Charity Begins at Home...?

I was impressed by the screaming headlines in the press this morning concerning the tower block fire yesterday.  All called for someones head, all yelled about safety, all demanded something ought to be done.
Where were they several years ago when the tenants of this block demanded changes?  Where was the press opposition when the Labour Party attempted to ensure landlords made their properties safe for tenants?  They were nowhere as these were not important stories for the daily press, sex, scandal, political intrigue and immigrants sells papers not dangerous housing, especially among the lower orders.  Especially when some 71 Conservative MPs who voted against the Labour bill demanding landlords took action were and still are landlords themselves!  The Tory press would not mention this.
Out of some 400 or so tenants less than half have been identified, I feel for the foremen who have to clear the building once it is made safe.
When these buildings arose in the 1950's they were an answer to a desperate housing problem.  It was not long before the dehumanising aspect of the style of building came to the fore, and indeed the misbehaviour of the people living in such blocks.  Lack of authoritative control, ignorant tenants and soon these places were wastelands.  Only once done up and sold off to paying owners with porters, sorry 'Concierge' at the door could such places work.  It is not just the building but the people that ruin such creations.  Of course many were badly designed, many have been destroyed and more human housing produced but in the end the people decide whether a housing development works or not.
I liked the idea of being high up, great views, wonderful skies, but if the lift breaks you are trapped.  We know know, and ought to have known long ago, that fire is a hazard to be avoided.  No block of flats ought to go over four stories in my view, this enables most firemen to gain access to you.  It was very difficult to watch the pictures of the trapped high above, or listen to the tales of the survivors.  This made worse by endless speculation and repetition of survivors stories over and over again to no-ones advantage.  
Of course the £62 million or so taken from the Fire Service has to play a part, closing fire stations, and I read somewhere that yesterday the government sold all the fire engines and equipment to a private company on the very day this fire erupted.  That requires checking but sounds just like this government.  I was intrigued to find a link on Twitter to an item in the London Evening Standard blaming cuts to services as one factor responsible for the fire, the Evening Standard the paper now 'edited' by one George Osborne the failed chancellor of the Exchequer who brought in the 'austerity' that gave us the cuts and decimated the Fire Service, the Police, the Ambulance crews, the NHS and everything else!   I wonder if George read that item?

When I met one of my women today we discussed, among other important topics, the response to the tragedy.  People were collecting items to send, food, clothes, blankets and the other daily requirements that the folks from the tower have lost.  I noticed some wished to do so round her, others as far away as Fife were offering items and then I began to think something was not right here.  For a start this disaster occurred in London, relatively close to the centre of the city and with seven or eight million people and a good number there willing to help there is no real need for people at a distance offering such aid.  A friend of mine is in close contact with the Latymer Church which is close to the tower and had things been desperate I suspect a call would have gone out for items.  

So what makes people respond this way?  When I was fifteen the Aberfan disaster occurred.  This was a mining village in Wales where an unsteady coal bing, the residue of coal waste that towered above the village gave way and fell across the village destroying the primary school and killing around one hundred and fifty young children.  Far away in Edinburgh watching this unfold on our rented Black and White TV I was gripped with a desire to go and dig out the kids.  An absurd idea as if miners and police could not save the I certainly would not.  
Years later while working for a charitable organisation I came across a wise item in a magazine where the author asked about those helping at Aberfan, they would come for miles to help he said but would they care about the man next door having a breakdown?  It is easy to rush to a disaster, it is hard to cope with daily stress of individual or local group disasters, no less real but not so spectacular.   Is rushing to a disaster such as this from far away the right thing to do, is it really 'loving your neighbour?'

  
Another man who has had a personal disaster is Tim Farron the Lib-Dem leader.  His party did not have an great success during the election, it did however grow from I think 8 seats to 12 so it wasn't all bad, but he himself was hounded by the media not on his policies but because he follows Jesus.
When interviewed there were few policy questions merely constant queries regarding whether he thought as a Christian homosexuality was a sin.  This was the constant refrain and sadly he failed to cope with this.  Instead of loudly brazing it out and saying "Yes it is!" he attempted to compromise out of 'consideration' for others opinions.  This was wrong!  The other day a senior Liberal in the House of Lords resigned because he objected to the biblical position offered by Tim, this has forced Tim Farron into resigning his position as leader.  A mistake in my view.  This Lord ought to have been castigated for his intolerance, his prejudice and his religious discrimination and thrown out of the party!  It is the Liberal Party after all so why has he now allowance for liberty?
Underneath all this lies the clear anti-Christian forces that dominate the media, that through the gay lobby harass those who stick to Christian principles (the Muslims are however never attacked as they might fight back) and white, middle class socialists, who have never done a proper days work in their lives, dominate the world.  We must obey their commands and accept homosexuality and all the other apparently new found behaviours as normal even if they are not.  From primary schools now children are indoctrinated to believe such behaviour is normal, instead of accepting people who behave thus, a very big difference!  The gay lobby leads the attack on the church as that is the truth that the power behind them hates, Christians such as Tim Farron ought to be given support to take his stand and not attacked constantly because of this.

