DUFF & NONSENSE!

Why are Universities so 'stoopid'?

Time for a trip down the Time Tunnel, I'm afraid - and I am grimly aware that my own particular Time Tunnel is exceedingly long and getting longer!  Anyway, I will open my remarks with a single name which may, or may not, get the memory banks ticking away - Norman Geras!  I should, perhaps, put it this way - the late Norman Geras, 25 August 1943 – 18 October 2013, R.I.P.

He was an esteemed University teacher and a Professor Emeritus of Government at Manchester University.  He was also an out-and-out Marxist with, no doubt, the reddest of red underwear!  For years he ran a personal blog in which he put forward his Marxist ideas which I read and, of course, criticised fiercely - but never angrily because it was obvious that he was an exceptionally pleasant man and not one to allow his Marxist philosophy to stop him from lashing 'the usual suspects' on the extreme Left if they were more than usually 'stoopid'.  In other words he was an idealistic Marxist but one who never forgot his humanity.

I am reminded of all this by an article at The Coffee House written by Nick Cohen who has discovered that some moron at the 'University of Morons', aka: Reading University, have issued severe warnings to students and teachers that the words of Norman Geras must be treated with extreme caution under the 'anti-terrorist Prevent programme'!  The fact that Norman Geras spent his entire life in passionate opposition to any action likely to cause civilian casualties seems to have escaped these pen-pushing 'Pecksniffs'.  Read Cohen's article and be reminded, yet again, that the biggest dunces are usually found in Universities!

 

 

The last word on WWI

I meant to publish this yesterday but, disgracefully, I never quite got around to it.  It is a famous painting by one of my absolute favourite artists, the American John Singer Sargent.  It is entitled "Gassed".

Luckily, I once saw the original at the Imperial War Museum where, at some 2o feet long, it covered the entire end-wall of the gallery.  It deserves its place up there with the very greatest of war artistry such as the poems of Wilfred Owen.  Sargent was a superb painter as I learned when I went to view his work in a special exhibition in London a few years ago.

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 11.11.18

11.11.18:   Just writing that date - 11.11.18 - in my heading, gave me pause!  I have been watching the television coverage of events in Whitehall as thousands of representatives of different military associations, some of them harking back to the reign of Charles II, marched past the Cenotaph to mark, this year, the 100th anniversary of the end of WWI.  The phrase 'living history' is somewhat hackneyed but in a sense that parade and what it represents is exactly that - living history.  All those men and women marching past represent the warp and woof of British history over the past century or so.   Not, I hasten to add, the entirety of British history, just a part of it but even so as you follow the threads as they weave their way to almost all parts of the globe it gives you a notion as to what an extra-ordinary and epic nation this small, North Atlantic island really was in world historical terms.  Needless to say, our history, like everyone else's,  is the usual mix of 'the good, the bad and the ugly' because that is human nature.  Even so, I think there is much in it that is worthy of judicious pride.

ADDITIONAL:  Lest my soppy words above smooch you into a mellow mood of self-satisfaction, I urge you to read the 'Heffalump's' stern corrective in today's Telegraph!

 

Our American friends live between a rock and a hard place:  I am beginning to run out of the sheer number of natural disasters that keep crashing and smashing and bashing America.  Yes, I know it is a 'yuuuuuge' country but even so they do seem to have been suffering unduly recently and the nature of their sufferings is almost apocalyptic.  I wish them well - and soon! 

 

Sorry, Mr. President, but you just 'blooped' - big time!   For the headlines to read, in effect, that President Trump failed to attend a WWI memorial event in France because he might get his hair wet is 'stoopid' beyond belief.  We all realise that you have 'a hair problem', Mr. President, but as POTUS, sometimes you have to make a tiny sacrifice to acknowledge the truly 'yuuuuuuuuuuuge' sacrifice that your own soldiers made a hundred years ago.

 

Sorry, sorry, sorry - not many rumbles today all due to - yes, you guessed - those bloody "events, dear boy, events"!

 

More rumbles later  . . .

 

 

So it is treachery

 

I have kept quiet recently on the subject of Brexit - who cheered? - because I did not wish to believe what my suspicions were telling me.  Now, the truth cannot be ignored.  We, the majority of the British public, a majority established in an open and fair referendum, have been betrayed.  Mrs. May in particular, the government in general and the higher ranks of the Civil Service have lied and lied and lied again as they combined secretly to sell us out to the European State.  This is almost as rotten and foul as Chamberlain's cowardice and deceitfulness in 1938/9.  The Tory party will crash and burn at the next election - and they deserve it!

 

The pros and cons of mass slaughter!

As we approach Armistice Day at its 100th anniversary of the end of WWI, I am deeply grateful to The Telegraph for publishing today two thoughtful and learned essays, one arguing in favour of Britain taking part, the other arguing in favour of neutrality.  I would urge you all to read both of them and make up your own minds.

Personally, I have never doubted that we were right to fight, although I will never stop believing that the way we fought it was monstrously stupid!  As I have written before, many a time and oft', perhaps, too many and too oft', no British government could allow the Atlantic/North Sea coast to be held by a foreign and hostile adversary.  Yes, it happened in WWII and look what it cost us and how very near we came to defeat because of it.  Also, and quite apart from our defence needs, we need to recognise that because we controlled the sea-lines of western Europe we had a Grand Strategic weapon in our hands which would, in fact it did, win us the war.

What we should not have done is to allow the stupid Generals to mount utterly useless attack after attack after attack on the Western Front which cost us dear and achieved little.  Instead, we should have remained on the defensive and concentrated on slaughtering the Germans wholesale as they attacked us!  In the meantime the Navy should have exerted all their strength in tightening the noose around Germany which, as it happened, eventually forced a starving German population to surrender.

There, ex-Cpl. Duff has spoken, carry on!

 

 

 

The Russians have a sense of humour - 'hoonoo?

And this, the Admiral Kuznetsov, is merely the 'biggest and bestest' joke of the lot!  I am not sure who the Russian equivalent of 'Mutt 'n' Jeff' are, let's just call them 'Muttski 'n' Jeffski'!  Anyway, they are the splendid representatives of the Russian proletariat who have contributed to the hilarious history of the (not very) good ship, Admiral Kuznetsov!

Alas, I lack the time and energy to provide you with the concise history of this doom-laden 'ship of fools' but you can read all about it over at The American Thinker but I urge you all to set your coffee mugs to one side as you do so - new keyboards can be expensive!  Perhaps the greatest virtue of this article is that it makes me feel microscopically better about the two British aircraft carriers which, since they lack any aircraft, might just as well be stuffed full of £10-notes and then sunk!

