A true panorama

Once in a while, when I view my world in a rosy light, and consider what my life and my world has given me, instead of what I have lost, I take the time to glance out my front door; and view the true glories which could not have been captured by a Constable, or a Canaletto, because those views last all too briefly.

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I balance the positives and the true treasures of my own life, which can be catalogued as three strong, intelligent, successful and vibrant adult family members, along with the added bonus of three noisy grandsons; against the negatives, of which I have written previously.

I hope, when the time comes for remembrance, and for long after, my sons and daughter will speak of me kindly, remembering my awful jokes in between reminiscence  of a man, and a father, who did his best.

Fluck knew; but Fluck was Fl*cking(TM) wrong

Way back in March this year, the Law Society, an outfit which should have known better, issued ‘guidance notes’ on certain ways of writing wills so as to ensure compliance both with the shithole Sharia Law ideals, as well as British Common Law. The uproar which was unleashed on this august body, and itssuper-diversity-oriented leader, Nicholas Fluck, was sudden, overwhelming, and well-orchestrated.

Mr Fluck, in an attempt to explain away the crazy idea that Sharia Law is compatible with English Law, issued the following:-

“Our practice note focuses on how to do that [distribute assets in accordance with Sharia], where it is allowed under English law. The law of England and Wales will give effect to wishes clearly expressed in a valid will in so far as those wishes are compliant with the law of England. The issue is no more complicated than that.”

A comment upon Mr. Fluck’s advice stated:- “I don’t think (please correct me if I’m wrong) that the LSS have denied the existence of freedom of disposition under English law. That is not the issue here. The issue is whether it is appropriate for a regulatory body in a supposedly secular society that respects diversity to issue guidance on how to comply with a body of rules/beliefs which many argue, and which at least objectively appear to be, fundamentally discriminatory.

Fast forward to today, and the Law Society withdrew all the guidelines which advised High Street solicitors on how to write Islamic wills in a way that would be recognised by courts in England and Wales; they also apologised.

So Fluck’s Law is now no more, and all those Flucking(TM) Muslim lawyers, whom were so grateful for the Law Society’s presumed acceptance of the totally-discriminatory and disgraceful Sharia Law, are so terribly disappointed. Sharia might be alright for the Ragheads, but is definitely not suitable for the English.

The perils of Emily

We read of the travails of Emily Thornberry, pilloried for speaking exactly how she felt, for writing, or rather ‘Tweeting’, of the world as she saw it on that rather boring street in Strood. But it is a fact that, far too often, we see or hear of someone who is either jailed, or dumped upon from a great height, for doing exactly the same. Emily Thornberry is also known as Lady Nugee, the wife of High Court judge Sir Christopher Nugee, and they are an extremely wealthy couple; having specialised in both politics and the Law, and in the legal affairs pertaining to lots of money hiding behind offshore trusts, Jersey tax-laws, and the like. Now there is absolutely nothing illegal, wrong or evil in what Lady Nugee has been doing for over twenty years, but it does mean that she has become somewhat separated from reality, from the reality of life as it is lived outside of Westminster, Islington, and of course Dartmouth Park. There aren’t many ‘crack-houses’ in Islington, apart from the ones licensed by the Met to exist so that the high-flyers can get easy access to the ‘nose candy’ which quite a few both like and need. But apart from the few necessary nasties, nothing much impedes the steady progress of the rich, the wealthy and the connected who live in those leafy suburbs.

I doubt very much if Emily Thorberry has ever come within close range of a ‘White Van’, especially from the back seat of her usual conveyance, not a bicycle, but a large limousine. Strangely enough, there aren’t many homes in those leafy suburbs who would fly one St. George’s flag, never mind three, in the vain hope that the English football team could win anything except a speedy return ticket to Heathrow. To ‘fly the flag’ would be to place yourself beyond the pale; to state that you have demeaned yourself by joining the ‘great unwashed’, the very ‘plebs’ spoken of so kindly by Andrew Mitchell.

