Now I'm Not One to Complain, But..

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Recently I have settled down at 6:30 to watch Michael Portillo's travels around the UK rail network. A delightful little programme that took us away from the stress of life and showed us some interesting and attractive parts of the UK. Last Friday was the last in the present series of this programme. Yesterday I awaited with baited breath the replacement offering, anxious to know if it could match Portillo's offering. I was not pleased. Indeed pleased I was not! After such an enjoyable programme one wishes the quality to continue, and while I was aware that this series involved a chap driving around the nation in his ageing Voltswagon Camper van I was not too pleased to discover he was another cook! Yes another cookery show! Why? There are chefs and cooks on motor bikes, in kitchens, black ones, drunk ones, sexy ones and even fusty ones, now we have yet another one who's gimmick is an old van! Touring the land he looks for material which 'just happens' to be there and then cooks it, woopee! At times like this I understand why Americans carry guns! Soap operas, dramas that are soap operas, and cooks! That sums up the telly these days. Enough of this pap, give us back proper programmes! 


At least the sun shone today and I got the bike out and trundled around the back streets for half an hour. Later my exercise regime continued with a walk along the old railway and tomorrow, if the rain holds off I will cycle much more. How much better life feels when the sun shines and the sky is blue. Chilly it may have been but we are creatures of light and respond to the sun. If only I had an escape in the Mediterranean!


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TV Football

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Amazon

After watching those parts of 'Match of the Day' that I did not miss by lying in my kip, I later spent much of the day watching football. At one of the clock we suffered the dreary Swansea versus Cardiff City derby that was supposed to be a humdinger of a game. It was rotten! Typical English (and Wales is merely a county of England isn't it?) football, over rated and dreary. A damp squib. Before it finished I logged in to the BBC online to watch proper football, the Scottish Cup tie between lowly Aberdeen and even lower Dunfermline. It was rotten also! This game was dreary and made worse by the Dons gaining a 'jammy' goal in the very last minute. Sickener! The TV coverage from Aberdeen was much better than that from Swansea mind. Down south it appears that constantly showing close up's of every player became a real drag. There was far too little of the game and far too much backs of players heads for my liking. I loudly informed the director of his mistake but he appeared not to listen. At least the BBC in Scotland watched the game and not the 'celebrities' involved. (I use the word 'celebrities' wit a large pinch of salt in Aberdeen!). Still it could be worse, I could have been there and paid money! Even worse it could have been what some call a 'Super Bowl!' No thanks to that!

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Ozymandias

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Ramses II

Ozymandias 

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: `Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear --

"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

Percy Bysshe Shelley




Poem Hunter
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Egypt

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Independent

Egypt, one of the most important nations in the Middle East, is usually just ignored in the UK. Since Suez in 1956 Egypt has gone it's own way and under Mubarak has been a stable friend of the west for thirty years. The plight of half the nation being under twenty five and having no prospects meant nothing to us in the UK, it was just another 'far away nation about which we know nothing,' so to speak. Robert Fisk in the 'Independent is one of the few who regularly give a worthwhile read on Middle East tales of woe and his books are well worth a look for those who wish to understand this area. While trade continued and thousands travelled up the Nile to be ripped off by vendors while catching sunburn in ancient temples the life of the majority in Egypt just passed us by. Rarely did it get a mention on TV news or indeed anywhere else. Ancient Egypt may have appeared on occasion but the present citizens meant nothing to us. Today however we are all apparently involved in siding with the people as they shake themselves free from Mubarak's repression and seek 'democracy!'  Oh yes? We care so much about that, or do we just like watching the riots? Nothing pleases the left wing middle class than a 'revolution' of the people, and nothing pleases the media more than such a revolution producing gunshots and violence. It makes such good pictures for the press and allows the 'Guardian' reader to take sides, albeit at a safe distance!

