the British Labour party:   I never thought to see a day when one of the two leading political parties in Britain would sink to the toilet level that Jeremy Corbyn has reached with his vile, anti-Semitic programme - or should that be 'pogrom'?  It is almost beyond reason to try and fathom the depths of stupidity from the likes of Ed Miliband, a Jew himself, and the other dunderheads in the Labour party who agreed to a change in the rules which allowed Corbyn a chance to seize the leadership of their party.  They deserve what is coming their way but the rest of us do not!

 

What's the Italian for 'suck it up'?   I ask because the sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth from the massed tifosi (Ferrari fans) in the stands at Monza is hitting a crescendo!  Of course, (Sir) Lewis has done it again, driving like a demon and taking the chequered flag and poor little Vettel in the Ferrari could only manage fourth - oh dear what a pity never mind!

 

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

Dear Lord, I hereby request an extra ten years to my life span!

Well, I need those extra years if I am ever going to get through the mounting pile (or perhaps that should be 'mountain'!) of waiting-to-be-read books!  No sooner do I finish reading the interesting details of John Lilburne's life (see below) than I came across another book review in 'The Speccie' on a subject that has long fascinated me but which I have neve quite got around to studying in any sort of detail - and yes, that is the story of my life!  I refer to the history of Britain and 'the Jewel of the East' - India, as told this time by David Gilmour in his book "The British in India: Three Centuries of Ambition and Experience".

Needless to say, to begin with it was all about money and loot but gradually it evolved into something rather different.  According to the review, it's possible that had it remained a relationship based on good (or bad!) old-fashioned greed it might have gone better.  But alas and alack, it wasn't too long before the 'memsahibs' came and then after them came the evangelical Christians.  It was, apparently, all downhill after that!  But what a story!  And what a truly remarkable collection of people they were who mostly volunteered to make that incredibly long and hugely dangerous sea journey round Africa and up to India.

I trust the shade of Charles Dickens will forgive me my trespasses if I tear one of his most famous passages from its context and use it here:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Couldn't have put it better myself!

 

 

Dammit, you can never stop learning!

So there I was, minding my own business and quietly reading the book reviews in 'The Speccie', when I came across a review of a biography of John Lilburne (1614 – 29 August 1657) written by Michael Braddick.  Well, the name rang a very faint bell so I read the review and then, intrigued, I looked up Master Lilburne's Wiki entry.  Crikey, what a man, or possibly, what a total pain in the arse!  And all you 'Yankee-doodles' should check him out because he had a considerable influence on your constitution and his writings have been quoted at the Supreme Court!

I will not attempt to summarise his life, either buy Mr. Braddick's book or read his Wiki entry!  You will soon learn that Lilburne was a non-stop agitator, forever clashing with 'authority, be it the royal government of Charles I or the Republican rule of Oliver Cromwell.  Like a nagging fishwife, he never stopped fighting for the rights of individuals against the supposed rights of governments.  Needless to say, he suffered for his love of liberty and his jail-time was extensive and once it included being whipped across his naked back as he was dragged through the streets of London behind a cart.  But he never gave in!

I imagine he was not easy man to like but today we owe him - big time!

 

 

Your arty-farty briefing - no, don't thank me!

Saturday mornings, here at Chateau Duff, have assumed an almost religious sanctity as I start by dashing/shuffling (you choose!) round to the newsagent to buy The Mail and The Telegraph.  Then, armed with a strong black coffee, I settle down in my armchair to a few hours silent reading, er, well, almost silent apart from the usual stream of four-letter expletives!

It began this morning when I ploughed through a summary of "What's On in September".  Oh goody, I thought, when I spotted two forthcoming Shakespeare productions.  First, was Measure for Measure, one of my favourite plays.  Then I read this:

"Hayley Atwell and Jack Lowden alternate roles as the chaste Isabella and the corrupted Angelo in this experimental Shakespeare staging by departing artistic director Josie Rourke."

Departing, are you, darling, then let me hold the door open for you and please don't hurry back!

Next, I saw Twelfth Night was opening at The Young Vic directed by their new, er, 'artistic director', Mr. Kwame Kwei-Armah, which is described as:

" … a reimagined soul and R'n'B version of Shakespeare's cross-dressing tragicomedy, which brings in a community choir, and relocates the action to Notting Hill."

As this is the beginning of Mr. Kwei-Armah's reign I would strongly suggest you keep well clear of The Young Vic for a couple of years!

At this point, the shredded remains of my honesty which survived my days in the second-hand car trade, urge me to confess that I once directed a modern-dress production of Measure for Measure.  I cringe at the memory and can only mutter, "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa"!  The defence rests, m'Lud!