When the true Russian revolution occurred, when the Communists, the Soviets, the KGB and all the repressive machinery of the Russian Empire fell apart, for a few months, a very few months, hope sprang to life in a hundred million minds, a hope which declared, ‘the State does not own us, we are individuals, we do not owe anything to the State!’ I do not need to explain the huge repressive machinery, the KGB, the NKVD, the very Russian Armed forces themselves, all part of the Soviet package which kept the Russian people in slavery-conditions for over fifty years; this all fell apart as the Satellite States, themselves governed as tightly as the Russians, began to flex their own muscles, the urge for freedom which was irreversible, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the collapse of East Germany and the inevitable collapse of a whole system which was built on a tissue of lies, backed with guns and tanks.
The freedom did not last long, the the KGB got itself a new name, the Russian Federation became repressive, now controlled after a short space of time by unreconstructed old-school Communists, but now with many more super-wealthy people at the very top, all supporting the nearly-dictator Putin who has so far invaded Georgia, Ossettia and now the Crimea, but at least the idea that the State is the ‘provider’, and therefore the ‘owner’ of people has disappeared.
Travel West a few thousand kilometres, and you end up in the Republic of Ireland, which for many, many decades was run under a similar system to Soviet Russia, but this Government was not of material things, but of the mind and indeed the very soul of all things Irish. I do not write of the Governments imposed by Great Britain, which ended when Partition was declared and the island was split in two; nor do I write of the Government of the Republic of Ireland, which has governed since Independence was declared. I write of the ‘Invisible Government’, which, to all intents and purposes, was the real ‘Government’, I write of the Bishops, of the Parish Priest, whose very word was akin to Law; and of the enormous bureaucracy and wealth of the Catholic Church, which told people what they should read, or write, or even to think and to behave, in and out of wedlock; all according to the traditions and rites of the Roman Catholic Church. Of a ‘Government’ which routinely connived at the issue of passports and travel documents so that small children, the illegitimate sons and daughters of usually illiterate and certainly ill-educated young women who had committed the grave ‘sin’ of having sex outside of marriage, and therefore had borne the very ‘Spawn of Satan’ could be routinely packaged, and sent off to America as they had literally been sold by the convents and homes where they had been born, in false and fake adoptions to ‘good Catholic Families’ in the United States.
As I recently wrote, I watched the documentary byMartin Sixsmith entitled ‘Ireland’s Lost Babies’, which attempted to discover the routes by which literally thousands of babies and tiny children were routinely trafficked, mainly but not exclusively, to widespread dioceses in the United States, and ‘adopted’ for a large ‘donation’ to that same Church, by Catholic families. I place the word ‘adopted’ in inverted commas, because, in most cases, the convents and homes were neither authorised to act as adoption agencies, nor did they question or otherwise check out the suitability of the prospective family units; the only two questions asked was whether the family were ‘practicing Catholic’, and the second question was whether the donation would be cash or cheque? Meanwhile, the mothers, now forever deprived of their children after ‘signing away’ their rights to hold that child ever again, were forced to work as near-slave labour in the Magdalene-like laundries which made another wonderful profit for that same, beneficent, Catholic Church.
I also watched the fantastic film ‘Philomena’, which was the source for the Sixsmith documentary. Yes, it was a fictionalised account of one of these ‘fallen women’ who, after fifty years of grief and trauma, found the courage to speak of the illegitimate son she had given life to, and to attempt, with Martin Sixsmith’s help, to trace her son in America. She, played by the remarkable Judi Dench, had attempted many times to gain knowledge from the convent where she had lived and slaved. The story went from Sixsmith, played by Steve Coogan, being a cynical unbeliever of Philomena’s story, to both actually tracing the adoptive parents and finding that that small boy had become a successful lawyer who advised Presidents. They also discovered that Philomena’s son was dead, as he had succumbed to the ravages of AIDs, because he was a homosexual. But the saddest piece of the film was to follow, because the journalist and the grieving mother discovered that her son’s lover had actually taken her son’s remains back to Ireland, and he was buried at the back of the convent where he was born.
