Sunday Blether

The Bees and the beasties have been making the most of the times.  The gardens are full of bright coloured flowers inviting them to feed and investigate.  They are also full of midge like flies and kids, I am not sure which is worse.  

 

 

In between the thunder, lightning and rain we see blue sky around here.  Up north they are melting in the heat, fires are seen in woodland areas, not helped by idiot campers and their fires, and firemen are busy everywhere.  

London meanwhile is again flooded, the thunder round here was the edge of the storm, we were lucky.  In the south east heavy rain filled rivers and streams, underground passages flooded, as indeed did railway stations and the Underground.  The heavy rain we saw passed away quickly enough.

 

Climate change is real, whatever people say, and worldwide we are facing heat, rain and conditions which we are unable to control.  Russia suffers forest fires and soaring heat, Germany endure heavy rain and floods, all unusual for the time.  Whatever the cause it is time we opened our eyes to the problem, but as usual money talks.

Heading home as rain began to fall these three RAF aircraft flew over in formation.  I think these are 'Chipmunk' aircraft, they used to be the first line in RAF training but things may have changed.  It is also possible these are overflying some event (can you under fly an event?) and may no longer be official RAF planes.  Nice to see however, though I noticed the passing women gave no thought to the craft above, tsk!

 

 

I have had problems with the Blogs.  Some of the War Memorials cannot be found, though I can reach them.  Google tells me this is a problem they can fix.  However, as it involved the mobile phone this meant I had to reset the thing.  This has been having problems recently, I lost all my numbers, and other things fell apart, so a reset was required.  Naturally, since getting the phone they have altered everything and it took ages to work out what I was doing, much still has to be done.  Tomorrow I need to investigate the 'robots' problem, whatever that is, which needs fixing also.  This would be easy if I knew what they were talking about!  I am in an area of which I know nothing.  With my technical ability I could lose everything, especially my mind, by nightfall.  

Signs of the Times

So many things about Boris Johnson remind me of Hitler.

Both had broken families, both had bad fathers, both Hitler and Boris put themselves before anything else.  Neither were as they appeared, both were actors for the crowd.  They both put themselves first, all else can be manipulated to their desire.

Add to this the influence of political shicanary from both the well known Dominic Cummings and the less well known Steve Bannon.  Dominic's approach has been one of both arrogance and efficiency, he got Boris elected.  Steve Bannon while unknown to many is far more dangerous.  His influence has aided Donald Trump to get into the White House, an influence which appeared to end when he disagreed with the bumbling president.  Who knows whether an influence remains.  Bannon however, has influence behind the scenes in many places, all following the Far-Right approach to life.  He attempted to establish a centre in Italy to propagate his opinions, this was refused, and now an appeal through the courts is under way.  The last thing Italians require is another Far-Right organisation.  Bannon has influenced Boris greatly.  Look at how Boris has used his power.

Boris used the queen to stop parliament debating his bills.  Boris, like Adolf, has the media on hs side, the BBC now controlled by his placements, other influential positions are being given to his donors, friends, supporters and those using him for their advancement, just like in 1930's Germany.  The media not asking questions in print or on TV means the vast majority do not understand what is being done to the nation.  One Bill going through parliament could lead to investigative reporters being jailed as spies for treason if they question government policy!  How fascist is this?  The courts which have ruled against many of his, or his cabals Bills, are threatened with losing the right to question.  Another Far-Right move, suggested by Bannon perhaps? 

The public, like the Germans in the 30's, supports moves to halt immigration and get out of the EU because they have been told lies about both for 30 years.  The constant repeat of the lies, blatant in places, leads to many more than willing to support Boris and his government.  A complaint majority, however slight, a 'culture war' that neither Boris or his followers understand, can easily go wrong.  There are many forces at work in the UK today, none of them pretty, and few comprehend how near to a fascist state we are becoming.

Royal Spam

If there is one thing the editors of the grubby press know it is that the Royal Family sell!

There is an unquenched desire to know the secret dealings within 'Buck House' and other royal accomodation, the nation wants to 'doff the cap' yet know how their 'betters' live.  This has always been true, loyalty to the throne lies deep in the mind of many in the UK, usually it is just a mythical view that is grasped.