The ‘great unwashed’, by the way, are the patient millions who have been conned into the belief that these politicians, the f**king elite who place themselves above the crowd because they are so very special, actually empathise with the aspirations of those many millions who gullibly file into the polling booths and place their vote against the name of one of those ‘very special people’. Politicians, they are a world apart from us all, we who live outside the strange and convoluted village bubbles of Westminster, Islington, Notting Hill and Dartmouth Park. They look down on us, they spurn our hopes, they laugh at our dreams, but they really, really want us to vote for them, once every five bloody years!

A most ingenious paradox.

Consider the facts.

A young woman claims she has been raped, and a jury finds her case proven, and the defendant guilty.

The defence argued firstly that the sex was consensual, as both participants were drunk, and then that the alleged victim, as she had no true recollection of the events, had not suffered. The accused still claims innocence, and refuses to apologise, even after he is released from prison after serving half his sentence.

The problem is compounded by the fact that the accused is a very well-known and prominent footballer; he claims that, even though he has always stated his innocence, he has done his time, and should be allowed to go on with his life.

His life seems to still revolve around football, and his club, Sheffield United, are allowing him to train with the club, but have not yet signed a contract.

Because of the Club’s stance in even considering allowing the rapist’s return, high-profile patrons of the club, such as Jessica Ennis-Hill of Olympic fame has asked that, if the rapist returns to the club, her name should be removed from the stand. Others have followed Jessica’s stance.

The Professional Footballers Association of Ireland have defended the club for their forgiving attitude, and further stated  “There was no violence and thankfully the victim has no recollection of it. This, I hasten to add, does not make it right, or anything close to it, but it is nonetheless a mitigating factor.”

So, should Jessica speak up or shut up; and should this fine, upstanding role-model go back to the pitch, and his extremely-large pay-packet, and bye-gones should be bye-gones; or should he be banned from all football, for life, for this crime of violence against an unresisting young woman?

For Jacqueline.

At the ripe age of 74, I honestly thought that there were no more surprises in my life, but there is, indeed; no fool like an old fool.

myjacquelineMy wife’s mother died a couple of weeks ago, and the wider family gathered for her cremation, without my presence: because my wife is ill, and she depends upon me for everything; but my eldest son and my daughter attended both the cremation service and the gathering afterwards.

One of the things produced to celebrate my mother-in-law’s life was a video compilation of photographs taken over her life-span, which was 94 years; and I received a copy. I played the whole show, and suddenly, I was taken back in time to the evening that I first met my future wife. One family photo, which I had never seen before, showed her in the midst of the photo, but she was wearing the very dress which she wore when we first met. We met in the Empire Ballroom in Leicester Square; we met, and I knew within ten seconds that this was, indeed, the girl for me. The smile on her face in the photo was the same as I remembered watching in fascination as we danced, and talked, and danced again. The video photo is unavailable at present, but I shall find it, and I shall hold it as close as the woman whose smile still reminds me why we married, all those years ago.

The ravages of illness have not been kind to my love, but, occasionally, very occasionally, I see the light in her eyes which attracted me to the woman who has borne my children and been my companion for over forty-seven years.

Down amongst the dead men

I note that the Telegraph Leader this morning praises the ‘returning jihadi prevention and detention’ law as proposed by David Cameron. This proposed Law will give the police yet more powers to grab the passports of people (mainly young men of ‘Asian’ appearance) who are suspected of heading towards Turkey and then on to Syria or Iraq to join the fanatical imbeciles of Islamic State. It also proposes to keep those who have been fighting, and of course killing, out of the UK for two years, unless they agree to ‘De-Radicalization’ at some secure facility; until they see the error of their ways.

I have an alternative suggestion as to how to welcome these returning killers; which is to bring them out of the airport, then gather a sufficient number together in a large container truck, and then detach that container at a suitable location, and tip it into deep water. Just think of it; no fuss, no muss, and a sure way of making damn certain that they will achieve their twisted dreams early; which is that of a sure and certain meeting with those alleged 72 virgins.

