11th Nov 2024

November 11th falling on a Monday meant a quick walk round to the town centre for the two minutes silence led by the British Legion.  A short, sharp service, a command or two, a bugler, silence, bar the people still wandering around looking either guilty or questioning what was going on.  Most however, stood their ground.  

For the British Legion this is their moment.  The more you see them you realise that this means a great deal to them, not just remembering individuals, but this is their occasion.  When I tried to contact them for the 2014 exhibition I received no reply.  On preparing the museums WW2 exhibition the curator tried again, no response.  They wish to keep things under their control, hence the occasional glare towards me and limited answers to my questions when I speak to them.  I am an outsider, however, it could just be me.  

There is no doubt pride in their continuing these services, though they did omit one for D-Day after all.  Clearly no member participated in WW2 though one man did serve in the Korean War.  Possibly he goes back further than the rest, and he was still there yesterday while age is catching up on him.  Like all soldiers he is not one to talk, there is an attitude of bloody-mindedness about soldiers which has less to do with fighting spirt and more to do with mental attitude.  It was often noted in many occupations since the war, an attitude that was not responsible, not his business, and try over there type of thing.  Just like answering an officer.  I've often come across their bad attitudes in time past and it does not breed good working relationships.  RAF men were often better to deal with as they had a more open attitude, however, as the middle class dominated the RAF during the war snobbishness did occur.  Douglas Bader, a 'war hero' and knew it, treated his batman appallingly, especially when in Colditz.  That attitude was seen again after the war.  

Today brings an end to Remembrance for the year.  Thankfully many more have taken to grumbling re the 'event' attitude that has sprung up since BREXIT came on the scene.  Remembrance of the war dead was replaced by many as 'English Nationalism.'  Remembrance became a time to look back on 'England's Glorious Past,' that is 'England's, not 'Britain's,' you will note.  Instead of a poppy and a silence we had exhibitions everywhere.  Now some were very good and carefully done, many were to say the least 'tacky.'  A great outburst of national emotion in 2014 for the commemoration of the beginning of the Great War led to a huge number of exhibitions all over the place.  Though this has calmed down a certain element appear keen to turn Remembrance into another Halloween.  This must not be allowed to happen.  

Braintree & Bocking Remembrance 2024

 

Cenotaph Night

 

Spitfire

With Remembrance to the fore the British Legion usually do something in the town centre at this time.  Late on this afternoon I discovered they had a Spitfire on show!  This is unusual as the normal items are merely small arms and the like.  So I rushed off just in case it was moved.  Indeed it will be moved as it is only here for the day, tomorrow it will be on show elsewhere, and no doubt just as popular.  

When standing next to a plane you get a better idea of size, it appears so small in the air.  The cockpit appears to be quite tight for an individual, though the German fighter the Me 109 was not quite so good, and the heavier cockpit canopy opened to the side, rather than slide back making escape difficult.  

The Legion was as always there to talk and take contributions.  Personally I never find them that communicative though occasionally one of them will talk well.  They had no interest in the aircraft, only their own world was important.  This one has many medals from his time in the French Foreign Legion.  

Some kids were seen standing close by, an occasional male would be telling them how it was, though they themselves appeared to have been born long after the war.  Many I met who were children during the war told off how the sky could be black with aircraft of all types.  The local bomber bases nearby constantly flew overhead.  The men themselves making use of the pubs and clubs of the town.  The US airmen were popular with the townsfolk until they finally departed in 1992. 

Dank Thursday

I popped out today to post a couple of pre Christmas cards.  I discovered the streets are littered with somewhat dank leaves, the sky above having been under damp light cloud cover since Sunday.  There was however, no indication of people frantically digging deep underground shelters for the coming Trump apocalypse, that of course, may be happening in their back gardens.  Quite a few gardens around here have a variety of shelters left over from the last war, just a 6 foot deep hole in many cases, sometimes altered for later purposes.  They could stack their long life supplies in these I guess.

The shock of Trump's success appears to have shocked parliament, they have left early and will not return until Monday.  Some of them have even gone back to their constituencies to meet their constituents, not Farage of course, he is still drinking with Donald.  

It appears that once you become an MP nobody demands that you do your job, bar the party leader.  When the party leader does not do his job, no surgery, no contact phone or email number, no office, no staff, it appears there is nothing that constituents can do.  A recall maybe, but would they?  Do enough people in Clacton care?

Our MP, now that he has failed by incompetence in his leadership bid, has gone to ground until today.  Once more he is using 'TikTok' to inform the world of his opinions, once more the replies inform him of the worlds opinions in return.