 

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 4/11/18

In which I come down off the fence:   As you may have noticed, I have been exceedingly reticent in forecasting the outcome of the American mid-terms.  Part of my reason/cowardice is because I have a long and, er, less than distinguished record of forecasting electoral results.  The other day I hinted - indicated - suggested - that possibly the Dems would not achieve the magnificent victory on which they have set their hearts.  Today, I am prepared to "boldly go where no man has gone before" and forecast that they will fail to take either the House or the Senate!  Now, I confess that I am partly driven in this by my desire that the Dems receive the kick in the crutch that they fully deserve.  You would think that having already received one kick a mere two years ago when they seriously - no, I mean it - seriously believed that 'HillBilly' was a worthy candidate for the Presidency that they would 'box clever'.  No chance!  Their stupidity, as exemplified by the Kavanaugh campaign, has obviously metastasized.  They deserve everything which - I guess! - is coming their way on Tuesday.

 

"Regrets, I have a few . . ."   But not that many, I am happy to report and anyway most of those I do have are pretty piffling in the great scheme of things.   However, one that continues to niggle away at me is that I missed my chance to direct "A Midsummer Night's Dream".  I was lined up for the job but just as I started to work on my ideas the 'Memsahib' decided that it was time for us to move house so the world was denied the chance to view my butchery and dear old Will slept easier in his tomb!  Part of my disappointment was that I had decided to use the Mama Cass version of that lovely song "Dream a Little Dream of Me" as a musical motif.  I love her version of it and I think it would have worked well but, alas, now we will never know!

 

Bring back hanging?  Yes or No?   As the murder rates in the UK drive relentlessly higher I was still somewhat shocked to see that the latest stabbing took place 'down 'ere in Bridgewater, Zummerzet, oo-ar, oo-ar'!  Dammit, that sort of thing is not permitted in our rural county, it's the sort of thing they go in for in London and 'ooooop north'!  According to a quick run through of the breaking stories, our local version of Dogberry and his Watch (aka: the 'Zummerzet' Constabulary) appear to be arresting anyone and everyone who lives in Bridgewater but no doubt they will eventually sort out who the 'perp' is.  In the meantime, I wonder if it is time for me to bring back my 'campaign' for the re-establishment of hanging for those found guilty of murder?

 

Obama is just another old publicity tart:   I thought, in my usual mixture of ignorance and old-age, that it wasn't quite the 'done thing' for retired Presidents to come out on the hustings and get involved in national elections.  Perhaps I am wrong but even so I do find it a bit distasteful for the old 'queen' to totter out and attempt to strut his stuff.  Happily, I understand that he is playing to half-empty houses but, I wonder, will he notice?  "There's none so blind as them wot can't see!"

 

And so we bid farewell to Lord Jeremy Heywood:   First, I must make clear that for anyone to die at the age of 56 of cancer that was only discovered a year ago is a tragedy for him and his family.  As for his record, mostly as the senior civil servant within the government, he quickly became 'the Sir Humphrey of all Sir Humphreys'!  Whether he was any good is impossible to say not least because how could anyone define what "good" was in such a role.  I fear the worst but, alas, I will have to await the history books before I decide and, yes, "I should live so long my life already!"

 

Sorry, I forgot to tell you:   Yes, I'm in 'lurve' again - Big Time!  The lucky lady is a Hollywood star called Cameron Diaz.  Yes, yes, of course I have heard of her but until yesterday I had never seen her.  However, clicking around the TV channels I came across a film called "Knight and Day" and, no, me neither until I saw it yesterday.  It also 'stars' the vertically-challenged Mr. Tom Cruise - and he was excellent, too!  Don't ask me what the film was about, just think James Bond on 'speed'!  It was totally bonkers but so bonkers that I never stopped laughing.  Most of all, though, I was very taken with Ms. Diaz who has a bewitching, cheeky smile which totally entranced me. 

 

Sorry, I must go into my darkened room:   Well, in just over an hour the second episode of "The Little Drummer Girl" will commence and I know from hard experience that I will need to concentrate really hard, not something I'm very good at, so a wee nap might be essential!  

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

 

Our American friends are not the only ones approaching a crunch point!

As James Forsyth points out at The Coffee House, there has been an ominous silence on 'the Brexit Front'.  Apparently, there are a multitude of 'conversations' going between 'us and them' but not a whisper as to the likely outcomes.  Even worse, Mrs. May seems abundantly cheerful - and that can only mean bad news!  The 'Leavers' in the cabinet suspect that they are about to be trounced with a take it or leave it deal which will give them the difficult decision as to whether they meekly submit or resign and risk bring down the entire government.  The fact that 'Oily' Robbins, Mrs. May's, er, 'trusted' civil service advisor seems to be 'on the missing list' fills me with foreboding.  What's the little slug up to?

Shortly, we will find out but I fear the worst!

 

Students get a lesson in Econ. 101

I really am too good to you people!  I am the 'cheerer-upper' who never stops giving and today, courtesy of Guido, I bring you the happiest of happy tidings - the National Union of Students is close to bankruptcy.  My only surprise is that it has taken so long!  Given their gormless stupidity as evidenced in their endless and utterly useless demos and their irresolute resolutions on subjects about which they know next to nothing, I am amazed that they have staggered on for so long.

I hasten to add that I do not imply that all students suffer with the sort of brain damage evidenced by their 'Union'.  I remember, back in the day, 'SoD' and his mates at 'Uni' treating the political nitwits of the NUS with the contempt they deserved.  He and his pals concentrated on the two critically important aspects of student life - the beer and the girls!  Quite right, too!

About this 'poverty' nonsense

Standby, here comes a Duff joke - in all senses!  If I had a quid for every time I heard Corbyn and McDonnell sobbing out the word "poverty", I would be a rich man!  I know, I know, it's the way I tell 'em!  So yesterday and today, following the Chancellor's Budget speech, the wailing women of the Labour party, and that includes the men, have been sobbing and beating their breasts and calling down the wrath of Karl Marx onto the brutal head of 'Phil the Pill' Hammond.  Apparently, this latter-day Scrooge will soon fill the streets with emaciated kiddie-winkies dressed in rags.  Er, well, actually, most of the kiddie-winkies I see on the streets are over-weight Billy Bunter lookalikes and, so I am assured, their rag-like appearance is actually the height of 'Youf fashion, innit?'

Anyway, it sort of drove my mind back to my childhood, the first five years of which were spent during WWII.  I, of course, was evacuated from London to the green fields of Surrey and I can't say I ever experienced a pang of hunger.  Then my Mum picked me up and we moved back to London and then back to Surrey again.  She (and I) had to exist entirely on her weekly wage.  Again, I may not have been the most fashionably-dressed schoolboy and I was a bit on the thin side but again, I never went hungry.  I sort of sensed that money was always tight but it never bothered me - or any of my similarly situated mates.

The screeching hypocrisy, if not down-right lying, of the Labour MPs is a disgrace.  In their world, if a kiddie-winkie does not have the latest X-box and an endless supply of burgers and chips to fill their bulging bellies, they are impoverished!  Judged by their appearance, some of the fatties on the Labour benches could do with a dose of impoverishment!

