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.

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‘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 ...

Where's My Isle of Man TT Gone?

OK, I seldom if ever blog about sidecar and motorcycle racing but it is by far my biggest passion in life - and has been for almost sixty years - but I feel so strongly as to what just has become of the world famous TT Races in the name of 'progress'?  It is time that the whole format changed to provide diversity of classes rather than production racing by fancy names, to encourage individuality and engineering skills otherwise it surely cannot exist in the present form for many years.

I know that I may be boring some of you but this TT classs lark is getting on my mammary glands - have to be polite due to the presence of the fair sex

TT week - classes - Sidecars, Superbike, Superstock and Supersport and that is it - oh, sorry forgot the Duracell thingies Sidecars are instantly recognisable because they have three wheels and a passenger - fact. Apart from the glorified kiddies sit and ride electric whatsits the others are all instantly recognisable because they have two wheels and one person - fact. This latter category is apparently sub-divided into three classes and they are totally smothered in stickers, some which seem to bear a remarkable resemblance to matchbox labels, beer bottle labels, cheese triangle labels etc -fact.

Now for the difficult part - with all three classes looking and sounding so very similar how the hell is it possible to tell them apart, especially when whizzing past at a fantastic rate of knots? In all honesty to me it is a case of see one race and you've seen them all Should I wish to watch a load of standard and modified road bikes roaring around then I can go to High Beech, Box Hill or the Ace caff. Why bother walking around the paddock when it is easier to see very similar looking bikes (minus a number of the sticky labels) in any high street dealers and you may even get a free cup of coffee thrown in.

This is, we are led to believe, progress. I do not think so

Now for what I am about to pen I know that I am likely to be abused, shouted out or derided as a geriatric, grey haired, short sighted dinosaur - please feel free to add any other appelations or pejoratives that may seem appropriate but if this the way forward then I am a banana.

In the good/bad old days of yore when men rode sixteeninchers the TT was an utterly fabulous fortnight with no less than seven, yes that's right seven, different classes that were distinctively different and obvious to anyone remotely interested in racing. The need to pad out a programme with repeated races was totally unnecessary and the grids were full! Furthermore there was a wide variety of individual engine and exhaust noises making many bikes instantly recognisable to even someone with a mild sight defect rather than a stream of virtually identical noises and machines revving their little nuts off. Not forgetting the sidecars of course with a number of different engines used - the deliciously crisp sounding BMWs, Manxes, G45s and G50s, the inevitable British twins from Triumph, BSA, Norton and even the odd Royal Enfield, all instantly identifiable.

Then there is the matter of the sidecar class open only to F2 machines which are closely defined by rules which some see as restrictive and stifling. Agreed that some structure is necessary, even in the halcyon days of sidecar racing there were rules as to frames, engines etc but nothing as draconian as the present set.

So what has led to the current state of affairs? Was it the loss of World Championship status for the TT? Could the influence of commercial sports promoters/TV companies have had an effect due to showing classes that they perceived as profitable? How about the withdrawal of major manufacturers? Then there was the abdication/flogging off of championships national and iworld by national and iinternational controlling bodies to the highest bidder to run as they wished? Could it be that manufacturers carry much weight with organisers and promoters today?

Does it really matter the causes for this dreadful decline? What is more important is that it has happened and has sadly been allowed to happen. Forgive me dear reader should I be boring you but I am utterly peed off with the current format of solo TT classes and it is time for change, a change for the better and more variety.

How Adaptable Are You?

Are you an adaptable sort of person, one that takes changes in their stride or perhaps a daily, settled routine is preferable.  Let me expand just a little ...

What sort of holidays do you like?  Travel abroad to perhaps somewhere that is new with a whole different culture?  Foreign all-inclusive holiday and sit around the pool and bar and never venture beyond the confines of the complex?  Holidays in the UK more to taste because the culture is what you are used to?  No matter what the choice there inevitably must be an element of change which requires a certain degree of personal adaptation.

