Gunman Gunned

Chris Kaba was gunned down in the street by an armed Met policeman.  For over two years the police investigated, as they do automatically, the shooting.  Eventually, the case reached the 'Old Bailey' and the jury of 12 individuals from the London region declared him innocent.  And this after only 3 hours deliberation!

His family, and other racially motivated groups, are declaring justice has not been done.  The majority of people I suspect justice indeed has been done.

The Kamar chap was driving a car known to have been used in a previous days shooting in London.  When spotted the police gave chase and demanded the driver stop.  Instead he raced away, eventually driving with force into a police car.  On approaching the car, the driver not having got out, a police gunman suspected arms were about to be put to use, so he shot the driver.  

Today, a jury declared him innocent of murder.

The family cry 'unfair,' but now, after the trial is over, a video of Chris Kaba shooting another black man in a club the day before he was shot appears in public.  What we have here is not an innocent man shot by a callous racist officer, instead we see a criminal from a criminal family being shot dead for not obeying police suspicious a gun was ready to be used.

I'm with the police here.

The police commissioner claims some in the 'Black Community' do not trust the police, I think this is true.  Most however, do not carry guns, intimidate other young black men, and live worthwhile lives.

Only the criminal fraternity and the easily led will believe justice has not been done.  And that includes the many white middle class types on Twitter today attempting to encourage race hate.

I'm glad the officer has been cleared, I suspect some in the police will try to put him down never the less, I hope the Commissioner can stop this.

In Search of London, H.V. Morton

Yes I know, it's him again!

Yes I know you are sick of the sight of him.  Well, too bad, I think I may have seen another one in that online bookshop.

As you know, Morton worked for the 'Daily Express' from 1921 onwards, his tales of London earned him fame, but greater fame came from his 'scoop' from being at the opening of Tutankhamun's tomb in 1923.  His travel books made him famous and reasonably wealthy.  His middle class background enabled him to become a snob, and a patriotic one, when he wished to be.

I was somewhat surprised when opening this book as I was under the impression it would refer to London of the 1920s, however, he walked around, he says, the London of 1950/51, still an intriguing prospect, and gives us an insight of a London very different from that of the 20s.  The book was published in 1951.

Morton's London is London, that is to say, the City of London, and Westminster.  Only Hampton Court outside of this area gets much of a mention.  All the usual places are mentioned, St Pauls, the Tower, the Strand, Westminster Abbey, St James, Royal Parks, and Southwark, for historical reasons.  We follow the usual routine of descriptions of the building and are informed of the architecture, the architect, some people who made use of the place, a shock story here, a love story there, a chopped off head, a mystery, the usual historical tales always with Morton embellished with patriotism, romantic slant, and a belief in Empire and Glory.  H.V. is always willing to shed a tear for the men of Trafalgar or Waterloo, but appears to forget those of recent wars.  This when passing the Cenotaph.

An interesting view of the city is shown in the bombed out basements that surround St Pauls and the like.  Cleaned out after the war the land awaits redevelopment, and the basements are now places for kids to rummage amongst, finding shiny treasures long since lost during the Blitz.  Morton looks across the land that once housed people, offices, shops and clubs, now a view of distant churches is available. For us in the 21st century it is difficult to imagine those early 50's with a real austerity, as opposed to George Osborne's Tory greed one of recent years, grey skies and grey people recovering from war and rebuilding a new world.  

H.V. Morton was of course somewhat above all this equality business at the time.  

The author likes to give the impression that he is known to the great and the good.  A dean here, a curator there, appear willing to engage with him as he wanders a church or museum.  He likes to 'just happen' to meet people of influence.  Though much of this may be down to his personality, and the newsman's ability to make people talk to him.   

The fawning over the better classes continues for 428 pages, though it must be remembered that the King was still alive and the monarch was held in great esteem after the war.  Diana had not ruined the image at that time.  This is therefore a big book, with lots of interest in the historical tales, and the image of London in 1950 is quite strong.  This may be because I can imagine this quite well, others may not understand.  London today is very different in many ways, in others it remains a 2000 year old city, full of tales, much history, and a lonely expensive place.  This book speaks for London today, though most living there now may disagree.

This book is worth a read.

Talk Halted

 

I was going to regale you with talk of my coffee drinking in here today, however, due to circumstances beyond my control, housework, cooking, and sloth, I have not yet got around to it.  I could do it but time is pressing and you have little interest in how I accidentally made the coffee too strong this morning that my shredded brain has not unshredded itself as yet, and my eyes are still staring in a fixed manner straight ahead.

Another reason was the interruption to my day by time spent reading the story of an electric kettle on one young ladies splendid blog.  Through France to Costa as it were for a kettle!  Try it Bead.  

This followed on from a very interesting walk around Bermondsey with another young lady.  (I am open to any young female)  This captivated me and brought back memories from times past and is well worth a read, though I suspect you will have already read both these splendid works by now anyway.  