As for Hammond's budget, it was, of course, a typical 'mandarin' construct in which dollops of dosh were carefully weighed and then handed out to different sections of - dread words! - The Peeps!  How they must have congratulated each other on their masterful cleverness but I can't help wondering if the junior office boy didn't pipe up at some stage and ask where all the dosh was coming from?  If he did, I strongly urge him to look for a new career!  There was only ever one aim for Hammond to attempt and that was to reduce our nation debt.  His budget will send it even higher and the undoubted fact that Corbyn/McDonnell would have sent it to Mars is neither here nor there.  All around the world national debts are driving ever upwards and it is unsustainable.  When it stops, they will spin to earth like a shot-down aircraft and the resulting crash will be - dare I say? - yuuuuuuuuge'! 

If I had spare money, I would buy gold!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 28.10.18

Needless to say, on this morning in which some looney turned the clocks back an hour, I am all over the place.  Even so, I will endeavour to keep all my faithful readers supplied with the wit and wisdom of Cpl. Duff - don't say it!

 

Brexit - the 'clincher'!   For all those who still cling to their soppy-soft love for the EU - and yes, that includes you, 'SoD'! - the tin-pot dictators of Brussels have shown the mailed fists that hide beneath their soft kid gloves.  The European Court of Human Rights (no sniggering because that's probably an offence as well!) have now proclaimed that critical comments aimed at Islam and/or Islamists are verboten!  An Austrian lady who gave two seminars on Islam including the information, as written in the Koran, that Mohammed married a 6-year old girl and consummated it when she was 9-years old, was fined.  The ECHR has now extended that decision and it has forbidden any critical Islamic commentary whether it is true or false. You can read all about it at The National Review.

 

We'd be better off with Dogberry and his pals:   Or, to put it another way, the Police Force should be locked up!  As always, Peter Hitchens says it all so much better than I ever could:

Many of us who have had dealings of one kind or another with the modern police suspect that, if we go to them, they will probably manage to mess up the case, ably assisted by the CPS, while also giving our full personal details to the suspect.
Even if they get it right, the criminal will be ‘spared jail’ by a feeble judge. Simpler to let it go.

And by coincidence, The Mail reports today that three police officers involved in the Stephen Lawrence case of 25-years ago are to be interviewed under caution for possible misconduct in public office.  It carries a maximum penalty of life imprisonment but I strongly advise you not to hold your breath!

 

More Mohammed:   Dammit, I have only just stumbled on Douglas Murray's article on the 'Cocklecarrots' who sit on the ECHR who have forbidden us all from being rude about Mohammed and his 'religion'.  His final paragraph says it all and I, for one, endorse it:

For my own part I don’t care a jot for the ruling of the ECHR and will continue to say what I like when I like. I trust that across Europe many other people will respectfully reserve the right to do the same.

 

Ok, I surrender!   Well, I have just read the latest review of Max Hastings' monumental history of the Vietnam wars - and yes, there was more than just one of them.  I have resisted buying it, despite the 'rave reviews', because I am still plodding my way through The Story of England by Sir Roy Strong and I have only just reached the Georgian period, er, not that it isn't a terrific read but there's a lot of it!  Anyway, I have just read the review of Hastings' book in The American Spectator by Roger Kaplan and I have decided to give it a go.  I will have to buy a hard-back edition because I suspect there is will be several maps and whilst I worship my Kindle it's just not very good with maps.  Of course, if my ever-lovin' son reads this perhaps he will save his dear, old Dad a few quid by buying me a copy for Christmas!  

 

Alas and alack:   I lunched not wisely but too well!  A short break will be required to allow me to rise up to the seventh level of inner awareness.  When I descend, I will re-join you.

 

We're doomed, I tell you, doomed!   According to WUWT, 'The Graun' is cutting back on its global warming blog spots mainly run by Dana Nuccitelli, a West Coast nutjob prophet of 'The End is Nigh' because of AGW.  'Little Georgie Moonbat' was unavailable for comment - so not all bad then!

 

Sorry, had to pop over to Mexico:   Thank God for my private jet that whisked me across the Atlantic to Mexico so that I could cheer (Sir) Lewis Hamilton on to his World Championship victory!  (Well, dammit, a man may dream, may he not?)  Jolly good show, (Sir) Lewis!

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

Give that splendid 'Yankee-Doodle' a Knighthood!

It might be a busy morning for me today but before I put on my chauffeur's uniform and drive the 'Memsahib' to the shops (such fun!) I just had to record my immense gratitude to Mr. Matt Delacambre from Louisiana.  He it was  who spotted some nutter trying to smash the glass that protects one of the only four copies of the Magna Carta on display in Salisbury Cathedral.  He grabbed the man and held him down until help arrived.

I must confess that I was truly shocked at this example of vandalism because, whilst I am not usually given to emotion over the historic detritus that litters our old Kingdom, I do believe that the Magna Carta is an unbelievably important document.  It is important not to over sentimentalise it, after all, it was just the recording of deal struck between some 'robber' barons and an even bigger 'robber' king but it is the greatest example of one of those 'damned unexpected consequences' that constantly riff through history.

Pushed and pulled, this way and that, over the following centuries the fundamental essence of the document was never quite lost and then, gradually, they were built upon and it evolved into the foundation of our system of law upon which our liberties depend.  Perhaps of even greater importance was that its principles were taken across the Atlantic and lodged in America so that as we have gradually declined, America has grown and perpetuated its essence.  It is, perhaps, singularly appropriate that this precious document was safeguarded by an American citizen.

Thank you, Mr. Delacambre, I am truly grateful and should we ever meet, the drinks are on me!

 

 

Why are sex pests so ugly?

Should you doubt the veracity of my question - you wouldn't dare! - would you? - just take a look at this latest Lothario, Sir (for how long one wonders?) Phillip Green.  Actually, he looks a bit like me when I played Falstaff!

 

I will not ruin your day by printing a photo of Harvey Weinstein but to me, they could be cousins at least!  Mind you, and this is important, nothing has been proven against (Sir) Phillip but according to the Telegraph he induced several ladies, upset, apparently, by his unwanted sexual advances, to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDAs) in return for 'loadsa' money'.  Alas, the 'dandruff-ridden, smelly socks brigade' from Fleet Street (or thereabouts) began nosing around and poor (well, actually, stinking rich) Sir Phillip was forced to fork out half a mill' to buy the services of some top-class 'silks' (no, no, they're not tarts, they're lawyers - behave!) to enforce an injunction against the Telegraph and stop them publishing.