Trump

Economist

 

In spite of humanities best efforts Donald Trump has once again won the vote to be President of the United States of America.  The world stares at this with disbelief!  How could anyone vote for s demagogue, a liar, a cheat, an abuser of woman, and a man who is mentally ill?  Though when you consider some of the presidents from past times he fits in well there.  

So, how are we to react when he takes office?  The absurd political system takes until January before he becomes President, do you think Biden will lead a revolt, just for spite perhaps?  No doubt he will be seeking to put many of his plans into action, especially the ones Putin pays for, and many daft ideas he broadcast will in fact be seen to be his wishes in real life.  God bless America, even though they have left him behind.

There is a rise in inept right-wing governments, democracy as we have known it has been thrust aside, the world we grew up in is no more.  

Yet:

The LORD reigns, let the earth be glad; let the distant shores rejoice.

Remembrance: Aged Statues

When I was a lad I occasionally walked across Edinburgh's North Bridge, a major thoroughfare that continues to bear thousands of passersby daily.  On occasion I woud note the statues placed upon the high walls on either side.  The walls were high to discourage desperate individuals from climbing over them and jumping into the Waverly Station below.  I noticed the individuals on this statue had what we call 'Pith helmets' on their heads, indicating service in hot countries.  It was some time before I realised this concerned th 'Boer War,' a war that occurred to much jingoist outburst during the years 1888-1902.  This means the war ended 49 years before I was born and yet I knew almost nothing about it when young.  In fact an occasional mention might have been made in the comics we read or some history book we came across, but no real information was found to my notice.  Our minds were full of the much more recent Second World War in which almost every person over 25 had served.  

Ask young folks today about the Boer War and some will have been educated concerning this during history lessons, ask them about the Great War and they may be more aquainted with that.  Ask the 'man in the street,' and I expect few would know much about the Boer War, indeed many may not even have heard of it.  

I mention this as I read that young people today, and most are young to me, are not wearing the 'Poppy' that remembers those who fell in two wars and the little wars since.   This is interesting yet not surprising.   Youth is looking for fun and joy, excitement and adventure, wars and killing are not seen as this these days.  There are of course major wars not far away and this may be a turn off for many.  On top of this we remember those who died in two wars, the last being 80 years ago, when I was young a far off war about which I knew nothing was only 50 or so years in the past, why should today's youth think differently?  

A great many adults no longer seek to wear a poppy,what their reasons are can only be guessed.  Possibly the war to them is far away now, and they have no connection to it which they wish to keep.  Those however, who were born just before, during or not long after the war still have a connection to the experience.  Many had a father who served, or even died, a great many had mothers who worked 12 hour shifts for the war effort, some remember the fighting men based near them, the aircraft above and the bombs crashing down on their homes.  

Such as these do remember well.

However, time is passing, soon these two massive conflicts whose effects are still with us will be forgotten like the Boer War.  The 'Boomers' are dying off, the memories are being crowded out with later wars, and society as a whole appears to have little interest in caring for servicemen who are disabled while serving their country.  Much of this is understandable, the third and fourth generation are far from the wars now, and it was ever thus.  

Those of us who can remember those who served, in our family or around us, will remember.  Many will join with those who now make displays for remembrance, though in fact this is all too often just another version of 'English Nationalism,' pandering to a desperate attempt at using ththese past wars to engender a patriotism for today, it is not remembrance of the dead from the past.  Since the first 11th November the date has been used and abused by many, let us remember it correctly.

 

Kemi & Tech

 

Another day of joy with tech.

I signed in to TNT the other day, I watched the football, and today I signed in again and was told 'NO GO!'  I requested a password prompt, the answer did not arrive at my email. 

I went onto the 'Contact Us' page.  Here I found AI at it's best.  

Eventually AI offered to transfer me to a human...nothing happened after long enough so I gave up.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr again.

Possibly Saturday is not the best tome to contact this lot.

I will try again on Monday.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr etc...

Yet another failing individual has taken the role as Leader of the Conservative Party.  She received more votes than the somewhat unstable Jenrick however, at least a third of the Party did not vote.  That says something.  

She is black, female, and so far that is all the media have said about her.  The fact is we know enough and most of us are wondering why the Labour Party has not come out and thanked her for giving them another 5 years in office.  

Another one with little sense of care for others, looks to the far right for support, cares more about Farage than what is required, and on Wednesday will be put in her place by the clammy Keir Starmer.