Go to a foreign country and in all probability the food will be different, as will local customs and standards.  To enjoy yourself takes a degree of flexibility and perhaps a desire to experience new things otherwise why go in the first place, especially if there is a likelihood that they may not be to your likings.  In this age of easy access to information using the Internet it is a simple matter to access information as to a chosen destination and decide whether it is the place for you.

Let's move on a little - the decision has been made to emigrate and live permanently abroad.  Obviously such a major change needs very careful consideration and research to determine suitability and whether it is the right place for you.  Most, but not all potential emigrants seem too only well aware that this is an important process in making the final decision whether to move or not.  It should be only to clear that choosing to live in another country outside of the UK involves different social, cultural and economic ways and being adaptable means that any of these should not be too great a difficulty given the necessary will.  Shopping and products may be different to what you are used to, almost certainly local customs and even apparently simple things such as eating out will not be the same either.  For many this is part of the expat experience and enjoyment of living in and learning about your chosen country.  Unfortunately for others there is a desire to keep things as much as possible as they were back in the UK, so why leave in the first place?

A few days ago I was chatting with an acquaintance who has lived here with his wife for just over a year, knowing that he liked to watch rugby I asked if he was going to the local match that weekend.  The reply was" no" becuase he had been to a couple of games there and thought that they were "too punchy"!  Too punchy?  It's rugby for heavens sake, once described as a game for young hooligans played by young gentlemen and it is virtually a given that an exchange of  'pleasantries ' will inevitably happen during the course of the game.  To quite what sort of rugby this person is accustomed I have little idea but it certainly is not the style here in the heart of French rugbyland!

The next topic of conversation was a certain local restaurant which is a favourite place of ours to dine out, nothing pretentious, just good food at a sensible price, superbly cooked, run by a charming French couple.  Our views were somewhat opposite to my friend of this place asaccording to him the chips were horrible and he had thought had occurred of sending them back.  Almost all restaurants serve the standard pommes frites (skinny French fries) which after all is a national dish!  This particular restaurant serves chunky home made, fresh chips which when served are a dark; deep golden colour looking nothing like the ubiquitous fries, furthermore they are not as crisp either but the flavour is superb.  Why the difference?   The difference is that to make chips to the UK palate requires certain types of potato that are almost impossible to source here, instead locally grown potatoes are used.

Next came an opinion about a certain Indian restaurant which are few and far between in southwest France, this particular place is a favourite of mine serving excellent food at again reasonable prices.  My friend had visited this restaurant one lunchtime and did not like the menu on display in the window because it did not look right - said menu is extensive and would not disgrace a typically English place.  Of course it was different - this is France and the menu, unsurprisingly, is in French!  It was his loss because he mised out on an excellent lunch.

The climate does not seem to suit either, he finds it too cold in winter and too hot in summer, surely that would be one of the first factors to establish when considering another country in which to live!

Several other instances arose in this particular conversation which inevitably led me to wonder why on earth he was living abroad as obviously nothing is the same as in England, even simple things like shop opening hours.  Regrettably in my experience he is not all that uncommon amongst 'the Brits here, quite what they expected to find defies the imagination.

Obviously my friend is not very adaptable and change resistant and in the long term could find life occasionally somewhat hard going. As for me I just love being here despite the differences and changes that must be made in everyday life.  Would I go back?  You must be joking!

Spring ...

... is certainly here and summer not far away as a pair of our migratory birds have returned and only do so from overwintering in North Africa when the weather is set fair.

The hoopoes are a strange looking bird looking akin to a woodpecker in fancy dress complete with an unusual crest, Brian H always reckoned they looked as though they have a rubber glove on their heads, hence the name 'rubber glove bird' has stuck.   They make a very distinctive call of three 'whoops' close together sounding almost like a woodwind instrument, before we ever saw them when we first came here we could hear them and nicknamed them 'triple birds'! They occasionally arrive on the English south coast but are apparently not all that common there.

