Tuesday, 10 December 2013
Head in Hands...
As I realise what a passage of time has occurred since my last spate of good intentions re updating this blog and the lack of results generated by these resolutions.
In my defence, lots of things have been going on which anybody reading my Facebook page will acknowledge. But, I should be a better girl vis a vis the blog. So....
((throws another good intention on the pile and crosses fingers hehehe))
Friday, 2 September 2011
Letting off steam...
Gentle readers, forgive what is about to follow. Normally, and contrary to what you might think of me if you read this blog often, I am a sunny little soul. But there are a number of things making me splutter my morning coffee across the table at the moment, so I'm going to give vent to them here, rather than run the risk of going nuclear in public. Were this to happen, it is quite possible I would be banged up in the nearest looney bin... so just regard what follows as a bit of damage limitation hehe
I'm getting fed up with the building hysteria in the aftermath of the London riots. First off, we had the lentil-knitting PC brigade laying into magistrates for dishing out prison sentences or other punishments perceived as 'tough' to the convicted rioters. You can imagine how happy that made me... don't these people realise that it's now well beyond the point where we can be 'understanding' about people scampering around setting fire to things, looting etc?. Personally I think it's also the 'be nice to felons' camp's policies which have got us here in the first place, but that's a whole other topic for another time! In the meantime I just wish they'd shut up and leave the magistrates, most of whom have a lot more experience with criminals than they do, alone and let the poor overworked beggars get on with their job.
Secondly we suddenly have all these horrified comments about the age of some of the culprits? What planet are these people on? Take a walk around any town centre and you can see gangs of kids, who I for one think are quite little, walking around generally behaving in a questionable manner. Go to the same place at about 10pm (or even later) and they are STILL THERE, merrily depredating away. My only surprise about all this is that we haven't, to my knowledge anyway, had a 7 year old in the dock...
And now, which is what has set me off this morning, we have Nice Dave Cameron saying what these people are going to get is 'tough love'. WHO does he think is going to believe that nonsense? Especially when, as above, magistrates are already copping the flak for trying to get tough? We've heard it all before from politicians - the trouble is the lentil-knitters have embedded their PC, tree-hugging attitudes so firmly into the legislative and cognitive life of the nation that anybody trying to sort out this mess is doomed from the word go. Not least because the naughty criminals are not stupid and know how to play the system: in an environment when the government can be forced to give felons the vote because some muppet has had the savvy to take his 'case' to the European Court of Human Rights, does Dave seriously imagine he's going to be able to do ANYTHING which might just be effective without somebody following that lead? The sad fact is that Dave may talk the talk, but he'll be prevented from walking the walk. Sort THAT out first and we might stand a chance of getting to grips with this mess.
Another thing getting my goat recently is what I perceive as the growing number of (to use the lentil-knitting phrase) 'age-challenged' drivers driving really quite highly powered cars around at irritatingly low speeds. First observation: if you don't feel safe driving at more than 35 on a 60mph-limited road you probably shouldn't be driving in the first place. Second observation: if you really MUST come out and annoy everybody by driving at 35 on a 60mph-limited road do it in a car which can only command pity, not an S-type Jaguar or similar, because that's just an insult to the rest of us and comes under the heading of Royally Taking The Mick.
Lastly, for the moment anyway, we're about at the time where the kids go back to school and we see an increasing number of moans about having to negotiate the 'school run' etc etc appearing in the social media. Speaking as a home-educating parent, I don't have to deal with that sort of thing, but I would comment that the same people are moaning their heads off at the START of the holidays about 'the kids being home all the time'. Make your minds up, guys - either you wanted children, with all the disruption to your neat little lives that they entail, in which case accept the disruption and STOP MOANING about it. Or you didn't want children, but somehow ended up with them: in which case, tough. There are a lot worse things in life to deal with than the school run or school holidays, presumably you made the decision, despite not wanting children, to live with them, so just live with the choices you've made and STOP MOANING about it. There are plenty of couples out there who would live to have children but can't - count your blessings instead of making them into a problem.
On a more positive note... it's good to see that my observations on caravan names (April 2009) still hold true, even with a few new ones appearing in recent months. 'Spotting the Caravan Category' has turned into an Angevin Family game now, when we're out and about, and you can often hear us merrily debating this point - 'Oh look it's a 2!' 'No, it isn't, it's a 3a' etc etc . Caravan manufacturers take note!!
