Fun Friday...

A day of excitement.

Washed this morning because I thought it was Sunday.

It wasn't.

Spent too long on cereal breakfast while reading papers online and crawling through Twitter.

Amazed at how much space the 'Daily Mirror' gives to Royal stories, especially when they are so flimsy. 

Eventually went for haircut.

On way noticed how much my Tweed jacket has shrunk hanging in the cupboard over the past two years.

Met a museum worker.  Gossiped.  

Had haircut, £9:50, enjoyed chatting to the few customers there.

Wandered home via the park.  I wanted to check out the tent that was appearing as I left the house.

It appears to be connected to the building, a centre for disabled people, and is full of tables, chairs, tea and biscuits I suspect.  I did not go near.

A few people were in the park, just before noon.  

No youngsters, the adolescents were missing, not at school until next week so must still be in bed.

Clambered up stairs, again convinced the landlord has added steps to them.

Put on the washing, annoying the neighbours by doing the heavy stuff.

Made dinner, main meal at midday in bit to ease diet.  This appears to work.

Wasted time arguing with folk on 'Daily Express' comments.

I am now convinced they are either Tory activists, 'Express numpties, or the 77th Brigade.  Some have an enormous amount of postings, some appear to want to continue the argument, using strange posts, and some appear to have several names.

I could be wrong.

 

As the washing hung over a heater I realised it was almost tea time.  This I ruined with a Scots sausage roll, burnt!  The neighbours never ask me to cook.

Now I sit in my bed, realising I am missing the football, whatever it is, listening to the distant sound of the film 'Dirty Dancing.'  I am not amused by that.  Over in the gardens they have a film show once again.  Quite why they always use such ghastly films I know not.  Maybe they are looking for the randy teenage audience?  The music is ghastly also.

The weather is fine, which has helped make the day.

However, I am not sure my heart can stand the excitment daily...

Wednesday Wittering

 

 

Hmmm... I think I have found the result of following all the diet advice I have received.  My diet has changed today, at least up till now, and I am hungry I can tell you.  The bag of oven chips, not much loved recently, pleads to be opened as I scribble.  

To divert attention I worked.

Yes, that shocked me also.  I thought my stiff back might ease if I did something to make it move so I sorted out the mess in the bedroom, hung up things lying around for yonks, and then grabbed a wet cloth and removed eons of dust from the shelves, doors, window...  It all looks much improved, though I wonder if I will find anything when I look for it.  

I noted while inside the cupboard that I was going to Spring clean it two years ago and that I failed to achieve my aim.  I looked at the masses of stuff in there and did what any man in my situation would do, I closed the door.

That reminded me of other things not sprung clean in recent days, such as the files beside me.  Last time I sorted the 'important papers' file I had items going back four years, maybe tomorrow for that one.

Hmmm... I could not waken this morning and have been half asleep all day, I just cannot wait for tomorrow to come and see how wide awake I am then...

 

......................

 

You realise just how age catches up with us all when even the Rolling Stones begin to pass away.  Charlie Watts, the unsmiling, suave drummer, he actually preferred Jazz I heard, leaves us at 81 years.  Mick and Keith must be looking in the mirror now, though with all the drugs consumed I reckon Keith has a dozen more years to go yet.

 

Tuesday Twittering

It's the little things that hinder most.

I had orders to ttend the surgery for an 'Old Man's Test' at 11:35 today.  This meant I had to wash properly and ensure my clothes were not as scruffy as usual.  Having prepared I put on clean sox, there are plenty of them, most without holes, and here it was I struggled.  My feet appear to be much further away from me than they used to be.  Once upon a time I just got down and shoved sox on and moved.  Today I struggled.  My now expanded stomach does not help, even allowing for the recent exercise that has toned the fat, it still remains an obstacle for such jobs.  I may ask the nurse today if she can pop round in the mornings...

Update, no chance!

 

I slept well enough last night even though I lurched through some rubbish football. This featured an easy win for West Ham United, supported by so many around here.  The London overspill goes back many years.  West Ham itself was indeed part of Essex until the spread of houses took over so much of Essex it all became part of Greater London.  Few consider themselves in Essex in that region today.

By the end of the second world war I think the lines had been set.  Many out this way moved to just get out of the city, especially those with children, some for work, others just wanted a better life.  Today house developers cater to those with money who wish to move, the lower orders are not wanted in Tory lands, houses suitable are never developed.  Many West Ham footballers will however live in Essex, they can afford the prices for the mock Tudor buildings.  Funnily enough, there are many such buildings, mostly towards London, but when at the museum we had almost nothing on Tudor life in these parts, in spite of part of the Boleyn family being based down the road.  The English appear fascinated with Henry VIII, I fail to see why, many other bullying imperialist English kings make for better reading.