True, there must be a certain cost to pay, but, hell; we can afford to pay for the containers!

 

We have made a Covenant with Death;………..

…………………….. and with Hell we are at agreement.

Just a few days ago, we watched as the British Army sneaked quietly out of Camp Bastion, out of Helmand, and of course out of Afghanistan. We shall then see what we have bought with 453 British lives, along with some £30 billions in treasure. Will we see another ‘Peace in our time’, or will we see yet another sad truth that, having blown away the Taliban in double-quick time, we should have then said to the Warlords who have actually governed in that sad, sandy hell-hole, “Its yours now; you wanted it, you run it, because we are leaving now.’ But we didn’t.
We stayed, and we spent 453 lives, the flower of British youth, volunteers all, whether Regular or Reserve, in a veritable splurge of utter stupidity, much the same as the thinking which brought on the utter catastrophe of the Somme in 1916.
We have watched as the poppies were planted, ending just yesterday when the last of 888,246 ceramic memorials were planted in the grass of the Tower of London’s moat; but I still do not believe that most of this nation understands or even accepts the carnage which was the First World War. The Battle of the Somme, on the first day alone, cost some 58,000 British casualties. Some of the Pals’ Battalions, by the end of that Battle, had virtually disappeared; and for what, it may be asked? The trench line; established in the early days of the War, hardly changed. What was lost in one charge, was gained back in another. It was all a waste, of life, of treasure, of the very spirit which kept men fighting despite the loss of everything.
But what was perhaps the worst loss, out of all the casualties, all the change, of the revolutions and of the vast change resultant from the War to end all War, was the loss of the very spirit which may have kept an Austrian corporal from mesmerising an entire Nation into a belief that they could win that Second War, and wipe out the disgrace of the First.
I leave you with one final statistic; when the Taliban, evil and savage though they may be, were in power,another poppy; the Heroin Poppy was virually eradicated. Today, the Poppy fields have given the production of heroin a boost to eighty percent above the line when we went in!

There truly is one shoved out every minute!

 

A woman dressed in a costume is pictured during the biannual ‘Whitby Goth Weekend’ (WGW) festival in Whitby. The WGW festival brings thousands of goths and alternative lifestyle fans from the UK and around the world over a weekend of music, dancing and shopping

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a weekend of music, dancing and shopping”…………”and alternative lifestyle fans”……………and if you believe that, you will truly believe anything!

and there I am, next to Buddy with the beer!

 

 

No, not him, the one next but seven across from him, and then two rows down! His buddy pulled the trigger!

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A compilation of all those SEALS who now claim to have killed/slotted/injured/finished off/drowned/poisoned/silenced/admired/recruited or otherwise came into comparatively-close contact with the guy who actually hid for over five years in plain sight of the Pakistani military and ISI.

 

 

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

Probably the most over-quoted phrase in the entire English history of lawyers, legal stratagems, Security spooks and snoops is the term; ‘who watches the watchers?’

In Great Britain’s legal systems, which vary in details between the four Nations of our Isles, we have built up a trust, almost a standard, which states, in no uncertain terms, that if a person is accused of any crime, he is entitled to a fair hearing, in a properly-constituted court, either by a Magistrate or by a Judge. He is supposed to be represented by a lawyer, paid by Legal Aid if he or she has not enough funds to obtain such representation privately, and ALL discussions between the accused and legal representatives are, and always have been, privileged. That means that if ANY news, discussions, hints, gossip, interpretations,ANYTHING concerning the discussions between the lawyer or solicitor and the person they are representing, is barred from the prosecution.

 

Or so we have been led to believe.

So, after the revelations concerning the oversight and deliberate leaking of Defence discussions to the Security Service and M.I.5, the new caution given to all criminals, of whatever standing, nationality of gravity of crime will have been modified:-

“You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in Court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
The person cautioned is then asked “Do you understand?

You are also advised that recordings may be taken of everything that you say, copies of everything that is written may be made, and all may be given to the Crown Prosecution Service, The Security Services, and interested Parties to aid them in the charges brought against you!