I'm getting fed up with the building hysteria in the aftermath of the London riots. First off, we had the lentil-knitting PC brigade laying into magistrates for dishing out prison sentences or other punishments perceived as 'tough' to the convicted rioters. You can imagine how happy that made me... don't these people realise that it's now well beyond the point where we can be 'understanding' about people scampering around setting fire to things, looting etc?. Personally I think it's also the 'be nice to felons' camp's policies which have got us here in the first place, but that's a whole other topic for another time! In the meantime I just wish they'd shut up and leave the magistrates, most of whom have a lot more experience with criminals than they do, alone and let the poor overworked beggars get on with their job.
Secondly we suddenly have all these horrified comments about the age of some of the culprits? What planet are these people on? Take a walk around any town centre and you can see gangs of kids, who I for one think are quite little, walking around generally behaving in a questionable manner. Go to the same place at about 10pm (or even later) and they are STILL THERE, merrily depredating away. My only surprise about all this is that we haven't, to my knowledge anyway, had a 7 year old in the dock...
And now, which is what has set me off this morning, we have Nice Dave Cameron saying what these people are going to get is 'tough love'. WHO does he think is going to believe that nonsense? Especially when, as above, magistrates are already copping the flak for trying to get tough? We've heard it all before from politicians - the trouble is the lentil-knitters have embedded their PC, tree-hugging attitudes so firmly into the legislative and cognitive life of the nation that anybody trying to sort out this mess is doomed from the word go. Not least because the naughty criminals are not stupid and know how to play the system: in an environment when the government can be forced to give felons the vote because some muppet has had the savvy to take his 'case' to the European Court of Human Rights, does Dave seriously imagine he's going to be able to do ANYTHING which might just be effective without somebody following that lead? The sad fact is that Dave may talk the talk, but he'll be prevented from walking the walk. Sort THAT out first and we might stand a chance of getting to grips with this mess.
Another thing getting my goat recently is what I perceive as the growing number of (to use the lentil-knitting phrase) 'age-challenged' drivers driving really quite highly powered cars around at irritatingly low speeds. First observation: if you don't feel safe driving at more than 35 on a 60mph-limited road you probably shouldn't be driving in the first place. Second observation: if you really MUST come out and annoy everybody by driving at 35 on a 60mph-limited road do it in a car which can only command pity, not an S-type Jaguar or similar, because that's just an insult to the rest of us and comes under the heading of Royally Taking The Mick.
Lastly, for the moment anyway, we're about at the time where the kids go back to school and we see an increasing number of moans about having to negotiate the 'school run' etc etc appearing in the social media. Speaking as a home-educating parent, I don't have to deal with that sort of thing, but I would comment that the same people are moaning their heads off at the START of the holidays about 'the kids being home all the time'. Make your minds up, guys - either you wanted children, with all the disruption to your neat little lives that they entail, in which case accept the disruption and STOP MOANING about it. Or you didn't want children, but somehow ended up with them: in which case, tough. There are a lot worse things in life to deal with than the school run or school holidays, presumably you made the decision, despite not wanting children, to live with them, so just live with the choices you've made and STOP MOANING about it. There are plenty of couples out there who would live to have children but can't - count your blessings instead of making them into a problem.
On a more positive note... it's good to see that my observations on caravan names (April 2009) still hold true, even with a few new ones appearing in recent months. 'Spotting the Caravan Category' has turned into an Angevin Family game now, when we're out and about, and you can often hear us merrily debating this point - 'Oh look it's a 2!' 'No, it isn't, it's a 3a' etc etc . Caravan manufacturers take note!!
Monday, 29 August 2011
Come on Irene..
.. and yes I know that SHOULD be 'Eileen' before all you 80's pop-lovers start contacting me...
Those who know me will not be surprised I am utterly sick of listening to media bleating about Hurricane Irene hitting New York and environs. Whilst I feel very sorry for people who have lost their houses, or who are enduring some difficult days (remember, I was flooded myself in 2007 so I know just how miserable it is) I am surprised nobody has pointed out that the reason the US is so vulnerable to power cuts during extreme weather is because they habitually run their power cables on poles above ground. High winds, lots of snow or anything else making trees fall over and we have a serious problem, Houston... (or Manhattan in this case). So, my US buddies, start taking the sensible but expensive option of burying your cables and then I might take your hardships slightly more seriously.
I might also, rather piously I know, point out that whatever it is you are enduring for a few days is AS NOTHING to the situation literally millions are going through owing to the drought in Africa. You can always stick your poles up again and get back to normal - for people whose crops and animals have died and whose rivers have dried up, the options ain't that simple. So put it in perspective, huh??
