It's over

Christmas and the new year period that is.  Not that I am an old curmudgeon but in a way I am as relieved as ever that the whole shebang is ended for another year.There are several reasons why i feel like this, I'll try to explain.

The season of goodwill to all men (and presumably by extension)  to all women.  Great idea in principle I suppose but much of the goodwill seems to be false, artificial and insincere especially to people who are not family, friends or acquaintances.  to express greetings, bonhomie and wishes to virtual strangers for  short period each year seems odd, why should it only be at the years end and not throughout the whole year?  Surely that would make life a little more pleasant every day by at least acknowledging that there are others on this planet apart from ones immediate circle.

Then there are the annual exhortations from all manner of shops, businesses and services to buy their wares in ever greater quantities in an almost vulgar display of conspicuous consumption much of which expenditure, apart from food items, will be useless, unwanted or just cast aside at the end of the season of merrymakiing. Thist is just another example of how folk are being conned into thinking that happiness can be bought no matter what the expense may be.  From long ewperience I know that this be done, happiness is a state of being contenet with what you already have and the warmth, love and security of friends and family around you.  Not for one moment am I about to launch on a religious  bent because those who know me understand that I am not in the least of such mind, rather instead a home brewed humanitarian approach to life.  Yes I have beliefs to sustain me especially in difficult times, they tend to be if anything of a spiritual nature, totally unconnected with any form of conventional, organised religion.

This time of year is seen by many as a time of reflection which perhaps in itself is not a bad thing.  But, then again, why should such personal introspection be seemingly cast aside for the other weeks of the year, it is just something that the media likes to indulge and then move to other seemingly more important matters such who is shagging who, celebrity tittle tattle and more besides.  Perhaps many folk including politicians of all ilks could do worse than consider a little and occasional self-examination.

The foregoing is just some of my reasons for an increasing dislike of the so called festive period.  Added to these is that as each year passes is a greater awareness of things past, not so recent past but back to childhood.  Being born into an age of austerity gifts at Christmas were mot manifold but those received were very appreciated and treasured for many years, unlike today where conspicuous over indulgence particularly of children is almost expected otherwise parents  may be thought of as modern day relatives of Ebenezer Scrooge. 

Many childhood Christmases for me are very treasured memories, times of great excitement and happiness, no matter what Santa brought for me.  One particular year a Hornby clockwork trainset appeared  in a huge box, I was just so overjoyed no matter that it was secondhand but came with several engines, numerous carriages and wagons plus a huge assortment of track and points.  My father, bless him, was almost as excited as I was at being able not only have tracked down such a thing but also have been actually able to by it form.  Believe me, many, many happy hours were enjoyed playing with it for a good number of years. 

What particularly stands out in my memory are my parents, especially my mother who died sixty years ago this year, thankfully I lost my father many years later.  It is especially at Christmas that they are both uppermost in my thoughts much of the time, many happy memories and some sad ones as well.  I miss them dreadfully even now especially my mother for the short time we had together.

These memories and the gross over commercialisation of the whole thing I find somewhat upsetting but try to not let it be obvious to anyone even to those that know me well, consequently it is not an easy time of year for me.  I just wish that Christmastime could return to being it once was, a simple, happy and sincere season rather than what it has become.

2012

A Happy New Year, everyone!

Bonne année à tous!

Seems strange even now...

Still have not quite got used to the French way of Christmas and New Year, they just do things differently to the UK, this despite the fact that we have been here almost eight years now.

The festive season starts much later with seasonal goods appearing in shops only really at the beginning of December, not like there as soon as the summer holidays end. shops and malls are decorated beautifully but differently and there is not a constant background noise of Christmassy type music playing over the PA systems.  Of course there are all manner of festive offerings especially chocolates and other chocolate products, I have never elsewhere seen hypermarket aisles dedicated to nothing but choccies in every shape, quantity and variety imaginable, it is almost mind-boggling.  Just thankful that I'm not a chocoholic otherwise I could overdose in a very short time!

The family Christmas begins around late afternoon on Christmas Eve, the shops have all shut by one o'clock.  Things are happening in many kitchens to prepare for the traditional Christmas Eve feast with the extended family assembled, for many the main feature will a huge seafood stew cooked carefully and lovingly by the matron of the house with as many different varieties of both fish and shellfish imaginable.  This would be preceded by fresh oysters, vast quantities will have been purchased that morning.

Following the main course of fish comes the inevitable cheese course which, despite France making more different cheeses than there are days of the year, will follow tradition and be either Brie or Camambert accompanied by what is called 'salade'.  Now that may look suspiciously like the English word 'salad' but there any resemblance ends for it is not a plate of various salad vegetables but just lettuce accompanied with a French dressing.  Next will be dessert, now very few French housewives ever cook a dessert but often is a an ice-cream based thing bought from the supermarket or more likely a truly magnificent tart or gateau from the local pattiserie, some of these offerings just have to be seen to be believed as they are true works of art, seemingly criminal to cut into them.