Think that you must agree that they are a slightly bizarre looking bird from the photo below, nevertheless we always look forward to seeing them each year.

Just another day ...

So here we are, another morning in France, bluish sky, warmish, quiet everywhere except a multitude of various birds singing away.  Just had breakfast and now on my second coffee of the day, what better way start to a day ...

Right, let’s check emails, bound to be some because I haven’t been online since early yesterday evening because last night’s tele was good, Channel 4 News, University Challenge, Raymond Blanc, second part of Waking the Dead.  Ah, laptop is shut, cats must have been having a riot in the sitting room last night.  Open laptop, press button to show emails, about twenty or so, last one in at 0258 hrs.  That seems a bit strange not to have had any since then, check for net connection.  No connection so that is probably the reason for lack of emails then.

Needs must investigate the lack of internet, check that modem lights are all on, so far so good.  Check physical connections, all fine.  The obvious answer is that a download update happened some time in the wee small hours and the machine has not rebooted properly, answer is to reboot then.  See how sharp I am at this time of day ...

Reboot finished, no connection.  Try to force a connection with no joy so use Microsoft’s wonderful solution finder.  Brilliant, tells me that there is not a problem, I know darn well that there is as I have no internet access.  Occasionally in the past after a forced reboot the thing does not connect so usually having tried all of the usual and obvious remedies perhaps a system restore will do the trick as it usually has previously.

So we go through the system restore procedure, a process which can take a quarter of an hour or so.  Second cup of coffee is gone so an opportune moment for another to help soothe slightly frayed nerves and disposition.

Hooray, restore is complete!  Check connection – none.  Hmmm, scratch head and other parts.  Try to force a connection with no joy.  Try Microsoft’s diagnostic thingy, more in hope than anticipation – blasted thing is adamant that there is not a problem – liar.

OK, let’s try another system restore point in the hope that the chosen one may have been a tad dodgy for some reason best known to itself.  Time passes ...

Another twenty minutes or so has elapsed and another restore is complete according to the onscreen message.  Check all vital signs, still no darned connection.  Repeat all of the diagnostics etc which still show no problem.

Desperation stakes now, try another restore wasting yet another chunk of time ...

Aaarrghh!  Nothing, zilch, rien, sod all except the same reassuring message that all is well.  The way that thing lies so blatantly it could pass for a government minister.

Suddenly my neighbour Simon appears at the door enquiring if I have internet this morning, he uses the same provider Wimax.  Apparently he too has spent the last one and a half hours or so trying establish a connection.  The conclusion is that there must be a network fault.

Nowt else to do but wait patiently for the network boffins to sort it out.  There is a minor snag now as it has just turned mid-day.  So why is that a snag you may ask.  Well, simples.  This is France and it is lunch time, nationally.  Not just grab a quick sarnie from the local deli or eat at your desk, oh no.  Lunch is at least a two hour affair, more often three taken away from your desk in a nice little restaurant offering a three or four course €11 menu.  The average French worker just has such a hard life ...

So what is there to do?  Obvious is it not?  Have lunch and then start waiting patiently again after three o’clock.  

Wait patiently did I say?  Oh yes, connection eventually made just after 1800 this evening.  No explanation of course but then that’s my fault for living in France ...

Yobs, Louts and Scrotes

Reported on BBC News this morning that last night in Salford, Greater Manchester, firemen were attacked by anti-social elements whilst tackling a blaze.  This is not the first time by any means that members of the emergency services have been subjected to attacks whilst carrying out their lawful duty and seems to be increasing frequency.  What is it with these underclass elements that makes them behave in such a way?  The possible blame may be laid at many doors, broken families, poor housing, unemployment, lack of education, government policies over the years or even, whisper it quietly, lack of parental responsibility and influence.

