DUFF & NONSENSE!

Casualty list #4: Nicki Morgan

Alas, I cannot offer up any specific charges against this woman because she always strikes me as totally vague and utterly useless.  Also, and I realise this not her fault, she looks totally dim and vacuous and permanently startled:

I have wracked what passes for my memory but I cannot think of a single useful contribution she has made to our country.  The fact that she is retiring because so many of those nasty 'Peeps' have been rude to her on the internet tells you how utterly pathetic she is.  To misquote - sorry, Bill! - "Nothing so became her as her leaving"

 

Casualty list #3: Amber Rudd

Couldn't happen to a bigger double-crossing traitor who appears to change what passes for her mind and her loyalty with her underwear!

And apparently her brother who played a big role in the 'Remain' campaign has also suffered some heavy setbacks.  My cup over floweth!

 

 

The casualty list #2: John Bercow

The malignant monkey is finished!  Now it only requires our PM to deny the little squirt the honours he drools for and which, in his blind stupidity, he thinks he deserves.

In my lifetime I have observed a procession of mentally-retarded Parliamentary 'actors' but none of them ever descended to the depths of this jumped-up poltroon.  I can only hope and even pray that the House takes more care in selecting a replacement.  Well, a man may hope, may he not?

 

 

The casualty list #1: Ms. Anna Soubry

This is the beginning of a running list of joyful farewells to sundry ghastly and mostly useless MPs who are already 'walking dead' in the Halls of Westminster.

 

Or, as I think of her, Ms. Anna 'Sour Brie'!  Never no more will I have to put up with seeing her scowling face on my TV and her hectoring, bossy voice scratching at my ear drums!  I gather from Wiki that she has been married twice and is currently in a third relationship.  Where she finds these blind, deaf men I do not know!

 

 

Yet another reason to keep your 'kiddie-winkies' out of university

I provided you all with one example of University greed and moral corruption two posts below this.  Today, courtesy of 'Her Majesty's Daily Telegraph', I can offer you another reason to avoid these so-called 'centres of learning' - their utter stupidity!  Appropriately, this example concerns 'SoD's' alma mater, Bristol University.  Apparently they have hired, no doubt at considerable expense, a "slavery history professor" - yeeeeeeeeees, quite! - to investigate the links to slavery of the city of Bristol and Bristol University, itself.

Professor Judith Squires, Bristol University’s provost and deputy vice-Chancellor said: “As an institution founded in 1909, we are not a direct beneficiary of the slave trade, but we fully acknowledge that we financially benefited indirectly via philanthropic support from families who had made money from businesses involved in the transatlantic slave trade.

I can only wonder how that weak, dim, dumb lady actually managed to pass her 11+ exam let alone rise to the rank of Provost.  She may have a multitude of letters after her name attesting to her enormous learning but what a pity she lacks basic commonsense and the guts to stand by it!  Should you wonder why our once vigorous nation has crumpled into utter stupidity, look no further than the centre of higher (so-called) 'edukashun'!

 

 

Kanye West, er, well, what can one say . . .

You must forgive my hesitation and confusion but I have only just 'met' Mr. Kanye West, a black man who is, so I am informed by Wiki, "an American rapper, singer, songwriter, record producer, entrepreneur, and fashion designer".  You will understand my hesitation because of my almost total ignorance of all those occupations.  Mr. West is married to Ms. Kim Kardashian, again, not a lady I am familiar with although I understand she is exceptionally beautiful and very, er,  voluptuous.  They have been married for five years and have produced four children.

Already in that potted history you can begin to see some, er, well, eccentricities, shall we call them?  Two mega-rich members of the 'show business' fraternity, both black, both moving constantly in a star-blazed firmament never far from constant publicity and yet … and yet … he is a self-proclaimed and practicing Christian!  Mr. Andrew T. Walker informs us via the excellent offices of The National Review that:

[T]he news of the release of Kanye West’s newest album, Jesus Is King. It comes after months of news stories about West’s very public conversion to Christianity, a Christianity that bears no resemblance to the vague spiritualism of Moral Therapeutic Deism that is often associated with celebrity conversions.

The lyrics to each song in Jesus Is King are shockingly Christian. It is not an album of feel-good Christian spirituality aimed primarily as a message of uplift. West co-wrote and sang the hit “Jesus Walks” on his debut album The College Dropout (2004), but Jesus Is King is different. Throughout the whole of the new album, West is in many respects deeply critical of modernity and cultural progressivism. There are calls for a focus more on the family than on individual glory. He seems to applaud Chick-fil-A, which in our age is tantamount to endorsing bigotry. Social-media obsession should be exchanged for family prayer. Fatherhood is characterized as a virtue. Materialism is pilloried. Calls for worshiping Christ redound to such effect that West’s first Christian album is arguably more Christian than what most contemporary Christian artists could similarly muster.

Well, 'HOODATHUNKIT'? 

Obviously, Mr. West is a man capable of thinking for himself and thinking outside the glitzy box in which he spends so much of his life.  I wish him well along with his gorgeous wife and children.  He will be sorely tested but, hey, that's the fate of all true Christians.  In the meantime, I, too, can only pray that I get through the rest of my life without hearing his music because I fear I would not enjoy it!

 

 

A University finally learns a lesson!

Many years ago I was tremendously keen for 'SoD' (er, that's 'Son of Duff' if you are a new reader of this distinguished blog!) to go to a University to complete his 'edukashun'.  Part of my enthusiasm on his behalf was because his chosen subject was 'computerology', you know, all those whizzy-do-thingies that drive us all mad these days!  Had he intended to study a non-technological subject, like History or Literature, I doubt I would have been so enthusiastic.  To my non-University mind these former, er, 'Halls of Learning' have descended to the depths of pig-ignorance and corruption!

Nowhere is this better illustrated than in an article at The Coffee House featuring events at the Anglia Ruskin University (ARU) - and no, me neither!  Apparently it has several distinguished alumni including a certain, Junius Ho, currently a member of the Legislative Council of Hong Kong.

According to Luke de Pulford at The Coffee House:

The folk at ARU seemed to like Ho. In fact they liked him so much that they gave him an honorary doctorate in 2011. The fawning description of Ho on the ARU website says they are ‘proud to follow his continuing evolution.’

Indeed, they were so proud that they granted this mega-rich 'Hong-Konger' an Honoury Degree in 2011.  Alas and alack, since then, 'oh what a falling off was there!'  Here are some of Mr. Ho's pronouncements:

In 2017 Ho called for protestors to be ‘killed mercilessly’. It’s not a big deal to kill ‘pigs and dogs’ he reasoned. In July this year he circulated photos of Westerners at protests, and implied they were foreign intelligence agents. This month he said that fellow legislator Claudia Mo was ‘habitually eating foreign sausage’, referring to her English husband.

Ho issued what was widely perceived to be a death threat live on air to another legislator, Eddie Chu. He regularly calls protestors ‘cockroaches’. When the Legislative Council of Hong Kong was debating same sex marriage, Ho objected and argued that it could lead to permitting bestiality.

All very nasty but, of course, to the ARU management Mr. Ho was the means by which zillions of 'moolah' could be diverted from Chinese government sources into their coffers.  Thus it has taken a considerable time for them to pluck up such moral courage as they possess and revoke all connections to this detestable Chinese thug and his Peking puppet-masters!

 

 

 

Will she? Won't she?

An interesting - er, well, only if politics is your 'thang' - article by the indefatigable Mr. Thomas Lifson at The American Thinker in which he discusses the 'Will she? Won't she?' riddle of whether 'HillBilly' will launch a try for the Presidency.  At present she is playing coy, she won't say yes and she won't say no!  Given the paucity of talent amongst the crowd of not so much 'has beens' as more, the 'never wases' and the 'never will bes', she must be straining at the leash, after all, dammit, she is entitled to the job!  According to Mr. Lifson, she is simply waiting for 'good ol' Joe' to admit that he's past it and and that, really 'n' truly he'd prefer his old rocking chair!

As y'all do know, I make no pretence of understanding American politics but the current crop of no-hopers, nut-cases, juveniles and infants lining up to, er, tempt the American public is the worst, most ignorant and useless collection of political ignoramuses that I can recall.  True, Donald Trump isn't exactly 'Brain of America' but at least he is ultra-patriotic in that "Make America Great Again!" way of his and my gut feeling is that most Americans are also intensely patriotic.  'HillBilly', of course, comes with a train-load of faults and weaknesses and errors of judgment, some of them perilously close to propelling her into a Federal court.  And hanging over her disreputable head is the memory of her infamous words after four American diplomats were murdered on her watch, "At this point what does it matter?"

If there is any justice 'over there', those words should eventually be carved onto her grave stone!

 

Calm down, Mr. President, there's plenty more where Baghdadi came from!

No-one who isn't a member of ISIS would begrudge 'The Donald' his moment of triumph even if it was earned on the backs of some exceedingly brave and skilful soldiers.  However, too much triumphalism, too early, could bite back because there are probably a score of 'Nasty Hairies' already plotting their way to replace the late Mr. Baghdadi and a chance to 'earn' their own reputations - and their revenge!  Even so, this is the very best way to fight this particular campaign.  No need for Divisions of troops spread across a hostile land and providing endless targets for the 'Hairies' to aim at.  Instead, use the very best intelligence-gathering devices and specialist troops to seek out the individual targets - and then make it deadly and personal!