Finally coffee and perhaps some digestifs will follow, that's not digestives as in biscuits but a nip or two of coganc or armagnac just to settle the stomach.  The evening is not yet complete as it is traditional after dinner to exchange presents brought of course by Papa Noel.

Christmas Day itself is a continuation of the extended family theme centering upon a  huge lunch of multiple courses, including a fish and meat course accompanied by suitable wines.

Boxing Day, ah yes, there is no Boxing Day here, 26 December is just another ordinary day, another working day for most folk except that this year as it falls on a Monday where traditionally many shops and businesses do not open on a Monday there will be more people enjoying an extended Christmas holiday.  Boxing Day sales?  Umm, no!  All sales are regulated by the government and may only take place for two six week periods beginning mid-January and mid-July.  Don't ask - I have and as yet there is no satisfactory explanation, but this France after all.

New Year's Eve begins with shops closing around mid-day then the domestic pattern follows very closely on that of Christmas with the exception of exchanging gifts.  To general relief New Year's Day is a public holiday allowing recuperative space after the night before, usually a quiet-ish day before return to work the day after.

For ourselves we follow a more or less traditional English style Christmas, after all it is difficult to shake off  a very pleasurable and deeply ingrained habit of many years.  Rather odd really that this one still pertains as almost unwittingly we have adopted many Gallic ways, in fact if asked today whether we feel French or English the reply is invariably 'Frenglish' as we believe that we have have the best of both worlds ...

Christmas Message

May I wish all of my Blogroll readers a wonderful Christmas along with a happy, healthy and prosperous new year.

Cheers!

Bob

Greetings

I wanted to send some sort of greeting to my friends and colleagues at this time of the year, but it is difficult in today's world to know exactly what to say without offending someone.  Therefore I met with my lawyer yesterday, and on his/her advice I wish to say the following :

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, expressed or otherwise, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non addictive, gender neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday practiced with the most enjoyable traditions of religious persuasion or secular practices of your choice with respect for the religious / secular persuasions and / or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all, or whether to just ignore the whole thing.

I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2012, but not without due respect for the calendar of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make our country great ( not to imply that the UK is necessarily greater than any other country ) and without regard to the race, creed, class, status, colour, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting, you are hereby accepting these terms :

This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal without prior notice.  It is freely transferable without alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise nor offer by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/ him or others and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.  The wish, implied or implicit, expressed or otherwise is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year or until the issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.  Interpretation of this wish is at the risk of the wishee, the wisher may not be held liable for any interpretation thus made nor is liable for and consequent acts of good fortune or malfortune however arising.

 Any case of non-acceptance by the wishee must be notified to the wisher within seventy two hours of receipt, otherwise such non-acceptance shall be null and void.  This greeting is only valid until the first day of January, two thousand and twelve, if opened and read after that date then the greeting is at sole risk of the wishee.

Best Regards (without prejudice, errors and ommissions excepted unless subject to current statutes ),

Bob Oiseau

Utterly bizarre!

So there was I yesterday evening at an Anglo/French carol concert in a small village church deep in rural France singing away with everyone else when my mind drifted away a bit from the proceedings in hand to thinking about the words which I was singing.  Now carols are very traditional by definition with a solid core central theme, you know, Mary, Joseph, Baby, Bethlehem, cattle, wise men and all that sort of thing, as well as snow and bitter weather but what we were singing only bore any connection just by the only connecting word, that of 'Christmas'.

You may by now well ask what was I singing?  A cheerful little ditty entitled 'Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree', one with which many people are probably familiar.  My initial thought was what the hell does this have to do with the real meaning of Christmas which by very definition is the time of celebration of the birth of Christ and all that implies for the the Christian world.  Not a mention of any of the foregoing whatsoever, instead we are praising the delights of a tree, yes a tree!  Not any ordinary tree but one decorated, bright with lights and glittering with baubles, tinsel and a fairy stuck on top in a very precarious and presumably uncomfortable position.  Anyone see a remote connection the real Christmas story then?  No, me neither!

Back to where my thoughts had meandered then - by the way the rumour spread about that men cannot multi-task is utterly false and malicious as I evidenced yesterday evening by having apparently mastered the difficult art of singing and thinking simultaneously.  There was I in a seemingly bizarre situation uttering noises totally unconnected and sentiments with what some believe is the  real meaning of the Christmas season.  Not only doing this but in full public view and hearing as well!  Believe me should this happen at any other time of the year, especially in sight and sound of the populace at large, then it would be suggested that I was under the influence of mind altering substances, drink or simply barmy and could well be taken to what is legally defined as 'a place of safety' for my own wellbeing and protection.

Above all I was reminded of of a Christmas carol which once suffered the attention of the legendary Mrs Spooner presumably about inmates of a Hamburg lunatic asylum- 'God Rest ye Gerry Mentalmen'.

Finally and even more bizarrely this is sung to the tune of that well known communist anthem 'The Red Flag'.

Merry Xmas to one and all.

Now is the winter of our discontent ...

... made even worse by the number of wretched repeats on the box.

Last Sunday evening, BBC1, 2100, peak evening time - an episode of George Gently last shown not six months ago.  My thoughts were more like f*** me gently.