Surely, along with other mindless acts such as minor criminal damage, graffiti, general hooliganism, this all reflects on society as a whole, from top to very bottom.  It was never like this in my childhood, any wanton public act would have been dealt with by the local bobby with either a clip round the ear or a whack from a rolled up cape.  Should such behaviour have been repeated on a number of occasion the culprit(s) could well have found themselves in a juvenile court to be dealt with.  Apart from any judicial sentence the shame brought onto the family would have been generally sufficient to prevent re-occurrence.  As a last resort there were approved schools where offenders were sent if under sixteen and Borstal if over that age.

Today one often hears or reads of multiple offences committed by the same individual over a period of time going relatively unpunished because authority in all its diverse forms seems unable and/or unwilling to deal with these louts.  Perhaps National Service may provide a solution to the problem of lack of self-discipline and respect for self, others and property.

What is certain that this behaviour needs to be eradicated effectively and firmly as soon as possible before social order breaks down completely.  Is any government brave enough to tackle the problem?  I very much doubt it as the wheel has turned too far in favour of namby pamby do-gooders, human rights and the weakening of some legislation which seems to almost protect some wrongdoers.

Another thought in the same direction - what has become of Divvy Macaroon's great personal idea and crusade of the Big Society in recent weeks?  After a much trumpeted relaunch then it seems to have disappeared, become lost, drowned in a sea of voter apathy and cynicism.  Perhaps the idea should be redirected to include anti-social elements at its very core which may then decrease the nation's disregard of it.

Perhaps politicians should look outside of their own sheltered and cloistered realm to other European countries where such behaviour is far less evident and far less tolerated to discover why this may be and apply lessons learned.

Wonders of the Universe

Superb programme with Professor Brian Cox currently showing on BBC2.  Love the programme particularly because Brian Cox explains the normally inexplicable in a very easy to understand way, the various wpictures of the universe are absolutely stunning and finally he does get around to some very distant and odd locations.  He's everyman's Steven Hawking in a very user friendly package!

His choice of locations prompted this article below in Newsthump.com  - what do you think?

I must be on the moon to explain about the moon, Brian Cox tells license fee payers

Professor Brian Cox has defended the increasingly extravagant locations for his Wonders of the Universe series by insisting that if people really want to understand the moon, the BBC needs to put him on the moon.
His new series is explaining the origins of the universe whilst also showing us a number of interesting camera angles of Professor Brian Cox in some of the most expensive-to-reach places on the planet.
Viewer Simon Williams said, “I absolutely love the show, and found his explanation of how nuclear fusion inside dying stars creates all of the heavier elements in the universe absolutely riveting, but did he really need to be demolishing buildings in Brazil to explain it?”
“I’m sure I could make pretty much the same point in the pub with a couple of empties and some random bar snacks.”

Wonders of the Universe extravagant locations

Professor Cox has defended the locations, insisting that seeing him visit amazing places at our expense is an important educational tool.
Cox told reporters, “People will always remember me telling them about the origins of the big bang, because I was at the El Tatio geysers in Chile when I did it.  They’re really expensive to visit you know.”
“Or that I explained how we’re all made of Carbon in the Nepalese capital of Kathmandu. You can’t do that tip on the cheap, let me tell you.”
“And I’m just saying that the Moon is really important, and I need to talk about it, but there’s no point in me talking about it if I’m not actually standing on it.”
“Let’s be honest.  If the BBC can fund Chris Moyles then it can bloody well send me to the moon.”

Things are getting desperate here in deepest southwest rural France.  Having survived the winter with no major disasters the situation is becoming of more than a little concern.  Having laid up what seemed adequate victuals to see us through the cold season  it was realised today that the provisions store is down to the last two Yorkshire Tea Bags and just one single 250g jar of Bovril remaining.  Our wood store for fuel is almost gone but the worst of winter is now hopefully done.  Morale is getting low due to severe withdrawal symptoms due to a lack of Ginster's Cornish Pasties, proper English back bacon and good, strong mature Cheddar cheese.

We have survived yet another winter despite the vicissitudes of life here and eagerly anticipate the first relief column of the spring bringing much needed comfort and essentials from over the water.  Oh what a celebration there will be then!

