The Police turned their backs upon their Sovereign.

At this time of our national mourning, I wish to speak not of our late Monarch, but of the overbearing role of the Government and Police; as opposed to the British public, in our Four Nations. This decline can best be illustrated by photographs: The first is a photo of the queue which was formed to view the late Sovereign’s King George the 6th Lying-in-State: the second is of the new Queen’s Coronation procession, and the third is the heavy-handed attitude of our own version of the Stasi.

The decline, as I and many others see it, is mirrored in the passage of seventy years, and in our loss of personal freedoms. When the late King died, we did not need a massive system of corralling the thousands who wished to pay their respects to their late King. We did not need a host of uniformed nonentities, all wearing those fairly silly fluorescent yellow vests, all proclaiming, “We are your masters! You WILL do as you are told,” as was all so very, very obvious; during those five amazing days and nights when over four hundred thousand ordinary people chose to pay their respects to their late Monarch.

The queue to view the late King George’s Lying-in-State was just over 300,000 strong, possibly less in number that for the Queen; but they had queued, six and eight deep, for over four miles in freezing rain and snow, without any more security than the occasional policeman, caped against that same wind and snow, passing calmly by, with no bloody yellow vest to blare out that he was the BOSS, no barriers at all because it was unthinkable to even accept that it was possible that someone might jump that most British of institutions: the Queue.

Continue reading The Police turned their backs upon their Sovereign.

Chris Kaba died because he was aiming his car at the Policeman.

Career Criminal Chris Kaba was ARMED with a speeding car, aimed at the Policeman who shot the black clown down in self defence

This particular Black Life definitely did not matter, especially when the Armed Officer was defending himself against a known career criminal, who was attempting to escape by driving his car straight at the Policeman.

I am not, as I have maybe mentioned before, a fan of today’s Police, and of the English Police Constabularies. They have become too politicised, too ready to take the offenders’ side of things, too ready to deal with non-existent Hate Crimes; as opposed to actually going out and protecting the Public against Criminality.

But the ‘Suspended’ armed policeman has been the victim of a left-wing cabal, including the Muslim Mayor Khan: whose actions and statements spurred the Met. into suspending this brave man, who was only doing his job; and doing it to the best of his training and ability.

Unlike many millions of British people, I used to own and regularly carried a weapon. It was a .38 calibre Taurus revolver, and I carried it in what was, and still is, one of the most dangerous countries in the world: South Africa. I was forced to draw and fire it in self-defence, but I aimed at the ground because I only wanted to warn the black clown who was advancing on me with a knife. He turned and ran. But I was subsequently visited by a very senior South African Police Major, who warned me that I was given my licence so that I should follow the rules, and shoot to kill. If I reckoned that I could not aim for the best ‘body mass’ of the assailant, I should give up my licence, and sell my weapon. I also had to attend a six week course at a regulated gun club range, so I could re-qualify as a registered licence holder.

The ‘Suspended Policeman’ deserves our support and encouragement, if only because he has been trained to react in the only manner possible when either protecting others, or in self-defence! 

David Beckham. Now there strides a MAN.


Having waited for decades has `GB&NI’ finally found, almost by accident, a HERO worthy of the title.

David Beckham joined that amazing tribute queue for the late Queen, standing and slowly walking, alongside everyone else, from 2 a.m. in the morning using the simple disguise of a dark suit, a cloth cap, and not even considering the offer of a free pass from an MP.

I will be honest, I don’t hold much time for the present crop of Celebrities. In fact, the ONLY man in civilian life whom I would have thought able to carry the title of ‘hero’ before the grin and wispy beard worn by one David Beckham walked that slow, steady five-odd miles; is another footballer, a certain Jackie Milburn. Possibly the ONLY person whose funeral cortege could have completely stopped all Newcastle road traffic on its journey towards St. Nicholas’ Cathedral from his home town of Ashington.

Again, I give you David Beckham, a MAN who knows that the values of his grandfather mean more than all the false trumpery of modern day ‘Celebrity’.

But before I finish, perhaps a comment or two on the ‘planners’ who charted the route, set the rules, and then left it to contractors who presumably tendered for their time in managing that amazing queue.  The ‘Elite’ in amongst the civil service who were given the task of completing the tasks laid down by Her Majesty, who did play a large part in the service, routes, attendances etc. did well by their mates, in allegedly high, and more than likely low, places. Viewers will perhaps be more than annoyed to see that all MPs, and members of the Lords, along with most of the Whitehall scroungers; have been given free passes, for themselves and for four of their cronies, as well as the usual scrounging flock of ‘;Media Slebs’ so that they didn’t have to share even the same air, never mind the same flagstones, as the patient thousands who have dutifully walked those miles from Southwark to Westminster.