Several times this week at lunch time Trash in the Attic which Jane likes (can't stand the carp at any price) has been repeats with today's offering on at least the third showing.  Bargain Hunt, again not my choice particularly, has had a great number of repeats over recent weeks.

The remaining four channels, when not showing soaps, so called reality shows with talentless wannabes (and never willbes), how to buy/sell/renovate/move/tastelessly makeover houses, endless American detritus purely for the hard of thinking just being the tip of the iceberg in their apology of scheduling.

Oh yes, then consider the oft used labels such as 'A chance to see again', Films you have loved', 'Classic TV drama/films/ so called comedy shows trying to fool the viewer into watching them again.  Then of course there is the endlessly repeated Morecambe & Wise/Tommy Cooper/Two Ronnies etc which were funny on the first and possibly the second viewing but which now some folk must surely know the scripts as well as those originally performing them.

There will come the day, shortly I believe, that there will be a fresh offering labelled 'News bulletins that you have loved' in a desperate search to fill the allotted transmission hours.

Thankfully I no longer am an involuntary subscriber to the TV licence fee but those who are I firmly believe are being weel and truly had over.

Thank God for Radio Four and John Humphries :-)

RyanAir

Michael O'Leary, boss of RyanAir, is without doubt a brilliant publicity machine to rival the ability of Sir Richard Branson in generating free publicity for his airline.  Often his wizard wheezes are just that, designed to keep his business in the public eye as witnessed by recent suggestions that use of inflight toilet facilities will be charged to passengers whom avail themselves of such and that standee passengers may also be a future possibility!

There is, naturally, a negative side to such publicity in that many decry his unique airline business model for being a ripoff or even extortionate, many of these nay sayers have probably never flown nor ever will fly with this unique Irish entrepreneur.  Unfortunately this approach may have a possible negative impact on potential customers believeing that they will be ripped off.

Let's get to the bottom of this and expose what his strategy really is!  RyanAir is not extortionate, O'Leary just has a different and unconventional business model to other airlines. Much of the discussion surrounding him and his business methods is hot air created by people who have never travelled with that carrier, part of his business ploy is to go kite flying on many occasions just to keep the airline in the public eye, free publicity costs nothing!

He does not want any hold baggage as that increases turn round time, it also impacts to some extent on fuel used. Example - at Bergerac airport the turnround time, ie. the time spent actually at the terminal is aimed to be a maximum of 25 minutes, should that target be achieved then RyanAir pay no airport charges - fact. This, obviously, helps keep seat prices low. Before anyone screams foul I should point out that Jane flew from Bergerac to Stansted last week for €35 all in. Now you cannot call that extortionate. Not only was the flight able to depart some five minutes early but arrived UK some twenty minutes early.

RyanAir operates a simple, basic no frills service. Flight time for us to UK is usually around eighty minutes, no longer than many a bus ride in the London area nor a commuter train ride to work, the latter frequently with a good number of passengers standing all the way crammed like sardines. There are no refreshment facilities on either of these, RyanAir does provide refreshments, at a price, for those who are unable to survive less than a couple of hours without any form of sustenance.

For those who want a superior service complete with hot and cold running cabin staff there are other carriers happy to oblige at a cost. Example - Flybe form Bergerac to Southampton minimum fare of £120 one way, almost four times the price of RyanAir for a journey two thirds the distance!

I like Michael O'Leary and his airline because it enables me and many others to travel inexpensively and more often should I so choose. I accept what it is, a basic, inexpensive service without unnecessary frills  which is a darn sight less uncomfortable than many commuter public transport services in the UK!

The problem ...

The problem to me in the current woeful state of once Great Britain lies firmly at the feet of HM Government albeit having been the legatees of some problems from the previous administration.

The latest wizard wheeze from Divvy Macaroon is to have the taxpayer back £400 million of mortgages which he believes will help the economy and the country.  Hang on just a minute, there is a touch of déja vue about this - is this not what began the slide into economic disaster only three years or so ago with the collapse of the sub-prime mortgage market in the land of the free and home of the brave?  Surely DC cannot be that naive nor short of memory to try that one again, but then he seems to think that the UK taxpayer is a bottomless pit.  History has a habit of self-repetition but never on such a short timescale as this.

Of course there is an upside to this latest idea from the asylum, his rich friends and cronies will benefit from any profits made whilst Joe Public will be mugged again should should it fail.  What a wonderfully democratic system.

Today in the media it was widely reported that Great Britain was too reliant upon financial services, it has only taken the Tories thirty years to wake up to the fact that man cannot live by financial services alone.  It seems almost heresy that they should now denounce the City Big Bang proudly trumpeted by the great Margaret Thatcher as the greatest advance ever in the UK economy, primed by Alan Walters who was unelected by the the electorate, allowing the markets to prevail.  Bah, who needs industry and manufacturing?

Unfortunately she did not realise that making products to sell creates wealth for everyone.  Instead the idea that lending money by borrowing money from others was the great way forward.  But what did that generate, nothing but more money for those that already had a surfeit of the stuff.  Instead of having almost full employment by providing jobs for many people it just need a few button pushers to trade electronically throughout the world in an instant.