Since Diana was stupidly married by Charles, he needed a son or two, rather than Camilla, a woman he liked and who liked and understood him.  Instead we have the pantomime of Diana, now continuing under her demented son (who is the father we ask?).  While Kate and William, a man with his mothers brain, follow a PR exercise appealing to the nation as kind, thoughtful people who cause no trouble, an ideal King some say, but in truth as false as all the rest.  Harry and his woman, clearly she is the brains in that outfit, continues to draw fire from all around by putting his foot in it rather than keeping his head down and seeking good PR.  Not for Harry common sense (too 'common' perhaps) and consideration, instead a book, his life's story, but who will write this, him or her?  

The 'Daily Star' famed for the less than considerate headlines, offers a glimpse into the book, and indeed a glimpse of the reviews still to come.  We wait and see.

This will all end in tears, and many sales for the dying gutter press.

 

 

I have been getting lots of spam recently, all identical, all informing me I can make various amounts, usually around $1300 montly.

It is the spelling of 'montly' that makes me wonder about these posts.

Each one from a different name, each offering such success, each offering success 'montly.'

Two or three come through each day and I am left wondering if anyone actually falls for such clear Spam?  I suppose someone with little English might fall for it, I wonder if it pays?

Maybe I ought to try this myself, maybe I ought to send out millions of Spam and get rich....! 

Freedom?

Stolen from HIGNFY

So True!

Panic!

Panic!

Fear and alarm spread through the town yesterday.

People stood around, pointing skywards.

"It's an alien," said one.

"It looks like a spaceship," cried another.

A man carrying a sign saying 'Repent! The end of the world is Nigh!' walked across the park, mumbling.

"Who is 'nigh?' asked one woman,"Isn't that a Welsh name?"

"Yeah," said her friend,"He was that Welsh bloke that made the NHS, remember?"

The police were out in droves, much use of radio, personal phones and waving truncheons to keep back the panic stricken mob.

Eventually, dressed in all his robes, the vicar appeared standing on a van roof.

"Worry not my children," he cried. "The bright shiny thing is the sun!"

"Wot?" cried one man, "the one Murdoch owns? It can't be, I got one in me pocket, it don't shine like that."

"No,not that one. Nothing shines in that one.  This is the real sun, the one that heats the earth."

"Ooooooh!"  Cried the gathered crowd by now full of wonderment. 

"Who pays for it?" asked one. This is a Tory area.

"Nobody pays for it,the Good Lord gave it to us to keep us warm."

"The who?" came a shout.

"No, not the 'Who,' the Good Lord!"

 "So why does it never show, why always behind clouds, rain, hail, and mist?"

"Because you are here in the UK and not in Africa," said the preacher.  By this time he was beginning to wonder why he had come here.  "I may pop down to Maldon Quay and see if there is a banana boat going somewhere," he thought.  

The congregation was beginning to disperse.  Fear was eased, the sunglasses and T-shirts emblazened with unfunny slogans and adverts appeared.  

Then the English did what they do best, they went to the pub and had drunken fights with one another.

 

Useless, Me?

At last!  A toy that speaks for me!

I've been looking for this for many years!  

All I need now is a 'Man at work' with him suitably not working in any manner.  That would sum up my long years of work.  

OK, I have no idea where this can be found, I came across it on Twitter.  

But it is realistic,innit?

 

 

Boris Johnson made an announcement regarding 'Leveling up,' I ignored it.  There would be lies, more lies, distortion and lots of balloons, but nothing actually making a difference.  He has however, forced the 'Second Reading' of the NHS Bill that would allow him to sell of the NHS to his privatising US friends.
Much anger, all ignored. 

The Nazi takeover of this country is well under way.  

 

 

Maggotts.

 

Disgusting!

I opened the bin this morning and found many of these inside!  

All those bluebottles that have plagued me recently have been laying their eggs and now attempting to take over.  

This is not what I wish to see early in the morning.

I had fish last week, this left a stink around the kitchen.  I cleaned up as you do, but the stink remained.

On Sunday morning I cleaned the bin as it still stank somewhat, unwillingly as I do not work at weekends to avoid irking neighbours.  The bin was fine, the new bag clean.

This morning I opened the bin and found dozens of beasties there!

So another bag required, maggotts, fine in hospitals where they still have a use, but not in my house, now flushed down the bath plughole.  The kitchen now cleansed again properly, new bag, clean smell, and awaiting sausage roll for lunch.

I could do without this in the mornings.