Early, I wandered round to greet the Stasi.  She was on the phone and ignoring me and also the beginning of a queue behind.  Eventually she placed her bets and began to deal with us poor mortals awaiting.  I pleaded my case, she fingered the cross and skullbone badge and gave orders. 

Obediently I entered the building, once she had unlocked the door, I than sprinkled my hands with the stuff in the container, once I found it, and took my seat. The nurse came on time, called me by name and ushered me into her cell.  

Here she probed, stuck a pin in, took blood, lots of it, placed it in one or two computerised measuring gadgets, weighed me, doubted my honest weight, gave instructions, informed me I was doing OK except for still being a fat slob.  Losing one stone, or whatever that is in metric, was not enough.  Leafleted, ordered, instructed, amongst which were no more drinking, no more fat breakfasts, no cheese, no more sausage rolls, etc, I was then thrust out into the street again.  

I promised to obey, to make every effort, to once more adjust the diet, especially as she has informed the doctor, who I may have to face, about my fat.  Hmmm... I may have to brush up on my communication skills, or flattery as it has been called if I meet her.

 

 

I forgot to inform the young lady, and all nurses look young to me these days, that I had finished a bottle of sweet red Greek wine yesterday.  She may have put that on the computer, so I forgot.  Then, having forgotten, I wandered up the road, bought six more bottles of this wine before the lorry driver shortage caused by Brexit leaves us short.  I had hoped this would get me 10% off but this did not occur.  However, I slunked off home, ensuring the nurse did not see what I was carrying, and returned to base.

Tomorrow the diet starts anew!

 

Monday Mumble

 

It is almost the end of August!  I am still living in May and this not helped by the weather still thinking it is March.  However, a mistake occured and in the afternoon the sun shone and forced me out of the house.  My back has joined my knee in aching, I did too much of the wrong exercise after a brief layoff, stiffness rules, so the weekend was spent indoors where I wasforced to indulge in a football frenzy so the chance to hobble around was welcomed.

This reminded me not to exercise like I was 25, it appears my body is a wee bit older now.  Most frustrating when you cannot do what you once did without thought.  OK, most things I have done appear to have been done without thought, that is why I have so few friends and changed jobs a lot.

 

 

Some are enjoying the fruits of their, or someone else's labour.  An open top MG, not unusual around here.  The sight of a sun brings out these creatures in summer.  I suppose having bought one you must use it whenever you can in this country.  When the sun shines such individuals race to the garage, probably two car garage round here, pull of the covers, start her up and out into the countryside.  A bit disappointing when you have to trail through the town rush hour however, unless you like showing off.The Essex lanes would appreciate this vehicle and the driver would be pleased with himself scooting around the back roads.

 

 

With Afghanistan filling the papers, thousands scuffling at the airport, 'our boys' trying to calmly support anyone in need, we realise that Boris and his leading men will once again be on the beach.  Just who is paying for their holiday has not yet been discovered, so we will watch who jumps into the Lords next time.  

The Army appears to be doing a good job in a difficult situation.  The US commander demanded the SAS cheif stop running around Kabul collecting UK folks and delivering them to the airport as this was embaessing the US.  Strong words were exchanged re this apparently and the SAS commander won.

I note Scots troops have now been sent out to aid the Paras at the airport, with Ben Wallace the minister now on duty, possibly the only one on duty, enjoying taking Boris's flak for him.

 

Nothing

 

 

There is nothing to say.  

No point in repeating the haranque that is filling what passes for the press in the UK.  Nothing new there, nothing worth reading, and too many excuses not to fire the foreign minister for being on holiday rather than working on Afghanistan (who paid the £40,000?). 

His boss was on holiday also.

So that will save him.

Too tired from walking to think.

Knees hurting too much from walking.

Too much football to watch to scribble.

Too lazy also but I will not admit that.

Brexit Beer

 

This is not as you may surmise my daily beer intake, indeed beer is something I use er, sparingly.

There is not a requirement to justify such an intake by mentioning Martin Luther loved beer, he was after all German, and his kind of beer would be different from that found there today, Lager mostly I think.  The difference between the two drinks is clear, men drink beer, boys drink lager.  Lager is the fuel for young men, football hooligans and those perspiring under a heatwave.  Men drink the brown stuff!  