Well done, Mr. President!  I'm not sure how much input you had in this tricky operation but if it had gone 'tits up' you would certainly have been in receipt of several tons of brown stuff!  So, enjoy your moment of triumph - but don't over-do it.  Your enemies in the Democrat party and the 'meeja' will be quietly sharpening their knives and waiting their chance- a bit like the 'Hairies', really!

 

 

Your Monday Funnies: 28.10.19

A vintage collection and all in the worst possible taste!

I got invited to a party and was told to dress to kill. Apparently a turban, beard and a backpack wasn't what they had in mind.

After a night of drink, drugs and wild sex, Jim woke up to find himself next to a really ugly woman.  That's when he realized he had made it home safely. 

Seven wheelchair athletes have been banned from the Paralympics after they tested positive for WD40.

ITS A BOY" I shouted "A BOY, I DON'T BELIEVE IT, ITS A BOY". And with tears streaming down my face I swore I'd never visit another Thai Brothel!

In the first few days of the Olympics the Romanians took gold, silver, bronze, copper & lead. 

Sailing results are in, GB took gold, USA took silver and Somalia took a Middle aged couple from Weymouth


A boy asks his granny, 'Have you seen my pills, they were labeled LSD?' Granny replies, f**k the pills, have you seen the dragons in the kitchen?

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A golfer was involved in a terrible car crash and was rushed to the
hospital. Just before he was put under, the surgeon popped in to see him.

"I have some good news and some bad news," says the surgeon. "The bad news is that I have to remove your right arm!"

"Oh God no!" cries the man "My golfing is over!

Please Doc, what's the good news?"

"The good news is, I have another one to replace it with, but it's a
woman's arm and I'll need your permission before I go ahead with the
transplant."

"Go for it doc," says the man, "as long as I can play golf again."

The operation went well and a year later the man was out on the golf course when he bumped into the surgeon.

"Hi, how's the new arm?" asks the surgeon. "Just great," says the
businessman. "I'm playing the best golf of my life. My new arm has a much finer touch and my putting has really improved."

"That's great," said the surgeon.

"Not only that," continued the golfer, "my handwriting has improved, I've learned how to sew my own clothes and I've even taken up painting landscapes in watercolors."

"That's unbelievable!" said the surgeon, "I'm so glad to hear the
transplant was such a great success. Are you having any side effects?"

"Well, just two, said the golfer, "I have trouble parallel parking and every time I get an erection, I get a headache."

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An elderly man, looking about 100 years old, and on a Moped, pulls up next to a doctor at a street light.

The old man looks over at the sleek shiny car and asks, 'What kind of car ya got there, sonny?'

The doctor replies, 'A Ferrari GTO. It cost half a million dollars'

'That's a lot of money,' says the old man. 'Why does it cost so much?

'Because this car can do up to 320 kilometres an hour!' states the
doctor proudly.

The Moped driver asks, 'Mind if I take a look inside?'

'No problem,' replies the doctor.

So the old man pokes his head in the window and looks around. Then, sitting back on his Moped, the old man says, 'That's a pretty nice car, all right.. But I'll stick with my Moped!'

Just then the light changes, so the doctor decides to show the old man just what his car can do. He floors it, and within 30 seconds the speedometer reads 160 kph.  Suddenly, he notices a dot in his rear view mirror. It seems to be getting closer. He slows down to see what it could be and suddenly WHOOOOSSSHHH something whips by him going much faster!

'What on earth could be going faster than my Ferrari?' the doctor asks himself.  He presses harder on the accelerator and takes the Ferrari up to 250 kph.

Then, up ahead of him, he sees that it's the old man on the Moped! Amazed that the Moped could pass his Ferrari, he gives it more gas and passes the Moped at 275 kph. He's feeling pretty good until he looks in his mirror and sees the old man gaining on him AGAIN! Astounded by the speed of this old guy, he floors the gas pedal and takes the Ferrari all the way up to 320 kph. Not ten seconds later, he sees the Moped bearing down on him again!
The Ferrari is flat out, and there's nothing he can do!

Suddenly, the Moped ploughs into the back of his Ferrari, demolishing the rear end. The doctor stops and jumps out and, unbelievably, the old man is still alive.

He runs up to the banged-up old guy and says, 'I'm a doctor.... Is there anything I can do for you?'

The old man whispers, 'Unhook my f***ing braces from your side mirror'!

 

That's your lot - have a nice day!

 

Janet Daley, as usual, says it for me - and infinitely more intelligently

Sorry again for my 'hissy-fit' but don't these computer-thingies drive you mad when they go wrong?  It's alright for those 'whizzy-do' experts, like 'SoD', who actually understand how they work but for 80-year old grumps like me they remain the usual mix of riddle, mystery and enigma.  Anyway, I have watched an episode of "Morse" and have now calmed down.

On return, I read today's column by Janet Daley in The Telegraph which is laser-like in its accuracy.  

"It is generally the case that when the state of the country demands a general election it is because we need a new government. This time it is because we need a new opposition."

Absolutely spot on although I would strongly suggest that in addition the Government ranks could do with a clean out.  What a squalid bunch of treacherous double-dealers many of them are!  As for Her Majesty's (dis)Loyal Opposition, I don't think I have ever seen such a hopeless, hapless collection of utter deadbeats!

How can it be that while all the opposition parties excoriate the sitting prime minister (even after he has succeeded in the most monumental and supposedly impossible task set before him, the result of which they have approved) they are unanimously opposed to permitting him to be removed from office, at least without impossible conditions? Or, to put it more simply, they are united in their refusal to give the electorate any role in their private game.

Note to all opposition politicians: nobody in the real world now believes (if, indeed they ever did) your excuses about fearing a “no deal” exit, or needing more time to scrutinise a Withdrawal Agreement most of which has already been, in its earlier incarnation, scrutinised to exhaustion. As this column has observed before, the people are not fooled.

No, we definitely are not!  This lot are clinging to their Parliamentary places because they know 'The Peeps' are poised with an electoral axe which will see the end of their perks and privileges.  They really are the dregs:

But the need to replace the opposition is not just because of the insoluble Brexit stalemate. We have reached a historic milestone of a different order. I cannot recall a time – in nearly half a century of observing British politics – when the quality, professionalism and intellectual performance of opposition MPs has been as grotesquely inadequate as it is now. [My emphasis]

Just think Jeremy Corbyn, Ian Blackford, Jo Swinson and … well the list goes on.  Oliver Cromwell put it better than anyone:

"You have sat too long here for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!"

HEAR, HEAR!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 27.10.19

CANCELLED - Sorry, sorry, sorry but I tried to copy and paste something and it completely buggered up my screen and now I am in such a 'grump mood' that I can't be bothered to scribble anything more!

See you tomorrow!

 

Australia! Make this man your Prime Minister!

I refer, of course, to Mr. Craig Kelly (and no, hitherto, me neither!) who is a Member of your House of Representatives.  This exceedingly diligent and sharp-eyed fella' has just caught out your tax-payer funded 'Greenie collective', aka: Bureau of Meteorology in outright lies.  According to the ever diligent Mr. Thomas Lifson at The American Thinker this 'collective of lying liars' have been

. . . altering graphs showing the number of very hot days so as to obscure the fact that 1952 had more of them than recent years and adding a newly "discovered" hot day to a more recent year to make it appear that they are increasing.

 

 

But, hey, with a few adroit clicks on their 'lying-liar, do-flicker-thingie', they changed the story to fit their own agit-prop:

 

 

I would suggest to my Aussie friends that they now raise the temperature at their 'Bureau of Make-it-up-as-you-go Meteorology' by burning it to the ground!

NOTE:  Don't worry, your usual Sunday Rumble will follow when I have had some 'brekkers' and sorted out all these bloody clocks which seem to have gone wrong overnight! 

 

 

 

Oh no, say it ain't so!

Just picked up a worrying report - from America, 'natch'! - that the Barclay family are considering selling 'Her Majesty's Daily Telegraph'!  Happily, The Spectator is not included in the mooted deal.  Also, even more happily, none of the 'Usual Suspects' from the Left-wing, loony fringe have enough money to run their own failing newspapers let alone buy up another one so the chances of 'The Graun' buying it up are miniscule.  Apparently, The Mail might be up for it and at least they are well to the Right under the splendid leadership of Lord Rothermere - so far!  Perhaps, and this could be even worse news, some Russian crook oligarch with a Swiss bank full of stolen 'dosh' might fancy his chances!  Life may not be the same!

 

 

As always that damned Charles Moore says it before me!

Like persistent indigestion, my increasing irritation with that 'Mr. Nice Guy' icon of global warming-'wankering', David Attenborough, simply will not go away.  In fact, it mounts higher and higher as his, er, 'saintly', white-haired mug appears constantly in the 'meeja'.  I was just waiting for him to issue yet another 'Pte. Frazer' style warning to the effect that "We're all doomed, I tell ye, doomed" and that would have 'set me off on one' but in steps Mr. Moore and does the job for me - well, I have been a subscriber to The Spectator for decades so he owes me one!

In a post at The Coffee House entitled "Why I'm fed up with David Attenborough", he says:

There is now a small but growing number of people, myself included, who are fed up with [him]. His early days were wonderful — he was an adventurous zoological and ethnographic broadcaster and then a great controller (the first) of BBC2. But in recent times his role as a National — even Global — Treasure has gone to his head.

Mr. Moore suggests that instead of the constant bad-mouthing of humanity there should be far more extolling of the wonders we have created:

Today’s equivalent would show us the wonders of scientific discovery, industrial development, engineering, computing, AI, markets, trade, supply chains, medicine, transport, media, languages, nature conservation — the millions of things that human beings, and only human beings, can do for the planet they inhabit.  [My emphasis]

Damned right - and I'm fed up with being nagged!