We are right to wonder if there would have been a Lord grumbling if Tim won a lot of seats, we are right to wonder if all would be different then?  Possibly the Lord was only one man involved in a coup and we will soon know if his friend the new leader, whoever he may be, invites him to be a spokesman for something in the Lords.

I was forced out into the sunshine thrice today.  Not only did I have to visit two supermarkets to obtain cheap supplies but the brutes at the bird feeders broke one of the feeders and later I had to walk in the heat wearing dark glasses and bumping into things just to buy another.  Naturally the young girls at the counter were impressed with my 'James Bond' approach, I could tell by the way they looked at me, one of them even woke up long enough to almost smile.  I could see she was finding it tough having spend many years in school learning about many things and discovering work was in fact boring!  Having gained umpteen 'O' and 'A' levels and been interviewed as if she was applying for work as a rocket scientist she finds herself at a check out in a far too warm and stuffy store dealing with the public!  Poor lass, I hope something better arrives soon.  I always like to cheer such as her up by reminding them they can leave at 65 or 70 and enjoy retirement but they always look so glum when I do.  
It's a giggle mind! 

Tuesday Twitter

A flower for the DUP

The museum was quiet again today. Three visitors, one of whom I knew from the Braintree Facebook Page with his delightful wife and a Scandinavian lass who came last year with her children, this time with a niece.  My chocolate, freely offered, appeared to be the best part of the day for her!  The handful of events thereafter allowed me time to browse our book selection and save money inform myself of the history around us.  This kept me awake.

Two of my women were off again ensuring I had to make my own tea and sit alone bereft when as visitors appeared.  No superior bothered to check whether I was alive or dead, no offers of tea, no offers of work either, so it was not all bad.  This is such a hard life at times, however men who have been in war zones often indicate life can be tougher than this, I doubt that!

Getting out in the morning is such hard work.

Once upon a time we would meet together, two, three or four of us, staying up late and often until near one in the morning.  Next day we were at work at 8 or nine o'clock and felt it none!  Once I rose at 3:30 am and left by 4:30 am for work, now I must be out by 9:25 am and I feel it is too early!  On Sunday I leave at 10 am yet that feels to early and next day getting there by noon means a struggle to get things done.

All I need do is wash, breakfast and dress yet it takes sooo looong to do in such a short time!  How come when young we could stay up past midnight yet now nine in the evening is cocoa time?  Am I working too hard?  According to my two women today the answer was not a positive one so that's not responsible!  It may be I lack exercise, proper food, and get up and go, though I had that once and it got up and left.  

I had suggested to myself that making the tea, burning the toast the night before might make it quicker in the morning but that did not work out well.  The porridge was not a success this way either.  I avoided washing but the women objected for some reason, placing all the fancy soaps we then stocked in my pockets was going a bit far I thought.  I could of course avoid reading the news online but them I would know nothing wouldn't I?  What do you mean what's the difference?  Anyway as I am off tomorrow, no suggestion of being called in unsuspectingly later, and nothing important to do either I will naturally rise around four in the morning and be unable to sleep!!!  Bah!

The other day I posted a green abstract work and indicated I did not understand it.  Today I looked at the blurb alongside and still don't  It was one of three such works all concerning the artists family, weddings, moving on, as far as I could make out.  Only a woman artist would understand. 

However those who understand can pop into the shop and acquire some small token regarding the works on offer.  Individual hand made items, even cards and postcards for those who wish to just put that on the wall are available at a reasonable price!  

The three adults and one kid who entered today bought nothing!  Not even a pencil!  Not even a book I ostentatiously proffered!  Ah well in a week or so we begin the summer exhibition aimed at the kids.  That will mean a million brats running around screaming, bashing and vomiting for weeks on end. 

I'm looking forward to this....