Not much for us in this appointment, just the prospect of another Conservative Party leadership bid soon.

Football Standards in 1970 : Hampden Park

For some reason which I can now no longer recall, I began to talk to myself about being at Hampden Park in 1970 for the Scotland v England game.  What got me onto this I forget but the experience of Hampden in 1970 is not one to forget easily.

Today the football world is littered with glamorous football stadia, before the fires and tragedies that brought about a much needed reconstruction for safeties sake not all stadiums were glamorous.  Places like Muirton Park Perth, the home of St Johnstone, for instance contained the only full sixed pitch outside of Hampden Park.  The surrounding ground was very much an ancient, crumbling second division affair.  Brockville Park, where the Falkirk team displayed or not their talents was called by some 'The Black hole of Falkirk.'  A pleasant enough ground for lower division crowds but problematic for anything above 5000.  

Hampden Park itself was where the Scotland team had played since the beginning of football under the Queens Park side who still called it home.  A large bowl where the 'Hampden Roar' was unequalled anywhere else.  Not that the Scottish 'Blazers' would have considered anywhere else as worth noting at the time.  Both at the end of the second world war and shortly afterwards the ground recorded attendances of over 148,000.  No ground in Scotland, or indeed the rest of what is laughingly called a 'United Kingdom' could equal this.  

This vast expanse contained a football pitch with a running track around it, while the terraces were comprised of what can be called 'grit,' held together and edged by wooden short beams. which did not always remain in place.  Stairways, usually unoccupied, ran down from top to bottom ensuring some form of access.  Crash barriers, or should that be, 'Crush Barriers,' were installed aplenty around the terracing.   On one of Glasgow's rare rainy days the ground could easily turn into a quagmire.  The slopes that comprised exits were soon bringing back Somme memories to ex-servicemen of a certain generation.  The terraces themselves were damp, clean shoes were never an option in these circumstances.  

As an example of a game from that time I mention one I attended, the 1970 Scotland England game.  We left Waverley Station on a passenger train especially designated for football fans.  A train comprising old coaches, somewhat run down, and set aside for the drunken hooligan element British Rail expected.  I was not sure why an international crowd would resort to drunken hooliganism but there you go,  British Rail took no chances.  There was no trouble, little comfort, I vaguely remember standing but not if we stood all the way there.  It was mostly quiet in our coach, and I suspect the others, and we arrived at Queen St  Station, Glasgow and somehow made our way to the ground.  We must have travelled by what was then called the 'Blue Trains,' as that was how we returned to Queen St after the game. 

Phil Richards Class 303

We encountered one problem at Hampden, one of us four had no ticket.  Browsing around outside the ground looking for a tout we encountered a small huddle of lads surrounding one man.  He was attempting to divest himself of the crowd while nearby a gentleman with clearly no connection to this chap hung about.  Understanding that tickets were somewhere in the crowd our boy plunged in to barter.  The totally innocent man nearby nodded, and a ticket was produced for the exchange of £1/10/-.  30 bob for a ticket!  £1:50 in today's money!  However, please note that official tickets for this game only cost £1 at the time.  Add to this that the SFA indicated after the game that 137, 500 small cardboard tickets were handed in at the game, while only 135,000 official tickets were printed!  Not a bad days work for someone.

Our tickets invited us to clamber up the not quite dry slopes into our section of the ground.  There we awaited the appearance of our mate who's ticket bore a different colour and gate to ours.  In the distance to our left, we saw him appear and begin to make his way towards us.  The ground was quite empty at the time and he had no difficulty passing through, or over the separating fences.  

As at all games at the time we stood in between two barriers.  We remained far enough from the one behind in case it broke and fell on us, yet not to near the one in front, so if that gave way we fell on them.  Practical requirements at the game in those far off days.

As it was the crush was great.  Next to us stood a 'Rob Roy McGregor' type, beard and bunnet and all.  He was confused by our group one of who called on Scotland with an English accent, caused by being brought up there, while unknow to Rob Roy another supported England with an Edinburgh accent but not out loud.  We spent much time moving in the crowd as such crowds constantly move.  Our main aim was to keep between out English accented Scot and Rob Roy.  This broke down however, when Colin Stein, through on goal, was sent over the knee of the England centre half!  The entire crowd yelled 'PENALTY!' and reached forward.  Quite how the ribs did not break I will never understand.  The Dutch referee responded as such Dutch referees always did in those situations, he ran away!  No penalty was given, though it ought to have been, and we all stood attempting to breathe properly while breathing fire at the Dutchman.  With aching ribs and Rob Roy to contend with this was not easy.