 

 

Will American civil war help us through the coming long Winter evenings

There is now absolutely no doubt that Donald Trump is, er, well, Donald Trump!  Sorry, sorry for not being more specific but really, when you think on't, the words 'Donald Trump' do not merely signify a particular man but a 'yuuuuuuge' conglomeration of characteristics, many, or even most, of which contradict each other.  He is, I suspect, not a man much in touch with himself, let alone reality.  Rather, what he 'sees' as himself is simply a galaxy of constantly changing images which are 'clicked up' to suit any given situation.

Now, due entirely to his own error of judgment, he finds himself toe to toe with another bumptious know-it-all who, alas, appears not to know very much.  I refer to 'Bristly' Bolton, 'el presidente's' former National Security Advisor.  To be honest, I cannot recall exactly how long 'Bristly' held the job but blink and you'd miss him!  Both men 'knew' each other, or at least, like everyone else with an interest in world affairs, they must have known, or at least guessed, each other's characteristics.  A failure on either man's part to do this indicates that neither is suitable for their roles at the highest level of their nation's affairs.

If the 'romance' between them was disastrous, then the 'divorce' was, is and will be, catastrophic.  'Bristly' Bolton is determined on revenge and has now thrown in his lot with the Democratic 'Witchfinder Generals' and my guess is that he will have several tons of offal to tip on 'el Presidente's' head to assist in his intended impeachment.  What else can one say of President Donald Trump other than 'sucker!'

 

 

 

You think Brexit is complicated? Try impeachment!

So, in, er, "the Land of the Free" the dreaded 'Peeps' voted in a Republican eccentric rather than a Democratic crook.  So far, so normal!  However, the losers, not content to heal their wounds and build their strength in order to fight a better contest with a better candidate (not too difficult given the nature of the last one!), they have wasted 'yuuuuuuuge' amounts of time and energy and such miniscule amounts of intelligence that they possess, in trying every damn trick in the book to undo an election, including, SECRET hearings to plot the impeachment of the sitting President despite the fact that he is due to face the 'Peeps' again in a year!

Secret hearings - how very, er, Russian!  Yesterday, the cabal was invaded by Republican Congressmen determined to find out what the Democrats were plotting.  Who can blame them, after all this is supposed to be the home of democracy where leaders are changed by due process.  I am not too sure about the common-sense, let alone the intellectual ability, of President Trump but it seems to me that the Democratic party has fallen to a clique of screechy, stupid 'wimmin', er, some of whom are men! We can go bonkers 'over here' because it doesn't actually matter all that much but you are the leader of the free world!

Get a grip, America!  

 

 

"Per ardua ad astra"

The motto of the Royal Air Force seemed the only proper heading to this post which follows my attendance this evening at a talk given by Sir Max Hastings, author of "Chastise", the title of his just published history of the Dambusters' raid in 1943.  Needless to say it was a polished 'performance' from a man who had obviously studied the subject in detail.  Like most wartime operations it was a mix of 'rights' and 'wrongs', successes and failures, and the inevitable outcome was a huge loss of life - but, hell, that's war!

First and foremost was the sheer skill and courage of the airman concerned who, in effect, had to fly their massive bombers almost as though they were fighters.  Imagine, flying your aircraft, at night, straight and true and at a steady speed at a mere 60' above the ground against AA defences mounted round the targeted dams.  Then there was the inventive brilliance of Barnes Wallis, the engineer/scientist who invented the 'bouncing bomb' which was required to ensure the explosion, when it occurred, was hard up against the structure of the dam.

Most British people know the story, not least courtesy of the famous film "The Dam Busters".  As Sir Max made clear in his talk, the operation and the characters who took part in it were multi-layered.  Needless to say, one man's reputation was not exactly enhanced by the story - Sir Arthur 'Bomber' Harris who should, perhaps, have been used as a 'bouncing bomb' himself!  Sir Max made light of his problem in trying not to overly repeat the name of Guy Gibson's pet, black dog - "Nigger"!  It gives me no problems because at exactly that same time, the family I was evacuated to had a pet, black dog called "Nigger".  Also, on a personal note, I hadn't realised that the raid took place on my 4th birthday!

Anyway, I have bought a signed copy of the book which I will try and read without damaging it so that I can give it to 'SoD' at Christmas - or throw it at him if he irritates me!

 

 

 

Sorry to make you vomit your breakfast

Hillary Clinton (AP Photo/Charles Krupa)

Yes, I suppose that photo should have been accompanied by a 'Health Hazard' warning but, 'Man up, people', slowly but inexorably the noose is tightening around the plump neck of that disgusting woman.  Mostly this is due to the excellent 'Judicial Watch' organisation which is relentless in pursuit of her and her gross dereliction of duty in using a totally insecure and private e-mail system to conduct the business of the United States.  By the slow but steady application of judicial pressure on the State Department, whose employees, you will remember, crowded outside their offices to cheer her into office, the so far hidden documents are being dragged into daylight.

You may be tempted to repeat her infamous phrase in connection to the slaughter of four diplomats under her care and protection, "What difference at this point does it make?"  You may, indeed, be prepared to repeat the (in)famous phrase beloved of the London police, "Nothing to see here, move along!" but I hope, and get as near to praying as an old agnostic like me can, that eventually that ghastly woman is charged with serious dereliction of duty.

 

 

Tricky and messy, this democratic lark

And so Parliament enters round 3, 6, 9, or is it 19?, of the never-ending Brexit war which appears destined to run and run.  But, hey, that's democracy!  We go on for decades with the usual 'boring-snoring', tit-for-tat of party politics which most people ignore until they attempt to shake off their lethargy and vote in a general election which they know in their hearts will not change anything very much.

But Brexit is different!

Not only do most people have a view on it, their views are likely to be very strong.  As a subject it refuses to be bound by the old party politics, hence the shambles to which Parliament has descended.  There is, of course, only one solution, not another referendum which will simply add fuel to the fire but a general election in which the feet of the candidates from any and all parties can be held to the fire.

Do not despair, my fellow Brits, what you have seen recently is democracy in action.  No governmental decrees backed up by threats of prison or firing squads, a la Russia or China, but messy, mixed-up, sometimes malodorous, democracy where at least our dodgy politicians have been forced to show their true nature.  Not very admirable in many cases but an election will allow us to reward the decent and dump manure on the malefactors.  Not, of course, that our individual views en masse are likely to be imbued with wisdom but at least it will be our choice - and thus our responsibility.

In the meantime, be glad the Gauleiters and Commissars are not let loose!

 

 

 

Your (delayed) Monday Funnies: 21.10.19

Yes, sorry for the delay.  I had not one but two jabs today from 'Nurse Ratched' but despite me not crying she still wouldn't give me a sweetie!  Anyway, standby for incoming funnies!

The American Medical Association has weighed in on Trump's proposed health care package to replace Obama-care:

The Allergists were in favour of scratching it, but the Dermatologists advised not to make any rash moves.

The Gastroenterologists had sort of a gut feeling about it, but the
Neurologists thought the Administration had a lot of nerve.

Meanwhile, Obstetricians felt certain everyone was labouring under a misconception, while the Ophthalmologists considered the idea short-sighted.

Pathologists yelled, "Over my dead body!" while the Paediatricians said, "Oh, grow up!"

The Psychiatrists thought the whole idea was madness, while the
Radiologists could see right through it.

Surgeons decided to wash their hands of the whole thing and the Internists claimed it would indeed be a bitter pill to swallow.

The Plastic Surgeons opined that this proposal would "put a whole new face on the matter."

The Pediatrists thought it was a step forward, but the Urologists were pissed off at the whole idea.

Anesthesiologists thought the whole idea was a gas, and those lofty
Cardiologists didn't have the heart to say no.

In the end, the Proctologists won out, leaving the entire decision up to the assholes in Washington.

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

HELGA'S CRUISE SHIP DIARY........

DEAR DIARY - DAY 1

All packed for the cruise ship -- all my nicest
dresses, swimsuits, shortsets. Really, really exciting. Our local Ladies Bowls Club ˜The Late Bloomers” decided on this "all-girls" trip. It will be my first one - and I can't wait!

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DEAR DIARY - DAY 2
Entire day at sea, so beautiful. Saw whales and dolphins. Met the Captain today -- seems like a very nice man.

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DEAR DIARY - DAY 3
At the pool today. Did some shuffleboard, hit golf balls off the deck. The Captain invited me to join him at his table for dinner. Felt honoured and had a wonderful time. He is very attractive and attentive.

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DEAR DIARY - DAY 4
Won £800 in the ship's Casino. The Captain asked me to have dinner with him in his own cabin. Had a scrumptious meal complete with caviar and champagne. He asked me to stay the night, but I declined. Told him I could not be unfaithful to my husband.

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DEAR DIARY - DAY 5
Pool again today. Got really sunburned, and I went inside for a drink at the piano-bar and to cool down; stayed there for rest of day. The Captain saw me, bought me several large drinks. Really is quite charming. Again asked me to visit his cabin for the night. Again, I declined. He told me,if I did not let him have his way with me, he would sink the ship... I was shocked.

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DEAR DIARY - DAY 6

Today I saved 2600 lives.

Twice ........

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Medicare Help-Desk Recommendation:

The phone rings and the lady of the house answers, "Hello."
"Mrs. Sanders, please."

