The parents? Plain stupid, thick and obtuse!

As humans grow into maturity, we all develop ways of thinking, we all have to accommodate other people and their needs and desires; we all have to, literally get along. Most of what makes our patterns of life are unconsciously absorbed from our parents: and it is a fact that, from birth to five years-old, children absorb and learn everything which serves as a base for their future growth and life. My own philosophy, which I can state is mine own because it works for me, has grown over the years to encompass my family, the ones I love without exception. Put plainly, it states: You can only play the cards that you are dealt’.

I have learnt that ‘Responsibility’, that Duty’, that ‘Family’; are more than words: they are signposts by which one human being has, and indeed continues; to learn, and to accept that which he has undertaken. I tend to ‘tell it as I see it’, and if that means I come across as hard, bitter and uncompromising; so be it. Life is hard, and uncompromising; and if you don’t stand up, speak out and fight for what you believe in: you really shouldn’t have bothered! I have compassion, but not for fools; not for those who simply ‘knew best’!

I have striven, over the years, to advise my kids (now of course adults all themselves), from my own experiences and knowledge. I hope that, when my time to die arrives, they will look back upon the times, decisions, beliefs and actions of my life, and determine, ‘he did his best’. They might reminisce of the many times I told of the same happenings, and of the equal number of times they refrained from telling me they had heard it all before; but if that was a failing, hopefully it will be one of the few. I have given my kids advice on many subjects, but never insisted on holding to that advice, because they all have to make their decisions, all of which in the light of ‘what is best for them, and their families’. I hope that my life will be reflected in the lives of my sons and daughter; along with the four bundles of nitro-glycerine masquerading as grandsons. My family is, in mine own view, my attempt at immortality; and I would, and indeed have done, deal out extreme physical damage to one who would even think of assaulting or attacking my kids.

So it is that I can read of a death which should not have happened; should not have even been contemplated: and simply came too early in a lifespan which could have been counted in the decades: and state, categorically that this was due to a failing on the parents’ side. The young person, described by parents as a delightful strong-willed, caring and compassionate child (who) had developed into a courageous and confident young woman, was, unfortunately, nothing of the kind. She was, instead, wilful, headstrong, disdainful of advice which might have saved her bloody life: she thought she was ‘Invincible’.

Sorry, darlin’, the only Invincibles I know come care of Marvel Comics, and they only have a shelf life. The parents did not get their daughter into the single state of mind which told her “The only pills I take are from either a registered pharmacist or chemist, or a pack which has been supplied on a doctor’s prescription.” The parents might have stated, as reported in the news article, “Leah had the benefit of good information and advice from many different sources at various intervals of her adolescent life,” as well as Leah was well aware of the nature of different illicit substances and the risks attached.: but she wasn’t warned harshly or strongly enough. ‘She was only fifteen, she wasn’t, as they stated, ‘a courageous and confident young woman, she was, in reality, a spoiled brat who wouldn’t be told; wouldn’t take advice; and she died because of her own stupidity, and because the parents were simply not good enough!

I come to bury her, and to praise her!

I have always considered the funeral of Princess Diana to be the ultimate triumph of hypocrisy. Her marriage was a managed fiasco, her engagement was a farce, as the poor girl had only been alone with her future husband nine times before they became engaged; and as for her marriage! The only good thing to emerge from that disaster area were the two young Princes: and that was what she had been virtually hand-picked for. Diana was regarded by most of the Royal organisation as, quite simply, a brood-mare. The Line needed a direct heir, and hopefully a spare, and when that particular task was achieved, Diana’s job was seen to be completed: Charlie just waddled back to the local aristocratic bleached-blonde bicycle he had been, literally, riding for most of the time his marriage was in being, and Diana; that wonderful mother and woman was left to pick up the pieces. She received some support from Edna, but the rest of the pack watched as her life fell apart, then the separation; and finally the divorce.

Advice came there none, help was in short, very short supply; and as a direct result; the paparazzi’s wet dream gave up her Royal Protection detail, and she walked forwards, alone, into the storm; checking out the fools, vagabonds and Hooray-Henries as she passed. She died as she had lived, at a high and dangerous speed, accompanied by some Arabic dozy wanna-be who fancied his chances. She was guarded by the Arab’s father’s bodyguards; but unfortunately no-one thought to breathalyse the driver, and she died because the drunken fool tried to out-race paparazzi on high-powered motorcycles.

But worse was to follow. The funeral, a purely private one as wished for by the Spencer family, was transformed into a semi-state occasion; probably as a belated attempt to apologise for all the crap the Establishment, together with the Royals; had ladled out so carelessly when she was alive.

Her brother, Earl Spencer, did not wish anyone but Charles and himself to walk behind the cortege; but he was told the boy princes William & Harry had consented to walk behind their mother’s body. Interviewed by the BBC, Earl Spencer stated ‘Buckingham Palace staff, and Government lied to me. I was distraught; never mind the boys; as they walked through that wave of emotion from the crowds as they followed the noise of the horses’ hooves.’