Alas and alack (or goody-goody according to your taste!), up pops Lord Peter Hain (and he's no angel either!) in the House of Lords and lets the secret out of the bag.  Cue: a re-enactment of a Bateman cartoon, everyone was shocked, I tell you, shocked!  Well, not me because one of my oldest friends was in the 'rag-trade' years ago when he and 'Phil' were just beginning.  Suffice to say, my pal was not impressed!  The good news, I suppose, is that the ladies concerned banked Phil's money and because they have not broken their NDAs they get to keep it.  Simply too, too delicious!

 

 

The Sunday Rumble: 21.10.18

There goes Sunday!   I was in quite a good mood when I got up this morning - but then I read a column by Col. Tim Collins in The Mail.  In it, he describes the British Army, in fact, all the British services, as "chubby, drug-addled and right on".  One picture is worth a thousand words!

As usual, the fault lies with that collection of ambitious, smarmy, creeping bunch of wankers who constitute our High Command, none of whom has the guts to tell our effete politicians that Political Correctness might be OK for the Civil Service but has no part in a fighting army.

 

Is it time to reset our opinions of  'The Donald'?   I am not going to indulge in a forensic examination of his two years in the White House but where-as I began by flinching at some of his behaviour and trembling at some of his decisions, gradually, as I have peeped out from behind my fingers, I sense that perhaps, just perhaps, he is getting things more right than wrong.  His re-action to the hysteria over the Saudi murder has been a fine example of real-politik and up in heaven, or perhaps down in hell, the likes of Bismarck and Talleyrand are raising a glass in support.  Still early days, of course . . .

 

The 'Hefferlump' goes all out DD:   No, no, not David Duff but David Davis!  In a brief but pointed article in The Telegraph today, he urges Tory MPs who are hesitating over sending in letters urging Mrs. 'Muppet' to resign, to just get on with it and rid us all of that dim-witted woman.  Somewhat to my surprise, he throws his support behind David Davis as a new Prime Minister.  Well, Boris cannot be trusted and the 'Moggman' would not go down well in the country.  Davis, however, comes across as a fairly normal 'one of us' and his service in the SAS can only help. 

 

This made me giggle:    The American Thinker site is always worth a visit, not least for the witty cartoons they publish:

 Spot on, methinks!

 

Not sure I could cope with this one:   I refer to the latest history book produced by Max Hastings which, normally, I would snap up in seconds.  Alas, the title of this one is "Vietnam: An Epic Tragedy 1945-1975" and the prospect of wading through that unmitigated bloodbath is more than I can contemplate.  To be honest, the fact is that it will remind me in the most painful way of how wrong I was to support it 'back in the day'!  It also reminds me that whilst I am fascinated by the war at sea during WWI, I cannot read very much about the 'slugfest' that took place on land.  It shares with Vietnam an enormous casualty list and a cornucopia of stupidity from both the commanders and the politicians and, er, me!

 

"How high the moon?"   'I dunno' but apparently it's getting higher!  Or to be more precise, it's moving away from us, according to Prof. S. Fred Singer at The American Thinker.  He, being a proper swot, offers some scientific explanations but, with all due respect, I put it down to JK's habit, on full moon nights, of hurling empty bottles of 'Barney Magroo's Finest' in its direction as he bewails the loss of all those 'gals' in every port he ever visited!  Well, you can't blame the moon, I mean who wants to live next door to noisy neighbours!

 

Right, pay attention, all you 'Yankee-doodles'!   Your Commanding Officer, er, well, your ex-Corporal, actually, is about to give you your orders.  This afternoon you will stop watching all that 'stop 'n' start' version of rugby you play 'over there' and instead you will retune your TVs in order to watch (Sir) Lewis Hamilton waltz off with the F1 World Championship at the American Grand Prix.  (Actually, that was damned difficult to type given that I had all my fingers crossed as I did it!)  If any of you live nearby and you are handy with a Winchester rifle, please feel free to shoot out the tires of that damned Hun! 

 

(Sir) Lewis, Her Maj will not be amused!   My goodness, what an excellent race!  And what an excellent circuit!  So, decision time moves to the Mexican Grand Prix to be held at a circuit named after the late Rodriguez brothers, both of whom were killed at different times in motor races.  I once knew, very slightly, Pedro Rodriguez, a quiet man but a terrific racer.  Meanwhile, (Sir) Lewis remains poised to take the championship but we will just have to wait!

 

 

No more rumbles today!

 

 

God bless (Sir) Mark Zuckerberg!

Let me start by owning up to the fact that I know next to nothing about (Sir) Mark Zuckerberg and even less about his 'whizzy-do' company Facebook.  I have never used its, er, 'services' and have absolutely no desire to do so.  Everything I read about it convinces me to remain aloof, up here in the tranquil heights of D&N.  Mind you, I am happy to offer my congratulations to (Sir) Mark for, in effect, making 'gazillions' of dollars out of bugger all!  That's true American 'get up and go'!

Not, of course, that he is universally admired, just the opposite, he is subject to an almost non-stop barrage of criticism, although I can't be bothered to dig into the detail.  Mind you, if the 'incoming' is really heavy, he can always take cover behind his stacks of 'dosh'!  However, today I am prepared to put my head above the parapet and say loud and clear, but not on 'Facebook', "Jolly well done, (Sir) Mark!", you have done me and all the peasants in this 'our septic Isle', an enormous favour for which we are all deeply grateful. 

What has he done, you ask?  Well, he has given Nick 'Cleggeron' Clegg a job and the ineffable 'piss-drip', plus his snooty wife with the fancy Spanish name, are departing these shores for 'Kal-i-forn-i-a' which is about as far away as he can go without us having to send him to Australia - and be fair, the 'Aussies' don't deserve him!  'The Cleggeron' will be very happy on the West coast where they are all drippingly wet, liberal petals, except, of course, the multitude of hard-working immigrants eager to do the bidding of the 'Sahib' and 'Memsahib', you know, just like in the smart boroughs of London that the Cleggs are so used to!  

Finally, there is the reputation that in the high ranks of all those Silicon Valley outfits, lying is thought of as a virtue, so the fact that he has a considerable number of public quotes from his past slagging off his new employers should earn him a bonus!  Also, and this will definitely earn him some prestige in the corporate hierarchy, he is a promise-breaker, as in for example, the time when he promised students, absolutely promised them, not to increase tuition fees.  They probably believed him - suckers!

Now, my advice to Mr. Zuckerberg, if he is desirous of being gently tapped on the shoulders with a sword by 'Her Maj' as she grants him a knighthood, is to quickly offer 'Dim Dave' Cameron a job, as well, and there-by get him off our shores, too.  That might get him a Lordship!  In the meantime, I would strongly advise any of my readers with shares in Facebook to SELL, SELL, SELL!

 

 

 

 

Should we shoot one in three of our senior civil servants?

