And this is the Biased BBC reporting!

When the BBC is accused of partisan and biased reporting and commentary, the reply is always the same:-

” We are content that our reporters, and the reporting and commentary from those same reporters, work in a completely neutral world; and where comments are made, justification is always provided for any stance.”

As I listened to a spot on the BBC Today Programme at 01.34 into the programme, where the surfacing of more of Hillary Clinton’s hidden e-mails was being discussed; in a conversation with an American supporter of the Democratic candidate, Justin Webb from that same ‘totally impartial BBC’ was heard to state,

‘Voters are turning to Hillary because the alternative is so uniquely ghastly’;

as well as in a conversation with Congressman Doug Collins;

‘So America has a choice between a Racist, Misogynist, Narcissistic Thug (in Donald Trump); and a woman (Hillary Clinton) who was secretive and possibly dishonest about her e-mails’.



There’s that totally impartial and unbiased reporting and commentary in full view!

just a Sign of the times?










Trouble is, the liberal MSM, clinton-clones and all the heavies, with the honourable exception of Fox, spews out the Trump-ed hatred, whilst completely ignoring the steady leak of damaging e-mails via WikiLeaks regarding Clinton-Podesta.

Signs that Trump’s predictions are commencing to emerge as being absolutely correct, giving rise to suggestions that the tv series ‘The Walking Dead’ has a new cousin in production named ‘The Voting Dead‘.

MInd you, there is a truly surprising voice which has just come to my attention, surprising because of the man who uses that voice. He has been vitriolic in his condemnation of most things G.O.P., and especially Republican Presidents, and I don’t think he has had some sort of religious revival; but I do believe that beneath that pudgy exterior lies a mind which has examined the Trump phenomenon, and quietly, if reluctantly, admires what the Donald has said!



From ‘Go’ to ‘Woe’ in 12 SECONDS

When I write or comment upon matters Engineering, I do so from a lifetime’s exposure to Electrical and Mechanical industrial practices. I know what happens before you switch on a light, charge a laptop battery, or switch an oven on: and I also know how the generating process both works and is governed. The rules are clear, and the first rule is ‘Safety first’. Nothing else comes close to ensuring that, whatever task is set, you must ensure that the team, whether a four man group working in a Power station switchyard, or literally hundreds working on a site which you control, they all get to go home safely at the day’s end. The second part of ‘Safety First’ is to ensure that whatever you do, or plan, or change; will not impede, or negate, the system which you are either constructing, changing or improving.

When I was far younger, the whole of the Power supply was owned by the British public, and operated on its behalf by Engineers. The National Grid, transformed beyond the original, which was designed to run as a Publicly-owned Utility; now buys power from a variety of sources, and sends that power from coal, combined-cycle gas- and steam-turbines, nuclear; along with the rag-tag army of alleged ‘renewables’ (wind, solar, woodchip, sewage; the usual suspects); into the overhead pylons and cables of the Grid, through local and hub substations to our homes and workplaces. But the beauty of the British system, although poorly tended by virtue of the politics which have been so ruthlessly imposed upon the British public which has been so consistently lied to for many years; e.g. ‘climate change’, is still, JUST, diverse enough to accept the huge demands on the power generation sector without too much reliance on the true ‘stand-by sector’, which is of course five or six very expensive heavy oil-fuelled generating stations; together with hundreds of small diesel gen-sets which can be switched on in a matter of minutes; but at a very large cost!

The linked graphic  gives an updated picture of the UK generation capability, with the base-load, comprised of some eighty percent of load shared by coal, CCGT and nuclear, together with 8% of varying capacity from garbage, namely wind, solar and sewage; along with the interconnectors from France and Holland. It is, as the National Grid people admit, sometimes a struggle, but we manage. As I stated, we have had to deal with Eu Regulations and ‘fiats’ which have deprived the system of perfectly viable power stations, primarily because they do not ‘gel’ with the EU Commission’s ideas of acceptability (coal; heavy oil, etc.) because of the aforementioned lies regarding ‘global warming’, together with the truly lunatic Climate Change Act in the UK Parliament, which ties us to the ridiculous ideas of ‘renewables’, along with ‘carbon reduction’; and all the garbage with trails alongside that truly ludicrous idea. We have, fortunately, a base load capacity which, although creaking at the seams, manages.