This, plus watching Saturdays football highlights, means time has run out and so my work here is finished for the day.

London Scots

At first sight I thought this would be an interesting look at Scotsmen in London during the Great War.  I was however, immediately disappointed.  The book is based on the work done at the St Columba's Church (Church of Scotland) in Chelsea, a prosperous area and thereby indicates the type of Scots we would be reading about.  

Many Scots followed James VI when he took on the role as James I of England.  They were not all welcomed then as now, but many prospered and fair to say the financial districts saw a great infusion of Scots blood, especially after the Lords were bribed and threatened to sell Scotland to England in 1707.  No money in Edinburgh for 50 years after that so they moved south.  Their Tory, Unionist descendants do similar to this day. 

I had hoped for a more detailed life of Scots at the time of the war but while we are given some information much of the book is based on the 'St Columba's Church Magazine of the time, reports of the London Scottish Rugby Club, the London Scottish Regiment, and similar Caledonian organisations. 

All these represent the middle classes in London, the lower orders not only not invited they could not afford the membership fees of many such glittering organisations.  This does not mean they were bad in themselves, it does indicate a small portion of Scots in London, it is not representative of all.

At the beginning of the war it was realised something needed to be done to aid Scots soldiers passing through.  The church, especially the women, you will know then type yourself, decided to be ready to help.  The various organisations in London aimed at Scots soon merged together, if not into one organisation, at least to work together for efficient aid to soldiers in the field, as well as to those passing through London.  Victoria Station was the main departure point for 'the front' and soon Scots troops were being herded to and from the church for a clean up, feeding, and provisioned as they went home on leave or returned to war.  

Indeed, a great and mighty effort was made by the church people here.  It appears their work became known in the line and soon 'sodgers frae a pairts' were awaiting the call at Victoria to be paraded into the church care.  Thousands from all Scots regiments, and one or two others with them, passed through the doors at Pont Street.  

There can be no doubt that whatever their real belief it is clear many a man was inspired, encouraged and developed a faith, or at least some hope, while worshiping in this church.  Especially those returning from leave.

While the various organisations fed the men in Chelsea, they also provided parcels for the front.  Many items taken for granted back home were much desired 'in the field.'  New socks by the thousand, 'Bovril' type cubes, sweets, soap, toothpaste, (many men had to be taught how to use toothbrushes at the time) and other items requested by the men when home were sent out.  Also on offer were newspapers from home, books and magazines, items designed to take the men's minds of the war while at rest (if they got any).  Vast quantities of such things were collected in a well organised fashion and despatched to regiments and individuals. 

Not just the troops out in the line, but also those who were Prisoners of War (POW), some who were so badly injured they were returned home via Switzerland. 

One small objection is the limited time given to the tales of individuals. Partly this is because little is known, partly because such research, as I can tell you, takes time.  Those mentioned on the memorials in various clubs and organisations get a mention: this one born here, educated there, worked in this bank, enlisted, commissioned and shot July 1917, sums up far too many tales.  I want more details, but this is asking a lot from such a book.  The toll of the war is however, clear throughout.  Many passed through the church care, received the gifts and parcels sent out, and never returned.  As many were from the right background and had attended schools that had Officer Training Cadets these men would soon be at the front in charge of 40 or more men.  As junior officers, 2nd Lieutenant, Lieutenant and Captain, they went first at all times and discovered that such officers had the least chance of survival on the Western Front.  Thus the names mentioned were almost all officers, or privates awaiting their commission.  

One section deals with General, later Field Marshall Douglas Haig.  Coming from a Presbyterian Scots background it is no surprise to find him declared an Elder in St Columba's.  One chapter discusses his faith, was it a 'born again faith' or a nominal one.  Some suggest his faith was based on whether God supported him in the war or not and this may well be the case.  Unlike many, I doubt he struggled through scriptural analysis before deciding to fight the war.  He did support the idea of Chaplains to the forces, mostly because they told the men they were on the side of 'right!'  I am unsure of the theology behind this however.  Clearly Haig was popular at the church, he supported it as expected and received much support from the people himself.  In 1928, when he died his body lay in state at the church before travelling to Edinburgh for burial.

While this is an interesting book with many items worth noting, it is quite disappointing regarding the personal thoughts of the many men who passed through, and clearly while their immediate response was positive there are so many gaps to fill.  Overall the book appears like a collection of end of term reports, quite satisfactory but not giving the whole story.  It has its place but not for everyone.

Walk the Lines, by Mark Mason

This is another result of Christmas and birthday book vouchers.  A trip to Waterstones and sever books later back home to work the way through them all.  As I am reading three or four at once it does not always flow, at last one is finished. 

The basis of this book is simple.  The writer takes note of the different Underground lines, marks them out on a map, he is obsessed with maps, and then walks along the streets and byways that are covered by each individual line.  Clearly he is young, clearly he is fit, clearly he is off his head.