Now, before you shudder at the thought, just remember that splendid French phrase 'pour encourager les autres'!  Also, to put a bit of determination in your spine, let me remind you that it is now blindingly obvious that, apart from the soaking wet Mrs. May, the main reason for the utter shambles of our Brexit (non)negotiations are the massed ranks of our civil service.  Of course, I am certain that there is a minority, a very tiny minority, of civil servants who are in favour of Brexit but the devilish cleverness of my scheme is that in only shooting one in three we are bound to get far more 'remoaners' than 'Brexiteers'!

As Charles Moore points out at The Coffee House:

Whitehall thinks Brexit is dreadful, so it tries to accomplish it not with maximum success, but with minimum damage. Its definition of damage is anything which separates Britain from the EU. It is an overwhelmingly negative and fearful frame of mind, and I am afraid Mr Robbins exhibits it.

The Mr. Robbins he refers to is that oily individual who has guided our utterly dim-witted Prime Minister into the 'slough of despond' in which she, and the rest of us, find ourselves today.  No doubt he plays on her very English desire to achieve a 'fair deal' based on sensible compromise.  Some of you may recall that when all this kicked off I pointed out in fairly blunt language that the Brussels hegemony had absolutely no intention of giving us even the pickings of their noses by way of compromise, a word whose meaning is unknown to them!  Quite apart from their instinctive dislike for Britain which drives many of them to take any available chance to give us a slap, they are also driven by rage that we had the impertinence, nay, the treachery, to damage their version (and please don't giggle) of "a shining city upon a hill"!  Well, I suppose if you are some dim-witted, mittel-European (I leave you to fill in the names!) barely qualified to run, say, Luxembourg, and you are suddenly jumped up into a position of power with an enormous salary and pension and expenses, then you would be cross at anyone seeking to de-rail your gravy train!

However, none of that excuses the behaviour, the treacherous behaviour, of our senior office boys 'mandarins' in condoning a lick-spittle approach to the Europeans.  Severe action needs to be taken against them.  I would suggest calling in the Saudi Arabian security services to do the job but perhaps that is a tad extreme, so perhaps instead, we should simply put Mr. Olly Robbins and his ilk in charge of the Dept. of Drains and Sewers where, I suspect, they will feel entirely at home!

 

 

I HATE 'hate crime' laws!

Before  all those hateful idiots in parliament pass a law banning 'hate crime' perhaps they should spell out in very clear English exactly and precisely what constitutes 'hate crime' - don't hold your breath waiting, it could damage your health!  If, for example, I mutter under my breath that I 'hate' that titchy, little twerp, Bercow, who squats like a poisonous dwarf in the Speaker's chair in the House of Commons, what, exactly, have I done?  I haven't threatened him with the contents of an over-full sick-bag, nor have I encouraged anyone else to do so.  I have merely expressed my opinion of him.  If you are deaf, dumb, blind and lack a sense of smell, or, you are a Labour party MP-drone who loves to lick his little booties, then go ahead, it is after all, merely your opinion, and like most opinions, it says so much about you!

Perhaps all those legalistic, little 'Goody-Two-Shoes' who want to pass laws to control what we think, as opposed to what we do, should just sod off to North Korea and see how they like it in 'Fat Boy Kim's' paradise where the, er, 'Glorious Leader' is the only one permitted to indulge in hatred which he expresses by shooting you dead if you disagree!  As it happens, I don't really hate anyone very much, certainly not to the point of doing anything about it, although I must admit that when it comes to strongly disliking people I do not think it would take long for me to fill Wembley Stadium!

 

The Sunday Rumble: 14.10.18

Eeeeks! Who would want to be a POTUS?   Well, if the 'Big Don' was unsure what it entailed being 'Mr. President', he sure as hell is finding out the hard way today.  The whole silly world is 'shocked, I tell you, shocked' over the mysterious disappearance of some Arab journalist called Khashoggi who is, of course, being a journalist and also for working with the 'WaPo', nigh unto sainthood!  The fact that he is a former friend of bin Laden and a dedicated supporter of the Muslim Brotherhood has not yet reached the MSM, particularly the WaPo!  Still 'n' all, as they say 'over there', something must be done, Mr. President, to those horrid Saudi 'murderers' even if it means losing not only a much needed ally but also '$illions' in arms deals which will put tens of thousands of American workers on the dole.  Incidentally, that non-stop cackling you can hear is the Iranian mullahs laughing their socks off, er, they do wear socks, don't they? 

 

Enough, my life already!   I have today issued an edict from here in Chateau Duff that henceforth all Royal weddings are forbidden!  Or at least, the details are to be withheld from all media outlets.  If I see one more utterly tedious story about the latest Royal nuptials I will go mad, I tell you, mad  . . .  Oh, and that goes for 'Strictly Come Dancing', too!

 

Les temps perdu:   Sometimes, and on a selective basis, it is nice to revisit past times and I am exceedingly grateful to Mr. Silvio Canto, Jnr at The American Thinker  who reminds us that yesterday was an anniversary of the birth of 'that woman' who was born in 1925.  Sorry, but from my meagre memory of poetic quotations, all I can think of to write is "Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive" when Maggie Thatcher's government began.  I am tempted to compare her to the present incumbent but it is too, too depressing!

 

Ah yes, Paul R. Ehrlich, remember him?   No, I thought not and I must confess that I had forgotten him which is a pity because there is nothing funnier than a genuine, er, 'scientific' swot who is always and forever completely and utterly wrong in all his predictions.  I can vaguely remember years ago in my early blogging days sneering at his ludicrous predictions, and cheering when I learned that the late (alas) Julian Simon had won his bet with Ehrlich who, being an apocalyptic, shroud-waving forecaster of the very gloomiest kind reckoned that the price of several different metals, which he chose, used in a variety of industries would rise through the roof due to scarcity and depletion.  Their prices actually fell!  Ehrlich also said that the greatest threat to the population was, er, well, population and that unless strict rules were imposed to control the growth then, well, it was the End of the World!  All total 'blx', of course!

 

Is Australia real?   Oooops, that was rather clumsily put, let me explain before the wrath of AussieD and Andra descends on my innocent head!  Last night I watched half of an Australian movie called "Goldstone".  The setting was in the middle of Australia, than which you could not find a more totally empty place outside of a vacuum!  The long shots showed a zillion acres of nothing, absolutely nothing, but sand and more sand, some rock and distant - very distant - mountains.  Every ten thousand acres or so, there was a single, weedy looking tree but how it got there and how it survived I do not know.  I was reminded of "Waiting for Godot" and any minute I expected Vladimir and Estragon to wander in!  Frankly, being something of a anti-Peeps grouch these days, I was tempted to emigrate.  However, in the film, from time to time in the, er, storyline, a police post would suddenly appear in the middle of nowhere.  Then a bar, equally empty but where its customers would came from was a mystery.  Then, and this made me giggle, in the middle of all this empty nothingness, a 'knocking shop' appeared manned, or perhaps 'womanned' is more accurate, by five oriental girls.  In my admittedly brief meetings with 'Aussies', I have found them to be very sociable, particularly when the beers starts to flow, but the Aussies in this film could barely put more than two words together.  So, my appeal to my Aussie friends, if I have any left, is simple - is that the way things are in deepest, emptiest Australia?