If there is an afterlife, I would guess that those famous lips might well be more than firmly pressed together in a semblance of annoyance at the manner in which the Swamp always looks after its own! 

A ‘Site’ for Sore Eyes

Some two odd years ago, my optometrist told me that my eyesight would be deteriorating over the next year, because of cataracts developing in both of my eyes. I felt reassured, because the cataracts had not developed to such an extent that my vision was not yet impaired.

A year later, another eye sight test, and the Main Man told me that I should consider putting myself and the eye test results forward, via my GP, to the NHS, for consideration as to Cataract Surgery. I agreed, because if a specialist states I may soon have a problem, I wanted to do something towards the removal of that problem.

In due course, at the lava-flow speed of the NHS, I received instructions from the NHS that I could book a consultation with an eye specialist. I followed the booking procedure, and received word that, yes, I could make an appointment: but only after a waiting period of forty eight weeks. After a short pause to check if my bank balance was still healthy, I commenced calling all the Private Hospitals to see if my needs could be accomodated. I chose a Newcastle Hospital, as the optical surgery people said that there were vacancies with only a six week wait before the surgery could be done. This of course was at a cost of +/-£2,500.00. I was given the full test treatment, eyes measured for the lens replacement, and had my Left Eye given the full ‘decoke’ treatment. After a three week wait, so my eye sight could adjust itself to the new lens, I found that my left eyesight had gained the full clarity of fifty years ago. 

As I really could not afford another private operation, I set myself to wait; but Lady Luck smiled, and I was contacted by the NHS, and asked If I could take up an appointment which had been cancelled at short notice. So, early March, I was there like a shot, but found that, as opposed to Private Practice, everything moved with that afore-mentioned lave flow speed. I had one appointment with a female consultant, who had all my notes. She checked me out, then told me that I would be given another appointment to be measured. I did murmur that I wondered why I couldn’t be measured then and there, as they had all the latest optical equipment. I honestly did not know until that moment that a facial expression could mirror the mind behind that face, but I learnt at the speed of light that this was the NHS, not private practice, and everyone had to take their place in the queue. 

So I returned, and had my right eye’s lens measured. I then had to cancel the first operation appointment, because I had an attack of the Virus, so had to wait six weeks, as the hospital demanded that no possibility existed of the virus getting exposed in one of their operating theatres. But I eventually got to lie down, and have this alarmingly attractive young woman (Well, at my age everyone is young) slice into my eye, and conduct the whole caboodle with care and accuracy. I had to return in two weeks, so this young woman could remove the suture she had placed on the top corner of my eye, and three weeks after that, I was eye-tested, and given the all-clear.

So the reader may ask why an eighty-one year old bloke is describing the tortuous route towards regaining full vision with the cataract operations. It is simply this: if you drive, you MUST, MUST, MUST, ensure that your vision meets the legal requirement for driving, you have to be able to read a vehicle number plate at 20 metres. (66 feet away). The DVLA requires that, if you cannot meet that standard, you remove yourself from driving, until an optometrist conducts the tests, and allows for corrective glasses, or indeed an operation, which will then allow you to drive safely.

Grandfather James Tassell would be alive today if “Reckless and foolish” Peter Gardner, 82, nearly the same age as myself, had such poor vision he “shouldn’t have been driving” when he “catapulted” James Tassell six feet into the air. His vision was so bad he could not make out a car licence plate three metres (9ft 10ins) away.

A court also heard the retired rail worker had recently been told by an optician he may be developing cataracts – but failed to arrange a follow-up appointment.

Memphis Belle: & The Cold Blue

Last night I watched a film. Although it was a fiction film, it successfully told the story of what is probably the most famous bomber in the world, a B-17 bomber named Memphis Belle, and her crew. The real reason for her fame is the simple fact that the ‘Belle’, along with her crew of ten, was immortalised as the first bomber and crew to survive 25 missions against Nazi Germany. I also own, and have watched once more just a few weeks ago, a very different story about the same war, the same aircraft, but with slightly different numbers; the numbers were over three hundred B-17s at a time, as the Eighth U.S.A.A.F. sent thousands of young American boys into battle, 25,000 feet in the air. That heroic effort was immortalised into a Documentary DVD named The Cold Blue. Parts of The Cold Blue featured film shot during combat missions by the director William Wyler and his cameraman team, sharing the cold, the dangers and sometimes the death which accompanied every raid. The ONLY disappointing thing to report on this moving tribute to true bravery is that the DVD is only available for REGION ONE.

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