However where is all this leading? Removing Mubarak may be a victory but then what? The people of Egypt do not know and the removal of this man is less important than other parts of their daily lives. For a start there are too many of them. About half are under twenty five and where do they get jobs, wives and a future? Bread prices have soared and 40% of the wheat stock has been thrown away because of infestation thus increasing prices even more. Political change here as ever is less to do with 'politics' as much as obtaining our 'daily bread.' Few Egyptians I suspect care if the president remains. The majority would accept anyone who provides for their daily bread, creates jobs and ensures a peaceful society. A leaderless revolution always has someone ready to step in and lead, and such people are not always caring folk. The Muslim Brotherhood are often noted as leading opponents, however no other political movements have been allowed to develop in recent times. Men will arise to lead if there is change, can they be trusted by the people, or indeed the west?

A change of leadership has so many repercussions for us in the UK, the politics of the middle east always have an effect on us, the danger of all out war is ever present, vast numbers visit the country each year to boast of their wealth and adventure (What adventure sitting by the Red Sea getting pissed in the sun happens to be I don't understand myself. Why not visit the sights you ignorant slobs?) and if the US is involved they will wish the UK to do their dirty work for them again, as always. Will 'Dave' continue his 'Tony Blair lookalike' image into bowing down before Obama and the American military desires?  You betcha!

What off the people? Mubarak will go eventually, a new man will arise, politics will whitewash those who killed during the rioting, and life will go on. Repression will continue, although it may change its hue, prices will always rise, some will become rich and the rest will muddle along as always. History teaches us one thing, human nature never changes! We might however see more news about Egypt on our TV's for a while, then drop it for some other 'important' story.

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Maldon Estuary

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Rotten Week

It's been a rotten week so far. The bug has taken what little energy and the even smaller amount of sense that I had and gave me that drained feeling. I was supposed to call a place re a job but what with lack off oomph and the fact that I am not fit enough to work 40 hours again has combined to make me feel lousy. It is amazing how quickly fitness leaves and how hard it is to recover. Wednesday saw me determined to develop stamina again by walking. Two long walks in the cold wind, followed  by another yesterday and amazingly I even got the bike out for a while! However all I have are blisters on the feet and aches everywhere else. Since the snow started I have not been able to get the bike out. Follow that with the bug that never leaves and I have done so little exercise it is only the blubber in front of me that stops me blowing away in the wind! At the back of my head a voice is calling, "Get of your backside and DO something you fat slob!" I am glad it is being subtle! However nothing appears to arrive. The job market for an lazy good for nothing unskilled male almost at 60 is quite small these days. Honestly I have used my whole intellect in this fruitless search and....hold on, I think that may be part of the problem! What now? I just don't know and am quite fed up with this directionless life.

This decrepit looking building dates back into the mists of time. They say it was around in the 14th century, probably the last time it saw a lick of paint, and now serves as a small, character filled (which means what I ask?) hotel. Once a large manor house, and now almost unnoticed at the end of the High Street, it is only around the back does the true age of the building show. How often it has been rebuilt or renovated I could not say however it does seem sad that such a character is hidden away from general view and espied (lovely word) merely from the back end of the multi story car park. Several building round here are like this. The front may be Georgian but round the back a more Medieval side can be glimpsed. Chimneys, roofs and 'Gants,' passageways between buildings, reveal the Netherlands influence from the days of the weavers a few hundred years ago. Pairs of cottages renovated into one expensive house show traces of the farm labourers of yesterday, the occasional 'Big Hoose' reveals just how much money could be made from weaving!  Streets built by speculative builders working together spread out from the centre of town. 