    

 

Life is a Bit Blurred Today

My eyes have worn out from yesterday's efforts in the sunshine.  Nothing has been done today, a situation made worse by the TV and radio news constantly going over and over the nothing news that we heard yesterday.  With nothing to say, nothing new, nothing interesting they have been producing unknowns from here there and everywhere to fill time and repeat what we already know.  How they get paid for this I don't know.
Certainly some new news has arrived with a cabinet reshuffle as Theresa May tries to hold off all those who might stab her in the back and places between them and herself her chosen few.  The power grab is on and she is toast.  
Theresa's decision to work with the Northern Irish DUP has not gone down well.  Most object to their opposition to homosexuality, gay marriage and abortions.  I see nothing wrong with that straight forward godly view.  However few indeed bother to mention the DUPs relationship with terrorism and the recent murder in Northern Ireland.  
The only objections are to their Christian stance and that speaks volumes for people today.  I say again this nation is under judgement and possibly Theresa is one aspect of that.  She cannot be considered a gift to the nation!

Luckily there is nothing more to say so here is a picture from the exhibition.
No, I have no idea what it represents either...

Carnival 2017

 

Awake!

I awoke at three thirty and somewhat foolishly turned on the BBC to listen to the election gossip.  I was somewhat surprised to hear Theresa May speaking about carrying on the work and I wondered if she had indeed won a victory.  It soon became clear she had not, indeed her campaign was a miserable failure.  Today we have a winning PM who has lost and a losing Labour Party leader who has won hands down!  The gamble of forcing through the A50 act without a proper mandate from a divided nation added to her misreading of Corbyn's popularity led her into a second daft act of calling an election she did not require.  She has lost and lost disastrously and there is no way she can be allowed to continue to occupy her position and negotiate Brexit when she cannot negotiate in her own party.
However while the result in England saw an end to the threat to the NHS and the attacks on the weak it also led to a disaster in Scotland.  Brexit, media lies and foolhardiness has let the Tories win seats no decent Scot would allow.  Not only has Alex Salmond been replaced by a Tory but Angus Robertson, the next leader of the SNP I thought, has also been removed!  Two big effective men removed from office, a big loss to the SNP and Scottish representation in the House of Commons.
The failure of the Tories in England contrasts with their slight advance in Scotland and those few seats may well keep them in power in what is now a 'Hung Parliament.'  A 'Hung Parliament' is something many of us would like to introduce but in a different fashion I suggest! 

The result in Scotland unsettled me somewhat and I could not get back to sleep so at 4:15 I rose and had breakfast while perusing the lack of emails that failed to arrive in my inbox on every email account!  This took a while as I watched the TV gloat over Scotland's suffering and gloat over the big names everywhere falling.  Nick Clegg the one time Lib-Dem leader the biggest name to fall while elsewhere some seats were won by a small majority.  After four recounts the West Fife seat was won by the SNP by TWO votes!  How close is that?   Sad to say here in Blue Land the sitting man increased his vote from 27 thousand to over 32 thousand, a sad indication that little englanders care not if the NHS and the poor suffer.  It also indicates how many elderly people live in East Anglia!

While the folks in the million pound houses in the villages sleep easy in their beds I found myself unable to sleep so I looked up the details of one of the Finchingfield men.  I then ironed four shirts, cleaned the loo and kitchen,  and hoovered the floor all by 9:30.  Lunch has been taken by 10:30!
I strongly suspect I will pay for this later in the day!  Now I will return to the several items awaiting my mistakes, the war memorial, the Lyon, the houses, the stuff I have forgotten and I can imagine the minute I start the sleep will descend.  

Breaking news confirms that the failure that is Theresa May will visit the queen and demand to be allowed to make a new government.  What a cheek!  The English queen will of course accept this disgraceful act as this is her party and she cares little for the people, so we can expect an almighty row to begin any time soon.

So, the two old women have decided May stays as PM and she wishes to provide 'certainty!'  One thing she has shown throughout the feeble campaign is her lack of 'certainty.'  To enable her to govern she had gained support from the DUP, a party based in Northern Ireland who will make enormous demands on her to gain support, and that support will be on a one by one basis.  This does not make for good government, nor indeed for her chances during the Brexit negotiations which she will now front being 'strong and stable.'  The many EU negotiators are laughing into their bank accounts as we speak.
One other reason for her success was the Scottish Labour Party.  These desperate Unionist souls flocked to the polls yesterday in various Scots areas and voted for the Conservative Party!  Imagine!  Scots Labour people voting deliberately for the Tories, their mortal enemies, to stop the SNP winning a chance of a second referendum!  The result?  By voting in Conservative MPs in Scotland while the English Labour Party voted out Conservative MPs the Scots Labour folk have given success to Theresa May by ensuring she has enough seats to stave of Jeremy Corbyn who might now be Prime Minister in a government the Scots Labour Party wish for but they have ensured will not happen!
The brains of the Labour Party in Scotland has long ago dried up.