A walk up to the shops produced more cleaning stuff and a small bottle of Lavender pong.  This is supposed to drive flies and such like away.  So, now the place pongs indeed.  The window's have been dabbed, the lampshades, the kitchen areas and bins, all the places the beasties may like.  Hopefully that will put them off.  So far it appears to work, though whether that is coincidence I will soon find out.   

 

Saved from English Crowing by Roberto!

 

 

What the weather girls, in doors in a nice studio, call 'light rain showers,' have been falling for the last 24 hours on and off.  Late last night I had to check it was indeed rain that had water sweeping its way down the gutters rather than the tears of the loud English fans wending their way home.

Not long after the game ended I could hear shouting outside.  Individuals, groups of two or three, larger groups also, heading home under the influence and none too chuffed about the result.  

Indoors I was laughing! 

Twitter and I, plus a couple of million 'Jocks,' Welsh and Irish, were rejoicing at the end of the English imperialist dream of success.  Much wit was in evidence, and not a little smugness also.  This, not without reason.

Having England and the English as a neighbour has not made Scotland's life easy.  Since time began, let's say about a thousand years ago, the southern bullies have tried to steal what is now Scotland for their own personal glory.  It is probable that we can begin this in the reign of the big bully boy Edward I.  Being over 6ft tall at a time when most were not anywhere near that height gave him the ability to throw his weaight around.  As King of England he wished to subject Scotland to his rule also.  We refused, and while Edward tricked John Balliol, then King of Scots, into a prison cell and false subjugation, and while William Wallace led the opposition to the brute, Scotland remained free.  (Note, you can be King of England, but not King of Scotland.  You can only be 'King of Scots.'  If you fail the Scots democratically chop your head off.)  Having chopped up Wallace in 1305 Edward thought he was getting his Scotland at last.  However, by Edwards gracious death in 1307 Scotland was set to be a totally independent and efficient country in its own right.  

There were many attempts by the bully boys down south but none succeeded until the Lairds were bribed and threatened with loss if they did not sign Scotland over to what became laughingly known as 'Great Britain in 1707.'  This was rejected  by the people and still is.  This 'Great Britain' was soon to be seen as nothing more than 'Greater England,' and Scotland and Wales comprise England's last colonies.  

Add to this the  smug arrogance of the said English at all times.  Most recently under this Conservative government, no matter which PM, in which Scotland has been, like Wales and Northern Ireland, considered irrelevant in Brexit or indeed anything else.  Bully boy tactics do not make for peace.

English fans, led by the media who know what the readers want to see, have emphasised their dominance over all others, a truly xenophobic jingoism which pervades England, even among the 'nicer people.'  It is deep in their heart, the English consider themselves better than all others.  Facts do not intrude here, reality is not required.  An ill-thought vague view of History tells them they once ruled the world and therefore have a right to rule it again.  Hence Brexit!  The stupid idea that if you leave a successfull union and 'go it alone' you will succeed because 'You are English!'  This is turning out to be false, but they do not yet accept this.

All this adds up to Scotland, amongst other nations, despising England.  It is easy to like many of them, we have lots in common, but the attitude that prevails is 'England first' the rest are our colonies.  

You know what they can do with that!

 

 

So last night, a half decent, but lacking fire up front, England side, played a half decent, but not the best version of Italy in the Euro 2020 final.  Italy dominated after England's lucky goal in the first minute.  Had that goal not gone in we would all have been done and dusted before ten O'clock, as it was Italy, full of the usual style, lacked the flair we usually see to break through England's defence.  The goal came eventually, from a 'British' style corner that England failed to deal with, and somehow England survived until the end of extra time.  

Penalties are not the best way to win a cup final, however there is no alternative that makes sense.  With penalties there is no good in being clever, just do not look at the goalie, possibly glance at the opposing corner you are aiming for, and just hit it had into a corner, low or high.  Several players tried to be smart.  This rarely works.  Sure some talented players do this and make it look easy, it isn't, and it showed last night.  There have been many, mostly, but not only, young players who have failed at penalties in this competition.  I doubt they will fail next time.  It is good, once the manager has stopped hitting them, that he picks them up and rebuilds their personal belief.  One or two however could do with being whipped first!

There were many jumping on the bandwagon before the game, now they jump on the detractor bandwagon or disappear into the gloom.  Politicians abounded in praise of their team, even if they were not sure what shirt they were wearing.  Today they remain silent, except for the usual backbench Tory spouting gentle racism.  