"Speaking."

"Mrs. Sanders, this is Doctor Jones at Saint Agnes Laboratory. When your husband's doctor sent his biopsy to the lab last week, a biopsy from another Mr. Sanders arrived as well.. We are now uncertain which one belongs to your husband. Frankly, either way the results are not too good."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Sanders asks nervously.

"Well, one of the specimens tested positive for Alzheimer's and the other tested positive for HIV. We can't tell which is which."

"That's dreadful ! Can you do the test again ?" questioned Mrs. Sanders.

"Normally we can, but MEDICARE will only pay for these expensive tests once."

"Well, what am I supposed to do now ?"

"The MEDICARE Help-desk recommends that you drop your husband off somewhere in the middle of town. If he finds his way home, don't sleep with him.

 

There we are, late but excellent, I think you will all agree!

 

 

'Rock Ape' humour!

This is just a 'taster' before my usual Monday Funnies.  It comes from an obit for the late Capt. Dereck Oakley, RM, who led the Marine landing at Suez in 1956.  It grieves me to quote 'Rock Apes' but I must admit they do have a sense of humour, and Capt. Oakley sounds like an interesting man:

In the second phase of the landing, during a dash south through the town to secure the Nile cold storage depot and the Port Said power station on the southern outskirts, Oakley was at the front of a flying column of tanks and LVTs.

As Oakley’s LVT advanced the driver (who sat below him) tugged the bottom of his trousers and asked “Sir! Do they drive on the right or left in this country?”. Not satisfied with the response to this joke, a few moments later the man gave Oakley another tug. “What’s wrong now?” Oakley cried over the roar of the engine. The voice from below shouted back “Look, sir, the traffic lights are at red. Do we stop?”

Back soon, must dash to the Quacks for an injection - no, no, not for that sort of thing - behave!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 20.10.19

Yes, you're right, I have been a tad lackadaisical on this, er, distinguished blog since I snuck off for a three-day break.  It's a funny thing, this writing lark, you really do have to be in the mood for it.  Anyway, after a good night's sleep, my first for a while, I am firing on all of my 2.5 cylinders!

Who is Ms. Tulsi Gabbard?   And why do I want her to have my babies?  Well, I'm not too sure about that but anyone who can describe 'HillBilly' as "the queen of warmongers, embodiment of corruption, and personification of the rot that has sickened the Democratic Party for so long" certainly deserves consideration as a bearer of my precious hereditary 'jewels'!  Also, as a female member of the American army, the first Samoan to stand for high political office and as a practicing Hindu she is certainly worth watching.  Alas, she seems imbued with all the usual Left-wing twaddle but even so she may be worth watching.

 

This gives me a warm feeling:   I might even give myself a self-congratulatory hug!  According to the Charity Aid Foundation - no, me neither! - who have conducted a survey of every nation in the world in order to find out which is the most charitable in its giving, the UK came in second!  I point this out to remind y'all that contributions to DPCBF will be gratefuly received.  (Er, that's Duff's Poor Children's Beer Fund, of course!)

 

Dear Meghan, six weeks isn't long enough:   Apparently, poor little Meghan is in desperate need of a six week holiday after the stresses and strains of jetting hither an thither to various places ranging from American high society spots to South Africa.  I can only suggest, your Royal Highness, that you make it six months, nay, better still, take the next six years off and give us all a break.  At my age I will probably be dead by the time you return to constantly clutter up the front pages where you are rapidly becoming even more boring than Brexit!

 

Hey! You 'Noo Yawkers', get down to the Morgan Library!   According to the National Review, an exhibition of John Singer Sargent's later charcoal drawings has just opened.  Absolutely and definitely worth a look.  The man was a truly brilliant artist.  Who could ever forget, "Madame X":

 

That Max Hastings better be on his game!    Next Wednesday, as part of the internationally acclaimed Sherborne Literary Festival - waddya mean, ya never heard of it? - Mr. Hastings is giving a talk on his latest book covering the (in)famous Dam-busters raid in 1943.  Actually, he has nothing to fear from me because I have been an admirer of it since I first read about it as a nipper.  However, that did not stop mounting suspicions in my mind that perhaps it was not quite the triumph it was proclaimed to be.  Anyway, I am looking forward to it immensely and, of course, I will report in here for a debriefing!

 

'I'm black 'n' fat cos you is white 'n' ginger'!   Thus sayeth, sort of, Professor Britney Cooper who "sports a PhD from Emory University and who currently is an associate professor in the Department of Women’s and Gender Studies at Rutgers University".

In her own inimitable words which, I suppose, indicate the er, value of a PhD from Emory University, she says:

"I hate when people talk about black women being obese.  I hate it because it becomes a way to blame us for a set of conditions that we didn't create."

Do you get that, 'Whitey'?  Those grossly fat, black ladies are not that way because of the extra doughnuts they stuff down their throats at every coffee break but because of your racism in general and your 'gingerism' in the last three years!

 

Let's hear it for good old Albert!   There is an excellent review of A. N. Wilson's new biography of Prince Albert in this week's Spectator.  Poor, old Albert must qualify as one of the most under-rated men in recent British history.  Alas, poor fellow, he never won any great battles and all of his many great achievements were in the field of civic advancement, you know, 'boring-snoring'!  If I didn't have so many other books waiting for my attention I would snap it up immediately.

 

No more rumbles 

 

 

In which the 'Hefferlump' makes my point for me

Simon Heffer has an interesting review of a book in today's Telegraph.  Alas, I am unable to link to it.  In it, he reviews a recent book by Brendan Simms titled "Hitler: Only the World Was Enough".  Yes, I know, who the hell in his right mind, or even in his Right mind, would wish to read anything more concerning that foam-flecked maniac?  Even so, I was attracted to it on being informed by the 'Hefferlump' that one of Mr. Simms' main points in his biography was to emphasise the fact that whilst Hitler was many things, the fact is that above and beyond all else he was a socialist!

The Left, particularly the pig-ignorant dimwits who constitute the current Left-wing audience, always try to paint Hitler in his Nationalist colours and quietly ignore the fact that he was also a socialist and that part of what drove him on to extremes was his hatred - and fear! - of Anglo-American capitalism.

In academia's insane and self-destructive search for offence, Simms's well-supported claim that Hitler was concerned to challenge Anglo-Saxon capitalism, and determined to raise living standards in Germany to those in the United States has caused one  reviewer to liken Simms to the sort of person who calls Hitler "a socialist" in order to discredit Bernie Sanders.  It is ridiculous to equate contemporary socialists with Hitler and Simms does not even begin to do so.  But as Simms points out, socialism was one of the ideologies Hitler embraced, and it does not make Simms 'alt-right' to say so.

In my not very humble opinion, there are more than just a few leading socialists figures today who would feel right at home in the latter-day equivalent of the Berghof!

 

 

Harold Bloom, 1930-2019, R.I.P.

I am always somewhat careful when approaching someone who is generally described as 'a colossal character' but that is the inescapable summary of Harold Bloom who died a few days ago.  He dominated the stage, or perhaps that should be, 'the boxing ring', of English and American literature for decades.  Never short of an opinion and never short of the energy and ultra-detailed knowledge required to back up his assertions.

Bloom: consumed books "at a rate of 1,000 pages an hour" Credit: TED THAI /TIMEPIX/REX

Alas, I am totally unqualified to take a view on his opinions on literature apart from remarking that the various modernist scribblers who succumbed to mouth-dribbling fury when he dismissed them, in effect, as talentless phonies provided me with endless giggles when I read about them.

However, one thing is certain, the late, great Mr. Bloom will remain on a plinth with certain other Shakespearean scholars for his magnificent book: "Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human".  I had a copy - somewhere - at sometime - but now I cannot find it!  I tried to order a copy for my Kindle but - dammit - the morons do not list it!  Anyway, thank you, Mr. Bloom, I doubt I could have played Falstaff to any standard without your superb book.

 

 

"It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings!"

As on so many occasions I am grateful to 'the cousins' and their endless supply of succinct aphorisms, one of which I have used in my heading to summarise the current state of Brexit.  Thought it was all over did you?  Sucker!  Now it begins because whilst our mostly useless civil service will happily return to sharpening their quill pens, 'just over there' the 'Eurapparatchiks' will be pouring over the thousand and one paragraphs and sub-paragraphs such that our so-called Brexit agreement will be rendered useless.  That is why 'No Deal' was always to be preferred to any deal that allowed them to cling, limpid-like, to the zillion and one words of any sort of deal.

I haven't yet had the time to assess all the different summaries of this so-called 'deal' but I hope and trust - Yeah, I know - sucker! - that henceforth the Laws of England will reign supreme 'in this, our septic Isle'.  That was, is and will forever be, the absolute essential in any deal - which is precisely why I preferred 'no deal'!  Anyway, y'all have the rest of today to stock up with beer and crisps so that you can enjoy the sport on Saturday.  No, no, not that ghastly rugby game over which the troglodytes are getting so excited, I mean the clown show in Parliament led by that prize dwarf, John Berkow - and my misspelling was deliberate!

 

 

And lo, I am returned!

Yes, and to the infinite relief of all my loyal readers who suffer with difficulties in sleeping, I am back and even more eye-stabbingly tedious than usual!  The Memsahib and I enjoyed a very comfy three day stay in an excellent hotel, The Belmont, where the average age of the residents was roughly 83, although there were a few tearaway yobs in their 70s who occasionally 'went off on one'!  Six old friends, in every sense of the word, drove down to share lunch with us on the Tuesday.  On the Monday night I treated myself to the first dry martini I have had in 'yonks', although I had to give the young barman a lesson in how to prepare it - for which I am sure he was very grateful!  All in all, a lazy three day break in arguably the most pleasant town in the Kingdom.  Number of tattoos spotted - NIL!  Need I say more?