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As most are aware, or have been made aware, tomorrow night sees BBC television hosting yet again Red Nose Day.  Without having looked at alternative viewing on other channels it will probably be a sad mishmash of repeats and so-called reality shows as the opposition invariably seem to abdicate any responsibility for any form of even semi-intelligent programme scheduling knowing that their viewing figures will be at best poor due to the BBC fest.  There is no objection to raising money for charitable causes, levels of domestic Scroogeness have yet to descend to that pitiful depth but why, oh why, is the same tired formula trotted out every year with largely the same old faces arseing about trying overly hard to be what they consider as funny and entertaining.  Is it not time that just a little imagination and invention was applied to the televised event rather than just continuing along the same well worn path?  It could even be that additional viewers may watch and raise ever more money for good causes! 

Instead of suffering Lenny Henry and his cronies lining up yet again to bludgeon us all into submission in the most unsubtle manner we shall be heading off for the safety, security and sanctity of an excellent Chinese restaurant instead, thus retaining our sanity until the annual winter Telethon dictates that we seek refuge again for an evening!  By the way, should you think that this behaviour is extreme then our neighbours are leaving home for the snowy wastes of the Pyrenees for a skiing weekend!

It's that time of year again

Spring, that is.  Or as Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote all those years ago 'In the Spring a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love.'  Spring with its annual wonders of new little lambs, trees, fields hedgerows, gardens awakening from their winter slumber, already snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils are brightening the place up.

Perhaps in the case of not quite so young men their thoughts turn to a certain mood of foreboding and trepidation as mine have this very morning because without warning the annual round of domestic spring cleaning has begun.  Every room in the house will, in turn, be vacuumed, cleaned, de-cobwebbed, purged of any goods or chattels deemed redundant, obsolete or suffering the minutest trace of damage.  Interference with this ritual is not brooked as it is  viewed in the strongest terms as a 'pink job' with any external influence being unwelcome as it it may detract from the set course of 'clearing out'.

It is the latter objective set by the lady of the house that annually fills me with angst and trepidation.  A year has passed since last the ritual was observed allowing me to arrange personal and important as well as essential  things to my sense of order and convenience resulting in a calm and secure knowledge that I know where things are and can easily be found when needed.  This sense of logic and orderliness is now in the throes of its yearly upheaval, some treasured things may never be seen again should I not be exercise great vigilance in what is potentially being redistributed to the local Red Cross, the rubbish bins or worse the tip.

Once this latest addition to my Blogroll is completed I shall quickly secrete things away in little hiding places where they may gradually be retrieved when needed, all manner of things computer related, books, magazines, special small tools, sundry personal items etc which are essential to a comfortable and well ordered life of a maturer male.

Hopefully this outburst of seasonal domestic activity will be be finished before the Six Nations kicks off again on Saturday afternoon.  Soon some sense of order and calm should be restored allowing life to continue in a form that we know it!  In the meantime it is a case of batten down the hatches, don't panic Mr Mainwaring and steady as she goes bearing a stout heart against adversity ...

Puzzled ...

Just when you think that finally you have a grasp of a particular concept there is often something that happens to make you a little uncertain about that knowledge.  I'll explain a little further on ...

Let's have a look at a hypothetical situation as a way of looking at things.  Mr & Mrs Smith and their two point four little Smithettes live happily in a typical suburban house with a mortgage, he has a good job and she helps out in a charity shop.  Suddenly without warning Mr Smith loses his good job and is sufficiently unfortunate not to receive any redundancy pay or other recompense.  Naturally the families lifestyle will have to downshift considerably very quickly to minimise domestic expenditure as their income is now Job Seekers Allowance etc.