   
To getaway from it all I wandered in the gardens idly kicking loose toddlers into the bushes to tidy the place up while enjoying a surprisingly warm sun and the singing of the birds.  While I mused on the day and listened to the birds, not easy as so many young mothers were running about screaming for some reason, I considered we just have to 'get on with it' and not worry about the stupidity of Scots who vote Tory in spite of the attempt to kill the NHS, steal from the poor and take all off Scotland's oil profits south! 

It's Over!

It's over!  The great transaction's done!
I have wasted my vote by placing my cross next to a candidate that will lose.  The one party state in which I live allows no other choice.  Last time out the man determined to find himself a ministerial post as soon as possible led by a mere 17,000 or so votes.  I am interested to see the result today.  Will the Tories sick of May's failure stay at home?  Will the UKIP vote add to his majority?  Certainly the people that care about the NHS, pensions, old folks care and the sick will have voted for another failing candidate.  But which way will the Tories here go?  Do they really care for more austerity?  No!  What they care for s 'Brexit!'  Leaving the EU is more important for the little englanders as they have sufficient cash, and lots of it really, to survive the next few years, what happens to those that don't they really will not bother about.  So a sizable majority for the 'Nasty Party' and shortly after this independence for Scotland and then a descent into economic decline for England.
I must write off for my Scots passport later today... 

A Day of Rest? Ha!

The sleep was fitful last night, not for the first time, rest was required after yesterdays excessive hard work, so when I awoke for the last time just after eight this morning I decided to have an easy day.
I sat at the laptop watching through half closed bleary eyes as words crossed the screen, my mind unheeding most of them.  I fed myself on the leftover stale bread and refilled once again the feeders for the greedy Starling family that consider me their main feeder, and attempted work on a war memorial.  This was hard, the details hard to find, the old laptop slowly driving me crazy by its slow response and then just as I was burning something for lunch the phone screamed.

Her indoors called to tell me her on at one pm had not arrived and no message had come through.  As she was holding the fort by herself, the morning staff had gone home, I was required.  Naturally I lied, claiming Morag wished me to stay, this lie worked once before but failed this time as she realises Morag does not exist. So I rushed my slow work, gobbled my dinner, looked for the 'Andrews Liver Salts' dug out another clean shirt, this means lots of ironing tomorrow, and slumped off to fill the gap.

    
Naturally this conniving woman, something women are good at, forgot to mention the 102 children in Victorian dress in the shop when I arrived.  This had 'slipped her mind' and did not 'seem important to mention.'  Never trust a woman!  
The kids and the teachers I spoke to, were very good in fact.  Dressed as Victorians and having suffered under a strict Victorian teacher, even one of the teachers got told off, the kids loved it.  They loved shopping in the shop (where else?) taking as long as possible to spend money, naturally few bothered to count up how much things cost and the younger ones had no idea how much change they ought to receive!  We always strive to teach them how to shop but it is not always possible with the excited crowd.    

The excitement passed I sat back to sip my tea and digest my hurried lunch.  Many other work opportunities were available but I managed to dodge them as my knees wobbled and my hulk needed its siesta that it was sorely missing.  Little sympathy ensued as she poor lass was in the same boat.  However as the computers are down she could hide in the office and close her eyes while I faced the world.
Shortly afterwards the world arrived.
Several ladies of uncertain ages arrived for a get together of some sort.  This included surveying the museum and going for coffee and gossip.  Most were members of the 'Friends of the Museum' and get free admission and I knew them all anyway, but one, who gave much information re the Great War exhibition cleverly indicated a fault.
Her relative, who fell at the Battle of Loos, is described on the blurb as having died and his body never recovered.  This however stands in direct competition with a picture of his tombstone!  No body, n tombstone, and we have a tombstone!  Later I checked this out and realised the mistake.  Of course I have not informed the lady that I wrote all the blurbs and therefore...anyway lets move on...

Home soon after work, via Tesco for bread to replace the stale stuff, and now exhausted I find I am too tired to sleep.  Tomorrow I return to the museum as in our hall the Election Vote takes place and our boss runs the Polling Station.  It will be busier than the last one....    