Brexit however has interfered!

I read the other day a warning by a supermarket expert, a proper one, not one found in the daily Hacks.  He indicated how supermarkets decide what is shown on the shelves during a lorry or goods shortage, one thing that suffers is Beer!  The supermarkets decide what you eat, drink and can obtain, their power drives what is delivered to their door.  However, the big lager companies, Fosters, Heineken and Stella I think, pay for shelf space in supermarkets so their brew will always be available. Individual beers, no matter how big the brewery, on the other hand do not, the sales are less so they disappear.  Possibly this explains why empty shelves in Sainsburys are stacked with cases of 'Stella' lager?  They pay so they fill spaces.

Therefore, I am taking no chances and stocking up in a less than panic like manner with goods that I require, and indeed one or two others I rarely use.  Other items are disappearing at an alarming rate.  It is wise to ensure the major items, like beer, are well stocked.

The Brexit experts tell us real Brexit does not begun until January 1st, so you can imagine what things will be like then!  If we have no lorry drivers now, few more then, much more stringent paper checks at borders, how will goods pass through?  I suppose we could get the little boats crossing the channel to carry some goods with them, even Farage might let them in then.  

 

Afghans Again

Al jazeera

 

The blame game continues, accusations are thrown about, meanwhile on the ground thousands strive to escape the all conquering Taliban.  Questions as to how this occurred so quickly appear to have some answers.  For a start Trumps envoy Pompeo released many from prison, including the now leader of the Taliban whom Obama had locked up.  Agreements were made re the US leaving by May 2021, who knows what other deals were on offer then?  How much money was involved?  The Taliban set about deals also, local governers were paid, bribed, threatened, thus ensuring no opposition to the Taliban in almost every district.  The Afghan forces, well trained and well led until the US/UK departed suddenly, fell apart as desertions increased, the men aware of the impossible situation if they fought and so deserted and went back home.  Meanwhile Trump and his friends blame Biden for running away after spending the year grumbling he was continuing the war and ought to leave!  

Politics has no morals.

The immediate situation on the ground will not encourage tourism any time soon.  Rumours abound of murders of US/UK lackeys occurs and may be true.  What discipline there is may be rough and not controlled from the top.  Add also while the Taliban are a controlling group they are also a comparitively small group, most Afghans belong to their tribe or region warlord first and not to a dedicated islamic organisation, most just want foreigners out and the chance to get on with their lives.

The bleating in the west continues, many demanding action, few offering intelligent suggestions as too that action, most caring for the women and ignoring the plight of the men.  The people who have done nothing for Afghan women now demand action when the situation has become impossible.  I wonder if they offer cash to the organisations that will work among women in the region, or is that costing more than Tweets on Twitter I wonder?

A mess it is and a mess it will remain.  

 

A carful reading between the lines is now required.  With Afghanistan filling the pages the politicians will be sending out many newsworthy items that will be hidden by the loud wailing over Afghans and their problems.  As many MPs are on holiday, such as the Foreign Minister, it is likely a variety of difficult topics might be mentioned in passing in the small corners of the media, the corners we all ignore.

 

Duncan I and Afghanistan

 

Duncan I, Donnchad mac Crinain to you, 1001 - 1040, was King of Alba, Scotland to you, from 1034 -1040.  He was given the nickname Ant-Ilgarach, which, as you know, means 'sick.'  This may not be regarding his health, it may refer to his lack of ability, but who actually can be sure? 

His father Crinan was hereditary Lay Abbot of Dunkeld.  A Lay Abbot was one given the position in spite of having no formal religious position.  His mother, Bethóc ingen Maíl Coluim meic, (Of course I cut & Pasted it), was daughter of Malcolm II, a powerful King of Scots.  

Duncan became King on the death of his grandfather Malcolm II and this appears to have been an undisputed enthronement, though some suggest any possible alternatives had been 'removed' by Malcolm before his demise.  Whether Malcolm died in battle or on his death bed is disputed, but had he died in battle would Duncan have reigned?

Who Duncan married is also disputed though he he managed to produce two sons anyway, one later becoming King Malcolm III, King from 1058 - 1093, who became King by the simple expedient of bumping off 'Lulach,' Macbeth's stepson, and after him Donald III 'Donalbane,' Duncan I's other son became King.