We manage; unlike our cousins in the State of South Australia, who, for purely political reasons, have invested in wind turbine farms to the suicidal rate of over forty-five percent of connected load, with the remainder base load brought in by 275kV Interconnector lines from out of State. Their last coal-fired station was closed some time back, and the dependence of South Australia’s reliance on wind power was rated at 883 MW. The entire debacle, which BLACKED OUT THE ENTIRE STATE, took a total of TWELVE seconds to return South Australia to Victorian times, and the blackout lasted for over a day and a half. Check out the post from JoNova, and, although technically-biased in certain areas, gives the reader a better understanding of what actually happened, and the reason why this graphic is absolutely true!



There are none so blind……

As our blogging colleague Raedwald asserts, the ONLY reason these thugs are permitted to enter the United Kingdom is through the gullibility, stupidity and downright devious behaviour of the so-called Social workers, along with the lurking Charity cohorts who despise the very idea of border control, and do their very best to damage and subvert the rules.



The photo, unpixellated, tells the real story. The MEN who are being escorted past the border guards have succeeded where their friends have failed. The scum who try, night after night, to climb onto the lorries bound for the Calais docks are at least honest: the bunch of ‘Children’ arriving are now’t more than liars and thieves; and should be treated as such!

This is a Public Service broadcast.

Residents and visitors to Manchester are warned that a large procession of attention-seeking clowns (minus costumes) are expected to be driven through a large portion of Manchester’s main streets today. The smiles, surgically installed on all those processing, are guaranteed to demonstrate the sheer joy at being exhibited to those who, willingly or unwillingly; funded their exertions over the years which culminated in the Rio Olympics.


Travellers are warned that large numbers of camera phones will be used along the length of this parade, and the ambulances have been alerted to be able to carry off those participants who are either photo-sensitive, or embarrassed.


The corporate logos of all the companies whose products were so instrumental in the winning of those medals will not be carried, as Roche, Merck, Glaxo-Kline and Johnson&Johnson refused to pay the truly exorbitant sums demanded by Team GB. Some ‘athletes’ were happy at this news, as they didn’t wish for the news to emerge that most of the medals were won on a combination of fraud, medical interference; along with plain, straight-forward doping!

The whole farce will be transferred to Trafalgar Square tomorrow, where ever more squeals of false delight shall be recorded. Residents of both cities are advised to remain calm, as the turmoils and queues will be resolved, and normal stagnation levels will return as soon as possible.

So is it Clubs, Hearts or Diamonds?

Donald Trump……Sexual Predator?


Donald Trump……Presidential Candidate targeted by rumour and innuendo?


As for which is correct, and true; I veer towards the latter, but then that is just my own personal belief. I believe that everyone, is afforded the ultimate right to be deemed innocent until proven guilty!


But, I ask you, dear readers; in all sincerity: How come, in the most litigious country in the world, these accusations have not surfaced before? How come not a single one of these women who have made such devastating charges did not promptly level these accusations in a courtroom? How is it that these accusations only emerge in the closing stages of a Presidential Election, when all these allegedly-horrified women have had YEARS to make their case?

The single ‘X’ which makes all the difference!

As the man said, ‘If you have a pile of crap in your cupboard, it is best not to point at the equally large pile which rests squarely with your opponent’. I have not watched the whole #debatesquabble 2.0, nor am I likely to, but instead have watched edited sections and pieces placed online. I agree with my friend James that, if one depends upon the huge American broadcasters and dead-tree publishers, along with their tame bunch of ‘rentaquote’ clones; you shall never get a true sense of what actually happened: or, more importantly, the impact on middle America of Trump’s carefully-sensed and timed attack on Hillary’s husband, the well-known philanderer Bill; a.k.a. The loosest Zip in Town. The very fact that Trump was able to locate these four women, rape victims all: hold a mini-styled press conference, with all the accusations recalled about how Hillary knew her client was guilty, but managed to virtually get him off the hook by lacerating the victim in open court: and then place all four in full sightline of Bill Clinton was a demonstration of his determination to take the fight to Hillary, and through her of course to the ex-president.

Piers Morgan is not a man whom I trust, nor would I normally give credence to an opinion authored by that writer, but, he writes, in this particular instance, from a desire to state exactly what happened; and to hell with his preconceived ideas about how bad Donald Trump actually was.

One particular American commentator opined that the American voting population was split 45:45, and the remaining ten percent  was the portion which had to be reached and persuaded that the candidate for President which employed the smartest political team would be the one who eventually won. But, in a strange way, the American political process has morphed from an antagonism to the expected, through the almost revolutionary ideals of the Tea Party, to the totally unexpected exuberance of a candidate who defies definition; whose polling figures look like a graph drawn by a wounded lion. A lion whose very existence was laughed off with genuine enthusiasm, but the very things which horrifies the political elite on both sides make him so ultra-attractive to the voter who believes that he, or indeed she, has had a real raw deal from those who deemed themselves ‘appropriate’ to govern America: and decided to give an amateur, and a self-financing amateur at that, a fighting chance to see what he can do.