 

Rainy Tuesday

The rain teemed down from early this morning until late this afternoon.  This meant that nobody was going to venture outside unless they really had to and only one visitor braved the rain and two others attended an arranged meeting with one of our girls.  The crowds did not appear and the nearby cafe closed before noon as not one person was making their way inside, even the taxi drivers were unwilling to cross the road for coffee!  They have never closed that early before, good job I wasn't hungry.

So quiet was it that while my back was turned my assistant ran off home leaving all the work to me.
The term 'work' regarding today's situation is of course misleading.
After she left I went into the office because I was beginning to feel lonely!  
A quieter day would be hard to imagine.

The weather system that passed over brought high force winds.  This must have pleased many as this meant those people plodding around the streets begging for votes could not make their way through the streets because of the rain.  It is unlikely the public would take pity on them!

However Theresa was still 'meeting the public' although as one man pointed out they ought to have taken the blue rosettes off first before taking the picture.  She then went back into a box surrounded by loyal supporters holding up placards and cheering sullenly.
These photo opportunities political candidates go in for fool nobody so why do they do them?  Surely it must be possible to arrange something that does not make the candidate look very uncomfortable or have them shown up by a six year old.  I realise that for some meeting people is fraught with danger, remember John Prescott being punched by a Tory thug, the press outcry blamed him for retaliating but that was the correct thing for an ex-boxer to do!  There was no press outcry in Sheffield when the Labour MP at the time had a fridge dropped on him, and miss, from four floors above however.  In that district that was not uncommon!  
It was quite late in Victorian days before the secret ballot was adopted, until then candidates shouted from a rostrum unto their hearers knowing that as the big man of the area had chosen him the voters, then few in number, would vote for him, or else.  Those close contested affairs resulted in violent punch-ups and riots could easily occur.   Similar events, without actual riots, were not uncommon even in the late 1960's when speaking to an audience brought opposition crowds along to oppose.  This suited the type of orator who knew how to browbeat an audience, but not all could do this and few of today's lads and lassies would cope with an open objective audience questioning their opinions.  That is why so many debates do not occur, and even then the audience is controlled both personally and by those arranging the debate.
What a shame we have no Gladstones, no Lloyd Georges, no powerful speakers or major politicians today.  Not that I liked Lloyd George, he was a lying we nyaff who made Tony Blair appear honest!  Today the politicians are small men, Corbyn, Boris, May and the rest may be competent in one sense but the big men from the past would shove them aside if they returned.

The last day tomorrow, then we vote on Thursday, praise the Lord for that!

 

Normality Returns, Almost.

Theresa met some of her chosen few today in Edinburgh of all places.  They were all Conservative members all invited by email and only certain ones were allowed to ask questions.  The question "Why are we meeting in a closed warehouse? was not asked.  The sheep however applauded, cheered and waved placards as they were told to showing Theresa has learnt much from her studies on Romanian politics. 
Other questions such as "How many more Libyans are walking free?" were not allowed, nor was "Are you fit for purpose?"  There are lots of questions to ask these days but it appears you are not allowed to ask the ones that make her upset.  'Strong and upset' is the watchword.
I note the poncy approach to outrages continues.  A policeman gave out 'felt hearts' to all and sundry in Manchester, something not even considered when the IRA blew up Manchester killing a child, other police have been highlighted dancing with kids, although most police would do this and have always done this at party time, ans the news has been full of people telling their story of bomb and knife.  Maybe it is therapy for them but today people are only too willing, and I mean 'too willing' to tell their story especially if there is trauma involved.
This is not 'Love your neighbour' all this emotional rubbing one another up and down appeals to many but it lacks depth.  Tomorrow we will not be changed, just experienced as we used to say.  We live in a world where our emotions must be publicly shared, and I am one who believes is sharing folks when trouble comes but not in the open, have some regard for people.  Something false is appearing in troubled times, this will not get us through trouble.

Peter Sallis has died, aged 96.  He played 'Clegg' the timorous sharp witted, somewhat cynical observer of the three old men in 'Last of the Summer Wine.' His barbed put downs and cynical answers were always sharp and much the funniest of the three, no matter who the main protagonist happens to be.  I always liked him and his approach to life.  Clegg would be the one who plays me in the film of my life, without the 'Pacamac' raincoat of course.  Clegg, sorry Sallis also gave voice to Wallace in the 'Wallace and Gromit' films.  His gentle delivery, his accent and hint of humour or confusion made the films work for many.  He will be missed by many.