At the funeral itself, Diana’s sister spoke, and was instantly forgotten, Prime Minister Blair spoke with a biblical quotation, and I doubt if anyone really noticed it; Elton John’s re-working of the song which actually was written in memory of Marilyn Monroe was played, and it was as gloopy as was envisaged; but then Earl Spencer stood, faced his world-wide audience, gripped the lectern, and delivered his verbal atom bomb, aimed straight at both the paparazzi whom he blamed for her death; and the Family whom he believed had deserted her once her task was over.

The only genuine emotion in the whole circus, came not from the funeral, not from the Abbey, not from the assembled show-biz squad in the cheap seats: but instead from the hundreds of thousands seated in the various Royal Parks. As Earl Spencer finished his dose of verbal dynamite as he praised his dead sister; ending with the words:- we, your blood family, will do all we can to continue the imaginative and loving way in which you were steering these two exceptional young men so that their souls are not simply immersed by duty and tradition, but can sing openly as you planned”: that massive audience stood, almost as one; and sent that applause, never, never ever before heard at a funeral, rolling across the Parks, sweeping across the silent, still streets; and thundered into the crowded Abbey itself; startling the staid and sober congregation, just as Diana herself had done so many times before.

That was the single tribute which was honest, was heartfelt, did actually meant something.


Seriously violent protests quelled across Cuba!

The delusion that Cuba is somehow more free after the old goat’s death has suffered yet another embarrassing revelation.

Obama made a deal with the Castro regime, said it gave them access to tourism, gave them the belief that if you are interested in promoting freedom, independence, civic space inside of Cuba, then the power of things like remittances to give individual Cubans some cash, even if the government was taking a cut, that then allowed them to start a barbershop, or a cab service, was going to be the engine whereby individual Cubans—not directed by the United States, not directed by the C.I.A., not through some grand conspiracy—can now have their own little shop and have a little bit of savings and start expecting more.”

So Donald Trump gets elected, and reverses most of the Obama deal, stating “We challenge Cuba to come to the table with a new agreement that is in the best interest of their people, of our people, and of Cuban-Americans. We call for an end to the abuse of dissidents, release political prisoners, stop jailing innocent people, open yourselves up to political and economic freedoms.”

In an escalation of the arbitrary arrests and detentions against the Ladies in White, a dignified, silent protest group who always dress in white; seventy women were forcibly detained, some whilst on their way to church for Sunday mass. One of the serious charges levelled against these terrifying demonstrators (my sarcasm) was their statement that the Government charged her with “public disturbance” for shouting “down with Raúl”

See what I mean? The terrifying sight and sounds of a middle-aged woman calling for a dictator to stand down: why it calls for a battalion of armour on the streets in reply! Why, just think of the damage she could do with her handbag!

Oh say, can you see: kneels he still yet?

As most readers accept, I rarely write upon matters sporting because I have scant knowledge of, and indeed lesser interest in, Sports; either in particular or in general. If any one of my mates comments upon some sporting item or other, I just nod and say little or nothing; mainly because I usually haven’t a clue as to what is being talked about. My mates and wider family all accept that ‘sports’ and ‘Mike’ just do not mix; and leave it like that. My late brother (the sports nut-case of our family) once stated that ‘I had no soul’; and his opinion, whilst not exactly on target) is just as valid as others.

But I picked up on an op-ed piece regarding Colin Kaepernick, and that particular gentleman’s attitude towards his Country, his Country’s anthem, and his use of that Nation’s very rights to harshly criticise the things in which he loudly proclaims that change is needed. Seems as though, after stating that he despises America’s attitude towards black people, even more vehemently affirming his support for ‘Black lives matter’; and that ‘pressure groups’ attitude towards America’s Police, for America’s dissonance towards all minorities; and in general and in his own words:-

“I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color. To me, this is bigger than football, and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder.”

As to mine own viewpoint; this must be viewed from a stance which states that, as far as I know, there is one hell of a difference between American Football and the British version. I believe that, in America, they handle the ball quite a bit: in England; not so much. But, whilst mainstream America respects the right to protest, in any and every way possible, mainstream Football-crazy America, with the Flag being saluted at every occasion, with patriotism being virtually handed out along with the doughnuts: it seems as though Mr.  Kaepernick has chosen the wrong set of targets to kneel before. He seems to be disrespecting the very things which give him the right to shout from the rooftops of his unhappiness.

Mr.  Kaepernick is now out of contract with his old team, but despite making his availability known all around the circuit, coaches have picked, signed and carried off men of, apparently, far less talent than he.

As one commentator wrote:- Indeed, the greater glory of America is that better men than he have died to preserve and protect the All-American right of Colin Kaepernick to be a jerk.

So the query must be, ‘Has Colin Kaepernick protested enough; and if he should quit his sitting, or kneeling, and get back towards the mainstream: should he be welcomed back into the fold?’

Salute to the ‘Little Ships’, and the men and boys who crewed them

One of my all-time favourite films is a light comedy entitled ‘The Bishop’s Wife’, starring Cary Grant, David Niven and Loretta Young. One of the many reasons for my affection for this film is the scene in the old church where Grant, (playing an angel) produces, out of seemingly nowhere, the boys who had once drifted away from the choir, to sing Noël (Montez À Dieu – O Sing to God) by Gounod. Irreligious these days I may be; but the music, and those voices, speak to me as though they are at my very doorstep. But the man who wrote the original story, upon which the film was based, was an American poet named Robert Nathan.