 

Beware La France!   So there was this very decent British chap, wearing bright clothing and cycling along a well-used mountain cycle path in rural France and minding his own business when - bang! - suddenly a local hunter shot him dead!  I don't wish to make light of it because it was a double tragedy for the man on the bike - and the man with the gun.  Even so The Telegraph reports:

It is the latest in a series of hunting accidents in which people have been killed or severely wounded.  Last year a 59-year-old hiker was shot dead by a hunter in the southern Drôme department, and a woman sitting in her garden was killed by a stray bullet fired by a hunter.  In 2016, 18 fatal hunting accidents were reported in France.

Mon Dieu!

 

"O, wad some Power the giftie gie us":   To hear oursels as others hear us!  Yes, I think I need some advice from my old e-pal, 'Jimmy Glesga', on this story of a bust-up on Medway Council when an exceedingly Scottish councillor was asked to speak slower by an English councillor because he couldn't follow the words.  Needless to say, the Jock, originally from Glasgow (need I say more?), went off on one and whilst he didn't threaten to "put ma heed in wi' ma bonnet on' he did become exceedingly cross.  My sympathy is entirely with the other man who is, like me, half Scottish.  I listen regularly to 'TOOOORKSPOOOORT' in the mornings which features the very Scottish Alan Brazil sometimes accompanied by the even more Scottish Ally McCoist.  I would understand more listening to Radio Bulgaria!

 

What's the Chinese for 'I told you'?   Fascinating piece at Zero Hedge reporting that there have been sporadic outbursts of violence by ordinary home-owning Chinese because of the falls in property values.  The government is now scrabbling to do what it takes to stabilise prices but we all know how good governments are at that sort of thing!  Here in the west we are familiar with the ups and downs of market forces but in China where they are enjoying wealth undreamed of hitherto, the anger could be exceedingly rough!

 

'Mutti' Merkel might not feel too well tonight!   According to early reports based on exit polls, the voters of Bavaria just gave her and her party an almighty kick up the backside.  What's the German for 'ohdearwhatapitynevermind'?

 

 

No more rumbles today

 

 

Mary Midgely, 1919-2018, R.I.P.

I picked up this obit as I cruised The Telegraph and the name, sort of, rang some dim bells in that yawning chasm that is my memory.  As I have mentioned before, in my 40s I drifted into philosophy.  Alas, I did no more than paddle in the (very) shallow end because I lacked both the time and the brain to cope with the deep end!  At about the same time, I also became fascinated with Darwinian theory which, of course, has enormous philosophical ramifications.  It took that rather silly man, Richard Dawkins, to pick up the Darwinian 'ball' and attempt to kick his 'Selfish Gene' nonsense over the bar to score a goal.  Alas for him, amongst his very many intelligent critics was Mary Midgely who applied some much needed corrections to his theory - good for her!

I am severely tempted to buy one of her books but I dare not, my Kindle, already full to bursting, might explode!  Anyway, farewell to an exceedingly intelligent lady.

 

 

Yet again I bow to the superior wisdom of Mr. Quentin Letts

Dammit, these professional commentators can wrap up a ragbag of proposals, counter-proposals; policies, counter-policies; hot air, cold air, into as neat a parcel as you could wish for, and no-one does it better than the highly intelligent and very witty Mr. Quentin Letts.  Today, in The Telegraph he summarises the giant - Obscenity Warning! - 'clusterfuck' that Mrs. May has led us into in the so-called Brexit negotiations.  I confess that I have rarely held a high opinion of any government but the pathetic, cack-handed, amateurish and almost traitorous stupidity of her and her non-government is almost beyond parody.  The woman is not capable of running a Parish Council let alone Her Majesty's government.

Mr. Letts sums it up thus:

The Brexit drama has reached Act V, its denouement at hand. Mrs May’s aides spoke of the past seven days as ‘Hell week’, though every week for them must be a torment and the next may be even worse. She is finally having to make up her mind. Proper leaders embrace decision-making with a show of mastery.

Mrs May retreats into her hermit’s cave, bilious liquids seeping under the boulder she has rolled in its entrance. She is resentful, ineloquent, remote. What a deadly cabbage. Her lackeys in the appeasing Press accuse pro-Brexit Tories of being disloyal. She is the disloyal one. She is plotting to chain us to a hostile Brussels. She has betrayed the electorate and her party.

Her only success thus far is to make me think that perhaps, after all, Neville Chamberlain wasn't that bad!  Next week the Tory party, that is, the Tory MPs, must 'man up' and put an end not only to her all too obvious misery but ours as well.  Yes, I realise the dangers of a Corbyn government arising from the ashes but I'll grin and bear it because within a couple of years his chronic stupidity will be obvious to everyone.  However, better still would be for Boris, or someone, anyone, to take over the government and just head for the European exit no matter what!

 

Do NOT read this if you are of a nervous disposition!

No, I am not, as 'that woman' once put it, "frit" but I am becoming distinctly uneasy.  All around the globe the political tectonic plates are shifting and no-one has a clue where they will eventually end up and how much damage will be wrought as they crunch and crash against each other.

At home, here in 'dear old Blighty', our less than distinguished Prime Minister fumbles and stumbles her way through the morass of Brexit and her party appears to be in complete disarray.  I fear an election is imminent and, though I can hardly believe it, there is a very real chance that Corbyn and his 'praesidium' of ultra-Marxist maniacs might seize control.  If they do, I may well emigrate to St. Helena!  

Europe continues to be nothing more than "a mess of pottage"!  Quite apart from their arrogant stupidity in trying to humiliate us as we seek a reasonable Brexit, they are laying into the newly elected and highly passionate Italian government which is teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. At the same time they are, unbelievably, trying to bully one of the biggest bullies in Europe, Viktor Orbán, the Prime Minister of Hungary.  The chances of him, a 'wannabe' dictator, bending the knee to Brussels is less than that of an ice cube in hell!  Other East Europeans are already looking East rather than West preferring 'Vlad the Impaler' to EU fanatics like 'Junck the Drunk'.

Meanwhile, 'over there', the tensions mount and when our 'Yankee-doodle' friends lose their tempers, so to speak, you had better take cover!  The 'deserving' Dems, by which I mean that the Dems always believe they deserve everything all of the time, have found it impossible to reconcile their loss of the Presidency in 2016.  Their fires are now being stoked by the woman who really and truly thought she deserved to win because, well, it was her turn.  As the old saying has it, always beware a woman scorned!  Of course, 'The Donald' is not exactly a man to accept his victory quietly and to extend the gentlemanly hand of friendship to the woman who lost.  On the contrary, he struts his stuff across the headlines and the internet of the world, never losing an opportunity to rub it in.  Where will it end?  I do not know but the imminent result of the mid-term election will be critical.  If the Dems lose 'big time', or even if they only achieve a 'no-score' draw, their fires will be stoked even higher and the more extreme elements will indulge in even greater and more dangerous stupidity.