The Brexit mentallity showed yesterday, England fans in various parts of the country, including Leicester Square, were fighting with one another, bottles thrown, near riots preveailing.  All this while TV folk spoke of the team 'Bringing the nation together.'

Tee Hee.

Not long after midnight, the cries of the departing fans ringing out in the darkness outside, we saw Blue flashing lights as police cars left the station behind me to 'investigate' parties of failed celebrants.  No stories from these have been released sadly.  The rain did not deter the cries, and I was too cowardly to open the window and shout "Forza Italia!"  The landlord would not like his windows removed.

From the time the penalties were missed the three Black players who missed theirs have been subject to clear racist abuse.  I noticed one man on Twitter, named MALIK, telling Mr Sako to, 'Get out of my country!'  I thought that interesting.  Much worse was seen and some published in the press will be costing a few their jobs today.  Even the 'Met' police will be investigating this.  This was to be expected, just under the surface of the English lies a 'white only England,' and it takes little for this to emerge into view.

We can all understand how easy it is to be racist if the world in which you are brought up changes, especially when it appears to change so fast.  The governments of the day ignoring the 'white working class,' and indeed recently encouraging them to believe they are being robbed by immigrants, have all led to such attitudes deepening.  There is no easy answer to this, and Brexit has multiplied the xenophobia greatly.  

Italy however, with masses more immigrants than the UK, celebrate in style.  Many grateful for Scotland's support, and all Italians resident in the UK wary about their windows being put in.  None round here it appears.  

Today all was normal, the media trying to avoid stabbing players in the back, but that will come, and a quick trip to Tesco offered no comment from anyone re the game.  Tee Hee again!

I have tried to get people to offer manager Roberto Mancini the 'Freedom of Edinburgh' for his work in saving Scotland, Wales and Ireland, from the arrogant crowing an England victory would have thrust upon us.  Such service to mankind deserves a reward, and Scotland must not be slow to offer this I say.    

Viva Italia! We Hope...

 

Season's Greetings...

The proper football season did indeed begin last night, and it was quite good, as indeed expected.  Today, a stuttering first half was improved by the second and victory won, also as expected.  So the season is under way, football shorts are being bought, beer-belly or not, and money spent on PPV live coverage of the game, £10 today for Peterhead.  

However, the media ignored this for the most part and concentrated on the nonsense game at Wembley tomorrow night.  Twitter 'Trending' reflects the English nations desires well, they list 'Wimbledon,' 'Nazi Germany,' and 'Bobby Charlton,' as the top three!  A genuine, honest insight into the English mentality!  "We are superior, we won the war, we beat the Nazi's!"  

All this of course from people born after 1945.  Still, their History was taught to them by the 'Daily Mail,' 'Sun,' and 'Daily Express,' so you cannot expect them to understand what actually happened.

It is to be hoped, according to the Twitter discussions I have had in the last 24 hours, that Italia win by a vastly superior margin than usual.  Only that way will common decency return to the media, Twitter, and English life, once they have been released from prison that is.

 

 

Rain, Football

I am not the suspicious, cynical type as you know, however, when I wake to bright skies and sunshine, the warm air penetrating even into this dim lair, I expect it all to go wrong.  I know not why, living in this nation possibly is the reason, cynicism grows when the weather changes from baking sun to storm downpour every half hour.  

Living at the edge of Europe, cast out into the Atlantic, we receive the joy of west winds bringing rain all the way from the Americas.  Just take note of the hurricane season in Florida and a few days or so later that same storm will be dying out somewhere over Edinburgh.

With the joy of an east wind in winter, beginning in the Arctic circle, wending its way through Siberia and Poland and ending coming up my trouser leg, it is not to be surprised we are the people we are.

Southern winds are the opposite of cold northern winds, from the south comes Saharan heat, usually bringing sand with it, though only the very southern reaches notice this.  They might notice the little red Ladybirds that often accompany such wind, and they certainly notice the warmish southern rain from the Bay of Biscay.  As if we needed that!

Today the sunshines and the BBC tell us that rain, from the south, will follow on later.  How nice of them.  The people who lived in Doggerland would have known such things long ago.   I bet a swift sniff of the air told them almost as accurately as the powerful computers at the weather man's house can tell us today what the weather would be.  I am convinced that amongst the Mammoth tusks, spears and cooking utensils discovered on Dogger Bank there are also many umbrellas to be found.  They were not daft then.