In the 19th century a joiner say, alongside a  bricklayer and possibly a plumber, would join together and buy three plots of land in a newly laid out street. Together they would erect three houses, without architects help, and each would sell one and put the profit to his family and then buying more land to repeat the process. By this method much of England's housing stock was built. The 'Feu duty' in Scotland hindered this approach and anyone building went upwards, hence so many tenements. The Scots are much more egalitarian than the stand offish English and such dwellings grew out of the old 'Closes' and 'Stairs' of past times. Naturally the lower down the social order the worse the building, but that happens everywhere, and still does! The Victorians were not ones to dwell on the past. Buildings that stood in the way of progress were demolished. Just look for Berwick Castle and be disappointed. Robert Stephenson tore it down to build his railway station, and used the stones in doing so! Only the 'keep' of Newcastle itself was 'kept!' The train just misses this as it passes by.  Without listing orders on buildings, often a pain to some, many buildings today would be lost to our heritage. It is not possible to keep all old buildings but so many are worth noting that care is required. After all if every 'old thing' was to be replaced what would become of us?

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Rabbie Burns poetry is recited on this night in places far flung from his place of origin. Scots have taken his works world wide and the talent he displayed shines through the long lost South West Scotland words he uses. In fact many of the words were not understood by the 'polite society' of Edinburgh at the time, although this did not stop the women of that society throwing themselves at him of course. Feminism comes and goes but human nature never changes. Rabbie was not at home in such 'high society' and preferred the company of his own district, and who can blame him? In between chasing or being chased by women, farming and then becoming a very slothful customs man he continued to produce poetry. Now that is something the working man of today would not comprehend! Poetry, while appreciated at 'Burns nights,' is considered a 'Jessie' activity by most. Few there are who buy poetry books or listen to the, somewhat dreary, poetry programmes on radio 4.  However mention a 'Burns night,' a few whiskies, a crowd of pleasant fellows and suddenly all seems acceptable, even when many words are easily pronounced but rarely understood! Haggis, neeps and tatties compliment the evening and all go home, somewhat unsteadily, but gleeful. Proffer a Robert Browning or a Byron poem at work the next day and be greeted with antagonism and once again the world goes on its merry way! 

At primary school in the days of long ago we had to sing this Burns song. Occasionally some of us kept to the tune and I am glad as this became a favourite of mine in those bleak days of normal human existence pre political correctness. If you can find it somewhere have a listen ad see if I am right. Surprisingly it concerns a woman!

Afton Water

              Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,

             Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;

            My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,

             Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

             Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro' the glen,

             Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,

            Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,

              I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.

              How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,

           Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills;

           There daily I wander as noon rises high,

           My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.

            How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,

           Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;

            There oft, as mild Ev'ning sweeps over the lea,

            The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.

        Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,

        And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,

         How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,

           As gathering sweet flowrets she stems thy clear wave.

           Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,

           Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;

            My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,

            Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

RPO

Notes

1] Afton: a small river that flows into the Nith near New Cumnock.

16] birk: birch.

21] brae: hill.

also 'Neeps' are mashed turnips and 'tatties' as you know are potatoes.

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Songs of Praise

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TV ARK

"Lancaster Pam Rhodes learns about the historical importance of the city of Lancaster, and visits a school that makes its own sausages. The programme also features hymns from St Thomas's Church, as well as performances by Lexie Stobie and Tessera"


I was searching the TV for tonight and came across the blurb above for 'Songs of Praise.' I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this. "Pam Rhodes learns about the historical importance of the city of Lancaster, and visits a school that makes its own sausages." '..visits a school that makes it's own sausages?' This programme is what remains of Christian broadcasting in the UK TV networks and the presenter is not bringing us news about Jesus and his suffering on our behalf, instead she is visiting a school to look at the sausage making! Are the BBC for real?

While this generation now flaunts their agnosticism and the professional atheists ram their unbelief down our throats there remains a right of believers to have some sort of representation on Sunday TV, but this sad caricature of worship fails them miserably! Few would return to the Reithian days but the one programme with specifically Christian content could at least be Christian. Maybe that is a concept a step too far for the controller of such programmes today. The controller at the moment I think may be an unbelieving Muslim, or was it a Sikh? Whatever he is his brief is to widen the religious programming to cover all faiths and none, although how you cover no faith is beyond me. In itself this is fair enough but what actually happens is , well nothing! A meaningless (cheap) discussion programme at ten on a Sunday morning that few watch, and a watered down 'Songs of Praise.'  Well worth the money that! Shambles is not the word.