 

Reasons why I never watch….

…………Daytime Television

 

I switched the tv on so I could check whether my ‘Remote Record’ selection has registered on the list I wish to record on my Sky box, and after checking for success, switched over to terrestrial tv before going back to my writing.

When I tell you that, on, I think, ITV, there was an Earth-shattering discussion, complete with revelations, on whether to squeeze, or not to squeeze, facial ‘zits’, I decided that my education needed no further enlightenment, and switched off.

by George, I think he’s got it!

When people discuss George Monbiot, when they speak to criticise the man’s works, or beliefs, or indeed his very right to share the oxygen with anyone else, some get very passionate indeed. He has the ability to provoke comment by simply blowing his nose, never mind writing an essay or an op-ed piece for his employer, The Guardian. I, along with many others, dislike his arrogance in his assumption that only he is right; and therefore everyone else is either misinformed, or just plain wrong.

But even George occasionally gets, at least in my own opinion, certain things right. such as his varied and wide criticisms of the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP), which is an Intercontinental attempt at writing a Trade arrangement between the EU and the USA. The rights and wrongs of this cosy little deal are many and varied, and I see little benefit for ordinary people on either side of the Atlantic from this huge and intrinsically convoluted deal, but George has placed his digit on one very important device, inserted by huge commercial interests, to vary the usual manner in which decisions are challenged within this Treaty. He asks, as do I, why bring in Arbitration, where three private individuals are entrusted with the power to review, without any restriction or appeal procedure, all actions of the government, all decisions of the courts, and all laws and regulations emanating from parliament; when, up to now, our Courts have been up to that challenge?

Not often…..

………..do I detect a thin sliver of admiration when considering David Cameron. After all he brought in the gross and thoroughly perverted Same-Sex Marriage farrago, and now pushing the line that all Faith Schools should support f***king Gay Marriage and Gay Sex; as well as continually lying to us when stating that the whole Nation needed a short sharp dose of ‘Austerity’ under the Chancellor’s plan, so as to decrease the massive Deficit in public spending/borrowing, and then finally having to admit that we are borrowing literally Billions more than we did five-odd years ago. He also throws Billions more of our ‘borrowed money’ in Overseas Aid, which of course is a code-word for handing it over to totally corrupt foreigners, who then stash that cash in their Swiss bank accounts.

But I digress; on to that sliver of admiration. Remember when he was challenged to be photographed in that ‘Feminist Tee-shirt’, and, unlike Millipede and Clegg the Cnut, declined to accept the challenge? Seems as though ‘Our Dave’ dodged the bullet for once, as those Tee-shirts have a dark and stealthy past.

Well, it has emerged that those same Tee-shirts, sold by Whistles for £45.00 apiece, weremanufactured by virtual slave labour in a sweat-shop in Mauritius owned by Mauritian entrepreneur Francois Woo, boss of CMT. CMT has an annual turnover of £125 million. It produces 40 million T-shirts a year for clients including Topshop, Next and Urban Outfitters.It employs 13,000 staff at its factories and about 4,500, all foreign, are housed on site. Migrants come from countries including Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, India and Vietnam.

There are around 2,800 female machinists. Workers are expected to produce around 50 shirts a day and face discipline if they do not reach their target.

Mr Woo said: ‘The Mauritian government has set out a minimum wage that we must pay and we abide by their rules.

‘I am like a parent to the workers. They are free to come and go as they please but if they go out on a weeknight I will not be happy because then they will turn up for work the next day hungover. If people didn’t want to work for us then they don’t have to, nobody is forcing them. If they have the chance to earn more somewhere else then they should go elsewhere.

See what I mean, a real Samaritan, ain’t he?

But seriously well done to Dave, probably because he can see a trap coming, especially if Cleggy and Millipede had already signed up!

“pushing the line that all Faith Schools should support f***king Gay Marriage and Gay Sex;”

I would really like to be a fly on the wall when Stormont, and esp[ecially the DUP; debates the curriculum requirements for that little lot!