Anyway, back with you soon because according to the jungle drums Boris has cut a deal with the Euro-crooks - that can only presage trouble!

 

 

Your Monday Funnies: 14.10.19

'O ye of little faith'!  Surely you did not think that I would leave all you wage slaves without a joke to get you through another week at the coal face whilst I swan off to the seaside for three days!

Women often receive warnings about protecting themselves at the mall and in dark parking lots, etc. This is the first warning I have seen for men. I wanted to pass it on in case you haven't heard about it. A 'heads up' for those men who may be regular customers at Lowe's, Home Depot, Costco, or even Bunnings. This one caught me totally by surprise. Over the last month I became a victim of a clever scam while out shopping. Simply going out to get supplies has turned out to be quite traumatic. Don't be naive enough to think it couldn't happen to you or your friends.

Here's how the scam works; Two very beautiful, college-age girls will come over to your car or truck as you are packing your purchases into your vehicle. They both start wiping your windshield with a rag and Windex, with their breasts almost falling out of their skimpy T-shirts. (It's impossible not to look). When you thank them and offer them a tip, they say 'No' but instead ask for a ride to McDonald's.

You agree and they climb into the vehicle. On the way, they start undressing. Then one of them starts crawling all over you, while the other one steals your wallet.

I had my wallet stolen November 4th, 9th, 10th, twice on the 15th, again on the 17th, 20th, 24th, and the 29th. Also December 1st, 2nd, 8th, twice on the 16th &17th, and very likely again this upcoming weekend.  So tell your friends to be careful. What a horrible way to take advantage of us older men. Warn your friends to be vigilant.

Wal-Mart has wallets on sale for $2.99 each. I found even cheaper ones for $.99 at the Dollar Store and bought them out in three of their stores.

Also, you never get to eat at McDonald's. I've already lost 11 pounds just running back and forth from Lowe's, to Home Depot, to Bunnings.

So please, send this on to all the older men that you know and warn them to be on the lookout for this scam. (The best times are just before lunch and around 4:30 in the afternoon.)
…Please Be Careful

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It was Christmas Eve. A woman came home to her husband after a day of busy shopping. Later on that night when she was getting undressed for bed, he noticed a mark on the inside of her leg. "What is that?" he asked. She said, "I visited the tattoo parlor today. On the inside of one leg I had them tattoo 'Merry Christmas,' and on the inside of the other one they tattooed 'Happy New Year.'" Perplexed, he asked, "Why did you do that?" "Well," she replied, "now you can't complain that there's never anything to eat between Christmas and New Year!"

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A man was just waking up from anaesthesia after surgery, and his wife was sitting by his side. His eyes fluttered open and he said, “You are beautiful." Then he fell asleep again.

His wife had never heard him say that, so she stayed by his side. A few minutes later, his eyes fluttered open and he said, “You are cute!"

The wife was disappointed because instead of “beautiful," it was now “cute." She said, “What happened to ‘beautiful’?" Her husband replied, “The drugs are wearing off!"

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

 

After a long night of passion, the young guy rolled over, pulled out a cigarette from his jeans and searched for his lighter. Unable to find it, he asked the girl if she had one at hand.

"There might be some matches in the top drawer," she replied.

He opened the drawer of the bedside table and found a box of matches sitting neatly on top of a framed picture of another man. Naturally, the guy began to worry.

"Is this your husband?" he inquired nervously.

"No, silly," she replied, snuggling up to him.

"Your boyfriend then?" he asked.

"No, not at all," she said, nibbling away at his ear.

"Well, who is he then?" demanded the bewildered guy.

Calmly, Sally replied, "That's me before the operation."

 

That's it - God! I'm good to you!

 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 13.10.19

"The horror, oh, the horror"

Image by The Earl of Taint

Another corker from The American Thinker site.  You will recall that 'Fauxcahontas' contributed to "The Pow Wow" cookery book but, alas, to no one's surprise, her recipes were nicked from some French cook-book!

 

'Très bien', "Spiral" is back!   Alors, mes amis, I was doing celebratory somersaults last night because, totally unexpectedly, I saw that the French 'policier' series, "Spiral" was back on BBC4.  Most of the 'old gang' were there including my darling, darling, Audrey Fleurot playing the part of Joséphine Karlsson.  I really must try to improve my written French because, merde alors, she has failed to respond to my numerous letters!

 

A Brexit deal?   "You're 'avin' a laugh!"  There will be NO Brexit deal!  The reason is 'simples', the European 'apparatchiks' do not want a deal, they have never wanted a deal, all they want is total surrender and a victory parade down Whitehall.  If Boris is dumb enough to surrender then he will take the prize as the shortest term Prime Minister in our history! 

 

That Max Hasting better be on his toes!   The week after next he is giving a talk to the Sherborne Literary Society and that expert on any and all matters military will be present - er, that's me, actually, ex-Cpl. Duff!  Bet he's shaking in his boots!

 

Bucket & Spade time - again!  Yes, you will all be delighted to know that on Monday this distinguished blog is going on its holidays! No, no, I'm not jetting off to the south  of France, just chugging gently down to south Devon where the Memsahib and I will enjoy three nights in a very nice hotel on the seafront.

 

Exciting, it is not!  But, what the hell, who needs excitement at our age?  Just give me hot 'n' cold running housemaids and a decent chef!  Should be back on Thursday.

 

"The Quintet of the Hot Club of France":   I just came across that title of, arguably, one of the very greatest jazz combos of all time.  Started by that jazz genius, Django Reinhardt, and later given la crème de la crème when they were joined by the incomparable Stéphane Grappelli, they constituted 'jazz genius' of the very highest order.  I am grateful to 'Commentary' magazine for giving me a kick in the 'memory bank' and I will now start to search for my precious CDs.

 

No more rumbles

 

 

Here's an interestin' fella'

I refer to the Cambridge historian, Robert Tombs, whose speciality is the history of France.  He has an interesting article in The Telegraph which is headed "Misguided Remainers do not understand European history".  Yes, I do realise that is a statement of 'the bleedin' obvious' but his knowledgable analysis is worth reading:

Romantic Europhiles like to hark back to ancient Greece and adopt a quasi-nationalist view that Europa has some deep and continuing cultural identity of which the modern European Union is somehow an embodiment and Europe’s destiny. A glib answer would be that if such identity were real, the EU would not be experiencing so many conflicts. The truth is that Europe is very diverse. Its only historical claim to unity is as Christendom, but even that unity did not last beyond the 11th century. In its languages, cultures and mores it is hardly more a unity than Africa or Asia, and far less so than South America.

So is it, perhaps, that inherent disunity that is the driver behind the 'United States of Europe'?  Not quite, says the Professor:

Should one then turn the argument on its head? Is it precisely because Europe is so divided that it needs the EU? Without it, one often hears, we would go back to the 1930s or to 1914. But so remote from any imaginable reality is war between European democracies that justifying the EU as the force keeping them from each other’s throats is absurd. Even more extraordinary is the idea, espoused by Tony Blair among others, that if we withdraw from ‘Europe’, we might have to go back as in 1914 to stop future mayhem.

Or is it, perhaps, that the EU protects all those 'lickle' European countries from Big Global Bully Boys?  According to the 'Prof', not so:

Mr Guy Verhofstadt declared to cheering Lib Dems that “The world of tomorrow is a world of empires” in which the EU would replace the nation-states. How often we have heard this since Joseph Chamberlain first announced in 1904 that “The day of empires has come”. Leaving aside the question of whether the lumbering EU is remotely capable of bestriding the globe, we should ask ourselves where Chamberlain’s great empires are now.

Good question, and the 'Prof' answers it thus:

One with Nineveh and Tyre is the answer – though interestingly, some of the leading imperialists of Chamberlain’s day became early champions of European federalism. The huge states are all and always in trouble, struggling to hold themselves together and defend their borders. Small, nimble, united and democratic states are more resilient and successful. Where would you put your life savings? Brazil or Switzerland? China or Singapore?

We Brexiteers have no wish to be enemy of the EU.  Quite the contrary, we wish to freely trade and exchange with them.  What we do not want under any circumstances is for their laws to have precedence over ours.

Cue: Enter stage Left, Right and Centre - SoD!

 

 

The other book I bought . . .

"The Blood Road" by Stuart MacBride featuring his usual leading policeman, D.I. Logan McRae and so I am certain of a cheer from Jimmy Glesga!  Well, I chose it for two reasons.  First, it will be a trip down memory lane because it is absolute 'yonks' since I last read one of his and Insp. McRae once met is never forgotten - particularly by any of his opponents!  What can one say, except that they seem to do policing a bit differently 'ooop there', in Jockland!  Oh dear, if I enjoy these too much I fear that my (pseudo) intellectual reading might take a serious hit!  I still haven't quite recovered from "I am Pilgrim" by Terry Hayes, quite the most riveting thriller I have ever read!  In fact, that reminds me, he has a fairly recent new book out and I guess the price is reducing by now!