Mr. Nathan’s works were many and varied, but the words which caught my attention were written to honour the ordinary people who made the real Dunkirk possible. It is true that the vast majority of those rescued came by the Navy’s destroyers; but many of those rescued made their way to the Navy by virtue of the small boats, and their civilian crew. Further to my small posting on the Dunkirk film, I would feature Mr Nathan’s moving words; simply as a salute to those extraordinary ordinary people,

Dunkirk (A Ballad)
Continue reading “Salute to the ‘Little Ships’, and the men and boys who crewed them”

Totally daft, beyond all parody or belief!


I saw the click-bait advert, decided it could not possibly be that bad; but, in reality: it was.

As my old mate used to say; ‘If I hadn’t seen it, I would have had to invent it!’

I shall not link to the advert in question; but leave it to the avid searcher to plumb the depths of sheer, unlimited stupidity which accompanies, and is part of, this strange, almost weird collection and ideal.

Not Industrial Scale: more Pandemic Scale!

I lived in England until I reached my majority at 21. I served in the British Merchant Navy, I then lived overseas, but the place which I called home was England. Its very roots, its Laws, the makeup of our Nation; my very ancestry, from England and from Northern Ireland spoke volumes. The fact that we could walk the streets free of fear, free of violence; free to trust; implicitly, those placed to tend our needs when in need of medical treatment: these things pulled me back when I returned to England.

What has happened to this Land where such freedoms were both implicit and explicit? The Law itself has altered; has swung away from responsibility to ‘rights’; from where a free man could stand and say exactly what he means: to a place where everyone is afraid to say things straight out because someone might be ‘offended’. We used to accept that the saying ‘Innocent until Proven Guilty’ was the Law of the Land. The Law has been biased towards a viewpoint where the very accused has to prove his innocence, not the accuser to prove that the person opposed is guilty. How can one prove that your opponent has not been ‘offended’ by your words or actions? It is impossible to prove a ‘negative’. And so the strings which used to bind us so tightly have been, once more, fatally weakened!

But I mentioned things medical, where the latest attack on our systems is headed, and as usual, the speartip is formed by the Homosexual Lobby, those who would preach that ‘they are just like us’, that they are ‘no threat to our very way of life’: and so on ad infinitum. The homosexual (and other equally-grisly behaviour) lobby has never, ever strayed from the path of demanding that, risk or no risk, their acolytes should not be ‘discriminated against’ from being able to donate blood without any searching questions whatsoever about their sexual practices being asked at all.

Readers may have noticed reference to a scandal regarding the contamination of blood products imported from America. This was in the 1970’s and early ‘80’s, when people suffering from Haemophilia were treated with blood Factor VIII. As the linked article describes, concentrated Factor VIII was derived from many blood contributions, some of which came from blood sold by American AIDs or HIV sufferers, and the virus was therefore delivered straight into the veins of vulnerable haemophiliacs: giving them AIDs/HIV or Hepatitis C. 2,400 have already died, with many more suffering from these terrible diseases. Andy Burnham, former health minister, called the scandal a “criminal cover-up on an industrial scale”.

So the the National Blood Service (Transfusion), then UK State-Run, decided that until further notice, no blood would be allowed to enter the system from any (anal sex-active) homosexual or drug-using person, as the risks were simply too great. This ruling was modified some years back so that blood donation rules prevented people who engage in risky homosexual- or oral-sex behaviour; or drug use, from giving blood for a 12 month period.

We  now move forwards to today, when we read that the government has announced changes to blood donation rules following a review by the Advisory Committee on the Safety of Blood, Tissues and Organs (SaBTO). So the wheels churn around, homosexuals are, seemingly, the good guys nowadays, and their every word is to be trusted, and they now only have to acknowledge that their activities can spawn dread disease up to three months after shoving their penises into some accommodating arsehole (by both name and nature): or some other equally-risky drug use or sexual practice!

We, the users of the blood and plasma now supplied within the NHS, have to take it on trust that the tests, presumably to be carried out on EVERY sachet of blood or plasma passing through the laboratories will actually detect viruses before any incubation period has elapsed. We, the users will have to accept that the SCIENCE behind this ruling has been verified, and we should take it for granted that a Privatised Blood Service has our very best interests at heart! We should also note, with some relief no doubt, that Commercial sex workers, along with those charming individuals who confess ‘sex with a partner who has been sexually active in areas where HIV is common’, are all given that same donor clearance after three months abstinence.

As some may have noted, I was hospitalised a few years back for a major operation, which included many pints of blood to carry me through the process. I made no objection, because I knew I was protected by Law from dread disease! You know something, I am going to find out if I can donate and store my own blood over any time left to me, so that if I need a transfusion, I know where it is safe to look! I will also be advising my adult children to do likewise, for their own protection, as well as my four grandsons!