Those who know me will not be surprised I am utterly sick of listening to media bleating about Hurricane Irene hitting New York and environs. Whilst I feel very sorry for people who have lost their houses, or who are enduring some difficult days (remember, I was flooded myself in 2007 so I know just how miserable it is) I am surprised nobody has pointed out that the reason the US is so vulnerable to power cuts during extreme weather is because they habitually run their power cables on poles above ground. High winds, lots of snow or anything else making trees fall over and we have a serious problem, Houston... (or Manhattan in this case). So, my US buddies, start taking the sensible but expensive option of burying your cables and then I might take your hardships slightly more seriously.
I might also, rather piously I know, point out that whatever it is you are enduring for a few days is AS NOTHING to the situation literally millions are going through owing to the drought in Africa. You can always stick your poles up again and get back to normal - for people whose crops and animals have died and whose rivers have dried up, the options ain't that simple. So put it in perspective, huh??
Wednesday, 8 June 2011
Culture clash
You've got to laugh really...
Reading the BBC News page this morning I came across this:
The reality of Paris does not always live up to the dream. A dozen or so Japanese tourists a year have to be repatriated from the French capital, after falling prey to what's become known as "Paris syndrome". That is what some polite Japanese tourists suffer when they discover that Parisians can be rude or the city does not meet their expectations. The experience can apparently be too stressful for some and they suffer a psychiatric breakdown. Around a million Japanese travel to France every year.
Many of the visitors come with a deeply romantic vision of Paris - the cobbled streets, as seen in the film Amelie, the beauty of French women or the high culture and art at the Louvre. The reality can come as a shock. An encounter with a rude taxi driver, or a Parisian waiter who shouts at customers who cannot speak fluent French, might be laughed off by those from other Western cultures. But for the Japanese - used to a more polite and helpful society in which voices are rarely raised in anger - the experience of their dream city turning into a nightmare can simply be too much. This year alone, the Japanese embassy in Paris has had to repatriate four people with a doctor or nurse on board the plane to help them get over the shock. They were suffering from "Paris syndrome".
It was a Japanese psychiatrist working in France, Professor Hiroaki Ota, who first identified the syndrome some 20 years ago. On average, up to 12 Japanese tourists a year fall victim to it, mainly women in their 30s with high expectations of what may be their first trip abroad. The Japanese embassy has a 24-hour hotline for those suffering from severe culture shock, and can help find hospital treatment for anyone in need. However, the only permanent cure is to go back to Japan - never to return to Paris.
Now, the rudeness of the Parisians is legendary - from my experiences in Burgundy I can confirm that a lot of the time my family have been made more welcome than the average Parisian because even the rest of France can't handle their arrogance. It says it all that the recent change in the format of car number plates in France was largely put in place to make Parisian cars less easily indentifiable because they were apparently being vandalised when they ventured out of the capital. So, come the Angevin Revolution, the entire city is going to be sent to an upper-class British Charm School for a thorough lesson in Good Manners (where, hopefully, they will also be taught to clear up the dog-poo littered pavements which is the first thing which comes to mind whenever Paris is mentioned...). BUT... if that makes my gentle readers think I have any sympathy for the Japanese they couldn't be more wrong.
I was at Oxford for my post-grad and I needn't tell anybody with even a passing familiarity with the place what a royal pain in the bum the Japanese tourists are. They are quite happy to bang on about respect when it suits THEM, or indeed when you visit their country, but you don't hear much about it when they're scampering all over the place trying to find the best angles for their interminable souvenir photographs. Summertime was positive torture - air conditioning being virtually unknown in most colleges, to get any sort of relief from the heat you had to open your windows. OK if you're on the first or second floors, but if your room was at ground level this was viewed by the Japanese as a golden opportunity. I can't count the number of times I was minding my own business in the MCR, reading the papers and having a swift coffee, only to discover one of the little pests had shoved their camera in the open window and were merrily snapping away. That wasn't the worst of it - as some of the showers were half-underground at my college, and therefore had small windows at ground-level, I have also been snapped whilst at my ablutions. And yes, as a result I have unbounded sympathy for incarcerated animals in zoos, because that is how it felt. It was absolutely pointless putting up 'No Entry' signs if there was an private area - in fact these almost had the opposite effect, one might as well have erected a 'Come and look at this very special thing with your ten cameras, why don't you?' poster instead, such was the total disregard for the quality of life of anybody actually living in Oxford. Where's the respect there, my little Nipponese pals, huh??