In order to ease the severity of their domestic cutbacks Mr & Mrs Smith seek a loan from their bank with a promise that all will be well with the domestic exchequer within the next four to five years and Mr Smith will be back in afull time and well remunerated position once more.  After some due consideration the bank agrees the loan to the Smith family and things look a little less bleak for them.  This short term injection of funds allows them to continue giving money away to their favourite charities as they have always done as well as to spend on long awaited luxury improvements, a swimming pool, geothermic heating etc.

Shortly afterwards, with Mr Smith still seeking work, a close friend asks if he could borrow a largish sum of money as he suddenly has found himself in financial straits with creditors pressing for payment.  Being a friend of some years standing Mr Smith generously agrees to lend several tens of thousands of pounds to his friend to ease his plight.

The question is would you, dear reader, have done the same as you obviously are not in the best of finacial circumstances to put it mildly, bearing in mind that you are already paying interest on your loan from the bank and are now subsidising a friend, presumably with some return upon said loan.  Would that loan have been more advantageous  in your bank account than that of your friend?

Let's transfer the situation from domestic economics to national economics, those of UK plc.  The island of Turks & Caicos in the sunny Caribbean is well known as a tax haven where many of its residents pay no tax in preference to having UK residency and help funding the government.  The island has recently found itself to be in extreme economic difficulties and asked the British Government for assistance in ts straitened times.  This request was made bearing in mind that the UK government has been forced to borrow billions of pounds to repay incurred debts and shortfalls of various kinds.  In short a loan of £126 million was agreed to bale out a little island nation, which undoubtedly was very gratefully accepted.

Let's return a little closer home - if you were up to your ears in debt would you lend money to someone over a period of years?  Of course you would not because it does not make economic sense to do so.

Having latterly gained a good degree in an area which included some economics I thought that I had a reasonable grip on basic economics in the modern age.  Apparently, according to Mr Cameron et al, I do not.  Heaven forbid that the British citizenry follow the example of their leaders and decision makers because the road to ruin would become ever closer.  It is the economics of the madhouse!

And that, faithful reader, is why I am puzzled ...

Crap on the Tele Pt 2

Still not a request or command, thank you!  The number of semi-intelligent programmes seems to be declining almost weekly in favour of populist, audience grabbing reality shows, daft game shows where the ability not to answer questions correctly but to be falsely over enthusiastic is paramount, endless antiques Trash in the Attic/Bargain Hunt facsimiles and those devoted to buying, selling &/or auctioning property type offerings.  What on earth has happened to sensible and intelligent programming on the nation's television channels?

Due to the ever burgeoning Murdoch empire terrestrial broadcasting has lost cricket, most rugby matches, much motorsport and many other sporting fixtures.  It is understood from friends that there is some intelligent and informative programming produced and available through Sky TV such as the History and Discovery channels etc.  Due to the dearth of what we consider reasonable programmes on terrestrial channels we have reached a decision that we have always said would never be taken by us  - finally we have subscribed to to Sky Sports and Knowledge channels.  Sky certainly does offer things to interest and entertain us especially during the winter months when our local community hibernates.

In one way I can grudgingly offer a mite of thanks to Murdoch for these programmes but in another I say 'Damn Murdoch' for his overarching greed and desire to dominate world media!

Economic woes and despair

As a war baby I grew up in an era of rationing and shortages but it was largely a happy time, as I recall, only marred by the premature death of my mother.  Finally in the early fifties the last vestiges of rationing ceased with sweets and bread freely available.  The country and economy was prospering and blooming as disposable income grew.  It grew to the point that in the early sixties the then Prime Minister Harold Macmillan, aka 'Supermac',  famously declared in an election campaign that "you've never had it so good".

From that perceived highlight of postwar Britain it was only a few short years until 1964 when the Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson who was under great economic and political pressure devalued the pound sterling by twenty five per cent overnight whilst proudly proclaiming that the pound in your pocket was still worth one pound.  From thereon it was on the slippery slope to 1967 and the 'Sunny' Jim Callaghan administration where interest rates soared to an astonishing twenty seven per cent and the country was under the rigid control of the International Monetary Fund, suffering all manner of harsh industrial action and social deprivations.