I like the idea.

Beginning with the Victoria line our hero walks from one end to the other, offering small talk, descriptions of stations, conversations with individuals, and vague history as he passes.  This is good and quite enjoyable, especially when involving stations, streets, and situations we have all met with.

He then walks across all lines, visiting all stations, and describing the changing scene from built up London, rich London, depressing Harrow, and a vast number of green areas within the city itself.  

The only problem I encounter with the book is that after a while it all becomes somewhat 'same.'  That is, one line sound just like another, one street like one passed before.  This is because he has taken on too big a job.  Such an adventure featuring one line only could have investigated the much deeper, offered many more tales of past adventures, crimes and mishaps, and become a more enjoyable read.

However, the sheer size of London, as our friend Fun has shown, means it takes a much deeper enquiry into the locale before we get the best out of the city.  This is not to disparage the effort here, on the contrary, it reveals how wide and full the whole of 'London' actually is, and it is not just a spot somewhere in the centre seen regularly on postcards, TV and rubbish films.

The people met along the way can be interesting, though an artist who makes cakes would have been better thrown from the top of the former Nat West Tower Putin fashion rather than entertained.  

The whole of the Greater London area covered by the Tube lines, meaning much of the south over the Thames is ignored, reflecting the wide divergence of people, dwellings and high streets that make up the conurbation.  London, like all towns and cities, has its own atmosphere. not always pleasant, but it is an enticing place to live.  It is also overcrowded, full of pig ignorant people, far too much traffic, and expensive.  For instance, to live in the residence I once occupied many years ago, allowing for much improvement to the place, would require around £500 a week to live there.  This, plus gas, electric and all those other costs is not something everyone can afford.  

The book is well worth a read for anyone who has lived there, it is well written, even allowing for his 'interesting' thought processes as he tries to understand and comprehend what London actually is, and a good book to read, one line at a  time.  Published in 2011 but not yet out of date regarding most lines and their happenings.  I recommend it.   

1908

Bank Holiday Bread, by Tube

Having decided on a quiet Bank Holiday Monday, I foolishly read 'The Venomous Bead.'  This, as you possibly will find when reading, led to a desperate and urgent desire for lots of white bread.  At least this began the day with a laugh, though while laughing at others efforts, made worse by the man in the house being helpful, is of course wrong, I still managed to enjoy reading this stuff as I always do.  

My rising early, and shops don't open until 10 am on Bank Holidays, I was forced to wait until the did before dragging myself slowly out the door.  Early had by now become after 10:35 and traffic was rushing too fast to be first into the supermarkets before the crowd.  The crowd were already in the car park!  

I walked to Tesco down the splendid Avenue, the best road in town, home of some lovely homes all built about 1881, I know this as they missed the census of that year but houses appear in 1891.  The chill in the air noticeable after the warm weather of the summer.  Suddenly the east wind, coming originally from the north, disturbs the warmth in the air and reminds us of a normal UK summers day.  The beaches and the sewage filled sea will be packed of course.  Interesting that Tory 'Environmental spokesmen' are now saying the nation ought to 'rough it a bit' instead of complaining about sewage in the drinking water!  Tory Britain!  Poison the water to save money for the shareholders and expect the nation to drink it and shut up!  

I passed the retired solicitor filling his Jaguar with kids seats, clearly the grandchildren have forced him out for the day, elsewhere blinds were still drawn, and as we neared the store an occasional mum holding hands with a son passed by.  Quite a few were out and about in fact, kids do not like lying about indoors. 

Shopping only for bread I paid my £21:95 into the self-service machine, the young lass only having to aid me twice, and left with my heavier than expected bag.  Who put that whisky in my basket?  

Talking of London Underground, I have been enjoying 'Fun'  as she wanders the Jubilee Line, though I still think of it as the Metropolitan, though it became the Bakerloo in 1939 and the Jubilee in 1979.  Quite why I think this way I know not.  However, she ends this line with a grand tour of the rich at the outskirts of London, well worth a read.  

The 'Tube' was always a place of adventure.  Some packed stations, Oxford Circus and Piccadilly for instance, some interesting designs both outside and in, and often interesting people.  The word 'interesting' there can be read in many ways.  The aroma of burning air as the train approached deep underground was always memorable.  The aroma of some passengers similarly.   A strange job driving underground all day.  While most trains find some light occasionally the Circle has limited opportunities so see the sun.  Boarding at Royal Oak, while HSTs departing Paddington belched diesel fumes over us all, and being crushed, if indeed we could get on, is always memorable, especially as we always had to stand and wait while the Paddington train got through to Edgeware Road before us.  Joy I call it, but the young ladies I often accidentally were forced up against may have felt differently.  Who can tell?  Well, apart from the creaming and hitting with their shoe I mean.  I miss this in many ways, the Underground I mean, not the screaming... 