So, in short, I think BOTH the Parisians and the Japanese, for varying reasons, need to have a kick up the jacksi. Unfortunately I can't see that happening any time soon...
Reading the BBC News page this morning I came across this:
The reality of Paris does not always live up to the dream. A dozen or so Japanese tourists a year have to be repatriated from the French capital, after falling prey to what's become known as "Paris syndrome". That is what some polite Japanese tourists suffer when they discover that Parisians can be rude or the city does not meet their expectations. The experience can apparently be too stressful for some and they suffer a psychiatric breakdown. Around a million Japanese travel to France every year.
Many of the visitors come with a deeply romantic vision of Paris - the cobbled streets, as seen in the film Amelie, the beauty of French women or the high culture and art at the Louvre. The reality can come as a shock. An encounter with a rude taxi driver, or a Parisian waiter who shouts at customers who cannot speak fluent French, might be laughed off by those from other Western cultures. But for the Japanese - used to a more polite and helpful society in which voices are rarely raised in anger - the experience of their dream city turning into a nightmare can simply be too much. This year alone, the Japanese embassy in Paris has had to repatriate four people with a doctor or nurse on board the plane to help them get over the shock. They were suffering from "Paris syndrome".
It was a Japanese psychiatrist working in France, Professor Hiroaki Ota, who first identified the syndrome some 20 years ago. On average, up to 12 Japanese tourists a year fall victim to it, mainly women in their 30s with high expectations of what may be their first trip abroad. The Japanese embassy has a 24-hour hotline for those suffering from severe culture shock, and can help find hospital treatment for anyone in need. However, the only permanent cure is to go back to Japan - never to return to Paris.
Now, the rudeness of the Parisians is legendary - from my experiences in Burgundy I can confirm that a lot of the time my family have been made more welcome than the average Parisian because even the rest of France can't handle their arrogance. It says it all that the recent change in the format of car number plates in France was largely put in place to make Parisian cars less easily indentifiable because they were apparently being vandalised when they ventured out of the capital. So, come the Angevin Revolution, the entire city is going to be sent to an upper-class British Charm School for a thorough lesson in Good Manners (where, hopefully, they will also be taught to clear up the dog-poo littered pavements which is the first thing which comes to mind whenever Paris is mentioned...). BUT... if that makes my gentle readers think I have any sympathy for the Japanese they couldn't be more wrong.
I was at Oxford for my post-grad and I needn't tell anybody with even a passing familiarity with the place what a royal pain in the bum the Japanese tourists are. They are quite happy to bang on about respect when it suits THEM, or indeed when you visit their country, but you don't hear much about it when they're scampering all over the place trying to find the best angles for their interminable souvenir photographs. Summertime was positive torture - air conditioning being virtually unknown in most colleges, to get any sort of relief from the heat you had to open your windows. OK if you're on the first or second floors, but if your room was at ground level this was viewed by the Japanese as a golden opportunity. I can't count the number of times I was minding my own business in the MCR, reading the papers and having a swift coffee, only to discover one of the little pests had shoved their camera in the open window and were merrily snapping away. That wasn't the worst of it - as some of the showers were half-underground at my college, and therefore had small windows at ground-level, I have also been snapped whilst at my ablutions. And yes, as a result I have unbounded sympathy for incarcerated animals in zoos, because that is how it felt. It was absolutely pointless putting up 'No Entry' signs if there was an private area - in fact these almost had the opposite effect, one might as well have erected a 'Come and look at this very special thing with your ten cameras, why don't you?' poster instead, such was the total disregard for the quality of life of anybody actually living in Oxford. Where's the respect there, my little Nipponese pals, huh??
So, in short, I think BOTH the Parisians and the Japanese, for varying reasons, need to have a kick up the jacksi. Unfortunately I can't see that happening any time soon...
Sunday, 5 June 2011
OK, this time I really DO have an excuse...
... because things have been a bit busy at Chateau Angevin!
It's a bit of a long story (what isn't with me?!) but, fingers crossed and touching every piece of wood I can find, it looks as though La Famille Angevin will be living pretty much full time in France from this autumn as we are trying to buy this truly brilliant, wonderful and generally fabulous property.
The reasons for this are, in short:
1. Troll is out of the UK for at least 9 months of the year and has been officially resident in France for years, France having a fully reciprocal arrangement with the country where he works most of the time. Despite all this, the thieving monkeys at HM Customs and Excise sent him a nasty letter last year querying his tax status. Troll's accountant sent a strong response back, and they seem to have gone away... but I have a suspicion they will be back...