Alongside Duncan rode his 'Dux' this was a man called 'Macbeth.'  This implies Malcolm realised the lack of talent in Duncan and ensured a powerful 'Dux' alongside him.  Macbeth certainly considered himself able to rule as we see later. 

In 1039, Duncan advanced into England and laid siege to Durham, not the easiest place to lay siege.  This followed on from the attack on Strathclyde by Earldred, Earl of Northumbria in 1038.  The result was disaster for Duncan and he slogged  home defeated.  

The next year he entered Moray and attacked Macbeth in an effort to ensure his two sons inherited the throne, this too was unfortunate as he was killed in the struggle on the hill and Macbeth became King.  The two sons escaped and later took up the throne in time.  

Any defamation written by English playrights can be burnt at this point. 

Duncan was buried near Elgin but they say he was later placed in Iona.  

 

The similarities beteen Scotland a thousand years ago and Afghanistan today are striking.  England also was a mass of warlords fighting for control, aided or otherwise by Danes who also considered they owned whatever was around.  While some kings were able to dispense justice and develop the economy of their land much time was also spent fighting of enemies both at home and abroad.  Other family lines decided they had a right to the throne, Danes from outside, various English from below, as well as weather, economy problems and ill health all had to be faced just as they do today.  The main difference today is that political weapons remove opponents, not the Claymore.

 

Afghanistan, Butterfly and GB News

Trapped behind the open window I found this man, a brilliant red 'Peacock' butterfly, turned into a dowdy, dirty, black 'Peacock' by my filthy sash windows.  As he was trapped between the two, as I moved one to set him free he flew up with the window.  It took an ages to get him out, and, when out, by flapping in a panic I could not get a proper picture, and eventually forced him down and out of the lower, open window.

It is nice to see such a creature flapping around the place but it does appear their numbers are shrinking.  The climate change caused by natural events and chemical abuse is having an effect.  The world is in a worse position than it has ever been, and politicians argue, from their holiday lets, about whether a woman ought to keep an Alpaca or not!  The world is heading for a bad place, save yourselves while you have the chance.

 

Finally Andrew Neil has recognised his limited Far-Right approach will not bring in the numbers.  So, he has been dumped back to the south of France (funny how GB News is paid for by Americans and other foreigners all living like Andrew abroad) while Farage and Dan Wooton takes over the lying for the Fascist Right.  

The numbers have been low, advertisers scared off, but government, that means Boris and his paymasters, have forced others to advertise there to support this limited station.  The polarisation of society, to the benefit of the rich, billionaire backed, Far-Right continues.  

Both here and in the US the same names are behind the push.  Murdoch runs Fox News, he refused to start one here as it would not pay, £65 million has been wasted so far by GB News, and yet the Billionaires in the US keep pushing for such stations to lie to the people and happily spend their cash.  Clearly they are making from it, either from the station themselves but most likely from the effect it has in influencing public policy.

Rich men getting richer by abusing the stupidity of the viewer is not new.  It will however continue as long as Boris remains in charge.

 

     Evening Standard

This cartoon tellsus all we need to know about Afghanistan.

For how many years we have sent our armed forces to fight an unwinnable war, losing men at an enormous rate, and for what?  

As I understand it, we went there to seek Bin Laden.  Naturally, led by the Americans, we were told to cover the exits.  Unfortunately he went out by the fire escape, one that US intelligence had not noticed.  Listening in to his phone did not help as he used pencil and paper to pass messages, so finding him was difficult.

UK expertise in Afghanistan was well known.  All remembered the 19th century wars on the North West Frontier, wars which we lost!  It was made clear then that this was not a land we ought to be fighting over, we would never win.  The Soviet Union forces fell into the trap, the one that fooled the Yanks in Vietnam, that heavy weapons, modern systems and paying the right people would allow them to dominate.  They failed.

So, the US, along with Lapdog UK went to Iraq and Afghanistan, both at the same time, both badly managed, both a complete failure costing millions of lives, including many of our own. However, the politicians die in their beds.

Now, having trained our forces for Afghan fighting, losing many for little if any success, we leave.  For some time we have been 'training' local forces, their quick defeat/surrender is a credit to our teaching, and little true fighting as British units has occurred. What 'special forces' may have done is unclear and possibly best left unclear for some time.  

Leaving in my view is inevitable and ought to have happened years ago, we cannot stretch to Iraq and Afghanistan, we are too busy delivering to Sainsburys.  Now we accept this, because the Americans are running away.  We leave a confused nation, run by the Taliban, though most of them are just locals fighting for themselves, and with possibly a warlord situation fighting for years may lie ahead.  In short, back to Afghan normal.  