'Songs of Praise' I think was once intended for those who could not attend their church on a Sunday, today it is a glorified choir practice. This programme uses its own hymn book, they gather choirs from all the churches in a specific area and practice them for a week. Whether these are Christian or nominal does not appear to matter, what matters is lots of faces singing properly and any genuine member of that church is shoved to the back, unless they are featured in the programme. While the singing may succeed,the praise fails. All too often we are left with lots of ageing women, possibly a children's choir, each individual focused, not on God, but on a choirmaster. That is not praise! Now I grant you many believers are to be found among those choirs, and many others seek their God, however this does not reflect the reality of Christian worship in the UK today. I wonder also if this brings the truth of the good news to an individual as well as it might?


Much better to drop this programme and spend several weeks interviewing Christians throughout the land. Not just those famous names but the everyday man in the pew, well seat actually today, and discover how Jesus himself has changed their lives, and not actually made it easier for them while doing so. Much better to watch real people in action that sing a few songs, often good ones, and glimpse individuals lives for a short moment, even if those stories are often touching indeed. The whole programme as it is gives the impression the church is for old women! This is not the case! Far too often those who appear are middle class men in fancy robes or purple vestments relating to few indeed! Jesus Christ is alive and well and changing lives of those who accept him. Throughout the country people are discovering that he is alive yet when they look at the TV screen they see the blue rinse set all too often and little to grab their hearts. 


Jesus Christ himself has come to bring life, real life, abundant life, yet I do not believe this programme shows this. While there are those who tell of what God has done for them all too often we find such items as schools making sausages! This I can tell you is fun but not abundant life! I do not disparage the programme as such, I am happy that there are many who enjoy this programme, however if we are to have a Christian show in the evening let's have a real one, let's reflect the church,in whatever denomination, really has going for it! Let us show the power of Jesus to change lives!


It must be said that in these days Christianity is being pushed aside in an aggressive manner. Christians know the reason for this, and amongst other things showing Christianity in a poor light serves that purpose. However  God has as much right to be heard as anyone else, and while programmes cover all aspects of life the BBC must also provide a fairer representation of God in this world. No-one would object to such fairness being offered to Jews, Hindus or Muslims. Indeed religion is only mentioned during the news or laughed at in most other programmes so it is time for a fairer investigation of the actual effects of belief. That is not being given at this moment in time.




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Now I'm Not One To Gloat

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However a quick scan of the Scottish Premier League shows that while the Heart of Midlothian lie in third place the wee team, the one renowned for their 'flair,' lies second from bottom, a mere three points above Hamilton Accies. This is so sad that I am having to wipe tears from my eyes as I write.  

1 Celtic....................... 22 16 4 2 46 14 32 52           

2 Rangers................... 20 15 2 3 44 20 24 47           

3 Hearts......................21 14 3 4 36 16 20 45           

4 Kilmarnock.............. 22 9 5 8 35 25 10 32           

5 I.C. Thistle............... 23 7 8 8 31 28 3 29           

6 Motherwell.............. 21 8 4 9 26 25 1 28           

7 Dundee United ........18 6 7 5 21 24 -3 25           

8 St Johnstone............ 20 6 5 9 14 26 -12 23           

9 Aberdeen.................21 6 2 13 21 39 -18 20           

10 St Mirren................. 21 4 5 12 17 35 -18 17           

11 Hibernian................ 21 4 4 13 21 37 -16 16           

12 Hamilton Accies....... 20 2 7 11 13 36 -23 13  

  

The defeat of Rangers did however show up the lack of depth in the squad. Kyle being injured left us short and while we eventually won that had more to do with the failure of the Ibrox side to take the several chances we gave them in the first half. The players failed in the tackle, failed to pass properly and appeared devoid of ideas at times. Rangers hassling crowded out the skilful ones and the rest were too busy making mistakes to help. The second have produced a much better performance and the game was very equal then. For a neutral it went from one end to the other but for the fan it became very tense in the last few minutes. I was happy to see the ref refuse to run after the blue bigots as they have done so often in the past. There were areas to improve but overall he was not too bad. However we need to improve for Wednesday, but we can win that also! The futures bright, the futures maroooooooooooon! 