Needless to say, this is the worst of times for America to be obsessed with internal warfare as, what I call 'the Chinese creep' slowly but inexorably extends around the globe backed up by an increasingly powerful military.  There was a time when I had some hopes for Chairman Xi Jinping, the 'Mr. Smiley', or should that be the 'Mr. Smirky', of China.  Alas, no more!  It is obvious that he is just another wannabe ruler of the universe with the sort of insane ambitions that nearly always end in tragedy.  Whatever one might think about 'The Donald' I am totally glad that he is leading the push back against Chinese ambitions and not that utter drip 'Obamarama'!

In the meantime, the South American 'hacienda' is crumbling to dust, including, I am sorry to say, the once mighty Brazil which, you may remember, was the leading initials in the collective noun 'BRICS'.  According to a report I read today, the Brazilian people are having to choose between two utterly useless and extremist politicians of the worst type to be their next 'el Presidente'.  The rest of South America seems to be collapsing into financial disaster.  Across the oceans, Africa is now an A1, prize basket-case from top to bottom and from east to west.  Anything useful in that continent has already been bought up by the Chinese so the impoverished Africans will not even get a smell of it!  Finally, there is India, a country of truly enormous possibilities which, God help it, is now seeking friendship with Russia - yeeeees, well, good luck with that one!  In the meantime, their big - no ENORMOUS - cities are stinking cesspits in which, quite literally, the air you breathe will kill you!

So there you have it, my friends, 'Doomster Duff' strikes again!  My only advice is that if you have been saving up a rare bottle of Scotland's finest tipple for Christmas, fageddaboutit, knock the top off and drink it now!  Er, have a nice day!

 

 

In defence of Churchill

Regular readers will be aware that over recent months I have expressed some exceedingly critical thoughts concerning Winston Churchill which has irritated some of my readers.  However, I would like to re-emphasise that my criticisms were centred on several decisions he took as a minister in a WWI government and as the Prime Minister in WWII.  Others, such as those who were 'outraged, I tell you, outraged' when an American astronaut quoted Churchill and was well and truly pounded on the internet, dragged up the other, and more famous, accusations held against him.  I have never raised these because I simply do not know the facts - but I know a man who does - Mr. Andrew Roberts, the historian who has just published his biography of the Great Man which must bring the total number up to near a million biographies!

I will not try to paraphrase Mr. Roberts retaliation to these accusers, as published in The Telegraph, but merely cut and paste the essence of it:

There [in my biography] he would find that the gas Churchill wanted to use in Iraq was tear gas, not the lethal mustard or chlorine gas. He would find that Churchill insisted on cashiering the general responsible for the Amritsar Massacre, and risked his career in the House of Commons defending that decision. Mr Kelly would also discover that the Irish Churchill wanted to attack were armed IRA terror-gangs, not innocent protesters. And so on, and so endlessly on. 

[…]

Nor was he in any way responsible for the Bengal Famine, which began after a terrible cyclone hit Bengal in October 1942, destroying the rice crop on which the inhabitants depended, as well as many of the roads and railways needed to bring in supplies.  […]  When one goes to the original documents, one reads letter after letter from Churchill to the Viceroy and the Secretary of State for India suggesting measures to alleviate the suffering, and asking for grain shipments from President Roosevelt.  […]  The distinguished American historian Arthur Herman is not alone among historians in believing that ‘‘absent Churchill, India’s 1943 Famine would have been worse.”

Read the whole thing.  Happily, none of it crosses my criticisms of the old boy!

 

 

In which *our* Supreme Court 'done good'!

I cannot recall any words of praise from me to the 'Lordly Cocklecarrots' who sit on our judicial benches.  Usually, all they get from me is a pile of insults mixed with ridicule because all too often they appear to be as thick as the benches upon which they squat!  But today they get a full-blooded cheer from me for demonstrating some good sense, and more important, some good law.

In 2014, a homosexual ordered a decorated wedding cake on which he asked that the words "Support Gay Marriage" be 'written' in icing.  The owners of the bakery refused.  They were happy to make the cake but because the sentiment expressed in the message was against their fundamental beliefs, they refused to write it.  

The outraged homosexual then began, and pursued, a 4-year legal campaign against the bakery.  It has finally reached the Supreme Court who have come down firmly in support of the bakers.  The fact that Lady Hale presided raised my eyebrows because, although I can't quite remember the details of why, she remains in my mind as 'Cocklecarrot' of the first order.  If I am wrong, I apologise but in this instant 'the Lady done good'!

 

The Sunday Rumble: 7.10.18

I start the day with three hearty cheers!   And here is why.  First, the sun is shining which, I must admit, it has done pretty steadily for weeks and is yet another example of the truth that the sun shines on the righteous!  Second, (Sir) Lewis Hamilton won the Japanese Grand Prix by a mile - so what's new?  And third, and far and away the most important, those dim-dumb-Dems 'over there' found that their stupid, contrived plot which they undoubtedly thought was the 'cleverest clever thing' ever, collapsed on their silly heads.  Truly, it is good to be alive this Sunday.

 

Sorry, more Kavanaugh:   The last few days have been - and I choose my word deliberately - momentous for the USA.  Now there is a solid (small 'c') conservative majority on the Supreme Court which will not, I suspect, lead to any retro-active, revolutionary changes to existing law which is a pity because the despicable Roe v. Wade ruling needs to be changed in order to stop the wholesale massacre for profit of unborn children. However, what it will do is to provide, for considerable years to come, a safety barrier against the unconstitutional, socialist diktats likely to emanate from any Dem-controlled Congress in the future.  Now, if only old Granny Ginsberg, 102 (actually 85), could be induced to retire to her knitting then the 'Trumpeter' could seal his success in concrete with yet another constitutionalist on the Supreme Court!

 

My last word on the subject, er, until the next time!   I am grateful to Ms. Clarice Feldman at The American Thinker for publishing this summary of the trustworthiness, or otherwise, of Ms. Christine Blasey Ford:

She refused to hand over the results of her polygraph

She refused to hand over her 2012 therapist's notes

She said she was afraid to fly, but has flown dozens of times.

Since she did in fact fly, she offered no other reason for the delay

She said she wanted anonymity but contacted [the Washington Post] multiple times

Said she got advice from "beach friends" but didn't mention that the primary one was a former FBI lawyer, Monica McLean, who worked for Preet Bharara, a man Trump fired. She also failed to mention, when talking of her Beach friends at the hearing, that Monica was sitting right behind her.

She had a perfect memory of 1982 but couldn't remember basic things from the previous 10 weeks

She'd been drinking.