The women?  What can we do?  

We abandon many translators and helpers to their fate so we will do nothing for the women.  Their education will fade, many will escape, some remain safe, but overall we can do nothing.  

What a mess.  

It is almost as if Boris designed this situation, it has all the hallmarks of his incompetence, however, it was other, proper politicians, who got us into the mess, now they take us out.  I wonder what soldiers who saw friends die or carry the effects of the conflict feel about this? 

Lorry Nonsense

 

 

The pubs, those that remain open, will be finding it easy to obtain supplies as most breweries use their own lorry drivers.  Supermarkets however are feeling the pinch.  The two local stores here are doing OK just now, though some items are missing and many shelves are filled with slow selling stock to make things look better than they are.  

With 100,000 missing lorry drivers, 60,000 EU men were sent back home for ideological reasons, Boris came out with one of his 'Balloons!'  'The Army HGV drivers will fill the gap!'  Brilliant!  Not only does this admit complete failure on the governments part but it develops that failure when explanations arrive.  There are only 2000 qualified, capable, HGV men in the British Army, 200 of these are 'Reservists,' (what we used to call Territorials) and all of these have full time jobs - as Lorry drivers!  So by using 2000 Army drivers to replace 100,000 missing drivers we are taking 200 drivers from the already over stressed lorry driver pool?  Do you think this has not been thought out properly?

 

 

South Sea Bursting Dream

For some reason the idea of living on a desert island somewhere in the south seas came to my mind.  The thought of sunshine, white sand beaches, blue sea (I would say turquoise but I canny spell that), no cars slushing by in the rain, no diesel powered buses, lorries and train engines pollutting the air, just sea, peace, warmth, and coconuts for me.

Certain problems arose such as how to get there?  No planes on my island, no jetty to encourage others to join so no boats, I suppose I must swim there.  

Then other wee problems show themselves, well food for one!  Coconuts are all very well but they cannot be mistaken for Beef.  Possibly the island might have its own animal life?  Goats possibly, but how did they get there?  Furry animals unknown elsewhere maybe, and of course fish and sea birds.  It might be possible to survive.  

There are other problems come to mind, spiders and creepy crawlies for instance.  Anything with six legs and about six inches long is not for me, I bet the place is crawling with them.  Things crawl out of the sea also, crabs of various sizes, possibly by the thousand, what then?  

Still hungry I see a storm approaching.  What happened to the blue sky?  No-one mentioned storms!  Rain, torrential rain, high winds and tropical hurricanes lash the island.  While this may scare the creepy crawlies it also scares me.  Just how much lightning was ordered here?

Then of course there is another problem.

Some years ago, possibly around 5000 BC people left South East Asia and transported themselves across the world nearby.  Soon, in dugout canoes, with sails and probably a log outboard to stabalise, they sailed across thousands of miles of sea, inhabiting such islands as I desire.  These Melanesians developed quickly a knowledge of the sea, their navigation astounding to travellers in the 17th century as was the speed of their flimsy craft.  These can be a problem on the island with their 'I got here first several thousand years before you' attitude.  They will have settled into a way of doing things that enables survival, travel and making the most of things while I long for fish and chips, curry, bottles of beer and live televised football.  

I might not go.

Of course today life is very different in such tropical islands.  Modern devices abound, as do modern problems.  Many plastic made TVs and Radio's will be there, electricty enables computers also, contat with satalites way above enables travel.  Of course all those plastic made items also washes up on the white sandy beaches often dumped from very far off.

Add to this near wars between the locals and incomers from Asia, conflict caused by larger nations, China, Australia, New Zealand, and Japan made a mess duringthe 1940's.  Today all are wishing to make use of the islands for their own purposes.  Modern life has brought many advantages but just as many problems.  It was always the same, innit?

So, I will abandon the absurd vision of escaping from woe by heading for tropical shores, I will check instead the number of sausage rolls in the freezer, ensure tomorrows dinner is brought out from there, remind myself the NHS is around the corner, as are two supermarkets, a railway station and several buses.  OK, the weather is very wet and sometimes sunny but it is weather I am used to.  I will not be like Alexander Selkirk and get myself abandoned on such a place like he.  Indeed, he went a bit mad while there, though to be sure he was a bit rough bfore he left.  I am therefore satisfied to go mad slowly while near Tesco. 