 

Dunfermline Press

 

We have not even finished last years Euro 2020 as yet but tonight next seasons Scottish Football begins!  Kelty Hearts play Dundee United in the first Scottish League Cup game, this while last season has just finished!

In times past, we ended the season with the Scottish Cup Final, followed by the Scotland v England game.  That would usually be the end of April or early May.  There would follow all of June and most of July with no football whatsoever.  As a kid I hated this time!  Euro Championships were not shown at all, nor the World Cup shown until 1966, and the long wait for the season was too long for me then.  Today, I am tired of too much football without a break.  Covid meant Euro 2020 had to be put back a year, this means the next World Cup will be in 2022, next year!  This also means disruption as it is being held in Novemmber in Qatar and to avoid the heat it will be held in the dark!   Covid has not died, Bumbling Boris has failed to control the Johnson Variant, and all our football will be disrupted by the World Cup at that time.  What a shambles it will be.  Maybe we will get two weeks off next Spring before it all begins, but then that will be under LockDown again!

 

Telt ye!

Here I was, sitting here recovering after walking up the road, when I noticed it was raining.

This rain is coming straight down, stair rod fashion.

As I looked Twitter informed of a weather warning.

'Danger! Heavy Rain from, well, from Now until Then!' 

They could have warned me earlier.

Already the streets are swimming and the 'rush hour' is splashing its way slowly through the puddles.

Hee hee, I will not be out again today.

Tea, Deaf, Boris

ta.

 

I am sat here chock full of tea.

My favourite, best looking, and most intelligent niece, sent me a gift of tea and biscuits from the 'taverymuch' company.   The biscuits are frowned on by my highly specialised diet but were accidentally eaten just the same.  The chosen tea was also a change from the normal Sainsburys 'Red Label' stuff, and very welcome it was.

That this is the only gift my family have scraped together for my, er..32nd, birthday says something.  Most of them could not even get round to sending a card on time.  One of my good looking and highly intelligent niece's did manage to get a card, forgot to write it, then her daughter took her for a day out so it did not get posted, and I only got to see it when the daughter, also good looking and highly intelligent, posted it on facebook!  The other two favourite and good looking women both managed a card, three days late! 

It is not that I require anything from them, it is just nice if they get the dates right.  One niece managed to send everybody a Xmas card one year, nobody was missed out as was normally the case with her.  We enquired as to her efficiency, "It's because I forgot to post them last year" she said.  My brother got my Xmas present from her one year!  He did not send it on.  

On top of this shambles I have gone deaf.

Washing the other day left me deaf in the left ear.  Nothing I have done since has moved it.  Surely it is wax that is the cause, but the proper stuff to clear it has not made a difference yet.  Another week and I will annoy the doctor, well the nurse probably, just in case something has gone wrong.

Using only one ear is a huge disadvantage.  Nothing sounds the same, everything is different.  Noises appear from all around and are difficult to distinguish with only one ear.  I am amazed at how different things sound, and how much I cannot actually hear, the right ear being no longer as young as it was.  How those totally deaf manage I know not.

Guardian

 

Boris has been at work again.  This time announcing the end of lockdown to go ahead, in spite of the increase in the Indian variant numbers.  Boris and his pals are telling everyone to return to normal even though the variant is out of control.  Vaccinations are not catching up and even the new Health Minister Savid Javid says we can expect 100,000 to be hit by this virus.  These people are playing with the nation.  'Herd immunity' is being tried by not vaccinating the schools.  All their press supports this stance yet the health experts say vaccinating schools ought to be done.  The privately educated scholars may get vaccinated, you wait and see.

 

Tour

 

Vintage Everyday

 

Cycling is a great activity.  The freedom found moving three times faster than normal walking while on those country back roads is an excellent experience.  Convenient in towns also, bar the psychotic drivers, environmentally healthy, relatively cheap, good for fitness and just good fun.  A great experience cycling.  

However, I watched a few mnutes of this years Tour de France and soon found myself exhausted.  How do they ride uphill at 30 mph?  I could not do that downhill, I had to get off and push.  Today they race on through the rain, lycra hidden behind rain jackets, helmets dripping and roads slippy.  I await the crashes on those white lines at busy junctions.  In fact it was the downhill in the forest that brought the first accident.  Rubbed down by the Medics and his bike replaced off he went, slowly. 