Now the UK and the world in general is reaping the harvest of this article of faith 'To those that hath it shall be given' and bugger the rest.

Jon Snow of C4 News published a very profound and hard hitting article today.  This article should be commended to all politicians, business leaders, the City money makers and those making a fast buck off the backs of the citizenry of a once great country.  No apology is made for reproducing it in full, rather it is hoped that may fall on even one of those irresponsibles who are responsible for the current, deepening crisis.

________________________________________________

‘Who Understands The bubble’?

Don't Tax Them, Ban Them!

Monday 21 November 2011 8:38 am by Jon Snow Presenter C4 News

 

When I was a child, a gloomy portrait hung above the mantle in the dining room. My father, whenever pressed, would tell us of the sitter – Tom Snow, a banker in the City of London – our many times great, and not so great, grandfather.

Tom made a killing out of the eighteenth century South Sea Bubble. Some time in the 1960′s my father sold the last of Tom’s ill-gotten bequests, a Georgian silver salver, to fund private schooling for your blogger.
One of Tom’s unlucky investors, lured into losing his money in the South Sea Bubble, was Jonathan Swift who damned my forebear in his “The Bank Thrown Down”. Snow himself lost nothing in this City scandal in which investors poured money into supposed assets far away in the Southern seas.

Today the “Bubble” is back. Old Tom Snow survived with his wealth through activities in the City that no one fully understood. So it is today. Derivatives, algorithmic mechanisms, credit default swaps, the instruments abound.

I meet endless city operatives who tell me of the invention of still more incomprehensive mechanisms for gambling, betting, skimming, and simply making money out of moving money in nanoseconds. Much, if not most of this activity, has been facilitated by the evolving power of computing. Much of it has been classed by the Chairman of the Financial Services Authority, Lord Adair Turner, as ‘socially useless’.
We are now at a point in our global history where sovereign national wealth, corporate capital, and even the smallest domestic investment, are in play in a market the ramifications of which almost no one fully understands. Perhaps it is worse than that. Perhaps we are in a market in which absolutely no one fully understands every mechanism in play. That would include financial regulatory authorities, the police, and us. Hence the return of the Bubble, a moment in which massive fast money seems to be winnable within the law.
But should it be? Should the world’s financial systems include massive bets on failure? At least the Bubble was built on the myth that the betting was on distant success.

One of the reasons no banker has been jailed for either the 2008 crash, or the present mire, is that what they did, and what they are still doing, is perfectly legal.

Yet it has resulted in this threatening, looming, global meltdown. We have no idea of the scale of what is out there or how it will play out.

But will not history ask why we allowed interplays of dealing, betting, trading, gambling, and the rest which enriched so few at the cost of threatening the well-being of so many?

Why is there no G20 meeting, no UN debate, no international, or national debate centred on achieving a global ban of these ‘socially useless’ activities?

At least Jonathan Swift was able to understand the criminality that produced the Bubble. How many of us today can claim the same of our own very present, infinitely larger, and disastrously toxic bubble?

Just How Pedantic Are You?

PEDANTIC HIERARCHY

The following comprises a classification system against which aspiring
pedants may assess themselves.

1. Pre-Pedant Doesn't like "its" being confused with "it's". That is the
only prejudice he has so far mastered.

2. Basic Pedant Is aware of, and maddened by, confusion between flaunt
and flout, rebut and refute, disinterested and uninterested. Knows that
criteria and media are often used wrongly, but is not sure why. Pet
hate: confusion between alternate and alternative.

3. Flyweight Pedant Knows that media and criteria are plural only, but
tends to use data as singular. Insists that one graffiti is a graffito.
Is constantly worried by the pronunciation of pronunciation. Pet hate:
confusion between fewer and less.

4. Lower-Middle Pedant Is usually maddened by misuse of the apostrophe.
There is nothing he hates more than cafes called "Joes Eat's" though as
the owner of "Joes Eat's" would never answer a letter, he prefers to
write to newspapers protesting that they printed "Terry Venables' team"
instead of the correct "Terry Venables's team". Insists that data should
be plural only but has not yet tumbled to incunabula. Pet hate: the use
of hopefully, even when correct (or, if Scottish, the misuse of the word
"Scotch").

5. Demi-Semi-Pedant Insists that one strand of spaghetti is a spaghetto
and that more than one solo are soli. Aggravated when "aggravate" is
used to mean "irritate". Pet hate: incunabula used as a singular, though
he does not worry about agenda when so used.

6. Light-Heavy Pedant It is at this level that irritation over misuse of
titles and forms of address starts creeping in. Is also maddened by
menus that write magret de canard as maigret de canard. If Scots, always
refers to our Queen as Elizabeth I, and, if Irish, hates whisky being
spelt without an "e". Thinks that one bit of confetti is a confetto. Pet
hate: seeing "hoi polloi" referred to tautologically as "the hoi polloi".