There were some remarkably funny moments in that film, but the one piece which shall stay with me for a great many days was when Philomena confronts the aged nun who had not only sent her child away, but also had routinely denied the very fact that the convent knew anything about her son at all. Philomena asks why she had been denied her son, and the old nun shrieked that ‘her child was the result of the grave sin of ‘carnal incontinence’, and what was done; was done!” That, although just a few seconds of a feature fiction film, says it all as far as this commentator is concerned. The Church had ordained that the girls had sinned, they would be punished, and the children, property of the Church, were disposed of as was seen fit. The film may have been made to tell a story, and hopefully make a profit, but it also carried a message, that the Church hasn’t even begun to apologise to those it had routinely abused, betrayed and lied to, and that message grows louder by the day!
“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things: Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–And why the sea is boiling hot—and whether pigs have wings.
Many people said many things in the long run up to the Scots Referendum. ‘First Minister’ Alec Salmond pronounced his usual inflammatory sentences, toned down just a little from his Marxist youth, when he and his ‘comrades were committed to the establishment of a ‘Socialist and Republican Scotland; just a little bit less of the bully in his tone as he knew that he had to speak not only to the Scots, but also to the hated English who have so languidly and so long held the financial reins of the Scots Exchequer. But his was not the voice who, in the end, lost the campaign for that illusory ‘Independence’, he may be a revolutionary but he is no fool. That distinction is held by one man, the former deputy leader of the SNP, Jim Sillars.
Jim Sillars claimed there is talk of a “boycott” of John Lewis, banks to be split up, and new law to force Ryder Cup sponsor Standard Life to explain to unions its reasons for moving outside Scotland.
He said: “This referendum is about power, and when we get a Yes majority, we will use that power for a day of reckoning with BP and the banks.
“The heads of these companies are rich men, in cahoots with a rich English Tory Prime Minister, to keep Scotland’s poor, poorer through lies and distortions. The power they have now to subvert our democracy will come to an end with a Yes.”
He added: “BP, in an independent Scotland, will need to learn the meaning of nationalisation, in part or in whole, as it has in other countries who have not been as soft as we have forced to be. We will be the masters of the oil fields, not BP or any other of the majors.”
Mr Sillars said that under an independent Scotland, Standard Life would be required by new employment laws to give two years warning of any redundancies – and reveal to the trade unions its financial reasons for relocation to any country outside of Scotland.
Earlier this week, a number of banks, including Lloyds Banking Group and RBS, said they would look to move their headquarters south of the border in the event of a Yes vote. “What kind of people do these companies think we are? They will find out,” he added.
“In each and every election to an independent Parliament, parties and individuals can put forward a manifesto of their choosing and the people will decide. The role of Yes is to achieve a Yes vote, so that the people of Scotland will always get the governments we vote for – and never again Westminster-imposed Tory governments.”
That is the tone which scared the living daylights out of the Tory & Labour parties, as well as the multitude of steady Scots who were considering, or even swinging, towards the ‘Yes’ campaign. So, a big ‘Thank You Jimmy’, from the United Kingdom to the fool who just could not keep his big Communist trap shut!
She was legally and judicially executed on Wednesday evening at 6.24 p.m. Central time. No one knows what the substance used to kill her, was called, or its component parts, but it did the job, and she was pronounced dead twelve minutes after the lethal dose commenced.
The terrible injuries sustained by this little boy, most of which were still apparent on his tortured body, did not end his life; that trophy was accomplished by a combination of malnutrition and pneumonia. His body, which weighed about half that of a normal boy his age, had been subject to 250 separate injuries, including cigarette burns and the result of blows from a golf club.
Strangely enough, though I thoroughly approve of her execution, I totally disagree with the State of Texas in its method of judicial execution. To allow this evil woman to quietly expire over a twelve-minute period, in deep sedation and presumably with a minimum of pain; after the torture and trauma suffered by her small victim, her lover’s child and son; is just not right! I, and probably many, many others, would have thought a more appropriate punishment would have been to beat and to starve this creature, just as she did this small boy, until she suffered the same death as her small victim. But, hey, thats just a father, a grandfather and an Englishman thinking out loud.
I note that the Guardian, from which I take this report, is more concerned with the method and efficacy of the compounds used for these executions, than concern about the victims callously erased by these killers, on the grounds that Texas has continually refused to declare what the substances are, and whether they are ‘out of date’. Bit like not eating strawberries because they are ‘pas their sell-by date’, but just a bit more lethal, really.
Well done Texas, and the United States of America, for keeping up the good work, and cleansing Society of just a few of the living bacteria which really needed killing.