So... when this property, which is only about 10 miles from our existing house in Burgundy came up, it looked like a message that we should bite the bullet and get out of the UK now, when we can do it OUR way, rather than wait to be pushed.
2. The grasping monkeys at New College, Oxford, who retained the barn immediately opposite the house I have been renovating for the last 13 years when they sold said house to me, are once again making noises that they want to develop said barn into a residential property. Now, in principal, I don't have a problem with this - I don't mind people living there. However, you only get one crack at a project like that and I just KNOW it will be done badly, with the only consideration being to the financial bottom line rather than to a real love of the building. Which will leave me looking at the cocked-up, aesthetically unpleasing result forever.
The fact this happened to the last house I lavished seven or so years of love upon prior to moving here leaves me little short of despair. At least the place we hope to buy in France has literally miles of open land in front of it which cannot be built upon.
3. I am increasingly distressed by the state the UK is in. Not just the economy, which frankly, we've all seen before and sent the T-shirt to Oxfam, but by the general downtrend I see in the PEOPLE. Everybody seems to be running around at breakneck speed for the best part of every day, with no time for very much other than scraping shekels together or being rude and obnoxious to everybody around them. Nobody has any time for anything I consider worthwhile any more.. and I can't see that situation getting better any time soon, frankly. I've come to the somewhat depressing conclusion that the UK I loved and cared about hasn't existed for 40 years or more... and I don't want to be part of what it's become.
So... the fact we are having to do a fair amount of work on the two houses we have in Burgundy already (because we have to sell them to form the deposit on our new place) wade through the 13 years or so of crap which has accumulated at Chateau Angevin and pack up what isn't being skipped, deal with agents in France both regarding the sale and purchase of everything, find a tenant for Chateau Angevin, get the various animals chipped, jabbed and generally certified for removal over the Channel and probably a million other things I can't be bothered to type about means I haven't been able to blog very much - my rant organ has been totally exhausted in Real Life...
I will attempt to keep you all posted, however...!
Monday, 21 February 2011
Tranatlantic Craziness
I hear from a (British) FB buddy of mine that "apparently, the wise lawgivers of Texas are legislating to allow the carrying of guns on campus. Students, professors, tourists, the lot!" As Troll works with Texans and I therefore am treated to endless tales of their outlook on life, this doesn't entirely surprise me, and I may in fact be tempted to open a book on when the first campus massacre is going to take place in the Lone Star State following this latest bit of gun-craziness...
Whenever I try to discuss the subject of guns with American friends you can see their eyes glazing over as they believe they're about to get another lecture from another gun-hating Brit. This isn't entirely fair - I'm broadly in favour of guns if they're used as a means to getting cute fluffy animals or helpless little birdies one step closer to my Aga and therefore my stomach. Being farmers, most of my family had/have guns for precisely this purpose (and of course the odd bout of rat-shooting if the dogs/cats haven't kept up with the growth of the rodent population). What my family DON'T have lying around are automatic weapons, and to be frank I don't really see why ANYBODY needs to keep these items in the normal domestic setting: if you want to use the things, go to a range or gun club which can store them safely. And presumably have procedures in place to prevent your random nutter going on a spree...
The Americans obviously don't agree: for some peculiar reason even the most intelligent of my Yankee pals thinks it's perfectly reasonable to allow people to have any type of gun they fancy lying around the place; even if the said weapon is capable of replicating a scene from Vietnam in one little touch of the trigger. I used to argue the point with them, but time and experience has taught me I'm wasting my breath; these days I merely let them get on with it and indulge in a volley of 'I told you so' emails whenever the latest maniac goes on a rampage with his M1911.
It is true to say we aren't entirely rampage-free in the UK - look at the situation in Cumbria last year when Derrick Bird killed 12 and injured 11 with his shotguns. My response to that would be that the carnage would have been so much greater if he'd had the sort of access to automatic weapons which is 'enjoyed' as a matter of course in the States. In addition I'd draw attention to the fact that whenever incidents of this nature do occur in the UK they are so rare they are remembered for many years afterwards - Dunblane (which resulted in much tighter controls on handguns being put in place) was in 1996 and is still often mentioned whenever discussions on gun law occur. Hungerford in 1987 - coming up to 25 years ago - is still very much in the public mind. Can Americans honestly say the same, when there are so many more gun-related tragedies happening in the US?