7. Upper-Middle Pedant This is a man with strong worries about Latin and
Greek derivations, though he will write at length about how many noughts
there are in a billion. Several cellos are probably celli, and Capri is
always stressed on the first syllable. Pet hate: people who think "hoi
polloi " means "the few, the elite".

8. Heavyweight Pedant Fury is aroused at this level by new words which
combine Greek and Latin elements indiscriminately, like mega-terror or
minerology. Happiness is caused if Himalayas is stressed on the second
syllable and if decimate is used to mean "reduce by a tenth". This
pedant likes to go into a bar and order a small, dry Martino, and hates
to disturb the statum quo. Pet hate: people saying "a hotel", and misuse
of "ilk"

9. Super Pedant At this rarified level, the pedant would probably be
happier speaking Latin - he certainly gets upset by the wrong
pronunciation of it. Says "averse from", not "averse to", because averse
means "turned away". Pronounces Bahrain in the Arab style, with a Scots
'ch' somewhere in the middle. Suspects that Robert McCrum is the
singular of Robert McCra. Pet hate: everything.

10. Grandmaster Pedant Very few reach this stage; most candidates have a
heart attack at Level 9. The grandmaster pedant is tolerant of almost
every faux pas, though he is faintly irked by ill-informed speculation
over the origins of Basque. He would basically rather be speaking
Sanskrit than anything, and can pronounce Abu Dhabi correctly. He never
writes to newspapers with corrections, only to the editors of famous
dictionaries. Pet hate: pedantry.

In memoriam

 

Timeline:  Saturday 29 October, 2009 - Mallory Park, Leicestershire

_____________________________________

This afternoon Dave Wells tragically died during a race at the Festival of Sidecars at Mallory Park.

Dave was a passenger of legend having ridden with some of the great drivers of his time at short circuits, Grands Prix and the Isle of Man TT.  He was passionate about racing and died doing what he loved doing.  Always popular in the paddock with a very cheerful disposition he was ever ready to freely offer advice and help to his fellow competitors but was fiercely competitive once on track where only his best was good enough.

Sincerest thoughts and sympathies go to his family and friends at this very sad time.  The paddock will be an emptier place without you.

It is ironic that that he died during the Festival of Sidecars which annually brings together the sidecar family from home and abroad for a wonderfully joyous celebration of sidecar racing at its very best.  Further irony is added in that a slow parade lap has been arranged on the Sunday to remember all who have died taking part in their chosen sport, it will be a particularly moving and poignant tribute from,all the teams in the paddock. 

Rest in peace Dave, you will never been forgotten.

Total failure

No apologies whatsoever for posting this article by Ed Hwaker in the Daily Telegraph, 27 October, 2011.

It is not my intention that this piece should be read as bashing one particular political party or another, more to illustrate the utter futility and incompetence of 'the system' as well as those who administer it along with the inability of to arrange any sustainable long term planning rather than the inevitable short-termism of the current system. 

I shall labour the point no further ...

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Ed Miliband is sometimes often accused of not “cutting through”, of being so anonymous as to be ignored by the electorate he is attempting to win over. But when he used the phrase “squeezed middle” to describe the large bulk of working families who are insufficiently poor to be dependent on benefits, but not so rich as to be insulated from government cuts and economic malaise, he certainly struck a chord.

As the Labour leader recognised, millions of households in Britain are struggling to make ends meet. They are victims not just of a low-growth economy, but of a barrage of burdens and penalties: New Labour’s stealth taxes, Gordon Brown’s raid on pensions, the abolition of mortgage interest relief, the Coalition’s cuts to child benefit. All were aimed squarely at those who contribute most to our society – so it’s no surprise that the Prime Minister’s claim last year that “we’re all in this together” was greeted with such hollow laughter.

Worse, there is every reason to fear that the squeeze is set to tighten. For our problems are not just due to Gordon Brown being such a ghastly chancellor: government after government has failed to face up to the country’s long-term needs.

In the coming decades, the Exchequer will be forced to meet vast unfunded liabilities, identified more than a decade ago, for which almost nothing has been done to prepare us. Never mind the debate over the deficit: to pay state pensions throughout the extraordinarily long lives of the 18 million baby boomers who will retire within the next 20 years we will have to find an extra £1.4 trillion – and a further £800 billion for public sector pensions. And if you think the NHS is too large and unwieldy now, consider the effect of that same demographic change. By 2020, the Treasury estimates that health care will demand 10 per cent of GDP – costs will have doubled from 1990. If our politicians aim to address these problems by targeting the squeezed middle once again, the effect will be devastating.

At the moment, voters tell the pollsters that they are prepared to put up with a little pain, if it means that life will be better in future. But the squeeze is being passed on down the generations. Last year, the housing charity Shelter estimated that 2.8 million people are delaying having children because they can’t afford to buy a home: these are young couples who are in work and ready to start families, but have been caught out by our chronic housing shortage.

neration after that? Thanks in large part to the recent tuition fee hike, the children of the squeezed middle are being squeezed before they have even begun to pay tax. Families with teenagers are scrabbling around to afford the £9,000 a year fees: if they can’t, their children will have to take out loans, leaving them with decades of personal as well as national debts to settle.