George Monbiot, writing in the Guardian, presumably believes he is correct, whilst writing on the mainstream media’s coverage of the Scots Referendum on Independence. But I believe he is totally and absurdly wrong.
In all of Mr. Monbiot’s elegant phrasing; along with his condescension towards a Scots electorate which assumes they are just not capable of discerning when political bullshit is spread in their general direction: there does not appear the one truth which has been carefully and completely removed from the debate. That ‘truth’ is the simple fact that the Scots are not being offered a chance at an amorphous ‘Independence’, they are being offered a choice between one bunch of politicians and a vast civil service which governs undemocratically now, and government by another bunch of politicians and a smaller civil service which will also govern undemocratically in the future.
The same bunch of thieving clowns, albeit with different accents, will occupy all the leading roles in public life; the same, but smaller civil service will cling to their ‘rule books’ and deny a troubled Scots family a life-giving operation or treatment as they do now, the same, faceless bunch of thieving clowns will continue to pillage the national wallet, all in the course of making everyone equal, but not telling those same people that, in Orwell’s immortal words, ‘some are more equal that others’.
I would happily vote for a Party which would contend for my vote if they promised, graven in stone, to implement, for example, a system whereby a true ‘Recall’ would be made available not only for Members of a Scottish or indeed a Westminster Parliament, but also for all people in Public Life: a ‘recall’ with teeth, which would strip anyone ‘recalled’, of their ill-gotten riches, pensions and status, before condemning them to a life-long job as a ‘Deep-fried Mars-Bar’ taster, or the equivalent in England, which would probably be a sewage channel cleaner, or an apologist for a British politician.
When the Great Fire of 1666 razed much of inner London to the ground, Sir Christopher Wren piloted a Bill through Parliament which banned wooden-framed buildings from being built in London, and this Act remained in force for over three hundred years, A plan to by-pass this Act, partly because, if the buildings used wood, they would help combat ‘CLIMATE CHANGE and GLOBAL WARMING‘, backed heavily by the UK Timber Frame association, sellers of, so help me, Wooden Framed Buildings got through, partly because there was a test burn, in a large hangar, of a test-built six-storey buiding, which was easily extinguished by firemen. What was not mentioned, in the building report, was the fact that the fire arose again in the smouldering timbers, and the whole building was consumed by fire!
Councils throughout England have no idea of the numbers of wooden-framed buildings erected since the Act was by-passed!
Fast forward to September 15th, when the nearly-complete Nottingham University Carbon Neutral Laboratory for Sustainable Chemistry burned to the ground in a huge fire, which unfortunately proved, once more, that Sir Christopher Wren was right all along. The entire building, funded by a donation from GlaxoSmithKline, costing some £15 million had been erected according to the most rigorous environmental principles, made with a wooden frame and other “sustainable” materials, and powered with “renewable” energy, so that the structure could remain “carbon neutral” throughout its lifetime. Unfortunately, the fire-prevention and alarm systems were either still being installed, or not; instead of being the first systems to be enforced on site, especially as it was a WOODEN BUILDING; and as WOOD CATCHES FIRE RATHER EASILY, any Engineer would have told them that their first priority would be to protect a building, finished or not, which, being entirely of wood, would always BE A RISK!
The German word?
We are informed that the UK Government are actively considering direct air strikes, and even infantry action, against the Muslim terrorists of Islamic State. We are told that, partly because of the murders of two Americans, and now two British hostages, military coalitions are being formed to fight and to destroy Islamic State. Now as to the motives, stated or otherwise, of the politicians who are pushing or discussing this bombing campaign, we are only informed that such matters are ‘under consideration’. Whether the UK Government would like to be involved, despite all the ‘hawkish’ war-talk about the ‘evil’ men who killed in the name of their religion, is one question. Whether Parliament, who fortunately enough now holds the ultimate power to send our Armed Forces to war or not, will assent to yet another Arabic adventure which has the capacity to turn into Libya (squared) is yet another question.