It's a mystery to me. Why do otherwise intelligent, thinking, people have such a blind spot on this issue? Because blind spot it is... an earlier post from an American friend of mind on FB in connection with the shooting of the Arizona congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords in January 2011 read thus:
"A friend posted this: "A fitting tribute to Dr. King: 'Last week we saw a white Catholic male Republican judge murdered on his way to greet a Democratic Jewish woman member of Congress, who was his friend. Her life was saved initially by a 20-year-old Mexican-American gay college student, and eventually by a Korean American combat surgeon, and this all was eulogized by our African American President."
I refrained from comment - uncharacteristically - but my actual thoughts were 'This is all very nice and lovely, but does it not occur to you people that the incident probably wouldn't have happened at all if you had effective gun controls and couldn't buy your ammunition from Walmart along with your weekly groceries?'. Not ONE person made anything like that connection in the comments following my friend's posting, rather it was all a load of congratulatory back-slapping on what a jolly-lovely-integrated-harmonious place America is.
I've quoted the film The American President before in this blog, but it bravely (and almost uniquely in my knowledge of film) makes the point that US citizens do not 'connect gun crime with the possession of guns'. And judging by the events in Texas they aren't going to any time soon... anybody care to take a punt on my book regarding the timing of the next Texan campus massacre??
Whenever I try to discuss the subject of guns with American friends you can see their eyes glazing over as they believe they're about to get another lecture from another gun-hating Brit. This isn't entirely fair - I'm broadly in favour of guns if they're used as a means to getting cute fluffy animals or helpless little birdies one step closer to my Aga and therefore my stomach. Being farmers, most of my family had/have guns for precisely this purpose (and of course the odd bout of rat-shooting if the dogs/cats haven't kept up with the growth of the rodent population). What my family DON'T have lying around are automatic weapons, and to be frank I don't really see why ANYBODY needs to keep these items in the normal domestic setting: if you want to use the things, go to a range or gun club which can store them safely. And presumably have procedures in place to prevent your random nutter going on a spree...
The Americans obviously don't agree: for some peculiar reason even the most intelligent of my Yankee pals thinks it's perfectly reasonable to allow people to have any type of gun they fancy lying around the place; even if the said weapon is capable of replicating a scene from Vietnam in one little touch of the trigger. I used to argue the point with them, but time and experience has taught me I'm wasting my breath; these days I merely let them get on with it and indulge in a volley of 'I told you so' emails whenever the latest maniac goes on a rampage with his M1911.
It is true to say we aren't entirely rampage-free in the UK - look at the situation in Cumbria last year when Derrick Bird killed 12 and injured 11 with his shotguns. My response to that would be that the carnage would have been so much greater if he'd had the sort of access to automatic weapons which is 'enjoyed' as a matter of course in the States. In addition I'd draw attention to the fact that whenever incidents of this nature do occur in the UK they are so rare they are remembered for many years afterwards - Dunblane (which resulted in much tighter controls on handguns being put in place) was in 1996 and is still often mentioned whenever discussions on gun law occur. Hungerford in 1987 - coming up to 25 years ago - is still very much in the public mind. Can Americans honestly say the same, when there are so many more gun-related tragedies happening in the US?
It's a mystery to me. Why do otherwise intelligent, thinking, people have such a blind spot on this issue? Because blind spot it is... an earlier post from an American friend of mind on FB in connection with the shooting of the Arizona congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords in January 2011 read thus:
"A friend posted this: "A fitting tribute to Dr. King: 'Last week we saw a white Catholic male Republican judge murdered on his way to greet a Democratic Jewish woman member of Congress, who was his friend. Her life was saved initially by a 20-year-old Mexican-American gay college student, and eventually by a Korean American combat surgeon, and this all was eulogized by our African American President."
I refrained from comment - uncharacteristically - but my actual thoughts were 'This is all very nice and lovely, but does it not occur to you people that the incident probably wouldn't have happened at all if you had effective gun controls and couldn't buy your ammunition from Walmart along with your weekly groceries?'. Not ONE person made anything like that connection in the comments following my friend's posting, rather it was all a load of congratulatory back-slapping on what a jolly-lovely-integrated-harmonious place America is.
I've quoted the film The American President before in this blog, but it bravely (and almost uniquely in my knowledge of film) makes the point that US citizens do not 'connect gun crime with the possession of guns'. And judging by the events in Texas they aren't going to any time soon... anybody care to take a punt on my book regarding the timing of the next Texan campus massacre??
Sunday, 20 February 2011
Just a quickie..