She changed the year of the alleged attack

She named 4 people, but had no backers

She couldn't remember how she got home even though her story had her escaping the house far from home, pre-cell phone.

She gave no location or any details that could be researched for verification.

She never told anyone and never claimed PTSD prior to Kavanaugh's name circulating 30 years later.

She said that she put the 2nd door on her house because of PTSD, but evidence shows it was to get around zoning laws to create a rentable apartment.

She said she didn't know that Grassley offered to come to her, even though it was broadcast nationally.

She feigned no knowledge of polygraphs even though her ex's sworn statement said she'd coached Monica McLean how to beat it in the 1990s, and in any case her profession should have at least well acquainted her with it.

She co-authored a paper on repressed memory creation years before she claimed to have one

Nothing is known of her pharmacology, but given her past alcoholism, her visits to a therapist and her general presentation, odds are high that it's extensive.

She scrubbed her social media. We know from a pussy hat photo that she was rabidly anti-Trump.

She had zero family or friends with her, not from the 80s nor from today. She was surrounded only by Democrat Party handlers.

Constant cries of bravery & "nothing to gain" vs a $700,000 GoFundMe and a career boosted a la Anita Hill

Literally all there is her word vs all of the above. Not a shred of evidence.

The defence rests, m' Lud!

 

Not all 'luvvies' are loonies:   Take Michael Caine, for instance.  The Telegraph did an in depth interview with him and this passage sums him up:

He’s self-made in the purest sense, surviving slums and trenches, pushbacks and heartbreaks, failure, discrimination, alcoholism and grief. He has strived, thrived, succeeded – professionally and personally.

I have mentioned before that he did a tour in Korea during that vicious war and he was as far 'up the sharp end' as you could get.  He has suffered more than his fair share of vicissitudes, including a brush with alcoholism, but has managed to achieve great success and wealth which he has used to benefit his family.  In other words, 'a proper geezer' as our Cockney friends might put it.

 

Now, about these bloody mince-pies:   It's wicked, I tell you, wicked!  On the very first day of October, practically three months before Christmas, my local Sainsburys put on display stacks of boxes of mince-pies.  And do you know, no matter how fast I eat them - which, of course, I only do to remove temptation from others - they keep replacing them.  What's the fancy Latin name for 'death by mince-pies'?

 

I'm not sure I have the courage to read it!   The formidable Peter Hitchens has written a book entitled "The Phoney Victory: The World War II Illusion" which, as I understand it, amounts to a major demolition of the myth that Winston Churchill was a great war leader.  Well, I lost that idea years ago, I think it started when I read the memoirs of the late Lord Alanbrook who served as his Chief of Staff for most of the war.  Churchill had some superb qualities but as a 'hands on' war leader he was almost criminally inept.  The only saving grace he had was that most of the people around him (but not Alanbrook) were even more useless! 

 

 

No more rumbles 

 

 

When ladies start spending - hide your wallet!

I have started digging a hole in my garden in order to bury my life savings - and it's no good coming round here with your metal-detectors because the tin containing the 'booty' is very, very tiny!  The reason for my fear is simple, Mrs. May, our beloved PM - er, she is beloved, isn't she? - has declared that "austerity" is over.  When PMs say that sort of thing you just know that they are going to emulate the infamous 'drunken sailor -  no, no, not you, JK! - and start spending money - my money, as I fondly think of it! - with tremendous enthusiasm in order to prove that they are not mean-minded 'nasties' grinding the faces of the poor into the ground.  They believe that by making such announcements they will suddenly become beloved of the dreaded 'Peeps', and they may well be right, given that the average level of intelligence amongst the 'Peeps' is smaller than the square root of -1.

I should add quickly, that I do not rate my own intelligence much higher but the advantage I have over most 'Peeps' is that I am an old geezer!  I have seen it, and felt it and suffered for it, all before.  This Tory government hasn't done much in the last few years but it can make one boast to the effect that it has inched very close to achieving a balanced budget and thereby reducing our need to borrow.  Of course, our national borrowing is 'yuuuuuuuuuge' and getting 'yuuuuuuuuger' because each minute of each day the interest racks up.  However, if we allow Mrs. May out on her own in the 'international High Street' with carte blanche to spend, spend, spend and borrow, borrow, borrow then all I can say is "be afraid, be very afraid!"

'Still 'n' all', as they say 'over there', it could be worse because letting a middle-aged, middle-class lady like Mrs. May out on a spending spree is one thing, but letting a decrepit, daft, old nincompoop like 'Jezza' out with the national credit card accompanied by a gang of Trots with the average age and acumen to be found in any Polytechnic students' club would see Britain closed and shuttered in double quick time. 

 

 

Carry on up the Kremlin!

Normally, I would not look to Russia for laughs.  The impression it gives is one of endless, dour, sad misery.  A lot of Russians would agree, you only need to listen to some Shostakovich to sense how deep the misery has sunk into their psyche.  Even so, they are more than capable of providing endless giggles to outside observers as the recent antics of their, er, Security Service  - who sniggered? - demonstrated.

First, we had the farrago of their attempt to murder one of their own which they cocked-up and instead succeeded only in killing a totally innocent English woman.  Her tragic death apart, the rest of it was pure 'Carry On' and all it lacked was Charles Hawtrey.  Now we have the hilarious report of the 'four Russian stooges' who came over to eavesdrop electronically on the headquarters of the Organisation for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons (OPCW) in The Hague.  They were nabbed because, apart from actually hanging "I am a Russian spy" sign round their necks, they made every possible error in the book!

The Dutch and British security forces picked up all their computers and phones and are now in possession of a veritable gold-mine of information about the workings of the GRU.  As the late, great Sid James would have put it in his deep-voiced, throaty chuckle, "Heh, heh, heh!"

 

 

The BBC is BS!

The other day I mentioned my deep desire for the BBC to be sold off to the highest bidder.  For years now it has been living off its old, former and decent reputation as a strictly neutral purveyor of news but that was then.  Now, it is a heavily slanted, opinionated purveyor of metropolitan group-think which the British people have to pay for whether they like it or not.

Today, Guido offers the demonstrable proof of BBC bias in the Brexit debate by analysing the political nature of the 'guests' who feature on the three main news discussion programmes - Question Time, Politics Live and Any Questions.

Since the start of the political season in September, 72% of the official panel guests across the three shows have been Remainers, while a mere 28% have been Leavers. A whopping 87% of the panels had a Remainer majority – only 13% of shows had a panel equally balanced between Leavers and Remainers. Not once have Leavers outnumbered Remainers. [My emphasis]

Sell it off to my ex-best friend, 'Rupe', or better still, just give it to him!

 

 

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

 

 

 

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!

 

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!

 

 

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.

 

 

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.

 

 

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.

 

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!

 

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!

 

 

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!

 

 

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!

 

 

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!

 

 

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?

 

 

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