London's Most Splendid Churches

Waterloo to Southwark - Most Excellent London History Walk

Walking the Streets...

At first I considered these 'walking tours' somewhat absurd.  A man carrying a camera wanders along the streets filming as he goes, revealing a city or whatever from the ground, as a tourist would see it.

Then I discovered I was hooked!

There are problems with these videos, one concerns London.  Walking around London, and there are many of those as you will guess, involves meeting Londoners.  These ignorant, rude people who walk into you as if you do not exist, cut in front of you, barge past you, and generally make me glad I am now in this wee market town, appear regularly on the videos.  One other problem, the man with the camera will insist on turning the wrong way!  I wish to turn to the left, he goes right, and there is nothing you can do about this!  

However, for someone suffering Lock Down it is a window on the world, and they do cover a good part of the world now, and while you may wish them to walk down different streets or check the notices on old building more many of these are worth a look.

This half hour one covers the city of London.  Clearly he was there on a Saturday as the place is quiet.  Masses of blue suited smart people, they say, fill the area normally, making use of the pubs and clubs, cafes and grossly overpriced restaurants while seeking to do deals and make money.  So many would be happier moving out and getting a life instead!

Once upon a time I had some knowledge of the streets, watching this glass fronted, disgusting tower block filled place all I had was neck ache!  Far too many old buildings have gone, too many disgusting ones have arrived, though many from the late 19th century were pretty drab also.  The more interesting ones, where you really have to look up to see carvings and insignia, were missed!  Bah!

Worth a look for anyone who has been there or wishes to avoid entering the den of iniquity.

 Alex

London Musings

One thing I found strange about Saturday was how much I enjoyed London.  This I did not expect.  In my mind it was still overcrowded, pushy, selfish and far too busy, which indeed it remains but even so I found I quite enjoyed it.
One problem I always hated, increasingly as time went by, was the sheer distance you have to travel sometimes to get somewhere.  While public transport is generally good it takes for ever to get about.  When working in North Finchley it could take nearly two hours to get home, travel at night via the 'tube' could take just as long including changes on the way.  For one day it was OK but to do this regularly does my head in.  I suppose the travel being straight forward on Saturday eased my little head in this.  I also found the train busy but not too much so that helped, bus travel might have been slower with traffic problems.  
London does offer a great deal however when living there work interfered with this.  Having spent a week amongst the miserable workforce the thought of trailing out somewhere lessened somewhat if distance or rain or cost was involved.  The need to eat, buy food or other essentials all cut into the time available, this along with the need to pay for everything lessened the enjoyment of London.
At the weekend I began to think how much of me remains in London.  Possibly, like so many others, I remain in 'my London' not the one that actually exists around me.  It seemed to me living there was not such a bad idea after all, there is so much to do, so many places to go, a huge city all around.  
Reality however demands half a million for a poky flat, huge costs to live, and then the reality of Londoners themselves.  Daily life in reality is not like that in the imagination.
London however does make this area look boring even if we can actually see the sky! 

 

Rambling...

An old foto that caught my eye at the time.  I wonder where I was?  
The media is so poor today.  Holiday time allows for 'fake news' to arise but all we see are deaths, rapes, crime and absurd folk doing things that kill them or others.   The good things don't sell papers and anything good is always made sickeningly sweet that it makes you puke.  Sentimental rubbish, girls boobs or death and destruction fill the dying press, yet little knowledge regarding the Brexit collapse that will soon be upon us.  I already have three tins of corned beef in the stockpile!

 
I know where I took this, Spitalfields before the middle classes gentrified the place.  Now the run down houses and derelict market are full of trendies with expensive tastes.  Offices blocks and refurbished houses, very expensive, abound and of course Liverpool Street Station is round the corner.  Weavers have been here for hundreds of years and many buildings reflect something of this. Who inhabited these I know not but I love the shutters, especially the ones that block just half the window.  What a great way to keep people out.  Some of these go back to Georgian times and I understand one or two are preserved in aged fashion and these would be worth a visit if ever up that way.  Spitalfields huge church was used for many years as a place for down and outs (a much better term than homeless) but these were removed as indeed were the rotting coffins in the crypt (a messy venture I have somewhere on a video) and now the place is a glowing marvel.  I wonder if God is there now?

The little darlings enjoyed themselves today, except for one three year old who was removed by an irritated grannie who decided the darling was not behaving correctly, and as always happiness reigned.  Busy day with kids and mums, phone calls and making mistakes, visitors and their questions.  Then it is home to stare at the laptop wondering why there is no football on!  
Poor show this.