... to say I'm back. Ranting has not ceased at Chateau Angevin during my absence from this blog, just the time available to type about it has. Also Facebook is a rather quicker method. Just so I don't disappoint my erstwhile readers, a (mercifully brief) observation on one current topic...
There has been a lot of handwringing and bleeding-heart-bleating about the fact the European Court of Human Rights has told Britain we can't deny our banged-up prisoners the vote. I'll let my gentle readers imagine what I SAY, in person, on that particular topic, but take the expletives and bombast out for the purposes of this blog and the remaining thrust of my argument is simply that it seems the epitome of common sense to state that people who pay scant attention to the rule of law can't reasonably expect to have a say in electing those who formulate those laws. However, much as I can see the attraction in Cameron and Clegg sticking two fingers up at Brussels in a sort of Gieves-suited-rerun of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, I can also see that Euro-politicos have long memories - we'd probably suffer in the long run when there was something WE wanted out of THEM. That's the way the Euro-cookie crumbles, unfortunately, and there are plenty around who still would love to stick the knife in to the UK as a reprisal for Reichsführer Thatcher's antics in the 80's...
So... my suggestion to get Cameron and Clegg out of the Euro-Alamo is that we sit our little miscreants down on their first day in the slammer and ask them to make a straight choice; namely TV or the vote. Let's see how much the francise means to them when it's up against losing Eastenders, X-Factor and Britain's Got Talent (sic) for the duration of their sentence...
This ruse also has a few added-value aspects -
1. We are treating prisoners like adults and asking THEM to make a choice, rather than imposing our naughty paternalistic will on them. Which is a good thing, yes??
2. The magic buzz-word CHOICE is in there. The last 20 years we have been bombarded with this as our legislators keep hitting the 'giving more choice to ordinary people is a fabulous idea' button in a mistaken impression it makes their crazy expensive schemes more attractive. For once, put 'giving people a choice' to GOOD use...
3. It potentially gives the do-gooding-lentil-knitting mob something to occupy themselves - ie. they can develop programmes to attempt to educate prisoners about the franchise and its importance in an (almost certainly vain) attempt to persuade them to resist the siren call of Rupert Murdoch and his evil empire...and thus gets the irritating, smug, sanctimonious buggers off everybody else's backs for a bit.
Finally. Somebody really needs to point out to the Eurocrats that only 65% of the entire UK population bothered to turn out to vote in the 2010 election - and that was UP on the previous two and at a time when arguably more was at stake for the country at any time since WWII. Why on earth they imagine your average convicted villain gives a tinker's cuss about voting is beyond me; but unfortunately now they have pointed out the little darlings' human rights have been infringed I suspect ALL of the latter will spot the opportunity for state-funded compensation. Ta very much, Europe: I hope we'll remember this cock-up the next time we have to listen to all your excuses when it transpires you've waived hordes of economic migrants through your borders so they can turn up at Calais and be OUR problem. Much as I love the idea of Europe generally, it's the same with any club - it only works if ALL the members abide by the rules... and if the rest of Europe want the UK to be good boys and girls it's about time they set us an example...
There has been a lot of handwringing and bleeding-heart-bleating about the fact the European Court of Human Rights has told Britain we can't deny our banged-up prisoners the vote. I'll let my gentle readers imagine what I SAY, in person, on that particular topic, but take the expletives and bombast out for the purposes of this blog and the remaining thrust of my argument is simply that it seems the epitome of common sense to state that people who pay scant attention to the rule of law can't reasonably expect to have a say in electing those who formulate those laws. However, much as I can see the attraction in Cameron and Clegg sticking two fingers up at Brussels in a sort of Gieves-suited-rerun of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, I can also see that Euro-politicos have long memories - we'd probably suffer in the long run when there was something WE wanted out of THEM. That's the way the Euro-cookie crumbles, unfortunately, and there are plenty around who still would love to stick the knife in to the UK as a reprisal for Reichsführer Thatcher's antics in the 80's...
So... my suggestion to get Cameron and Clegg out of the Euro-Alamo is that we sit our little miscreants down on their first day in the slammer and ask them to make a straight choice; namely TV or the vote. Let's see how much the francise means to them when it's up against losing Eastenders, X-Factor and Britain's Got Talent (sic) for the duration of their sentence...
This ruse also has a few added-value aspects -
1. We are treating prisoners like adults and asking THEM to make a choice, rather than imposing our naughty paternalistic will on them. Which is a good thing, yes??