I used to watch this every year, I remember the Spaniard, name forgotten, attempting to win five times in a row, failing sadly at the end, but what an effort.  Since then I have watched much less.  Most of the time I was not interested in the race at all, I was looking at the world around them.  French landscapes pass by, the Alps offer great views, chateau's, castle's, church's, war graves, memorials, housing of various styles, villages and ancient towns, rivers, and their contents, wildlife, and the people desperate to see the 'Tour' go through their town.

In fact I was losing interest I no longer fantasised that I was the break away hero seven miles ahead of the chasing pack, desperate to reach the final before they catch up, and always, always failing.  

Today, I care not.  In fact I find myself wondering why these men do this?   I can understand the need to prove your fitness, to 'be a man,' to 'beat your previous time,' and play your part in the team, after all this is how they make a living.  However, I just find myself thinking, "Slow down, enjoy the view, you might never see this again."  Racing along at high speeds in a crowd these men see nothing of the country they pass through.  I begin to wonder what is the point?  Of course I may be jealous, not getting out much is annoying, and as I see them climbing through a forest, uphill, it causes me pain.  The fitness levels are high among these men, not to say the drug consumption.  Don't say that!

Then there are the motorcyles.  Cameramen, standing up to catch the pictures while going round wet corners, a variety of other bikes for TV or security, photographers, who knows what.  Then there is the Skoda team cars to supply drinks and food and bits of bike, and the crowds along the way.  No matter how obscure the area, no matter how high the mountain, people will be standing along the route, sometimes having waited there since late yesterday evening.  Would you?  I would certainly watch if it came by, though when it did a few years ago it remained two miles from here, but clambering several thousand feet high to watch them go by?  Not me.  How long does it take for the parade to end?  Several minutes, including those trailing after falls, but not long enough for me.  

Now I want to get the bike fixed and get out, maybe one day soon.

 

van Dam

 

Psalm 24

 

 

Psalm 24

My reading this morning led me to wonder about this God who created all things yet seeks wretched sinners like us.  The King of Glory in particular struck a cord for me.

v1-2. ‘The earth is the Lords and the fullness thereof.’ 

A reminder that God is creator, we are created, we and this earth belong to him alone. 

 

v3-6. Those who worship God can only do so when they reflect Gods holiness. 

So many churches today do not do this. I fail miserably.

 

v7-10. The King of Glory, Yahweh, the Lord almighty, he is the King of Glory. 

His Glory is his Holiness and his Love.  You cannot get one without the other.

 

This 'King of Glory,' one perfect in every way. His Holiness is not the empty holiness of humans who bear this title, his Holiness is real and powerful.  

Nothing that is unacceptable can approach him.  

Yet he reaches down to the sinful people on earth, the ones he has created, the ones who ignore him and fail to even consider his existence.  This God, this loving God is so desperate to gather people to himself to share an eternal existence with him.  

This God is so keen to have us with him he takes human form, spends some 30 or so years amongst us, unrecognised by the majority, and lays down his life on a cross just so we could be with him.  

And the majority still are unmoved.

God basically asks and requests, people to receive him.  

How low can a God go? 

This is Almighty God coming to his people and offering life abundant! What love is this that takes our place on the cross? He took our sin nature, and again calls us to turn around, offer ourselves to him and walk his way.

He himself will be always with us, why do we linger? 

Why do we hinder or doubt his love for us?  Why?

 

 

Erebus, Terror & Palin

 

Erebus

 

This is a good book, well worth reading.  

It contains historical research, 'Boys own' adventures, detailed examination of the Ship and the men who crewed her, and is very well written.  

I first attempted to read this book during lockdown and just could not be bothered with it at the time.  Recently I picked it up again and on this occasion I could not put the book down.  The story raced along and indeed by the end I found myself wishing the author had got another book ready for us.  A very good read indeed.

HMS 'Erebus,' was built in 1826 in Pembroke Dockyard and commissioned into the Royal Navy.  Known as a 'Bomb ship' she was not a sleek vessel, indeed she was a plump small, tough ship, which as it turned out, was ideal for exploring the polar boundaries.  She was given the name 'Erebus,' a Greek word for the dark regions of Hades.  That's a good start!

 

   HMS 'Erebus' trapped in ice.