 

Meandering Waffle

I managed to survive the big day on Sunday, 'Textile Day' was a roaring success and by a clever trick I survived this day - I stayed at home!  It appears the multitudes did arrive, did spend money, did buy loads of cards in handfuls, did gossip, admire and altogether have a real good time.  I had better, I stayed in bed.
Tuesday however I was warned of a group arriving to visit, this soon occurred.  One woman arrived just after ten when she claimed they all would be meeting, ignoring the women gathering outside.  Eventually another woman arrived and then they came together to the prearranged meeting with one of my many bosses.  However still they women arrived, all of dubious ages, as there was a second group meeting here but not informing us, and they happily gathered themselves together slowly until they all arrived much later than planned.  It was however not their fault.  
This at a time when we have just begun to replace the heating system therefore half the museum is out of bounds.  Plumbers and staff, not me I must not leave my post, spent the day moving, clearing, carrying and hiding things while I attended to the ladies.  

While one meeting went quickly, as quickly as any all female meeting can go, the other group sauntered around examining each item and discussing its merits and meaning. I did not listen in, I had my own opinions.  The girls happily spent much time on each exhibit, and some it must be said are very well done, before coming in to the shop on the way out and spending money!  This was pleasing.  Such exhibitions do not attract great crowds during the year so to see groups making the most of them and enjoying themselves, and they appeared happy, was a good thing.

The laptop has been playing up.  It has been running slow and I have run all the proper items to speed things and also removed and altered other items.  On top of this the online banking has not allowed me in, so I must spend time changing all the info to see how much I have not got.  All this takes time as I also have been sorting out all the items on those memory sticks which are lying around.  These have become somewhat confused and there are several items (big items) on more than one disk and often twice on that!  
During this process, in between the grunts, swear words and oops I've closed it down somehow, reactions I have been discovering old pictures.  This one taken at Sandbanks a while back.  How lovely to be there when the sun shines, or indeed at other times.  At one time I considered moving there but it never felt right, which is a pity as I miss the sea and friends are there, but they at least are happy so that is one thing I suppose.

This Lightship was based at St Katherine's Dock positioned as you can see near Tower Bridge.  These one time busy docks had been transformed into residences of a variety of ships and the warehouses around contained shops etc and flats above for the upcoming rich.  In the late 70's I wandered down Wapping High Street, until then I had always known High Streets as laces full of shops and businesses but here I discovered, in between the empty spaces left by WW2 bombing, towering warehouses on both sides of the street.  A bit run down and seedy with the occasional burnt out church or ruin but quiet enough at the time.  How many people worked alongside these buildings?  How many famous or predecessors of famous people walked up Wapping Steps off shipping in days gone by.  How many foggy London nights saw ships rocking gently in the tide?  In the 70's all this had gone, only an occasional moored barge on the far side reflected the distant past. When I wandered there in the 90's these warehouses were now expensive flats with their own 'Oddbins' wine shop at the foot in easy reach for the trendy residents.  The two up, two down, houses of the late Victorian era had not survived the council planners even if they had survived the blitz.  Modern housing, expensive at that, filled the area outside the ex-warehouses and sleek cars sped past where once growling lorries or horse and carts had pulled their loads.  

Now you folks with any sense will regard this picture as boring.  There is a reason for this, it is a boring picture!  It is one I took some 20 years ago when I first had the bike and sauntered out around the area looking at the sky, dangerous on a bike, and watching green fields with strange crops therein.  Having sent so many years in the concrete jungle this was refreshing to the eyes and the locals could not see it because it was just always there!  I could see it and enjoy it, no matter how boring such pictures appear to be.  All around that road there were fields, they must be similar today, crops pushing into the sky cheering the farmer and possibly encouraging wildlife.  I am not so sure such fields help wildlife myself though the number of fields left fallow under EU rules has meant these fields do encourage birds and bees and other creatures to thrive.  I did however here a warning that rabbits, once covering the UK have disappeared from many areas.  In Scotland some 80% of rabbits have gone, about 60% in the rest of the UK.  Why I did not hear but many birds are also failing, sparrows are less in evidence and the Swifts that must soon appear are less in  number each year.  Maybe people have taken to eating rabbits rather than use foodbanks...?

A Foggy Day in ...

The mist descended today to remind us it was January.  After a quick stroll to Tesco I ventured out into the dank climate to remind myself that I ought to have stayed indoors.

I spent time indoors where the warmth was preferred scanning in pictures for my niece.  This done I also added some old fotos that I will annoy you with later.  It is amazing how long it takes to search for and then scan a few photographs.  The ones you seek are in the last album you search through and the ones you remember as near perfect are as far from that as I myself am.  That is quite far...