The game finished as a no scoring draw, only the second in such meeting since 1872.  Of course I had to be there!  Tsk!  I mean I had to be at the 1970 game, not the 1872 one.  

At the end we joined the crowds heading down the slopes, these now in a much worse state after the crowds had marched over them.  We waited while most had moved before joining them and at the bottom fought our way through those heading towards awaiting buses.  We naturally had to go the other way for the 'Blue Trains.'  Outside the ground a heaving mass of men, nearly all men, pushed through one another, all knowing the unwritten laws of such crowd situations.  

Two years previously we had been heading in the other direction towards the bus, to our right a gentleman dressed in the usual uniform of overcoat of the time, was indicating to the entire crowd coming towards him that they had to get out of his way.  In his alcoholic stupor he could not work out that by moving to his left a few feet and the throng would carry him home, if that is he was facing the correct direction.  We let the throng carry us on that occasion, this time our throng headed the other way until we were stopped beside a police horse slavering at both ends.  Here police control was in force, one long line of stragglers moved, then another, having avoided both ends of the horse we soon progressed to the train and back into the city centre.

Now it was  simple thing to get on an Edinburgh bound train, however, the crowd was queuing up way outside the station so instead we decided to await a later train and refreshed ourselves in  Glasgow pub.  

Glasgow pubs have always had a reputation, not always deserved. Pubs everywhere produce bad behaviour, not just Glasgow ones.  The late 60s and 70s were not a good time for pubs however, the two main breweries 'Scottish Brewers' and 'Tennent Caledonian,' were intent on producing some of the most bland pubs known to man, and the beer to go with it.  This pub, the name escapes me but it has probably changed anyway with time, was close by and quite crowded.  It must have been after 5:30 or nearer 6 pm by the time we entered, obtained our lager and found a seat.  We sat there filling time amidst the hubbub of noise, suddenly, on a table two tables down from us, an empty beer glass fell over.  Silence!  All looked around, no-one spoke, a hand reached out and reset the glass, all turned away and suddenly the hubbub returned and life continued.  

Then we ventured out, walked through the dark, damp streets to the station, caught a train, another long compartment coach, and headed up the slope back to the Waverley.  

Today's wealthy, soft, well provided for fan would not be able to cope in such circumstances.  Digital tickets, online booking, seats that they ignore and stand up throughout a game, no pie from the stall, instead almost a Takeaway meal, and now they consider bringing beer back into the grounds.  Train travel, along with a large 'Carry oot,' on a luxury electric train or perhaps driving in your own car to fret about the cost of parking when arrived is the other option.  No more fearing those kids who offer to 'protect your car' for money.  A softened 'Nivea' smothered generation would not survive football in the days of yore.  I wonder sometimes how I managed it.

Did I Notice the Budget...?

There was a budget today.  I ignored it.  Cheering all around, not because I ignored the budget, cheering from all on her side, no cheering from those who oppose her.  Tomorrow we will know the actual truth of what she has proposed.  

Leaders

For no good reason Karl Marx came to mind this evening.  It concerned those who set out to lead the world.  Marx had his ideas how to do this, all came from within his own mind, all turned out to fail.  Like the majority I have not read 'Das Kapital,' nor any of his other attempts at changing the world.  One major reason for this is my dislike of middle class types, and Marx came from money, trying to tell the workers what to do.  I am not one who considers the lower orders so stupid that they cannot change the world for themselves. 

Marx, with little experience of work, attempted to build a world of equality for all but forgot about human nature, the reality of God, and how equality cannot happen, people get in the way.  One example of this was Dennis Healey arriving in Moscow and finding all the waiting Russians awaited him from the First Class cabin.  He had gone economy.  He felt this reflected on how communism works, equality indeed but some are better than others.  Marx never understood this I feel.

Of course we cannot always trust Dennis, he was after all a politician and had his own opinions.  He had been a communist even while an officer in the war but soon lost that because of what he saw in 'Uncle Joe's' world.  

I recall the educated voice from a 'Socialist Worker,' informing us how we ought to support the miners.  I regret not informing him of my families mining past and questioning what his daddy did for a living.  I presume daddy did not go down a mine.  That particular organisation, like so many other far left groups do tend to be organised and run by the middle classes.  Rarely do we see a Keir Hardie come to the fore these days.  