  

With British victory at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 (Don't tell Blucher) war disappeared from Europe for a few years.  This, mixed with the Victorian quest for knowledge and exploration, adding to the desire for nationalistic heroes saw the Royal Navy play its part by sending ships on exploration and scientific journeys around the world.  Much of the world knowledge we possess today began during these, often daring, voyages.  However, for a year or two she was used on routine naval duties patrolling the Mediterranean Sea.  After this she lay unused until the James Clark Ross expidition to the Antartic regions.

 

Sir James Clark Ross

 

During their Artic adventure in 1831 James Clark Ross, accompanying his uncle James Ross commanding the mission, reached and discovered the North Magnetic Pole, very important in the shipping world.  During 1839, this time in command, James Clark Ross sent off in search of the Southern Magnetic Pole, and to survey and discover what lay at the southern end of the planet.  Several, including French and American ships, had already ventured south but the magnetic pole had not been discovered, Ross was intent on finding fame, fortune and the magnetic answer at the Pole.

 

HMS 'Erebus' 1846 in the Arctic

 

Here we see the adventure.  The 'Erebus' accompanied by HMS 'Terror,' no exploration was carried out by one ship alone, arrived in Van Deiman's land, now called Tasmania, Ross met another Arctic adventurer Sir John Franklin.  Now inserted as governor of the colony Sir John really wanted to be out there exploring the polar regions once again. This far off prison colony, now receiving many more prisoners as Botany Bay was no longer being used, the routine of such life must have bored him.  After Ross and his crew had enjoyed their time ashore the 'Erebus, accompanied by the 'Terror,' headed south.

 

HMS 'Erebus' ans HMS 'Terror' in the Antartic

 

Palin's writing makes this an exciting adventure.  It is one of those books where you can feel yourself on the ship with the men.  You see the ice cliffs towering a hundred feet above them, you feel the minus 24 cold, you taste the various birds, seals and fish caught for scientific experiments and then used for food, you go up with each rising wave and down as it descends, and never once suffer the seasickness.  This may be because of your safe seat, warm coffee, and being in a building that does not rise and fall with the tides.  

Ross sailed through the ice further south than any known human had done before.  The scientific work continued, even if eaten, drawings were made, papers logged, measurements taken, and the coast, if it could be found among the ice, recorded.  Many areas in that region now bear his name, though the two distant volcanoes the party noted were named after the ships.

Three times Ross took his ships beyond the Antartic circle, on one occasion almost losing them between two moving ice flows, all this in the dark!  In between they rested in Tasmania or the Falkland Isles before returning home to cheers, and work away from the sea!  The Magnetic South however, he never reached.  It would require a journey of over 300 miles over the ice to achieve this, and that took many more years.

 

Sir John Franklin

 

While many of the men who undertook the South Pole trip returned to a more normal life the ships were not retired.  The Southern adventure had been successful but the Royal Navy, or at least those in charge, were determined Arctic explorers.  They wished to discover the great prize, the North West Passage, and set out to do just that.  

Again the 'Erebus' and the 'Terror' were called for.  Their squat shape made them ideal for such work.  Many advances were added to the ships, supplies abundant also, and now with Sir John Franklin, the experienced Arctic explorer in charge, and much relieved to be out of Tasmania, even though he had been removed by the London government, it was expected to be a success for English pride.  'England' was always the word used, never 'Britain' notice.

 

Gordon Leggett

 

Setting off in a blaze of glory the two ships headed north.  They reached Greenland and wintered on a place called Beechey Island.  Here three of the crew were buried.  No sailor, bar an accident, ought to have died in a well stocked, well run ship, within such a short time.  Only some 6 months had passed when these men died.  A mystery that has entertained many since the time though the tinned food, hastily prepared and packed may have been one cause. 

However, three years after the ships sailed there had been no word from them.  They disappeared from sight.  Search parties found little to help them, the graves alone were discovered.  Over the following years many searched for evidence of the two ships, with information from the local Innuit some idea of the struggles aboard began to appear.  It seems a party left the ship and tried to move south, possibly they asked help from the innuit, who would have given it, possibly national pride and superiority stopped them doing this.  They were after all, 'Englishmen!'  

Evidence of the disaster has slowly accumulated, though it is as yet impossible to know all the facts.  However, 129 men went out seeking fame, and did not return.  In the middle of the Victorian age this was deemed a major disaster, indeed, a national disgrace.  It was only in 2014 that the wreck of the 'Erebus' was discovered underwater.