Even those who avoided the introduction of higher fees are far from home and dry. Unprecedented numbers are unemployed – the latest figures show that nearly 40 per cent of all those without jobs in Britain are under 25. Locked out of the workplace, many graduates have begun long months of unpaid internships, hoping that employers who see no need to pay for their labour will eventually give them a permanent post, or at least the minimum wage.

It is not hard to see why Andrew Cooper, David Cameron’s chief political strategist, informed his boss upon his arrival in Downing Street earlier this year that voters’ greatest concern was that their children wouldn’t have the same opportunities they’d had.

Sadly, the Government’s response to this dilemma has been mixed at best. By raising the retirement age and negotiating a new deal with public sector workers, the Coalition has tentatively begun to fill the gap between what workers expect to receive and what the country will be able to afford – but it still remains vast.
If we are to ensure that our children can enjoy the same levels of prosperity as their parents, we need to make some hard decisions. First, the Government must consider restricting some of the perks given to the rich retired. There is no earthly reason why we should pay for Lord Sugar to receive the winter fuel allowance. If the Coalition can means test benefits for children, why not for OAPs?
As for preparing the workers of the future, far too little has been done. The tuition fee hike may help the Exchequer today, but if Britain’s young people stay away from university – and, as employers regularly complain, are already ill‑equipped for the workplace – we will not be able to compete in the global economy.

Next, even though there is a pressing need for more housing for young families, the National Planning Policy Framework is plainly not fit for purpose: we need a sensitive and strategic building programme, not a brickies’ free-for-all. But why not extend the default rental agreement from six months (much less than the average mobile phone contract), giving young couples the security they need to start a family?
It is no surprise that the political debate in Britain avoids these problems – because they yield uncomfortable solutions. But unless we start thinking seriously about them, the squeeze today will be nothing compared to the squeeze tomorrow.

Quick Update

Loires have packed their little bags and headed for roofspaces anew!

The all pervading pong after the flit shinging has now abated as it has all  been harrowed into the field!

So, finally bliss, peace and tranquility returns to our little bit of la belle France ...

Local matters ....

We have just become hosts to where our newly arrived guests anticipate spending their winter.  With somewhat a lack of consideration they arrived in the small hours of this morning while we were asleep in our top bedroom.  Jane was the first to greet them with "Oh no!  Damned loires again!".  Loires, aka glis glis or edible dormice, are nocturnal, cute looking creatures with big dark eyes and like to hibernate particularly in roof spaces.  Before eventually dozing off or several months in the depths of winter they naturally like to get a suitable store of food in for the period,

Unfortunately they make their presence known by much scratching and scrabbling about in the roof space during the night as well as leaving smelly reminders there of their presence.  We have discussed with local people as to the best means of ridding ourselves of these unwanted guests, most common suggestion is to put poisoned bait down but that leaves the unsavoury  problem of slowly decomposing rodents in the roof.  Several others say that they don't bother about them and just let the beasts get on with their little lives.   We had this problem last winter and resolved it by leaving a radio playing very loudly during the day - loires do not like noise nor to be disturbed particularly in the day so they packed their little bags and left after about four days of dreadful French pop music.  Guess what strategy we are using this time?  That's right, more very loud, awful French pop music.

Several days ago we were having coffee at a local café with friends and one mentioned that her English neighbours were complaining of having their sleep disturbed every night.  The disturbance is not due to traffic, late night revellers etc as they live in a very rural spot amongst open farmland.  Eventually the source of their interrupted sleep was traced to a field some twenty metres away adjacent to their garden.  The actual noise is a constant clicking from an electric cattle fence considerately placed by the farmer to prevent his cattle straying into their garden.

The first recourse of said English couple was not to speak with the farmer but to the local mayor.  His response was to state the obvious that they had chosen to live in a rural environment, that the problem was not his and legally there was nothing that he could do.  A suggestion was however proffered that perhaps they might consider purchasing some ear plugs!

Thinking of adjacent fields we are enjoying another rural delight today, our local farmer, Alain, has just begun the annual agricultural ritual of muck spreading in the field next to our home - luvverly ...  Or as Farmer Brian would have politely described the process as 'flit shinging', well something like that anyway ...

THAT MAN THERE!

Should you be the head of a very large company with a multi-billion pounds annual budget then surely your first requirement for a director of company finance would be someone with previous experience, appropriate qualifications and training would it not?

What do the following people have in common - Gordon Brown, Alistair Darling and George Osborne?  Yes, they all have held or hold the great office of state of Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Brown, son of a humble Scottish protestant minister, his qualifications amounted to a history degree.

Darling, grandson of a Scottish Tory lord, graduated with an LL B and practised law.

Osborne, son of a landed hereditary lord with a large Irish estate, graduated with a 2:1 in history.  Never had a proper job as he became a researcher for the Tory party at the ripe old age of twenty three prior to becoming an MP - no experience of the real world.