Despite all the mountains of opposition crap which has been piled high, and then thrown at this strange, convoluted, vulgar billionaire, he has defied conventional thought, and survived the cruellest battering from both the Opposition Democrats, and more heavily, his own Republican party.

My prediction? If the ballot-stuffing Democratic bunch can be forced away from the boxes and voting machinery; Trump; the ineffable Donald himself, might just turn the corner and win in the final furlong!

Silver threads?

The glorious colour has faded from your hair. Your eyes lost their sparkle some time ago, but that wasn’t time’s fault, or yours either: a savage mental illness robbed you of that light, and much more besides. I use a hoist and a padded sling to help me get you changed and dressed on a morning; but I do so willingly, because you are my love, my light, and my wife.



We stood before that altar Forty-Nine years ago today; and I saw that same slightly sardonic smile as that pictured, as I looked into your eyes when we made our vows. The words, which so many appear just to mumble without meaning: that promise to look after each other “In Sickness, and in Health; until Death do us part’, echo down the years.

We have known great happiness, much laughter and a compensating amount of sadness; we have given life to three magic kids, adults all now themselves; and we can gaze at four grandsons to add to the credit balance of life.

Fortunately, I can look after you, as I have said before, and I hope that I am given a few more years yet before we say ‘Goodbye’.

Happy Anniversary, my Love!

and when did you last see your father?

A fellow (or rather sister ) blogger has come up with a rather interesting reason why the top QC, who has been at the Independent Inquiry (No, this one, not that one; do keep up) since the beginning; has jacked everything in.

Seems as though this particular lawyer, who seems to have been rather keen on evidence, and cross-examination, and legal stuff like ‘the truth’ has got more than a little chewed-off by the thoughts of Chairwoman Jay.

Professor Alexis Jay, from her social work background would like to see a ‘greater role for forums, focus groups and expert seminars’, that can give survivors the ‘closure’ that comes from ‘being believed’ without any nasty ‘triggering’ that could arise from a ‘forceful and abrasive’ barrister who might have the temerity to ‘put to you’ that unicorns don’t actually exist.

I will admit for having a teensy-weensy soft spot for La Jay; for it was she whose Rotherham report blew the lid off the Muslim rape saga; but, I suppose, she has learnt, or ruled, that some of the ‘survivors’ are so mentally delicate that if anyone even asked where the exit was; they’d collectively have a ‘fit of the vapours’!

So the Inquiry rolls ever onwards, with the millions rolling out towards the QC’s bank accounts, along with the lovely lolly heading towards the massed ranks of ‘the possibly; if not actually probably’ abused, who have suffered so much, for so long, and all that (the cash is of course not compensation, its just to soothe the hurt feelings engendered by cynics like me who demand, well; proof!

As to whether any of this farrago is justified: your guess is as good as mine. It is fairly likely that some of the complainants have a case, but they should have gone to court, and hammered there, instead of playing by the solicitors advice, and waiting for ‘closure’ (whatever that may mean) in an Inquiry which looks as though it will go on for decades.

An addition to a prior Post

I often rant and rave at the stupidity of allowing two million (and counting) Muslims into this crowded set of small islands. I honestly call them the true ‘Fifth Column’ because that is what they are. They do not assimilate, nor do they integrate; they stand alone, insular and defiant; because they know that their ‘effing allah will succeed. All they have to do is breed, and they shall, eventually, overcome.

But it is, unfortunately, not the first time that a Religion has taken power in either a whole country, or region of a country. Not overtly, that would have been instantly detected, and crushed; but slowly, insidiously, and totally, using one means of power alone, and that is the fear of eternal damnation if its needs and demands are not met. I commenced writing about Islam, but the religion of whom I write now is an older one, namely Roman Catholicism. Readers might think that I engage in hyperbole; but fear not: I can prove every word, every sentence which I write.

The Country is of course, the island of Ireland. Split into the Republic and the British Province of  Northern Ireland, the insidiously deadly purpose of the Church, which was to govern and rule, was implicit in every Law, every provincial Council, every Parish bulletin issued or debated within the Republic. The Bishops’ word was akin to Law, the rule was achieved with an iron fist encased within a silken glove, and the Parish Priest was taken and accepted as the Speaker of the True Gospel, and what they said, what they demanded, was given and achieved unstintingly. Their power was slightly diluted within Northern Ireland, because the Protestant Anglicans, together with the Orange Order, ruled the roost in Belfast; but there were hundreds of small Catholic churches in the province: and where there was a Catholic Priest, there was a man whose word was Law, whose demand was that there be children, and more children, from every marriage; for the idea of contraception and worse; abortion: was anathema to Rome, and of course Dublin. Add to that the unspoken tribute paid to the IRA, whose very existence was both accepted and acknowledged in the Dublin Hierarchy, and you have what was a reality, the rule of the Word backed up by the rule of the Gun.