 

I am enjoying a reading holiday

As y'all do know, I am something of a 'book-a-holic', albeit, mainly books of a serious/boring nature.  My most recent was a sort of biography of Disraeli and Gladstone, neither of whom would I have been willing to share a pint with in 'The Tippling Philosopher' across the road! Then I moved on to "The Madness of Crowds" by the highly intelligent, Mr. Douglas Murray.  Alas, that is not exactly a barrel of laughs either and in fact he might have been more accurate to title it 'The Madness of Minorities'!  Anyway, the other day I had to go to Yeovil (yes, indeed, "The horror, oh, the horror!") and to add to my woes I left my Kindle behind!

Entirely due to the Devil's work, the side road I used to park my car led out on to the High Street immediately opposite Waterstones!  So what else was I supposed to do but enter that den of temptations.  However, this time I determined to ease up on the heavy stuff and return to what has been my favourite reading since I was a nipper and used to read my Mum's Agatha Christie books - the 'Crime and Thriller' section!

The first one I chose, admittedly, more out of curiosity than anything else, was "The Sentence is Death" by the well-known TV writer, Anthony Horowitz.  Rather cleverly, he puts himself centrally in the action and this allows him to draw on his experience of 'live shooting' scenes on period London streets.  In doing so, he answers several questions I have often pondered concerning how the film 'boys 'n' girls' turn a modern street scene into a period  one.

For example, I often wonder how they cover up all those yellow, no-parking lines - they smother them with a sort of dust.  He describes a film shoot for an episode of Foyle's War in which several 1940s cars and an old London bus are deployed.  They have chosen a street of genuine Victorian houses but, of course, all aerials and satellite dishes have to be disguised with fake ivy and the like.  Owners are requested, politely, to ensure that their cars are parked elsewhere, and caution has to be maintained lest a modern jet airliner flies overhead!  Pre-made, old-fashioned window and door frames are available to cover up the modern versions that now 'furnish' the exteriors of the houses.  The film company bring along their own reproduction of old London 'phone boxes!  Needless to say, police authority is required to close the road for a strictly limited amount of time, so tension runs high amongst the crew!

Absolutely fascinating and, er, the yarn itself looks as though it is going to be pretty good, as well!

 

 

 

Oh no, a civil war - inside the National Review!

Now look here, JK, you are the D&N archivist but you are also supposed to possess the skills required to read what passes for my mind and, er, 'intuit' what I am about to write.  This morning I read the NR article you linked to in your last comment and began to write a post on the subject but then, dammit, those bloody-bloody "events, dear boy, events" intervened and I had no chance to finish it.  Eventually, I return to find that you have given the game away and thus ruined my reputation for being a really, really deep, serious thinker - sorry, did you say something?

Well, what the hell, it's not the first time I have nicked the thoughts of The National Review in general, and the excellent Mr. Andrew C. McCarthy in particular.  What is particularly fascinating about this article is that it shows Mr. McCarthy in resolute opposition to the views of the NR Editorial team.  I trust no paper coffee cups were hurled!  Actually, it increases my approval of the NR that they can air their differences - you don't see much of that sort of thing in 'The Graun'!

In essence, Mr. McCarthy explains 'the bleedin' obvious' that the Middle East is a first-class 'festerpot' of the very worst kind and that President Trump's decision to get out was, so to speak, 'cruel but kind', particularly in regard to the Kurds, although it must be said, and he says it, that the Kurds have much to answer for themselves!  As I pointed out in my recent post on the subject, it's not so much what the President does as the way that he does it!

The next question is, when and how will he walk/flounce (delete as necessary) out of NATO?  Given that apart from us Brits, no other NATO member pays their full dues towards the cost of American protection, who could blame him?

ADDITIONAL:    Oooops!  Just read a brief post at Zero Hedge reporting that America is rushing 3,000 more troops to help defend that bastion of democracy and liberalism, Saudi Arabia!  Please, Mr. President, do get a grip!

 

 

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From time to time I have mentioned the unsettling shade of the late Ms. Wood, Eng. Lit. and Lang., my former English teacher.  Not that she was a fierce lady, on the contrary, although occasionally purse-lipped, she was on the whole very pleasant.  Even so, she has left me with a slight but constant sense of unease over my English grammar; and perhaps most of all, over the correct use of the semi-colon.  I am reminded of this, again, dammit, by an article in the Times Literary Supplement - oh yes, I never read anything but the very best, don'cha know! - in which Mr. Sam Leith asks, "how much should we revere the semicolon?"

Well, I certainly do not revere it, in fact, I am exceedingly nervous of it!  I am constantly nagged by the realisation that I hardly ever use the damned thing!  Not least because, notwithstanding Ms. Wood's best efforts, I simply do not know the 'rules 'n' regs' for its proper use and I just have the certain feeling that when I do use it, I do so incorrectly!  Yes, I know, 'pathetic' isn't the word!  Alas, Mr. Leith's article leaves me none the wiser but he does, at least, offer some, er, 'guidance' from Mr. Irvine Welsh, the exceedingly Scottish author of "Train Spotting" whose views would have ignited a glacial, death-ray stare from Miss Wood:

I use [the semicolon]. I’ve no feelings about it – it’s just there. People actually get worked up about that kind of thing, do they? I don’t fucking believe it. They should get a fucking life or a proper job. They’ve got too much time on their hands, to think about nonsense.

(And did any of you spot my use of it above?  'Wadya' mean, you have better things to do?)

 

Hands up!

Yesterday I was looking at my hands!  Yes, well, life is a tad boring quiet round these parts and I gave up looking in the mirror decades ago - simply too, too demoralising!  Anyway, there I was, looking at my hands when I had a totally un-original thought.  They are an example of perfect design!

Take a look at your own.  Notice how the fingers are unequal in length which is probably better than having them all exactly the same length.  Then there is the exceedingly useful feature that, apart from the knuckle joint, there are two further 'hinges' along their length which allows you to change the shape of your fist.  Finally, there is that exceedingly useful thumb, set further down and off to one side to make gripping things much easier.  Of course, they were not designed that way, they simply evolved that way.

What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how
infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and
admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like
a god!

Yes, yes, alright, perhaps old Bill went a bit OTT but when you think about it, he was spot on.

 

 

You will read this now - that's an order!

"The move from a structuralist account in which capital is understood to structure social relations in relatively homologous ways to a view of hegemony in which power relations are subject to repetition, convergence, and rearticulation brought the question of temporality into the thinking of structure, and marked a shift from  a form of Althusserian theory that takes structural tonalities as theoretical objects to one in which the insights into the contingent possibility of structure inaugurate a renewed conception of hegemony as bound up with the contingent sites and strategies of the rearticulation of power."

Got that?

No, I will not be asking you questions to test your knowledge because, frankly, I can't understand a bloody word of it!

That passage, according to Wiki: "was awarded first prize in its fourth annual "Bad Writing Competition", which set out to "celebrate bad writing from the most stylistically lamentable passages found in scholarly books and articles."

It was written by Ms. Judith Butler, a well known leader in the micro-puddle of feminist/lesbian studies at the University of California, Berkeley.

No, not exactly my idea of a hot, Californian 'chick', either, but then she has absolutely no desire to be one.  However, what I can say with some conviction is that she is as "thick as six short Ghurkhas".*  Anyone who can with malice afore-thought deliberately write such incomprehensible garbage is in dire need of, er, 're-education'.

*NB: Gurkhas are anything but 'thick' in the sense of lacking intelligence but being frequently nearly as wide as they are tall it has led some, er, 'poet' to invent that witty phrase.

 

'Watch my lyin' lips!'

Well, we all tell the occasional fib but there are some people who simply lie, lie and then lie some more!  Let me introduce you to Mrs. Elizabeth Warren (D-MA).  I'm not quite sure what "MA" stands for but whichever district of America it is, then it is peopled by beings who look unaturally similar to each other and who have difficulty reading and writing because they keep re-electing perhaps one of the greatest lying-liars ever to enter the Halls of Congress - 'Big Chief' Elizabeth 'Fauxcahontas' Warren!

As they obviously say in 'MA', "You can fool me once or you can fool me constantly and repetitively" which 'Faucahontas' does, over and over.

After using for decades a totally false background claiming Red Indian heritage in order to take personal advantage in University places and job advancements, she was finally forced to admit that she was indeed a 'lying liar' of epic proportions.  So it is no surprise, except possibly to the brain dead of 'MA', that she can still tell effortless 'porkies'*.  This time it is her claim to have been more or less fired from an early teaching job because she fell pregnant.  It now transpires that far from being fired, the board of the school at which she worked actually wanted to extend her contract!  Read the sordid details over at Zero Hedge.  

 

*For my foreign readers, a 'porkie', ie, a porkie-pie, is cockney rhyming slang for a lie.

 

ADDITIONAL:   Dammit!  I have only just spotted today's 'cartoon' over The American Thinker:

 

 

It ain't what you do, Mr. President, but the way that you do it!

Let me begin by setting out my credentials.  I have a First Class Honours Degree in Middle East Politics from that illustrious Hall of Learning, er, 'Blogdom University'!  Oh yes, when it comes to the differences between a Sunni and a 'Cloudy' or a Turk and a, well, you know, one of those turban-wearing scallywags, I have all the facts and figures at my fingertips.  By which I mean that given a couple of years of non-stop tapping on my keyboard I could find all the answers via Google - an impeccable source, I am assured!