The country gradually clawed its way out of this economic and social hell with yet another change of government, this time led by Ted Heath only to disappoint as further economic woes followed shortly and he was replaced by Margaret Thatcher. She was but a humble grocer's daughter from middle England, trained as an industrial chemist and thus apparently eminently qualified to oversee UK plc and its people.

Thatcher wanted change and espoused the theory of monetarism as propounded by one Alan Walters, not an elected representative of the people but a 'personal adviser' to her.  His vision of the future was enthusiastically implemented by the Iron Lady with wholesale privatisations, the destruction of British industry, the emasculation of trades unions and ever greater political divides between right and left political factions.  All on the whole proudly proclaimed claimed as progress towards a more equitable society.

Suddenly there was another national economic crisis in the early eighties leading to yet another damaging and divisive recession from which the country slowly and gradually staggered to recovery.  All this economic, social and personal misery gradually gave way to an air of quiet optimism fromthe  political masters and population in general.  Only a short ten years later there was yet another damaging recession which to some extent caused Thatcher's downfall and the election of the much promising John Major.  Unfortunately like many of his predecessors he promised much and returned very little  positive outcome, in fact yet another triumph of aspiration over reality.

Eventually the country at large grew disenchanted with right wing politics and elected a new and seemingly bright shining star, Tony Blair.  Under his patronage came a new Chancellor of the Exchequer who reigned for some ten years or so promising the end of the boom and bust cycle for the British economy, a truly Utopian ideal.

You do not need to guess what comes next do you?  That's right, yet another recession under Brown's stewardship of the nation's finances and then as Prime Minister.  Not just any ordinary recession but one of hugely destructive proportions nationally but globally due to the coincidence of financial meltdown in America.  This latest economic holocaust was generally deemed to be as bad if not worse than the Great Depression some eighty odd years previously.

If governments are to be believed then currently things are gradually improving and within a few years all in the garden will be rosy again.  The question inevitably is for how long this time?  From all of the commonly available indicators it is looking increasingly likely that a further recessionary period is imminent despite political reassurances as to the contrary.

It should be pointed out that this is not intended in any way shape or form as a political rant decrying one wing of political dogma in favour of another, hopefully this is an objective and apolitical comment.

The principal question that all of the foregoing raises, apart from why should ordinary citizens continually and cyclically suffer the misery and despair that these economic upheavals bring,  It is more than blindingly obvious that the current and pre-existing regimes do not work, they are totally dysfunctional.  Other systems have been tried and largely failed, witness communism in all of its various manifestations, dictatorships of various degrees and brutality, in fact it would seem that most political systems are at best ineffective and somewhat lackiing in respect of the wishes and aspirations of ordinary people, the very people that in many cases have placed these machines in power!

My whole life has been subjected to these violent, disturbing politcal and economic forces never much more than a decade apart.  The impact just on my own financial, social life and work has been enormous in many cases totally negating any attempt at some form of planning for the future to bring security and stability to my little world.  Multiply this effect to include the entire population and the effects made and it must truly devastating on a national scale.  Obviously the macro economic situation suffers even worse. 

There must be, surely there has to be a better way then the seemingly never ending seesawing, roller coaster cycle which bedeviled the last century and would seem to be about to promulgate more of the same for this epoc.  Please do not ask what I foresee as a new way forward to a new world, there are far superior intellects in life who cannot devise a suitable solution.  What is certain that the old ways have failed and that change is sorely needed.

There is a quote that comes to mind that 'Britain is the mother of all parliaments', by very extension surely it is therefore the home of democracy.  If this be the case then perhaps Britain should look to the past, learn from history and return democracy to where it belongs in the very hands of its citizens because apart from every general election democracy is blatantly ignored by those in power who were put ther by the people.  Perhaps it is time time to remind those in power that they hold that very power to carry out the wishes of the people, not for those in power to force the people to fulfill their political aims and ideals.