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Greenock Harbour

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Victorian painting is not popular with some. However I find many excellent works there and this one by John Atkinson Grimshaw is one I like. There are one or two others on this excellent Golden Age Paintings blog, and I recommend it to lovers of fine arts and nice pictures. There are a variety of pictures, and lots of words for those that like that sort of thing, and very good it is too!

 Salthouse Dock - Grimshaw.

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Football Over the Ether

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While twenty two men slug it out in the rain in Kilmarnock a great many people are sitting listening, or watching, in the comfort of their own homes. How wonderful! This game is available via the wireless on Medium Wave, although it may be the 'open all mikes' all in programme only. It can however be heard via the internet thanks to Sportsound's shambolic website,which is how I am listening on tenterhooks, actually I am on a second hand office chair, but as the butcher said when I asked for half a rabbit, "Let's not split hares!" The web has become a marvellous way with which to follow the football. Games worldwide, and sometimes pictures also, can be obtained this way, both legally and not. International fans of the Heart of Midlothian not only have 'Hearts World' struggling to provide an unbiased commentary on the game but they also get live pictures on occasion. 

To me this is amazing!  When I took up residence in the mouse filled condemned slum in London's Finchley Road I discovered that it was well nigh impossible to discover what was happening four hundred miles up the road. Saturday saw football results on the radio (did I have one then? I certainly had no telly) and the Sunday press had all the results. Reports of the games did not exist, with a cup final or old firm game as an exception and nothing was mentioned on the radio or among the population of the city in which I dwelt. Papers were available from the local newsagent. Papers from France, Germany, Italy and several other European nations. The Arabic press were represented, all the major papers from that region, and other from the US and elsewhere could be obtained a day or two after publication. None from Scotland could be obtained, although the Scotsman, then a newspaper, was then available in some areas. Later, once I had moved to a more salubrious basement in Kilburn (or was it when I had finally reached the goal of a back door in Notting Hill?), I discovered the Scottish Press could be obtained from Kings Cross station and the Sundays on a Saturday night before they made their way north. The joy of wandering about Kings Cross on a Saturday night is not one I wish to share with such gentle readers as yourselves! 

Football discussion was often limited amongst the people I worked with. They were either not interested or supported only English sides or, believe it or not, cared for cricket! The sight of working men getting excited about cricket is one I am even yet not sure about. It was of course possible at times to discuss football with those who understood the game, and from as far apart as Montrose and Real Madrid! However this was not relevant to the Heart of Midlothian. However my life had more important things to worry it as I built my 'relationship with Jesus, although he may disagree here, and this included the eight years I did without TV and used books and the radio to develop my incredible intellect. ( Well people always say "Incredible!" when mentioning my intellect!). Today the use of satellite TV and the 'Dirty Diggers' money football coverage has developed greatly. At the same time more newsagents found a market for the sale of Scots papers, a sale which is dying now we all read these grubby papers on the web! Ah well!

I now feel closer to Edinburgh and some members of my family and to my football club than I have ever done in the past thirty five years! The personal computer has been a great benefit in these and many other ways, how did I ever live without it? Unemployment of this period of time with no PC would have seen me dead! Who said "Shame?"  News of the team is available as easily for me as for those in Edinburgh. Pictures are available, and contact with the fans, especially the decent ones, is a great help to understanding what is going on. Incidentally this also enables me to remember Edinburgh words that have sunk deep into the back of my big head, but that's another story. The question now is why are we losing? Do we care when we hear Hibs are losing another cup tie to a very low lying side? Yes! That enables us to keep smiling in the rain soaked circumstances.