Seagulls, Steam Engines and Brexit

 

I was raking through old pictures and came across these seagulls squatting on a bridge somewhere in Dorset many years ago.  They appear very calm, indeed cuddly, but that is because there are no Chip Shops nearby.  The river below leads into Poole Harbour, an amazing large expanse, but the food stuffs these boys seek are at the other side of the water.  I am left wondering how they survive, they certainly look well fed.

This brought to mind the report that Boris had 'almost drowned,' while holidaying in Scotland last year.  That and the midges were, apparently, a nuiscance.  Considering he was there for three days that is some story.  The report claims his security guard aided him when his surf board, or blow up duck, began to drift away.  If this story is true I suggest the security guard is fired for his actions which amount to disrespect for Scotland!  

Some things about Scotland are indeed worth seeing however.  This is the steam engine that took me from Fort William to Mallaig I think in 1995.  The journey is worth enjoying.  The scenery, the steam train, the bits and bobs in your hair and face as you put your head out the window, all these are worth it.  I went up a couple of times, though I doubt the once busy fishing port, seal and all, is not as busy today.  Tourism restart will help the scattered village but I doubt many are enjoying Brexit now.

The train however will run if the virus and government allows.  Worth a wee hurl on the 'Jacobite' as it appears to be called these days, though the name may have changed again.  

 

Now I totally abhor those who panic buy and stock needlessly.  Nevertheless with lorry driver shortages and price increases daily (10p on all bottled beers in Sainsburys this week) I thought I would panic buy and stock needlessly.  So I have been gradually adding extras while in Tesco and Sainsburys and filling the cupboards.  

However, it is fresh veg and fruit that is the problem.  All oranges are suffering from delays at ports, lack of drivers means Tesco waste tons of such stuff, all other stores must be similar, and worst of all bottled fizzy water is not seen as important!  At 17 pence a go this is a wonderful summer drink, when not available the only other fizz I can find comes in beer bottles, this is not wise.  However, I suffer this.  Brexit success continues...

 

Rush Hour Cars, Brexit and Forums.

Now I am all for warm weather. Where I come from it is always good to see it, we saw it so rarely up there.  Down here in this xenophobic nation it is more common, this county is supposed to have the least rainfall of all, so why do they grow all the crops here?  Anyway, when the sun shines we enjoy it and I am happy if the temp reaches 70.F and stays there.  

However, there are drawbacks.  

Today we have rain showers in between sunny spells, this gives all those driving their big open topped cars in those sunny spells the opportunity to bless us with all the pleasure of hearing the loud and indeed bad music they listen to!  Open windows, open top cars, occasional idiot with loud transistor, remember them? either will do, but we have to hear their poor choice of bad noise.  

Add to this the eejit who thinks we need to hear his loud phone calls, business sounds good where he is, and pleasure is abundant for all around, well maybe not for the man in the following white van who clearly has his own opinion on this.

No, I am not jealous.  I have no wish to join the 'rush hour' and sit in a car moving at two miles an hour in a queue so long you cannot see the beginning of it.  I have long lost the need to own a pretentious large expensive vehicle to impress those around me.  Indeed, I have not got the money to do so, and I would not do this, unless the Good Lord does present me with the maroon coloured Landrover I have been asking for these past few years.  

I do however, have a bus pass...

Bah!

It was good to get out of here today to return the empty beer bottles vinegar bottles and mayonnaise jars to the recycling bins.  I have been spending far too much time on Twitter and newspaper forums. The 'Daily Express' one in particular.  The Brexiteer is one with a closed mind, closed so tightly no fact can change it.  One grumbled 10,000 migrants have clambered into this country, I indicated 60,000 EU lorry drivers have been banned by Brexit, can these migrants not drive?  This did not go down well. 

The EU is at fault for everything, but free England, never the UK, has got them beat.  For a start the 'Express' extols our deal with the Far East, countries like Thailand, Laos and Vietnam.  These replace Germany, France and Spain!  For the Brexiteer this is a success?  A deal with Australia has enabled us to make £400,000 a year from exports, the Aussies make £1.5 Billion from the deal!  

This is another Brexit success?  The 'Express' reader, not counting 'Bots' or the '77th Brigade' doing Boris's work, does not like facts, he is blind to anything but Brexit, his life depends on this.

 

 

There is however, worse.

On Twitter I got involved with an American, so you can imagine the lack of knowledge, who boasted he had not been vaccinated even though all his workmates had been.  