Amongst the old photos was this one.  A mostly red brick building with a great deal of fancy brickwork indicating the wealth of the company that created this artistic façade of green, gold and silver tiles in 1903.  What was once a Gas & Electric engineers company is now a mere art gallery, the 'Woolff Gallery.'  At the time I took the picture, probably on my way home through the back streets rather than by bus as this was quicker in the evenings, the street contained many interesting buildings which I ignored.  These can be seen on Google maps however.  The business died a while back and the art gallery moved in and changed its name to T.J. Boulting, which makes sense.  Many buildings in London, and indeed elsewhere, carry adverts still that go back into the distant past and it requires the head craned upwards all the time to find them.  Not far from Oxford Street this area is called 'Fitrovia,' this includes the 'Fitzroy Bar' once frequented by Dylan Thomas.  One cartoon featured this bar with one of those Blue Plaques given to the famous this time situated under a table in the bar with "Dylan Thomas Lay Here" inscribed thereon.

Miles away from there but down the road from the Maida Vale Hospital where I spent many a happy hour and occasionally worked also stands Lords Cricket Ground the home of the MCC whoever they are.  Outside the ground stands proudly this mural created in 1934 featuring sportsmen of various talents, clearly not something seen by cricketers of recent years.  Not that those who played cricket in the past held to high standards either of course.  The noble sportsmen, portrayed as something you may expect to see on the Parthenon rather in St Johns Wood, speaks volumes for those who created this mural.   The sculptor was Gilbert Bayes.

All that sunshine in London and we wake up to this!  In spite of the mess that London offers there is a wealth of interesting streets to walk down, history, people, events, many of which I would avoid at the time can be imagined all around.  If only most of the population were out when I pass through.

Look up!

For many years I have been a believer in 'looking up.'  This is because whatever is happening on the ground around at the moment the sky above continues on its daily routine.  The sun rises and makes its slow way across the sky brightening and warming the land.  (Those living in Edinburgh will no doubt find this difficult to believe)  Had we been born in Egypt we would notice this daily except every 16 to 20 years when excessive rain will fall and change our lives for a week or so and this sunshine would affect us in ways I cannot explain having been brought up under a gray misty cloud!
Today I noticed the bright blue sky smeared with distant white cloud high above stretching for miles across the heavens.  The starkness of the trees minus their covering of leaves against the bright blue was a notable feature for me.
High in the branches of the trees starlings chirped and argued with one another happily as is their way, unseen behind the blue stars and planets continued their daily journey hidden to us, and while we fought to the death for bargains in overcrowded shops the world continued to turn and those of us not seeking bargains smirked to one another at the thought.  
Whatever small issues we have the world keeps turning.

ISIS in an effort to prove they are still alive and kicking have attacked a mosque containing many of an Islamic creed they despise.  The attack, featuring around 40 gunmen, killed at least 250 and wounded many more.  The Egyptian Sinai has been dangerous for many years and I suspect the army will now be sent in with great force and little consideration for human rights to deal effectively with the problem.  This will be a long hard battle with consequences unknown and a great many will suffer.
Some cynical types would claim that the Bush/Blair needless attack, inspired by Rumsfeld and Cheney, was the originator of much of the trouble in the middle east, they might be right.  Maybe it is better to say they failed to handle the situation correctly or with any understanding of the area in which they operated so confidently and allowed such a situation to develop.  Now ISIS have been forced out of Iraq we will see them rising, possibly for only a short time, here there and everywhere for the next few years.  The west has failed the middle east and we will feel the effects.

 
Zimbabwe now has a new president informing them of the need to 'engage the world' (That is 'borrow money') and 'remove corruption' (Not counting his) and 'create jobs' for the young (Fat chance).  We look to see whether a politicians promises will bring about a better nation or whether the usual suspects continue to line their pockets and leave the people to suffer.  It s to be hoped the people this time make a stand and find changes that benefit them all and not just a few.  Interesting to see most of those in charge are well aged and the nation mostly young, how will that work?

Panic they say in Oxford Street as claims of gunshots are heard.  The brave Londoners run for cover!
"No shots" say the police.
Could it be the brave Londoners are panicking?  Tsk!

Laugh or Weep?

The 7:40 is heading for Waterloo and as it Passes Parsons Green a man stands up and begins to read from the bible and speak to the packed commuters on the train.  He mentions, so we are told repeatedly, 'homosexuality as a sin,' and 'Death is not the end.'  
At this the brave Londoners began to panic. 
A woman screamed and several began to prize open the doors and jump out onto the trackside.  The driver realising the danger called in and the power on the line, all electric on this line, was turned off ensuring the passengers (sorry 'customers') were safe and the entire line brought to a halt and hours of delays ensued.
As panic grew a man asked the preacher to stop and the guard arrived to speak to the man.  As the train continued, some power must have been returned, into Wimbledon he was spoken to calmly by the police.  No charges were brought, the guard congratulated on his approach and the many users of the railways out of the UK's busiest commuter station inconvenienced.