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Just as I am

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Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea, all I need in Thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, Thy love unknown
Hath broken every barrier down;
Now, to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.



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Saturday Recommendation!

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I have just discovered a grand blog called the 'Braw Doocot!'  I recommend this to any Scot with artistic leanings. The authors taste covers architecture, grand houses, Railway posters, one of the best stolen and posted above, sculpture and I suspect a great deal more besides. I enjoyed my little trawl through this and think you will also. James Playfair's 'Egyptian Room' is a fantasy indeed!  'Doocot' by the way refers to the place pigeons were kept in days of yore to supplement the winter food supply. 'Doo's' being the Scots term for pigeons, as in 'Rock Dove's' I suspect. I notice also that there has been no post since April, maybe he will return soon, he is probably just blocked in by snow or the tram works!

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Friday Frivolity

Got an e-mail today from a bored local housewife, 43, who was looking for some hot action! 
So I sent her my ironing. That'll keep the lazy woman busy.

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

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

Paddy says to Mick, "Christmas is on Friday this year". 

Mick said, "Let's hope it's not the 13^th then."

Came home today to find all my doors and windows smashed in and everything gone. What sort of sick person does that to someone's Advent calendar.

I've been charged with murder for killing a man with sandpaper. To be honest I only intended to rough him up a bit.

After years of research, scientists have discovered what makes women happy.   Nothing.

A lad comes home from school and excitedly tells his dad that he had a part in the school play and he was playing a man who had been married for 25 years. The dad says, "Never mind son, maybe next year you'll get a speaking part."

Just had my water bill of £175 drop on my mat. That's a lot.  Oxfam can supply a whole African village for just £2 a month: time to change supplier I think.

   

2 women called at my door and asked what bread I ate, when I said white they gave me a lecture on the benefits of brown bread  for 30 minutes. 

I think they were Hovis Witnesses

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Floods

The Huffington Post

The Brisbane floods have left around 40 known dead, and possibly many more to come after the clean up has begun. Rightly this has received a great deal of airtime on TV and radio in the UK. The connection between the UK and Australia is very strong and thinking about this I may well have a few distant relatives suffering from this flood as I had a long dead aunt out that way. I suspect news will filter through slowly from there. Because of the connections and of course the excellent live pictures and audio reporting, we have a great deal of detail to fill the otherwise 'quiet' news room in the early part of the year.


I was struck however by the lack of reporting on the deaths of over 250 people in Brazil! I came across this story only today and wondered why this was not mentioned before?  Silly question, they are only poor Brazilians living in shanty towns on hillsides prone to mudslides. Why should we car? They don't peak English, a great disadvantage, the TV coverage is not so good, and anyway, they are just going to lose any aid we send in some corruption somewhere, let's just pass by on the other side shall we? I am glad the Independent managed to report this tragedy as if this was as important as the Australian one which has cost less deaths but a great deal more money. 


The weather front that has crossed the southern Pacific and brought the heavy rain to Australia has also moved on to other parts of the region. The Philippines also endured heavy rain and this too resulted in many deaths from flood damage. Around a million people, mostly poor, are suffering and at least 40 have died. Not much reporting on this, there again the only mention of the Philippines concerns Islamic terrorism, floods or corruption, so why bother we ask? One nation not much reported now the Tamil Tigers have been all but obliterated is Sri Lanka. When part of the British Empire (are you standing to attention?) this land was known as Ceylon and a producer of much of the tea that we consume. Thirty years of needless conflict have curbed the tourist trade and the last time Sri Lanka received attention concerned the Boxing Day Tsunami of a few years ago. One wonders if that had happened at a busier time if it would have received such attention? Today the damaged area is not much better off, the aid having disappeared and those who suffered receiving less than they ought. Now again the monsoon rains brings flooding, and we know of at least 18 dead and large areas damaged but it does not affect us much so we can pass on regardless. Much more important to know what some celebrity is wearing or where he, she, or it shops isn't it?