From the late 1960's through the 70's and into the 1990's I travelled frequently by rail from Kings Cross Station to Edinburgh Waverley.  Usually through the day but once I worked out the prices and times, through the night.  How often I sat in the doorway rather on the seats as this was more enjoyable on crowded trains, how interesting the activities at stations during the night hours, how lovely when old coaches with divided compartments from a previous age were used on the almost unknown night train.  All changed now, bar the prices.  In the past theyw ere expensive but often special pre-booked 1st class tickets were available and these were a very nice way to travel, very 1990's.  I expect today the word 'extortionate' is often heard when booking such travel, and that is not for the 1st class either!
For all those travel times I looked out of the window taking in the passing ever changing landscape.  Therefore when I discovered a video taken from the engine itself showing the journey from a drivers perspective I jumped at it and enjoyed the trip even better.  However it is a long trip and two journeys were required, one from Kings Cross to York and a second from York to Edinburgh, I bought both!  Today I have discovered a more modern version of this wonderfully relaxing video, this time from a modern 'Intercity 225' giving a clearer view and while this one only goes to York there must be another somewhere to complete the journey.  See if you enjoy this long rail trip as much as I do.

Angry and Cynical!

The world is full of sentiment.  All around politicians mouth platitudes, the weak and unstable Prime Minister vows to 'get tough' and the media fill space with meaningless repetition of what was said before.
Lies! All lies!
The US needless invasion of Iraq with Tony Blair's help added to two hundred years of suffering the west UK, France, Italy and the US amongst others have given the middle east.  No thought for the long term, not regard for the locals. 
Before the Great War the decision to fire the Royal Navy with oil rather than coal ensured Britain would control as much of the oil fields as possible.  After the war the French and British, with international help cut up the middle east to suit themselves.  The Arabs were given what was thought good for them. Any rebellion was answered by the RAF dropping chemical weapons on villages, women and children counted as little to us as they do to terrorists today.
Oil was and still is the reason today we run after the Saudis.  Their proxy war against Iran via Syria and Yemen has given us millions of refuges, which the UK is not keen to take in, British made weapons drop on Yemeni schools but as we need the money we say little but merely 'tut-tut' to the Saudis and apologise for interrupting their stoning a woman who was raped.

There are no good sides in the middle east, they are all bad.  That includes Israel.  God has put the Jews back in the land he gave them but as yet not one religious type has become leader, none amongst the powerful follow Jesus, and they all too often follow the middle eastern way of working, hit back and hit back harder.  Peace will not follow.

I find the attitudes today hard to stomach.  The 'touchy feely' response pretends that we care about one another though this is not reflected in the way people behave and certainly not in daily London life!  I spent 20 years there and consideration for others is not the priority, bomb or no bomb.
Concerts for Manchester, very nice but we never had these when the IRA blew children apart in Manchester.  We certainly have avoided a concert for the 80 killed, including a BBC driver, and numerous wounded at that time.  We mention in passing the dead in two explosions in Baghdad then move on to other things.
Something is wrong with us when we care excessively for our own and not for the other.  In the 1940 Clydebank suffered very heavy bombing, great swathes were destroyed, people moved out and never returned, many were killed.  When asked about bombing Germany locals often commented that they did not wish any to suffer what they had suffered, even in Germany.  That is not an attitude found today.
On the one hand we stand around, arms round strangers shoulders, emoting for the dead yet on the other we ignore the causes and the dead elsewhere.  Other suffering, more constant, more deadly and far away does not bother us.  Did you know that for 30 years warfare of various types has existed in the Democratic Congo?  Over 5 million are dead but no-one cares, there is you see no oil there.

UK & US politicians and most others know we are responsible for the terrorists at home.  The Manchester bomber was one of many kept in Manchester and allowed to travel to Libya to attack Qaddafi and cause terror to many in a cruel manner.  He was known to be dangerous and that is why the UK were angry that the US revealed pictures and information last week, not because it interfered with any investigation, this secret was to be kept, it hasn't succeeded.
Were these three knife carrying men known also to the police?  Note how the police ensured they were all killed, using 50 rounds of ammunition, an unprecedented amount in the UK.  Was there determination to ensure they were dead rather than protect the public?

The death of a few Londoners means little to high government, top secrets re their middle eastern policies are much more important.  Our inept PM was Home Secretary, responsible for controlling terrorism at home and knew all abut the Libyans, now she talks tough and lies in her teeth.

Is it safe to travel to London?
It is safer tan any US city when gun crime is high, it is safer than many cities world wide. 
There is however danger, the traffic makes crossing roads difficult, some people rob you so avoid such places and use common sense when out.  Take forethought out there, not fearthought.  Since the latest outrage how many people have died on the roads this weekend?  How many fell down the stairs at home and died?  How many were stabbed at a pub fight last night?
Probably many more than we read about on London Bridge.
Terrorists are out there so beware, but ensure your member of parliament after the election on Thursday knows you know what is going on.  Share your thoughts with him and get right up his nose on Friday.  It is up to the government to seek real peace, and honesty about the Islamists in this country.