Michael Palin knows the areas he has written about, he is well versed in travelling the globe.  His account of the two ships adventures is enthralling and informative.  The writing holds the reader and it is difficult to put the book down.  

I recommend it.

 

'Erebus' today

 

Football, Harrassment, Funeral

 

I woke this morning to find the Twitter feed stuffed full of 'England expects' jingoism.  The media full of this imperialist pomp.  England, inadequate at heart and desperate for a role now the UK has been destroyed by Brexit, has the Brexit generation seeking an enemy, and Germany, a footballing nation they cannot defeat, are the main enemy.  Desperate for a purpose they are reduced to crowing about 'Two world wars, and one world cup.'  Such sentiments ignore the role the French, Australians, Canadians, Indians, Russians and many other played in the Great War.  It emphasises the role of 'standing alone,' though Canada, Australian, India and others stood with us, and ignore the role of the Soviet Union in carrying the bulk of the fighting on land until 1944.  As for a 'World Cup,' we can merely state 'The ball did not cross the line,' and let them bleat.
The crowds will return to Wembley tonight to worship England.  Hopefully England will be thrashed causing many of us to sleep well tonight.  The flags adorning so many cars today will be piled up in the bins by morning, pub windows broken, police assaulted, and the usual peaceful England gatherings noted.   Oh, and the indian variant found wandering through the crowds also.

However, the usual suspects, putting English football to the back page, lie about Sajid Javid bringing lockdown to an end in July.  It must be said that the 'Daily Mail' is hammering the need for an end to the lockdown for a reason.  The reason being their boss, one Lord living as a tax exile in France, also owns the 'Metro.'  The 'Metro' is the free paper found in railways stations and on buses, this means that lockdown has removed his audience and the 'Metro' sales are now down by 80%.  No sales, no advertisers, no advertisers no money for the absent Lord.  Hence the 'Mail's' coverage.  The 'Daily Express' also offers such hope, more for themselves than their owner.  This while the majority of their staff, at least those not yet made redundant, work from home.   

Will Lockdown end?  The Indian variant is rampant in the nation, it must not end yet.  Will rising sickness numbers and a higher death count force a continuation? It ought to, but the Tories worship cash, not people.  

 

Chris Whitty, the somewhat sombre government health advisor, was once again harrassed by yobs yesterday.  This is not the first time he has been attacked this way, though the last time was by an adolescent who suffered his mother wrath for his rudeness.  It has become the thing these days to harrass those you disagree with.  Kim Leadbeater, the sister of the MP Jo Cox who was murdered by a right wing looney, was harrassed by a group of Muslims the other day.  These came  from outside of Batley, the town where a by-election is under way.  These are well known Muslim activists and were freinds of George Galloway, a wayward attention seeking failed MP, once tipped as leader of the Labour Party, now a mere 'dog-whistle' at every by-election.  His chance of succes is nil,  Kim Leadbeater has a good chance of taking the seat, and the outsiders harrassing her may well have helped, not hindered.  Whether she would be any good as an MP is irrelevant these days, back benchers just do what they are told.  The need to hassle and mob those you dislike will continue under this government, Boris himself always under a mob abusing him whenever he appears, not the sign of a successful PM.   It must be remembered that Chris Whitty's father was dragged out of a car in Athens while working for the British Council and murdered by Abu Nidal terrorists in 1984.  It is no wonder Chris comes over as he does.  Such experiences will not help a man such as he.

A very interesting experience yesterday, I watched a funeral in London from home via 'Zoom.'  'Zoom,' is proving its worth these days.  With people spread out across the world 'Zoom' is a real benefit.  The deceased had been laid to rest in the family grave and then there gathered here many to pay respects and hear those, often untold, stories regarding her life.  Memories come rushing back when  people speak as do memories of those spoken about.  Situations that arose and their results, family history and background.  All good and proper.  Beginning at 3 pm, well usual church time of thirty minutes late, it was clear, as the son spoke of his mother, that we would not see the 5 pm kick off at the Euro's.  As the preacher spoke, recounting her early life and his experience of her when taking charge of the church 50 years previously, we realised we might not see the 8 pm kick off!  

However, all went well, the zoom camera worked, the sound was obtained, and occasional people were recognised at a distance.  Zoom put to good use, but hopefully not being used in this way again for some time.