Have you, dear reader, spotted what they have in common?  Yes all have been Chancellors of the Exchequer and none have even remotely distinguished themselves in that post.  Ah yes, something else, none of them have had any financial experience nor qualifications for that exalted and very responsible post.  One would like to think that having the responsibility for the nation's finances then some degree of financial nouse would have been an essential qualification especially when their remit is to ensure the financial stability of UK plc which obviously has the largest budget in the country.

Qualifications?  Experience?  Financial acumen?  You must be joking, none, zilch, zero, bugger all.  Even I am better qualified than these trustees of the nation's finances as at least I have a First in Business Administration which includes a sound grounding in of finance & accounting, management accounting and economics both micro and macro.

All of this reminds me of an old apocryphal army tale which goes something mike this:  Sergeant enters barrack room and demands "Right you lot, who knows anything about music?"  A little thin, reedy educated voice piped up and said "Me, Sergeant."  The NCO looked this poor little squaddy up and down, then said "Right that man, get yourself to the Sergeant's mess and move the bloody piano!" 

A similar set of criteria would seem to apply in selecting a Chancellor - no wonder the country is in the state that it is.

The law is 'avin a laugh – but the joke is on Britain

I make no apology for posting this article by Allison Pearson from the Daily Telegraph, 24 August 2011 as it accords with my last post on here and is written far more eloquently than I could ever pen!

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They drive me mad, too.” That’s what the Prime Minister told me in a more innocent time, before the riots. Back in April, I was sitting in Number 10, reading him a list of the human rights abuses that drive the public to despair. I don’t mean abuses under the Human Rights Act 1998. I mean abuses of the rights of humans whose children have been mown down by foreign drivers with no licence, humans whose husbands have been stabbed to death. Humans still astounded by grief who have to attend a British court and hear a judge tell them that the conscienceless wretch who extinguished their happiness cannot be deported post haste or hurled, preferably, over the white cliffs of Dover. No, the wretch must be allowed to remain in our country because they have the right to “a family life”.

I keep a shoebox stuffed with newspaper cuttings about such cases. They bring to mind the Ricky Gervais catchphrase, “Are you ’avin a laugh?” On Saturday, I added another surreal snippet to the pile. The Court of Appeal in its wisdom had just torn up powers that allowed judges to ban convicted paedophiles from unfettered access to their children. Apparently, the paedophile’s right to a family life must be taken into account, even if the kids in question fear Dad’s tread at the bedroom door. Are their honours ’avin a laugh?

Our judges’ ever-widening definition of what constitutes “family life” almost dislocated my jaw recently when a Bolivian immigrant escaped deportation because he owned a pet cat with his girlfriend. We cannot know the name of the moggy, let alone the Bolivian, but Judge Judith Gleeson joked that the cat “need no longer fear having to adapt to Bolivian mice”. Was she ’avin a laugh?

Here’s another. In a landmark ruling, Strasbourg judges decided that two Somali men, who had abused our hospitality by robbery, drug dealing and threats to kill, could not be deported because there was a possibility they might face “ill treatment” at home. Remember the case of Mustafa Jama who was was convicted for his part, along with two other Somalians, in the murder of WPC Sharon Beshenivsky in November 2005? Jama, who had previous convictions for robbery and burglary, had been considered for deportation shortly before that tragic shooting, but officials decided it was “too dangerous” for him to return to Somalia. After the cold-blooded killing of Sharon – mother to Samuel, Lydia and Paul – in a Bradford travel agency, Jama evaded capture for four years by fleeing to… guess where? Yup, Somalia. The very place his lawyers had claimed it was unsafe for him to return to. Were they ’avin a laugh? Sharon’s widower, Paul, certainly wasn’t. He said his wife would never have been murdered if “do-gooders” hadn’t kept her killer in Britain.

Why are we powerless to send these frightening, violent individuals back to where they came from? Because, according to the European Court, it’s too frightening and violent. Anything I’m missing here, chaps? Are our learned friends in Strasbourg ’avin a laugh? If so, there is no longer a shred of doubt that the joke is on the British people. A nation that carried the torch of liberty with Magna Carta, parliamentary sovereignty, judicial independence, Press freedom, habeas corpus and trial by jury needs no lessons in justice from its pious neighbours, who loaded Jews, gipsies and homosexuals into cattle trucks. The waffly preamble to the European Convention on Human Rights speaks of “countries which have a common heritage of political traditions, ideas, freedom and the rule of law”. Well, we don’t have a common heritage or laws. As the distinguished QC Geoffrey Robertson has pointed out, torture was a prescribed part of the Continental legal process for centuries after it was abolished in England in 1641. It was Great Britain, not Europe, that taught the world how to right human wrongs.