But we shall leave the geo-politics to one side, and concentrate on the two British individuals for whom, if we surmise correctly, this nation is preparing to go to war. First we hear of Mr. Haines as a man who was ‘helping resolve conflict’ in Croatia, and then in Africa, Libya and the Middle-east. We are also told that he was an independent ‘consultant’ working with a French NGO. We are also told that he worked for a civilian outfit named Non-violent Peaceforce in the Sudan, before leaving for ‘greater freedom’ in yet another job. Now, if we ‘read between the lines’ as it were, he comes across as an idealistic fool of the first calibre, always wanting to ‘help others’ where there was suffering; but a slightly more cynical mind might even find him heading out in a series of ever-more well-paid positions, and ‘helping himself’ more that the people he was supposedly protecting or helping. Then we hear of the second hostage, who travelled out in a ‘mercy convoy’ to Syria because he ‘wanted to help’, and hope was expressed that he would be freed because he was a volunteer. How daft can you actually get? Just examine, if you would, the track record of the fools who ‘help’. Have they succeeded in Libya, or Sudan, or Syria, or Afghanistan, or Iraq? Of course they haven’t; but they keep on going out, because they just ‘know’ that they will succeed, because they ‘know best’!
As I have maybe stated before, how is it that these clowns, and I do consider them all as true clowns, think that they know better by going against all sane advice into the most dangerous territories on this Earth? Just remember that the Islamic State bunch are, first and foremost, fundamentalist Muslim, and therefore enemies of all that is Western. They hate us because we have free speech, they hate us because we believe in the rules of Law, and they hate us because we are not Muslim. So why do these lunatics, idealistic or otherwise, think that they know better than people who have lived with these problems for a very long time? Ignore the newspapers, ignore the television commentators and pundits; concentrate on reality.
Over the years since I returned, along with my wife and family to these sometimes green and pleasant lands, I have become immune to the constant nudges, shouts, demands and instructions from the Health Nazi Brigades seemingly permanently employed by various Government departments to keep on telling us that we are too fat, too idle, too lazy, too unhealthy; that we should, or alternatively should not, eat various substances, foods which are ‘in favour’ of the particular science, or medical, or indeed paranormal, beliefs of the moment. First we have to keep drinking red wine, because it staves off heart disease. Then a year later, another wild-eyed scientific prophet comes out with a study which ‘proves’ beyond all reasonable doubt that red wine is a killer, and thus to be avoided at all costs. Then we have the vegetarian and vegan people calling for red meat to be banned, because that is the prime push for an early death.
Now I do know, and accept, that my mate David is a vegan, but I also know that he is far too well-mannered to push his beliefs, regarding eating or anything else, on to any of the rest of us. Which is the whole point of my writing. If these people believe so fervently in the truth of their cause, why do they not simply state that they will be adopting/abjuring the particular food/drink/substance which is the subject of their cause/derision, and then ask; repeat ‘ask’ if those of us who give their research credence, to join them, and then see if the rest of the population suffers the early death they have predicted?
Readers will understand, now, the real reason for my writing today, was the sighting, in our local Tesco last Friday, of a young woman who was literally stick thin. She looked exactly the same, from her stick-like legs, through her painfully-thin lower body and torso, to her gaunt and ravaged face; as the victims who emerged from the Japanese and Nazi-German death-camps of Dachau and Changi. Now I may be many things, but daft is not one of them; so I did not move forward and intervene, as maybe a well-meaning fool would have done, with this young woman who was obviously intent on killing herself; mainly from a well-developed sense of self-preservation. I did not ask a perfect stranger if she knew how ill she actually was! Many other fellow shoppers looked askance at this walking skeleton, but none spoke to her, and so neither did I. Cowardly? Possibly, but there is the curse of modern life, in Great Britain at least. Should I have spoken out? I do not know, but, having hesitated, I remained silent.
I recall, some years ago, standing in the local butchers shop on a Saturday morning. In front was this young boy, who was finishing paying for his purchases. He carried the meat back towards the entrance, and then attempted, struggling with the load; to pick up some seven other well-laden shopping bags, as he, and he alone, was doing all the family shopping! Now the thought which passed through not only my mind, but also at least two other people behind me in the queue, was to offer a hand to get his load back to where he was headed; but, strangely, I hesitated, because just at that time was a particularly nasty case of paedophilic child abuse in the headlines: and the lady behind the counter must have read our collective minds; because she gave a very distinct negative headshake and nod to all of us in the queue. So, we all minded our own business, and this young boy struggled away down Silver Street, and away to where his no doubt strangely-uncaring family lived.
Are we our brothers’ keeper? We should be, but, somehow, the fear of being mistaken; of being regarded as something rather nasty and semi-evil, prevents us from taking action or speaking out. It is, indeed, a funny old world!