All of which brings me to that splendid twit in the White House who, with a quick stab at his Twitter-machine, dumps his erstwhile allies deep in the 'doo-doo' by flouncing out of a military/strategic conflict which he has hitherto supported!  Of course, in the short-term he has saved a few 'zillion' dollars and perhaps some servicemen's lives but in the long-term he has reduced trust in America to zero.  Not, of course, that any sensible political leader would ever place too much trust in any other political leader but there are ways of 'ratting out' your erstwhile allies with some sophistication and guile.  Simply announcing out of the blue that "I'm outta here!" is not quite the way to do it especially if in doing so you leave other allies, who had hitherto supported you, holding a suitcase which is ticking ominously.

Trust in America just dropped close to zero.  No 'probs' today perhaps but, Mr. President, think about tomorrow!

 

Your Monday Funnies: 7.10.19

To begin, here is some shrewd advice:



How politics works ...

I TOLD MY SON, "YOU WILL MARRY THE GIRL I CHOOSE."

HE SAID, "NO."

I TOLD HIM, "SHE IS BILL GATES' DAUGHTER."

HE SAID, "YES."

I CALLED BILL GATES AND SAID, "I WANT YOUR DAUGHTER TO MARRY MY SON."

BILL GATES SAID, "NO."

I TOLD BILL GATES, "MY SON IS THE CEO OF THE WORLD BANK."

BILL GATES SAID, "OK."

I CALLED THE PRESIDENT OF WORLD BANK AND ASKED HIM TO MAKE MY SON THE CEO.

HE SAID, "NO."

I TOLD HIM, "MY SON IS BILL GATES' SON-IN-LAW."

HE SAID, "OK.

THAT'S HOW POLITICS WORKS.

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We had a power outage at my house this morning, thus my PC, laptop, TV, DVD, iPad and my new surround sound music system had all shut down.

Then I discovered that my iPhone battery was flat and to top it off it was raining outside, so I couldn't play golf.

I went into the kitchen to make coffee and then I remembered that this also needs power, so I sat and talked with my wife for a few hours.

She seems like a nice person.

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A fine selection of vintage Aussie jokes:

A British man is visiting Australia. The customs agent asks him, “Do you have a criminal record?” The British man replies, “I didn’t think you still needed one to get into Australia anymore.”

Why are murders in Tasmania so hard to solve?
Because there are no dental records and all the DNA matches.

 

An Englishman wants to marry an Irish girl and is told he needs to become Irish before he can do so. It is a very simple operation where they remove 5% of your brain.

Anyway the Englishman wakes up after the operation and the doctor comes up to him looking all worried and says "I am terribly sorry, there's been a mistake to be sure, we accidently removed 50% of your brain instead of 5%!"

The Englishman sits up and simply say "She'll be right, mate".

 

Oh dear, better watch out for incoming!

 

 

 

Those mad, courageous Poles

Don't worry, your Monday Funnies will come a bit later but I have just read a review in The Telegraph of an 'absolute must read' book by Roger Moorhouse called "First to Fight: The Polish War, 1939".  I must confess that although I have read widely on many aspects of WWII, that opening campaign when first the Germans and then a fortnight later, the Russians, invaded 'plucky little Poland' is a mystery to me.

Polish Cavalrymen charging across a field, c1939 Credit: Getty/Popperfoto

And no, according to Mr. Moorhouse, the Poles did not mount cavalry charges against German tanks, they might have been mad (in the best sense) but they were not stupid!  What they did do was destroy some 1,000 German armoured vehicles and 600 German aircraft.  Even more important they managed to smuggle out three Polish mathematicians who were instrumental in breaking the 'Enigma' code, a truly enormous contribution to the eventual defeat of the Germans.

Now, I must go and 'ablute my person' and then I will sort out your, er, 'side-splitters'!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 6.10.19

The difference between two brothers:   I refer to the Princes William and Harry and, no, I do not wish to sink in the mire of speculation concerning their parentage!  Suffice to say that they could not be more different.  William is the straightest of straight arrows, imbued with the sense of duty possessed by his Grandmother.  Harry, by contrast, is a loose canon careening around the Royal deck and likely to go off at any moment.  It's a pity because he is a courageous and likeable young man who did his duty in Afghanistan 'up the sharp end'.  Alas, his wife, I suspect, has an ego that far exceeds her brain cells.  There will be trouble ahead . . .

 

Will Boris blink on the 'chicken-run'?    As he accelerates towards the massive road block that faces him in Europe, in Parliament and in the Courts, will Boris lift his foot off the accelerator or will he push down even harder?  I do not know but the fact that he still employs that determined/fanatical (you choose!) back-seat driver, Dominic Cummings, would indicate that we should not expect the shriek of brakes!  Also, the fact that an increasing number of voters are sick of the whole business and simply want 'OUT', then it will aid Boris, when we finally get to the inevitable election, to show that he has been deliberately obstructed by people intent on defying the will of the majority of voters.  Bring it on!

 

Murray mints:   Do you remember them and their catchy slogan, "Murray mints, Murray mints, too good to hurry mints!"  I am reminded of them, for obvious reasons, because Douglas Murray has entered my life - BIG TIME!  He is, and has long been, a fairly constant commentator on all sorts of subjects in all sorts of newspapers and magazines, as well as being a prolific author on a variety of subjects.  In fact, I have just purchased his latest book: "The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity" so you can expect a review (of sorts) in due course.  He is a former practicing Christian, a homosexual, a strong anti-Islam critic and politically a conservative.  The Guardian described his latest book as "the bizarre fantasies of a rightwing provocateur, blind to oppression."  Apparently they are unaware that he also wrote a book severely criticising my old Regiment when in 1972 it shot 28 unarmed civilians in Derry, 14 of whom died.  So, an interesting fella' and I am looking forward to reading his latest book.  Also, of course, he is a contributing editor of The Spectator - so that's alright then!

 

Call in the Paras!   Apparently, the dim-dumb 'kiddiewankies' are planning to bring London to a halt for a fortnight whilst they protest about '_____________'  (fill in your choice of cause).  I am not really suggesting the military but the police, with the full support of the government, need to act with energy and, if necessary, force!  They might consider spraying them all with yellow paint!

 

Oh 'strewth, I just fell into a gay/queer imbroglio:  Even at my age I keep stumbling over topics about which I know little or sometimes nothing!  The world of 'gays 'n' queers' is one of them but, courtesy of Mr. Murray (see above), I now know very much more.  As I mentioned, Mr. Murray is homosexual and the opening section of his book is devoted to explaining this highly nuanced sub-section of society.  For example, did you know that 'gay' is the word used to describe the more moderate world of homosexuality where-as, 'queer' is the far more extreme version of it?  From that point on, Mr. Murray, with his piercing intelligence, analyses - dare I say? - the 'ins and outs' of this section of society.  I could have managed the rest of my life quite well without it but, dammit, I do have an enquiring mind so I am happy to explore different facets of life, particularly with Mr. Murray as my guide.  All I can say is - 'HOONOO'?

 

No more rumbles

 

An interesting book - well, to me!

I am referring to "Our Boys: The story of a paratrooper" by Helen Parr.  She is now a distinguished academic but earlier in her life as a young girl she was distressed to learn that her uncle, Dave Parr, had been killed in the Falkland Islands whilst serving with the Paras.  Now, later in life, she has returned to this sensitive subject and has used it as a base from which to examine the nature of the Parachute Regiment before, during and after the Falklands war.

She has the essence of the regiment exactly right with its emphasis on  stamina and aggression - both of which could not have been more severely tested than in that freezing, bleak landscape in which virtually everything a soldier needed had to be carried - by the soldier!  She has not flinched from investigating and telling in some detail the nature of very close combat, so close that frequently the bayonet was required.  Nor does she flinch from pointing to some brutal details of the behaviour of some of the 'Toms' when hand-to-hand combat ceased.

Moving back from the 'cut and thrust', so to speak, of the combat, she sets the entire war into the background of UK society then, at the beginning of Margaret Thatcher's premiership, and now, when it seems impossible to imagine British troops going halfway round the world to fight a war - which, of course, was exactly how things were back in 1982!  Not the least of her concerns was, and still is, the nature of the relationship now between British civilian society and its armed forces.

Even so, above and beyond everything is her judicious admiration for 'the Paras', their history and their ethos.  Not a book for everyone but I, an ex-Para who (thank God!) never fired a shot in anger, enjoyed it immensely.

 

 

 

Sorry for the late start . . .

But you see, Saturday morning is a bit of a ritual for me.  First, I must make breakfast for the 'Memsahib' and take it upstairs to her - although this morning I was nearly knocked off the stairs as she rushed down to watch England playing in the Rugby World Cup!  I can't think what she finds exciting about all those huge, hairy men with their massive thighs and straining buttocks but each to his, or her, own!

My next job is to dash round to the newsagent in the High Street, pay the bill and collect the Daily Mail and the Daily Telegraph whilst my good neighbour comes round to deliver the Review section of The Times.  From that point on it's feet up, chair back and non-stop reading - sheer hell, I just don't know how I manage it!  Some particularly good articles today, the essence of which I will bore you later!

 

 

What is it with those Jews, my life already?!

As y'all do know, I have great admiration for the Jewish race.  Not, I hasten to add, that I 'lurve' them all without distinction because "as any fule do no", they have their fair share of total 'tits' - or even worse!  Even so, dammit, they seem to have more than their fair share of total geniuses, as Norman Lebrecht reminds us in The Spectator this week.

My book ["The Song of Songs"] deals with a mystery that greater minds than mine had failed to crack. It’s a simple proposition: between the middle of the 19th and 20th centuries some three dozen men and women changed the way we see the world. For no obvious reason, half of them were Jews. Why is that?  [My emphasis]

He names just a few - Marx, Freud, Einstein, Kafka, Trotsky, Disraeli, Gershwin - and the list could be extended easily.  Then, of course, he reminds us that some of them, for different reasons, made huge efforts to disguise their Jewishness.