Sleepy Sunlit Saturday

My refined 16 stone bulk required some beauty sleep today.  Having spent a busy week I needed to do nothing and that is almost what I accomplished.  Naturally I awoke at 5:15 in the morning, I do when I need sleep, and rose to contemplate my breakfast.  I would have contemplated it better if there had been more bred, why do I always run out of it on a Saturday?

Later in the day as I crossed the park I noticed the light was different.  I tried to capture it but the light was so clear, almost like the light found at the seaside where it bounces of the water giving a different 'feel.'  This struck me forcibly even though my brain was fogged.  In spite of the warmth of the day few were about and while I was out late in the afternoon I expected to see more people about.  Maybe we are not used to sun?

The evening was spoiled somewhat by Real Madrid winning the European Champions League.  I had rather Juventas won but in truth this competition means little to me.  We are forced to see this as the pinnacle of the game yet I watched several play-off matches which were more entertaining and more interesting to me.  I do not identify with Juve or Real, even though I fancy Barca.  I want to see my team, my league and more of that, not overrated players in a fantasy league that has drifted away from the people.  This competition takes priority but not to me it doesn't, it is time for a change.

Rain

Being stuck indoors while the plumber mucked about under the sink replacing the taps that fell apart I had little chance to get out.  This was just as well as after I had finished the clear up the weather broke.  The usual weather round here in Spring/Summer is a few hot days and then a 24 hour period filled with thunder and lightning and torrential downpours.  I hide under the bed...choking in the dust!

The torrents that fell, only for a short time it must be said but repeatedly all afternoon, forced normal people indoors.  Those dressed for the heat ran, walked or stumbled murmuring anti-rain words as they made their drookit way home.  The rain begins suddenly and caught many out, I laughed empathised from the window safe inside.
However the wood pigeons, possibly because we have had so little real rain recently, made for the developing puddle in the park and thoroughly enjoyed the bath/shower that ensued.  At least two were there in the downpour, other birds appeared when the rain eased up searching for beasties forced to the surface by the water.  The Crows when they appeared also cast mere disdain on the rain as they do on anyone or anything that passes by. 
Birds, they are not human are they?

Something happened re the election today but I really don't care.  I know how I will vote however this plan has been changed since last week as I hooked myself onto the Twitter feeds of the candidates and discovered the UKIP man does not have one, I wonder why, I already offer advice to the sitting Tory, the Lib-Dem woman was impossible to discover info about and the Green was not worth it.  This left the Labour man who has lost any chance of my vote as I discovered he must have blocked me at the last election!
I wonder what I said?
I must vote but this makes things difficult.  We know the national outlook but it is here at local level votes count, or in this case don't as the Tory always wins.  Even more chance now they are using UKIP policies.  How I miss that inner London constituency where there was no guarantee for any MP no matter what party they belonged to, this one feels like a one party state!  
One more week and then we can complain about something else.

Tim Moore, Awful...

Amazon

A while ago I read a book called 'One Man and His Bike' by Mike Carter in which in need of some stimulation he gets on his bike and cycles around the coastline of the island.  This takes him five months, it did not kill him!   I enjoyed the book, a gentle but indeed stimulating journey through the land, meeting people, places and himself.  I opted for this book by Tim Moore in the hope it would offer similar stimulating and entertaining views of people and land.  

I have been struggling lately to get through the books I have been reading.  These have been too heavy to rush and too packed with detail to be always easy reads.  So I broke of to read Tim Moore's book and I must say I have read it within a week!  It was a book that was easy to read and kept a hold of me all the way through, well until nearer the end when he began to tire me with both his opinions and forced humour.

The idea of the book is based on an accidental discovery of the Isle of Sheppey in the 1980's.  Here in the mist he and his wife blundered into crowds of holiday makers enjoying the delights of the foul seaside on offer.  Twenty years or so later he decided to pay them a visit again.  This time it was a dying image that he met.  People had moved on, caravan sites were almost empty, and the sun shone.  From this he decided to tour the country, visiting the worst places and staying and eating at what the public and others called the worst eateries and doing son in an ancient suitable car, a Bulgarian built Austin Maestro!  To make things worse he chose the worst music of the day, and we all remember it so to save earworms I will not mention any of the worst 80's music, he chose 348 tracks of this vile output to accompany him.