  
Well MR Khan I think you mistook the attitudes of those commuters hurtling in at 80 miles an hour yesterday morning.  They have not given the impression that they are 'Not broken' but have offered a glimpse of people either naive, ignorant or plain stupid!  
I accept that for most the bible is not a book they have read, nor have most been forced to attend a Sunday School of some kind when young and as such the nation is clearly bible ignorant.  However most understand the basics of Christian teaching, most in London have come across a 'preacher' in the streets, on a bus or train or in a large complex at one time or another, how come this lot failed to understand?  The pictures on offer do not show uneducated people leaving the train, a common lot of commuters only, yet they open the doors and flee!  A brief read of the good book will often force fear into people when the truth about judgement appears, many refuse to accept this and prefer the safety of the life we keep in our heads rather than allow eternity to break in however that was not happening here.  This was a confusion between the bible and the Koran.  These people could not understand that this man was not going to blow them up, his words spoke to them like ISIS had appeared in front of them!  The ignorance displayed takes some beating in my view.  

  
There is another reason for the panic and this can be traced back to Tony Blair and the deliberate attempt to increase awareness of Islamic terrorism.  During the years of the IRA Provos and their bombing campaign many bombs were left in stations and other public places yet the government propaganda never encouraged panic, indeed the opposite was the case but not now.
Blair even had 'Ferret tanks,' totally useless against terrorist attacks, placed outside Heathrow Airport just for a publicity stunt, what a waste of an army that was!  Today the fear has been raised both by government offerings and screaming headlines in the 'yellow press.'  
Of course there is a need to be wary of individual or organised ISIS type attacks at the moment but hysteria is not an answer.  This generation is not the one that either lived through a war or grew up in the years after one, no this generation has no concept of 'Getting on with it as there is no other choice' nor do they have the ability to be calm in difficult situations.  I would be far from calm in a bomb situation myself but I suggest most of us would react without panic if a preacher, even one with a koran stood up and spoke.  Two world wars, a couple of depressions and Margaret Thatcher yet let someone quote scripture and panic sets in.  What a world.

Today's Thoughts

DM

The afternoon has been taken up with failing to make Macaroni Cheese the way mum used to make it, though mine will bring a lump to my throat, and watching the ongoing constantly repeated coverage of the incident at Westminster.  

Here it appears a gent, large,brown and violent, drove an SUV car into people on the bridge hitting many, forcing at least one into the River Thames, and then crashing into more, possibly a policeman near the entrance to the House of Commons.  From the car he, and possibly one other, entered the MPs entrance waving a knife, two officers stopped him, one was knifed and died at the scene in spite of efforts to save him.  The assailant was warned twice by armed officers then shot.  He also died at the scene.

There is a possibility another man, possibly white, was involved and searching continues around the massive complicated Houses of Parliament.  The House itself ceased work and all members were ordered to remain in the chamber, no-one to move in short.  The Scots parliament, involved in tough Indy2 debate, also ceased work when the news reached Edinburgh.

Now we must cut down another forest to allow the gutter press to talk for days about the 'Terror,' 'Shock,' 'Fury,' and 'Outrage' that will allow them to enjoy smearing as many as possible and giving no thought to those involved.  They will only be seen as opportunities for sensational or sentimental stories rather than treated as people.  

The usual suspects have already blamed Muslims and are demanding they are all sent home, whether he is Muslim is not yet clear though from what I can make out it is likely.  The inept attack, the wild crashing into random crowds, the knife attack all speak of amateur responses to ISIS videos rather than an organised considered attack.  The truth will be known soon enough, I suspect the police already known where he lived and have the place stuffed full of officers.  Muslim people are also quick to provide information, though this is not always mentioned by the media.  I suspect it would be better to keep that info secret.

  

London will carry on as normal in such circumstances, most places would do so.  Such attacks hurt a few, cost the life of the attacker or end up in long prison sentences.  On no occasion does it alter government policy.

That policy lies behind such attacks however.  While this man may be Arab he possibly is Pakistani.  We cannot tell, there are so many places he could originate from.  However the British then the US abused the Middle East giving no concern for the people and caring only for the oil.  In recent days Iran caused worries, then Iraq, now we have left Iraq broken, Syria devastated for no reason and Iran and Saudi thinking of waging war directly.  We either bomb them or encourage them to bomb one another, why should they care about the west?

  

Now there will be tears and wailing throughout the West yet almost nothing concerning the starving in Yemen, a war we allow them to continue with, or Somalia, they are just a waste anyway is that not right?  Millions may be starving at deaths door but this event will take what little is on the screen off and allow us to concentrate on poor us - for a change.

How we suffer.

Mixed Bag

I came across this squirrel one day in Kensington Gardens.  The poor thing appeared to be suffering from a cold and as I had a packet of 'Lockets' those honey throat sweets as I had recently had similar I offered one to the greedy creature.  he took it happily and sat chomping away, and breathing better, on this branch.  I left another at the foot of the tree for him as I suspected he would require more.  I was surprised that he accepted the sweet as they are not in fact very sweet and are very strong, I thought too strong for him.  I was wrong.  The beast appeared happier and so was I.