Anyway, it is years since I was up in Highgate, years since I saw Marx's original grave round the back, years since I could climb those hills again.  Marx is done.  The communist life failed, because human nature does not work in a fantasy.  Human nature has not changed since the beginning, successful politicians, especially liars, understand this and succeed because of it.  Truth, policies, promises are of no account, just tell them what they think is happening, lie about how you will fix it for them according to their desires, and you are in.  This has always been the way.

Truth is better, but lies are simpler and more comforting.  Ask any 'Daily Mail' reader...

Monday Mope

 

It is Poppy time again.  

Already those appearing on tv football are wearing poppies, though I notice they all wear metal badge type poppies.  Only Irishmen do not wear them, no doubt upsetting some.  Only a few are seen around the town at the moment, not that I am out and about looking for them, but by next week many more will be seen.

Already some complain they are wearing poppies on football shirts too soon, only wear them on one day they insist, for me I care not, wearing them for the two week period until November 11th is fine by me.  But others always know best.

I expect a contest will appear online to see who offers the best display.  In my mind these displays have less to do with 'Remembrance,' and much to do with 'English Nationalism.'  Sine Brexit this has been one of the mainstays of those who voted for Brexit and a return to the English Empire.  These people never talk about the economy now.

I might be involved with the Kirks remembrance service, if so I will mention the women this year, possibly next year I will go for the 'Empire forces,' which some do not know about.  All this to fit into about three minutes!

Tommy Robinson, better known to all as Yaxley-Lennon, returned to the land of his birth for another stay at His Majesties pleasure.  18 months this time, all this for contempt of court caused by repeating lies.  Lies which he knew were lies but which helped him to gather support from the 'Sun' reading part of the population.  He called a young lad a thug and knew he was lying, he was ordered to pay £100,000 damages, and as far as I can see has not yet done so while living in luxury abroad claiming bankruptcy.  He still has a further charge to bear later this month.  

This man makes his money by stirring race hatred, using the lowest of the low, caring nothing for them and making vast amounts of cash, possibly via that nice President Putin, and appears determined to continue in this useless waste of a life.  

I wonder about some people sometimes.

How England Stole Scotland

 

Not exactly a new programme, however, it gives a good lowdown on how the lowdown English stole Scotland and its resources.  The English Parliament at Westminster still today steals all Scotland's resources for England's benefit, using the term 'UK' when they mean 'England.  This is supported by English business who put English 'Union Flags' on all their produce, including the ridiculous 'Bells British Whisky' which appeared in recent days.  I imagine Bell's sales have dropped in Scotland.  

From a historical point of view this is a good programme, well worth watching. Nothing has changed.

Community

There has been a deliberate and possibly orchestrated campaign on Twitter today implying that the shooting of the gangster Chris Kaba was racially motivated.  Many of these individuals, who have not appeared in past times, do not allow replies to their somewhat far fetched attempts to blame racist police officers for shooting dead a black man, unknown to them, in a car used for a shooting the day before.  Clearly the criminal underworld in which they operate has been bullying others again.

A flood of desperate pleas for racism have appeared, all receiving appropriate replies.  Some indicate their colour when replying, others do not, but it is clear that the removal of a gunman from the streets, and proof of this has been made available, is a good thing in most eyes.

The Met Commissioner stated many in the 'Black Community' did not like the police.  But what is the 'Black Community,' and which Blacks does it refer to?  Does it indicate people from the West Indies?  And if so which part?  Does it refer to Jamaicans or Barbadians?  Does it cover those from St Lucia or Antigua?  Who do they mean?  Could it refer to Africans?  If so, which Africans?  Nigerians or South Africans, Kenyans or Gambians, which?  

Of course it means nothing.  

The term 'Black Community' is short term for anyone Black, and it is used mostly by those who are not willing to obey the law or settle down to a normal lifestyle.  Many Blacks live and work in a wide variety of occupations, storemen, bus drivers, doctors, nurses, pharmacists, footballers, civil servants, retail workers, factory workers, you name it they do it, just like everybody else.  None wish to be associated with the likes of Chris Kaba.  Indeed, many have been threatened and bullied into submission by such gangsters pushing their weight around and boasting of their 'strength.'  The 'strength' is just bullying the weak, not real strength.     

All societies have these, not just the 'Black Community.'  Such men exist in every town and region, usually pushing drugs these days and throwing their weight around in the local area.  Some Black, some Indian, some Albanian, most local Englishmen.  

And where are the fathers of these young men who get into trouble?  Where are the social services that have been lost these past 14 years to provide alternatives?  There is little likelihood that this government will change anything, but something is required throughout the UK to give young men some chance of a decent life before the temptations of crime offer easy riches.