He travelled east up through Great Yarmouth, Skegness,Grimsby, Hull, Middlesborough and Lochgelly.  He returned via Cumbernauld where a local did the decent thing and attempted to kill him, Barrow, Southport's 'Pontins'Rhyll, Nottingham and several places I have missed out.  To those who have been here they would realise he has chosen bad places very well.  If the intention was to see how places had changed he succeeded, all had fallen apart since Thatchers time, the 80's and the 90's had not been good to them.  Vast areas of derelict land where docks, industry, coal mines and the like may once have stood now if they contained anything possessed industrial units, often closed. (This journey I ought to say was about 2010)  Asda and Tesco dominated many places as did the 'Brutal' architecture of the 1950's so loved by thrusting young architects.  To be fair many wished to replace the vast loss of housing the war brought and provide modern light, well provisioned housing, often it was good at first and a disaster as time passed.  Those moving from a slum in 1951 ( "cough" a very good year) into a house or flat with bathroom, kitchen, running water, bedrooms aplenty and decent neighbours rather like my parents did were overjoyed with what they possessed.  In Sheffield such housing was well thought out and only in the 70's when jobs failed and the early tenants moved away and were replaced by the losers of society did the place fall apart.  Brutal car parks in town centres were once everywhere, many now removed, workless areas led to depression, loss of dignity and an abundance of anti depression drugs being handed out by doctors unable to cure the situation.  Each town had a slogan, each slogan the author tells us fails to inspire, don't we know that?  Some had people working hard, others had given up, some councils appear to be trying, others less so.

Tim stayed at the worst hotels and boarding houses, some of us can recall similar results without checking 'Tripadvisor' first.  Boarding houses and hotels often appear run by people who care little, charge a lot, and have never been trained in customer service.  Who is to blame is a good question.

The food he chose to eat was repulsive and he gave far too many needless details about this.  Just as the descriptions of things found in hotel rooms were often needless, especially if I was eating.

It became obvious that this author was indeed a 'poncy Londoner' travelling around sneering at common folks.  He appears to speak to few people except those he meets in pubs or restaurants, and pubs are not the best places to meet people.  He wants to see depression everywhere, so why not visit parts of London pal?  Too many people he knows might be there I suppose.   

His visit to Lochgelly clearly shows the agenda he carried with him.  Settling into a Cowdenbeath pub for the night, grumbling about the place as he does so, he gets a bus, eventually, to Lochgelly a small mining village of around 6800 people.   Here our poncy Londoner enters two pubs, mocks the accent, as he does everywhere, and makes out the folks just sit there getting drunk.  This handful of people are enough for him to gain knowledge of the town.  However his real reason was to discuss the 'Tawse.' This allows him to launch into his predisposed opinion regarding such weapons and yet offers no suggestions as to dealing with the indiscipline now found in all schools.  All too often he discovers what he expects to find, deprivation, depression and despair.

He was wrong.  Mike Carter found some despair but a great many decent people on his journey, why did Tim find so few?  Could it be his boasting of how much he could drink in how many pubs had something to do with this?  A clear head would have allowed better conclusion, and removed many boring passages from the book.  Maybe people would then have talked to him?

Tim Moores intention is to write a humorous travel book, in the beginning this works well but as Barrow and Billingham are seen in the rear view mirror his humour begins to be forced.  He tries too hard to keep up the gag, too often desperate to fill a line with adjectives contrasting the view with something horrible, using his wit when a simple description would be better.  By the time Tim reached Rhyll it was getting tiresome.  Believe me I know when humour is forced or tiresome, I am told about this daily!

Still having grumped about his poncy Londoner sneering, insulting Lochgelly and Cowdenbeath where my mother was born and which I know well and would happily discuss their better points over a pint and a hatchet, mine, I would still recommend this book as a look at a Britain that may well be passing away.  Much 'Brutalist' architecture is rightly being destroyed, almost all industry already has gone and gleaming factories in bright industrial units are not in any way like the industrial past.  Remembering that the author looked for the worst and that he was looking to find bad things so we can ignore many of his conclusion, we can tell that out there huge areas of Britain are not connected to what is seen on our TVs or blabbed about in the media day by day.  The great and the good go their way filling the media with their distortions but the real people as always just have to get on with it and most of them do.  

At once a depressing but enjoyable book, one I was loathe to put down, in spite of the poncy Londoner, and I am left wondering if I can contact the chap in Cumbernauld and pass on Tim's London W4 address...?  

Read this book!