The riots have made scrapping the Human Rights Act more urgent. More than 150 people born abroad have been arrested so far. Immigration minister Damian Green said: “We strongly believe that foreign national lawbreakers should be removed from the UK at the earliest opportunity.” Good luck with that, Damian. You do realise the poor darlings can’t possibly leave the country, don’t you? They’ve got pussy cats to look after and drug addicts to supply.
While judges increasingly warp Article 8 of the Convention in favour of villains, why do they never seem to consider the right to a family life of people like Frances Lawrence and the four children she had with headmaster Philip? In 2007, the Home Office failed to secure the deportation of Learco Chindamo, Mr Lawrence’s murderer. An Asylum and Immigration Tribunal insisted that to deport the Italian-Filipino would breach his human rights. Like Paul Beshenivsky, Frances Lawrence was aghast to discover that the needs of her spouse’s killer outweighed those of her bereft family.
Chindamo, who was cleared in court yesterday of a street robbery, is a cocky youth who, like so many, had been emboldened by the knowledge that wrongs, however grievous, will never prevent him having human rights on his side. He is one of thousands of foreign-born criminals who have humiliated the Home Office and who have shown with brutal clarity that the law of the land is not ours, for what Briton in their right mind would put the domestic comfort of a murderer before the safety of their fellow citizens?
This is what Cameron was getting at in his forceful speech following the riots. He noted how the “greed and thuggery” could not be separated from the “growing sense that individual rights come before anything else… I am determined we get a grip on the twisting and misrepresenting of human rights.”
Three cheers for those noble words, Prime Minister, but what the hell are you going to DO about it? In Opposition, Cameron pledged to scrap the Human Rights Act “so we can throw foreign terrorists and criminals out of our country”. When I asked him about it in April, he looked exasperated. “Obviously, this is something which is more difficult in Coalition. I won’t hide that from you. The Liberal Democrats have a different view on the Human Rights Act.” He assured me the Government was setting up a commission to look into a British Bill of Rights. What he omitted to tell me was that Nick Clegg would be in charge of it. I’m sorry, but allowing the Deputy Prime Minister to head a body to scrap the Human Rights Act is like appointing a vegan to the Texas Beef Council.
Tensions in the Coalition are said to be running high with senior Lib Dems warning the PM not to “water down” Britain’s commitment to human rights. Good. Let battle commence. Some things are worth fighting for. As a sop to his Coalition partners, Cameron permitted a referendum on the AV voting system, a notion commanding such widespread support that only Eddie Izzard and five blind jugglers in Camden voted for it. So why can’t we have a referendum on something the public feels passionate about? Like a British Bill of Rights.
The PM could do himself and the country a power of good by jettisoning a law that makes a mockery of the very justice it is intended to dispense. To stiffen his resolve, here are some sage words from a predecessor in Number 10. “We are with Europe but not of it; we are linked but not compromised. We are associated but not absorbed. If Britain must choose between Europe and the open sea, she must always choose the open sea.”
Winston Churchill’s words are as relevant as they were on May 11, 1953. The time for Strasbourg ’avin a laugh at our expense must end. The case for a British Bill of Rights is overwhelming. Human rights can be wrongs.

Can I have my country back please?

It has been widely reported in the media this morning that Tony Blair ex PM (failed) believes that the recent riots in England have no connection with 'social decline'.  Logically to follow his statement therefore is the suggestion that the unrest is not connected with moral decline and the breakdown of family influence.  What a load of utter tosh.  My immediate question is why has he chosen this specific moment to put his head above the parapet and make such a pronouncement because since his fall from power there seems to have been a remarkable lack of interest in matters concerning the UK many of which are arguably due to his tenure in Downing Street.  The next question, naturally, is what is in it for him?

There is little doubt in my mind that  the state of the country today is a direct result of government influence, policies and decisions (or possibly lack of) over the recent decades with the rights of minority groups and lobbies prevailing over those of the majority to the detriment of that gagged majority and the current social, economic and cultural situation that now abounds.  By the very actions of those elected to administer the country on behalf the electorate the police, judiciary, assorted "watchdogs", checks and balances have been emasculated to the point that when strong intervention of any suchkind rendering  action virtually impotent.

There are varying theories as to the root cause of the current state of once 'Great' Britain' - family decline, social decline, greed, lack of respect for authority of the family and beyond, collapse of moral standards and ethical standards etc.  I am neither qualified nor about to conjecture the causes but as a former citizen of that once great country I despair as to its future should the same path of decline prevail.  It is self evident that there is an urgent need of change for the better to benefit the vast majority, quite from where that spark of common sense may be ignited lord only knows, certainly not from the self serving, dictatorial politicians who have not served the country well in the recent past.

Given given the recent performance of those exercising control and influence over the country at large there seems to be little chance of change for the better.  Included in that group are obviously politicians of all hues, major financial institutions, the unelected Whitehall mandarins, the political advisers, a large number of very mixed pressure groups including those from the constabulary, religious factions, social lobbyists, the human rightists etc etc.  Meanwhile the wealth gap between the haves and have nots, plus the never likely to haves continues to ever widen.  This success of greed over necessity needs to be challenged and remedied as without change for the common good the seeds of discontent and consequences have not only been sown but are now sadly beginning to bear fruit.

What is the solution?  I fear that the only real, long term answer is probably more than too horrible to contemplate but change is abundantly obvious in its urgent necessity.

Please may I have my country back?  Until that time I am shall watch its ever decreasing decline from a distance ...