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Radio Voices

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Listening to the radio you can tell much about the person speaking. You can recognise their class, if they possess any, their age is often easy to guess and it is possible to even tell their colour and nationality to some extent from their voice. However the picture of the person that comes to mind is never that which exists. When I was a lad, in the days of the BBC Home Service, the early morning news programme 'Today' was led by one Jack De Manio, a man famous in his day, usually for giving out the wrong time and various other gaffes! This highly popular presenter led this programme single handed from 1958 until 1970 when he was joined by a fellow presenter, soon after he left as the situation did not suit him and presented 'Jack de Manio Precisely on Radio 4 in the afternoons.  Although I heard his voice on many occasions as I stuffed toast in my big mouth preparing for the long trek to school and another day of ghastly misery I had an image of this man in my head. One day, much to my shock, I came across a picture of him and discovered he was nothing at all like the image my mind had offered me! Now, a short time since those days, I can no longer remember what my original image happened to be but it was nothing like the man himself. It is strange how we can identify so much about a speaker on the wireless but no matter how much information we gather we cannot tell what they actually look like, they never fit our image of them. Many benefit from this of course, and there are numerous folks who have the face fit for radio walking the streets today.

I popped into the library to get warm some education this afternoon and was seated near a heater browsing a book concerning photojournalism. However not far away there was a line of PC's, all occupied, and one twenty something male was willing to share his music at an annoying level. Had this actually been music it might have been tolerable, however the refrain 'Please stand up,' repeated constantly at various levels was, in my humble view (and humble is the word I am assured), unsuitable for a library. Moving along past the medical problems, masses of books lying to people about how easy it is to repair a car, or create your own business, I was enlightened by two schoolgirls gossiping about boyfriends in the library to study but doing so quite loudly, and I began to wonder why they no longer have signs saying 'SILENCE SOME FOLKS ARE READING YOU IGNORANT LOUTS!' like we used to do? Noise appears to be OK in such places now and this has been made worse by two things, one is the daft idea of closing 'reference libraries' where proper study was possible, and the other the modern design of new buildings which allow all noise to circulate. Our building has a children's library with no doors thus allowing the screaming brats to entertain everybody no matter how far way they are. Considering many events for the kiddies are held there and those deeply studying advanced maths, literary composition or pictures of nudes nature in photographic books find themselves repeating 'Mrs Tiddlywinks went to market' instead of something more useful. Libraries, like most of society, has no consideration for others these days. The purpose of the library, to educate and enlighten, appears these days to be to provide a service for those who wish to read the papers for free, dodge school or keep warm gossip away from schoolfriends. Sorry, but I wish the old days were back. 

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He's Shaking Hands Again!

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Michael Portillo is taking another of his excellent 'Great British Rail Journeys' for the BBC.  Now I enjoy these gentle trips through the UK along rail lines old and new. These days I find more enjoyment from this than from a great many 'popular' programmes, most of which I consider to be rubbish! However as I watch I am annoyed by two things, and it takes a lot to get me annoyed! As the programme begins they waste two minutes and forty eight seconds telling us what is about to happen, and at the end of the programme another minute or so is wasted with what will happen tomorrow - JUST GET ON WITH IT MAN! 

The other thing is the more important one today, his handshakes! Portillo is constantly meeting people, getting off trains, in fields, at stations, in buildings and on each and every occasion he greets them with a handshake as if they had met for the first time, rubbish! Almost, but not always, they have waited for thirty minutes while the cameraman worked out his angles and background, then they march together full of false greetings, STOP IT!!! You are wasting time with false politeness and absurd realism. JUST GET ON WITH IT MAN!

I like this programme and Michael is giving us some good documentaries on both TV and Radio these days but for goodness sake cut the crap man!

I've finished now....

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