'Ally Pally'  a city set on a hill and seen for miles around.  A white elephant writ large.  I don't think this has ever been of much use to the world.  Alexandra Palace was opened in 1873 (rebuilt after a fire in 1875) as a counterpoint to the 'Crystal Palace' now resident in south London.  The main aim was an entertainment centre but I am not sure it was a success.  In 1936 the BBC TV made use of it as a TV studio, awfully well spoken announcers in evening dress and limited programming and even limited audiences.  It was possible for the TV folks to walk round the town and shake hands with all the viewers if they wished.
The war, this occurred in 1939 look it up, put an end to TV transmissions but the Ally Pally was used by the BBC for a while after the war for both Radio & TV, the aerial towering above is still in use, but when the BBC found other studios the Palace was handed over to a multitude of wide ranging organisations and is still in use for pleasure purposes today.  I would go but I canny be nothered climbing the hill.
I took this poor snap from a friends top floor flat which looked over the wide expanse of London.  The sights at night must be terrific and the fireworks displays are best seen from up here.  It is a shame the flat was expensive to run and a bit pokey and she moved to a more sensible rented accommodation.  How the rich live!

     
One night in the London Favela I got bored and attempted to burn the place down by making use of candles to save electricity, it did not work.  The place did not burn, no insurance was handed out and I saved no money.
Sometimes I wish I  had kept hold of that old Leica.  However it was a bit awkward to use and 1938 cameras do not do digital.  Just think how recently we made use of those wee canisters of film.  It appears like another world where the old fashioned process of developing and printing took so much time and effort while now we can in minutes rather than wait a week or so we can decide we have taken rubbish pictures!  One great step for mankind.

 Time to hit the road, something I often did when cycling...

The Church at the Gates of Heaven, almost...

I've been tidying up the cupboard.  I now have a box half full of old photographs and a large bundle of these set aside to scan into this infernal machine.  How lucky you will be to see pictures taken in the days of the distant past.  Lots of them!
This one of course is Tynecastle Park Edinburgh which you will recognise instantly.  Many moons ago the huge board announcing the home of the Heart of Midlothian stood here but for reasons of crass stupidity this was removed during reconstruction work.  This reconstruction was under way as I passed and we can see inside only because the stand at this end had not yet been built.  I believe it is now home to Mr Smith, author, raconteur and wit, of our acquaintance a man who is lucky enough to sit here weekly and even luckier enough to write about what he sees in the local free press.  Good for him!  Recently it has been announced that the old stand to the right and out of the picture is to be rebuilt.  This will increase the ground capacity and stop folks worrying needlessly re the safety of the present structure.  It is said this stand was completed late in 1914 as the men working on it ran off to enlist in the army at the outbreak of war, a story I have not found evidence for but it does appear likely.

 
This was I thought a rather delightful shot of St Giles Kirk when I found it but age has ruined the dark bits somewhat.  However turning it into B&W has helped to create a nice enough image of Edinburgh inn the gloom, when is Edinburgh not in the gloom?   Edinburgh is so hard to get to nowadays.  I have nowhere to sleep, no transport and no money so I could make use of the bus pass all the way to Berwick on Tweed and walk from there I suppose?  Maybe that is a bit too far?  I could spend three or more hours in Stansted Airport for a one hour flight and get the bus in from their, or travel by train to Kings Cross and travel by train for six hours or so to Waverley Station.  Just thinking about it all makes me wonder if it would be worth while, especially now the cold east wind is hurling wind up my trouser leg.  I might just wait till Spring, the Haar eases of then and the gloom lightens up somewhat.

It is difficult enough to travel to London just now let alone Edinburgh.  Each weekend for the next couple of months (which means until Spring) they are working on the lines so all trains are replaced by buses from Chelmsford onwards, that's normally a 45 minute journey!  No weekend in the 'Big Smoke' (Smokeless now so what to call it?) for me these days.  In time all this will lead to an improved service or at least that is the hope but the cynical commuter puts things differently!  It does not take much to disrupt a train service, one man stood in front of one just outside the station and argued with the driver for 45 minutes because of a ticket problem.  The friendly travel police took him away.  No train service can be satisfactory all the time but privatisation has made it worse and that is the ideology driving this Tory government today.  Things will only get worse!

 
I wonder where that is?
It looks a bit Londonish to me but I have no recollection of taking this picture.  It is possible I took it on my travels but who knows.  I quite like it.
You can tell I have not got out, not that there is anything to see around here just now.  Instead I cleaned the fridge (bi-annual event) and sorted these pictures.  I ripped up and dumped hundreds in a cruel but required exercise today.  Most were duplicates, many were children unknown belonging to friends, many more were our lot and not worth keeping now and others were just rubbish.  The wheely bin will be heavy next time dustman!  
Work tomorrow, someone skiving off again!