Karl Landsteiner, his name was, and you may owe him your life, as I do mine. Landsteiner is the man who made surgical operations safe. An immunologist at the University of Vienna, he strayed outside his field in 1900 to ask why, after successful surgery, many patients died of shock. Might it have to do with blood transfusions? Scientific wisdom at this point held that blood was red and the same in all of us. Landsteiner took a needle to everyone in his lab and stuck the smears under a microscope. In no time at all he identified three types of blood, A, B and O. His discovery was howled down at a national convention of German scientists, but a twenty-something Jewish surgeon at New York’s Mount Sinai Hospital decided to apply a Landsteiner test before operating on a valued patient in November 1907 and, ever since, all of us can face surgery with reasonable confidence.

According to Mr. Lebrecht, Landsteiner actually went to court to have his name removed from an American-Jewish directory!  Of course, the name that leaps out from that list of Jewish geniuses is Albert Einstein:

Consider Albert Einstein. No one to this day can fathom how a Swiss government clerk of no prior academic distinction managed to redefine, in four papers written between March and June of 1905, the nature of the universe, its potential to self-destruct and the horizons of outer space. If journalists asked Einstein to explain his theory of relativity, he would tell a Talmudic joke: ‘When you sit with a pretty girl for two hours it feels like a minute; sit on a hot stove and it feels like eternity.’

Oh, I see, that explains it - duh!  Anyway, Mr. Lebrecht's book has been turned into a film, "The Song of Names" and although I am somewhat 'off' cinema these days, I might well give it a look!

 

 

 

"I hate the talent!"

My title is a direct quote from a dear friend who, alas, is no more.  He was an extraordinary man who made, and lost and then remade again, 'zillions' in show business as an impresario and producer.  His constant refrain through the years that I knew him was, "I hate the talent!"  Reading an article in the Telegraph by Mayo Simon, a screenwriter, author and playwright who once worked on a film with the late but incredibly great, Judy Garland, I can better understand my old friend's neurosis!

Mr. Simon describes Judy Garland at their first meeting as "a fat, middle-aged lady ... who could be the cleaning lady".  An hour later, she is in front of an audience of 4,000 and she is "knocking them dead"!  It's a mystery!  Some people have it, most people do not.  Where's the fairness in that?

Read the article, it's fascinating!

 

 

The most astonishing political event in my life!

Mind you, I was only 6 years old at the time so it hardly impinged on my childhood.  Even so, as a keen, er, 'student' of WWII once I (sort of) grew up, this particular event still astonishes me.  After six long years of the most ferocious and dangerous war ever fought in which we, the British people, were led by a political Titan' of extraordinary courage and stamina, what did we do?  We tossed him out without so much as a "Ta very much!"  Instead, we voted in a nondescript 'Mr. Pooter', a decent chap, and all that sort of thing, but not exactly the sort to shake the pillars of the world!

Had I been an adult back then I think I would have emigrated at high speed!  (Gosh, Australia, that was a near escape!)  Even reading about it later, I still shake my head in disbelief but, again from a distance, my admiration for the 'Great British Peeps' grows apace.  Of course, now that the shock has worn off, it is understandable that, Churchill's war notwithstanding, the Tory party was held responsible for the miseries of the 1930s,  and the millions of servicemen returning from overseas, and their families, desperately wanted the socialist nirvana offered by the Labour party.  Of course, it didn't last and at the next election Labour was laid off and 'Winnie' and his Tories were back in.

I am provoked to these ruminations by a review in The Mail of a book by Leo McKinstry titled "Attlee and Churchill : Allies in War, Adversaries in Peace".  I am sorely tempted to buy it but I fear that if I attempt to stuff yet another book into my titchy, little, slim-line Kindle it will explode!

 

 

Tomorrow, I will have been '55 years before the mast'!

Not, I hasten to say, that it has been an arduous journey, quite the contrary, especially compared to some people we met en route, so to speak.  It was, in a way, a haphazard journey from my marriage on 3rd October 1964 to now, in other words, fairly typical of my slap-dash, make-it-up as you go along, life-style.  At no time in my life have I ever planned a career, instead I have simply ricocheyed from here to there and then, somewhere else!  The only serious decision I ever took was to get married, although to be honest, those damned "events, dear boy, events" played a large part in the decision.  The particular 'event' which clinched it was, of course, 'SoD' who made his presence felt in the summer of '64!

I was perfectly happy to get married even though, as a Private in the Parachute Regiment about to transfer to the Intelligence Corps my prospects were not enticing.  Plus, to add a little, er, 'lustre to my cluster', so to speak, my first posting was halfway round the world in Singapore but the 'Memsahib' and her 'bump' would not be able to join me for 2-3 months.  Easy enough for me as a serving soldier but the strain for her was immense - not that she ever showed it.

Anyway, eventually, I sort of grew up and decided the army was not for me.  There, you see, I actually took a decision!  Alas, I did so with absolutely no idea how I would earn my living and keep a wife and a child, and with absolutely no money of my own.  From that point on, it was a somewhat rickety-rackety progress which could easily have ended in disaster but the most important thing was that me and 'er indoors' got along exceedingly well whatever the circumstances and 'SoD' slotted in perfectly as the third line in the triangle.

So, all in all, a haphazard life but an exceedingly contented one.  I am always somewhat chary of using the word 'happy' but I can certainly use the word 'contented' because it perfectly summarises our marriage and family life.  Tomorrow, we will both raise a glass to celebrate.

(Apologies!  I don't quite know what made me write all that drivel but I just felt the need!)

 

It's all about oil, innit?

Like you, I'm sure, I can't help noticing that the Arabian sands are shifting!  For a start, ever since the handsome but definitely dodgy, 'MbH' (Mohammad bin Salman) took over as de facto ruler of Saudi Arabia, matters have been on the move, not I hasten to add, just because of him but because of those damned "events, dear boy, events!"  Perhaps the greatest and most unexpected 'event' is the fact that that America, God bless its fracking, oily feet, has become a major energy producer which has 'yuuuugely' reduced its reliance on Middle East oil.  Thus, even in the heat of the Arabian desert, 'MbH' is feeling a cold chill!

Timing, as in sex and drumming and grand strategy, is everything, so it is unfortunate for Saudi Arabia that the dawning realisation of its slide in the ranks of power and influence comes just as their nutty neighbour, Ali Khamenei, Supreme Leader of Iran, who is himself feeling the pressure from an increasingly unhappy population, decides to follow the example of most dictators in that situation by inventing an enemy.  Needless to say, the spurious differences in Islamic beliefs between Shia and Sunni is an 'ace in hand' to help him keep his 'peeps' fully behind him.

Then, to add that final touch of, er, ginger spice to the bubbling brew, way 'over there' we have President Trump - yeeeeeees, quite!  As usual, he surprises by not, so far, rising to either Saudi appeals for support, or to Iranian provocations.  Let us hope that he remains that way.  Shia or Sunni, they are all fanatical loonies and best kept at arms length whilst simultaneously applying maximum economic pressures on both of them.

Well done, Mr. President, keep it up - no, no, not that, I mean your cool, calm policy!

My thanks to Mr. Victor Davis Hansen at The National Review for an excellent - and expert! -  summary of the situation.

 

 

 

 

 

Please, please, let 'Fauxcahontas' Warren face off against the 'Ginjah Ninjah'

At my age there is not that much to look forward to but the thought of two all-time, great, American 'lying-liars' slugging it out for most of next year will be "a consummation devoutly to be wished"!  To be fair, when it comes to full on, non-stop lying, 'Fauxcahontas' takes the prize.  Yes, I'm sure 'The Donald' probably told his first 'porkie' (that's Cockney rhyming slang for 'Porkie Pie' = lie!) way before the time he first promised his #1 wife that he would "love, honour and obey" but, hey, waddya mean, lotsa guys do that!

'Fauxcahontas", on the other hand, has lived and breathed and prospered with her very own whopping great LIE uttered and endlessly repeated with malice aforethought to the point where even her supporters:

. . . have had to admit that the crucial leaps in her academic career — her landing a job at the University of Pennsylvania and then moving on to Harvard — occurred after she began listing herself as a racial minority. The year before Harvard Law School hired her — and trumpeted her as the first woman of color so hired — it had been subject to major, headline-grabbing protests for giving tenure to four white men. [My emphasis]

Of course, I realise that in these increasingly 'woke' years, Penn University and Harvard absolutely must remain 'colour blind' but I can't help wondering whether they are actually, just blind!

And it's not as though there were no clues to be found earlier in her life.  There was her famous foray into helping 'cook' (I use the word deliberately) the famous "Pow Wow Cook Book" with her sister in 1984, when it transpired later that three of her five recipes were nicked from a famous French chef!

To quote the favourite phrase of Richard Littlejohn, "You couldn't make it up!" - but 'Fauxcahontas' could!

 

 

A far better radio operator than I would ever have been!

As you regulars know, I always keep half an eye on the 'obits' in The Telegraph because they are a constant source of delight and wonderment and humour and, very often, total admiration.  Today, there is an 'obit' on the late, and exceedingly courageous, Sgt. John Sharp who has died recently aged 96.

John Sharp in France sending Morse Code messages from his suitcase wireless

If ever the well known phrase 'He had a good war' applied to anyone it was to this man.  I salute his memory.