Now the media today is full of such people bemoaning not getting vaccinated because they were considered physically strong, believed the lies on social media, and then catching Covid and sadly passing away regretting their foolishness. How sad then to see someone boasting not being vaccinated, made worse by claiming that he was following Christ Jesus and trusting him for health.  Indeed he ought to do this, but Jesus, like the vast majority of Christians, would say 'Get the jab!'  Several US pastors have caught the virus, some have died, all say 'Get the jab!'  We get vaccinated against measles, chickenpox, shingles, polio, smallpox and other things, yet we are supposed to consider this one 'evil?'  Some still believe the pandemic was caused by Pharma companies, some by the 'New world order' and others believe still that Bill Gates has inserted a bug into them to follow them around or tell them what to do.  In the UK most people call that bug 'Google' or 'Facebook.'  

I have been amazed at the opinions found on such forums.  I expect them from closed minded Rangers and Celtic fans, but the depth of belief on strange theories amazes me.  The blindness and unwillingness to listen by the Brexiteer leaves me considering this a 'cult.'  Is there an answer?  

Q. 'Why did the chicken cross the road?'

A. 'To avoid meeting Nicola Sturgeon.'

Clever Dog and Unclever Media

 

To be a Police Dog these days you need good training, good food, a good handler and an ability to spot a devious, untrustworthy individual at one hundred yards.  Here we see an example of such a dog operating at close quarters.  

Priti Patel is looking on wondering if she can have the dog deported, he is after all an 'Alsatian,' or if you prefer, and she does not, 'German Shepherd,' therefore from the EU, and so clearly foreign, not English and must be removed. 

I would much prefer if the handler just let go..

 

Looking for interesting news is difficult today, there is none available.  The once 'left of centre' and Labour Party paper the 'Daily Mirror,' is now, according to the badly updated online service, not a place for news.  Today we are offered bribes for young folks to take 'the jab,' 'Love Island rocked by juiceiest episode...' varieties of sick people and their pains, celebs and their broken lives and a pub selling beer in 'two pint' glasses.  Nothing that could be called 'news,' nothing but 'soft news' to appeal to the public.  What you could call 'Bread & Circus' stuff.  

With such a corrupt and incompetent government why does the 'Mirror' of all papers not lead on said corruption?  Where are the items showing Boris and his cabal up for what they are?  Why is such news not considered worth chasing?  Has the 'Mirror' forgotten the readers, or does it instead pander to the readers unwillingness to face the facts about Boris and wish just to survive?

The opportunity to create a proper newspaper at the 'Daily Express' has been missed.  Instead of turning the 'Express' into a newspaper the company, now called 'Reach,' has spent much time slashing the number of staff, reporters and all else.  The idea of turning both papers into anti-Tory papers has not been taken, losses continue, income falls, what a waste of an opportunity.  Or can it be the media that attacks this incompetent government will not survive?  What then does that say of the reading public?

 

Saturday Delight

 

 

Saturday, a day of rest for many, of shopping for others.  

I managed to avoid the crowds by joining the crowds yesterday when the bread ran out.  This was a mistake.  Still, it would be worse today.  I fail to comprehend people who always shop on a Saturday when it is busy.  Surely they can find another time?  These big stores are open till 8 in the evening, five days a week, sometimes they open till nine or later!  How come everyone arrives at the same time on Saturday?  

 

However, proper football begins tonight, in the meantime we have the Blue bigots playing Livingstone. This was a poor game, especially as the blue bigots won.

This will have to do until later, whem we begin against the Green bigots.  8 pm on a Saturday night?  What a strange time to play football, some of the younger players may enter the field holding their phones and Lager bottles by mistake.

That church in the picture has been there for at least 800 years, possibly longer.  The pub, or a pub, has stood on that spot since at least the Saxons I reckon.  A building nearby has a beam that was dated to 1392 I think the man said. This is because this was the road from London to Norwich, and at Bury St Edmunds lay St Edmunds, so a popular pilgrimage route began, and money was taken...

 

BBC

 

So, at the ridiculous time of 8 pm we 'entertained' Celtic in the opening game of the new league season.  While it is true they are not at their best, neither are we, indeed that showed in the first half.  However, after taking the lead, we allowed them back in.  Tsk!  Still, improving in the 2nd half and after losing an undeserved equaliser we changed the shape and finished them off with a great John Soutar header a minute from time.  Add to that two saves in the Jim Cruickshank mould in the last minute of added time from captain Craig Gordon and the job was complete.  Heart of Midlothian win by two goals to one and it ought to have been more.  Even the ref was quite good for a change!