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.

I watched the documentary by Martin 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 slave labour in the Magdalene 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!

New to me, mainly because I am unable to travel to cinemas because I am needed at home, was the viewing of the award-winning movie Spotlight  (on Amazon Prime) which gave a merciless dissection of the iron grip which the ‘eminent’ Cardinal Law held, by means both legal and extra-legal; over the treatment of the victims of sexual abuse carried out by priests within the Boston diocese, and the manner in which those same priests were protected, nourished and passed around the Diocese like knights and rooks on a life-sized chessboard; but in a game of chess where the only losers were the boy and girl victims of these cassocked predators, penetrated and/or sodomized by those same ‘Men of God’; and the winner was always the bloody Catholic Church, along with the Boston diocese. The Diocese KNEW of the abuse, KNEW of the lies, the fabrications and the deceit, and did ‘eff all about it, because the ‘Good Name of the Diocese’ might be besmirched.

The final frames of the movie say it all.

  • There were 249 priests and brothers publicly accused of sexual abuse in Boston diocese.
  • Well over 1000 survivors in Boston alone.
  • In December 2002, Cardinal Law resigned; but was reassigned to the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, one of the most prominent churches in Rome.
  • Major abuse scandals have surfaced from Brazil to New Zealand, From England to Canada, from Australia to Ireland.

If this is what one has to expect from a Religion which professes love, peace and charity; may God, if there is a God, help us if they ever put their minds to revelling in their dispassionate License to deprave and terrorise!

and no, they don’t live happily ever after!

I have been signed up to the use of the same bank for some fifty-odd years of my commercial and private life, both in Great Britain and in South Africa. I was forced to leave for some ten-odd years because the companies for whom I worked in South Africa banked with a South African-based bank, and demanded that I do so, for ease of accounts etc. The fact that I swerved sideways back to Barclays upon my return to England says only that I knew the bank, felt comfortable with them, and also that I wished to continue an arrangement which began when I first had a bank account with Barclays, opened in a small former mining village in South-West Durham.

When political and banking pundits complain about the vast majority of the British people not switching bank accounts, they blame ‘apathy’, or ‘inertia’, or a combination of the two, which could be termed ‘I really canna’ be bothered’. We are all told, in glowing adverts, of the ease with which our standing orders, our mortgage payments, our insurance direct debits; can now all be transferred with just ‘one or two clicks of a mouse’, and all will be well. We just don’t believe this rubbish, and until we hear of large numbers of accounts moving almost seamlessly from one bank to another, we shall continue to disbelieve the rubbish. Possibly the simplest truth in this plethora of disinformation is that we just don’t really see the point; when the interest rate, at the bank which has its widest winning smile surgically installed on to every employee, is within 0.0005% of that doled out by the bank you are with at present.

There is, however, one bank to which I would never, ever, in a million years, think of even approaching. That bank is Lloyds. Have they stolen money? Have they behaved egregiously? Are they the equivalent of Robber Barons? As to all three queries, my answer must simply be ‘I do not know’. But one thing I do know; which is that I dislike, intensely, being advised, even on a subliminal basis, that my dislike of homosexual behaviour, as well as homosexual-friendly legislation, along with the very idea that homosexual behaviour, ideas and beliefs are not akin to perversion, is somehow beyond the pale within British Society. I disagree with the whole idea that once the act has been de-criminalised, everything else is okay. I disagree that a man can marry a man, despite that now being legal. An Act of Parliament does not make a perversion acceptable, to those such as I who believe in the sanctity of Marriage. Sex, and the very act of love, is there for a single purpose, which is to beget children; and marriage is simply for the protection of children who spring from that union. So why my dislike of Lloyds? Why do I bang on, despite many saying, ‘well, they have what they have demanded, which is legal acceptance; why go on, and on, about what is, after all, something which is both legal and accepted within modern Britain today? It is simply that I do not accept that my grandchildren grow up in a climate which accepts, without comment, a perverted sexual practice in their communities. Run the Lloyds Bank advert; which is a format of ‘freeze-frames’ of the ‘diversity’ of British life, and wait until the 18 second, and then 48 second mark, and then see if you agree that you ARE being told that some bloke asking some other bloke to ‘marry him’ is just part of the progress of this Country which has become so foreign to one who was born here?