 

The Chief Apologises | Scot Squad | BBC Scotland Comedy

First LIne of Defence

During 1941 Adolf Hitler considered crossing the channel and invading the UK.  Operation Sea Lion was prepared.  He had not succeeded with the Luftwaffe attacks in the 'Battle of Britain,' he was very wary of the Royal Navy that patrolled the coast, and was well aware of the defences onshore.  Pill boxes, barbed wire, anti-landing craft devices, and pools of oil deliberately set alight awaited his men.  However, on noticing a long line of desks spaced out along each beachead he understood that the landing could not go ahead.  On each desk was placed a formidable Doctor's Receptionist, and the head of Germany realised nothing he possessed could get past one of those!

Today, I attempted to get past one of those.

At the end of the queue, attended late morning when the crowd had dispersed.

I waited.  

One by one patients were slapped down into place.  

Eventually I got to the window.  

I say window because under Covid we stand outside in all weathers and talk though a window to the Stasi representitive inside.  No consideration given regarding the weather.  

I enquired about the 'Shingles Jab' on offer to those pver er, 32, and also regarding seeing the nurse.  I was given a time, exact time, that afternoon for the jab and my questions ignored.  Regarding the nurse I was told "Phone up at 8 am in the morning to book."  The fact that 50 others will be doing the same was not emphasised!  

So I may be back at the window tomorrow before I am awake.

Not long before ten minutes to three I was back at the window, waiting. 

Someone was taking a while, a woman looked at me and her eyes over her mask indicated a sense of despair, he was taking a long time at the window.  Eventually he went, the next woman wasted my time as we despaired on the queue.  

I was saved by the Stasi asking if anyone had an appointment.

"ME!" I almost cried, and I jumped the queue.

"Indoors, use hand stuff, Waiting Room 'B.'" ordered the Gauleiter.

Off I trot.  The locked door is unlocked and I enter sloshing my hands in the magic liquid.

I find 'waiting room 'B.'' and wait.

I wait.

I wait again.

A nurse looks out from a door and asks why I am there, she walks down corridor, returns, says nothing and goes away.

A nurse comes up said corridor and passes by.

Sounds from corridor of talking and laughter.

I wait.

Eventually a woman of certain age comes out, and leaves by the outside door, the nurse turns and looks through me.

I wait.

My options are considered, however, just then the screen on the wall demands that no violence if offered to clinical staff.  This, it claims, is not right.

I wait.

Another, different, nurse appears from the corridor and ignores me.

A man enters, sits himself down without noticing me.

Such attitudes are not uncommon here these days.  I blame the London overspill.

I wait.

I continue waiting muttering about how busy NHS staff are and being happy to take my place and wait while more important people go before me.

I wait.

Shortly afterwards the first nurse reappears, calls the new man and he enters her door.

I wait, muttering about being first.

I wait.

An er, chubby nurse appears, ignores me, goes to fridge and removes what to me looks like the injection I am awaiting.  

Hope is kindled.

She passes me by and says nothing.

I wait again.

I have been stood standing here, all this time.  I did not wish to sit and be forced up quickly.  Pah!

I wait.

Then, glory be!  Chubby calls my name indistinctly.  I rush to her room.

She is pleasant. competent, asks all the right questions, by reading them of the screen I noticed, and talks amiably.  She prepares the needle, injects cheerfully, and throws me out by another door, happily informing me that it is raining.

Take away the wait and we have a smart, efficient system.  A good practice, well run, with good staff.

Oh yes, and the Stasi at the desk!

I may be back tomorrow to see the nurse...

 

Technology Bah!

 

Another day of technology success.

While Google and I are struggling to fix 'robots' and 'validate' and 'crawl' the blog I have at least fixed (I think) the other little local difficulty.

My war memorial was not being found and I thought I had found a fix tonight, and indeed it has worked!  Learning Portugese swear words while working in the hospital years ago has paid off.  The trouble with such things is a failure to comprehend the language, American, in use, and those many little things not noticed or ignored which bring everything to a shuddering halt.  However, I think that is a job well completed.

The failure to search the blog properly is a worry.  Fix the 'robots' it said though I have no idea what they are, but when I tried nothing happened, why?  

Because their machine does not fix their blog!  I await the result of the present fix attempt.  Bah!

And, now I have altered the 'sounds' on my phone the annoying rasping call has been replaced with a gentle plop.  Very much healthier.