2. The magic buzz-word CHOICE is in there. The last 20 years we have been bombarded with this as our legislators keep hitting the 'giving more choice to ordinary people is a fabulous idea' button in a mistaken impression it makes their crazy expensive schemes more attractive. For once, put 'giving people a choice' to GOOD use...
3. It potentially gives the do-gooding-lentil-knitting mob something to occupy themselves - ie. they can develop programmes to attempt to educate prisoners about the franchise and its importance in an (almost certainly vain) attempt to persuade them to resist the siren call of Rupert Murdoch and his evil empire...and thus gets the irritating, smug, sanctimonious buggers off everybody else's backs for a bit.
Finally. Somebody really needs to point out to the Eurocrats that only 65% of the entire UK population bothered to turn out to vote in the 2010 election - and that was UP on the previous two and at a time when arguably more was at stake for the country at any time since WWII. Why on earth they imagine your average convicted villain gives a tinker's cuss about voting is beyond me; but unfortunately now they have pointed out the little darlings' human rights have been infringed I suspect ALL of the latter will spot the opportunity for state-funded compensation. Ta very much, Europe: I hope we'll remember this cock-up the next time we have to listen to all your excuses when it transpires you've waived hordes of economic migrants through your borders so they can turn up at Calais and be OUR problem. Much as I love the idea of Europe generally, it's the same with any club - it only works if ALL the members abide by the rules... and if the rest of Europe want the UK to be good boys and girls it's about time they set us an example...
Thursday, 9 September 2010
Head in hands...
... as I realised a huge number of months have flowed under the bridge of time since I last put fingers to keyboard and tormented you all with my rants and observations... Sorry guys.
NO excuses - to quote my grandmother 'Never apologise, never explain' - but merely a promise I'll try to do better. If any of my old teachers are reading this, please try to suspend your disbelief - leopards CAN change their spots, honest.
NO excuses - to quote my grandmother 'Never apologise, never explain' - but merely a promise I'll try to do better. If any of my old teachers are reading this, please try to suspend your disbelief - leopards CAN change their spots, honest.
Thursday, 26 November 2009
A load of old...
...rubbish.
Every two weeks on those Thursday nights when Troll is cosily holed up in the AAMC (where, naturally, Real Life does not intrude) a casual observer may be forgiven for thinking Chateau Angevin is the venue for a meeting of the Invent An Original Swear Word Convention. For once, this is not due to my having found something on the BBC News Website to offend my delicate sensibilities but because it is, horror of horrors, Bin Night.
I loathe taking the bins out. I loathe the fact I have to wheel the bins 100 yards down my drive because the idle binmen won't drive up into my yard to collect them (note, however, this does not stop various men in white vans using my yard as a turning circle several times a week - subject for another blog there sometime methinks). I loathe the necessity of removing the full bin bag from my kitchen bin into the large dark grey dumpster type bin the local council so thoughtfully provide. I loathe anything to do with bins in fact - their lack of aesthetic appeal, their smell and even those naff products you can buy which claim to get rid of the latter. BUT most of all I absolutely loathe, detest and revile the fact that the local council imposed a TWO WEEKLY cycle of collections on us.
Yes, gentle non-UK readers, you read that correctly. In this so-called First World civilised country in which I reside my rubbish is now only collected every two weeks, a fact which makes me virtually froth at the mouth. We are told this is because if we organise ourselves correctly, and separate out our rubbish into the correct receptacles helpfully provided by the council we should only NEED our rubbish collecting fortnightly - an outright lie which merely reinforces my belief that outside Chateau Angevin people live off ready meals and junkfood. For example, the little green bin we are given for food waste, which the council assure us will be composted once they collect it, is only about a cubic foot square. WHO ARE THEY KIDDING? I can almost fill that space with vegetable peelings from ONE MEAL, God alone knows what I'd do if I actually used the flipping thing for real rather than flinging my peelings on my own compost heap (oh no, you aren't getting any help from me, District Council in your cunning scheme to collect scraps free from people and then get them to pay you good money for it when it's been composted... I'm not that daft, thank you very much). I could go on about the inappropriate features of the various other receptacles we have been given for the various other forms of waste we produce but you get the picture...
I am angry and resentful NOW about this situation - I will leave you all to imagine just how incandescent I'm going to be if the Council carry out their threat of microchipping the bins to check we are all being good boys and girls and not putting anything we shouldn't in there - and merely make the point this is meant to be BRITAIN in 2009, not East Germany circa 1980 with the Stazi in control of rubbish collection.
I would also make the point that so far nobody at the Council has been able to adequately explain to me why Malta, one of the poorest countries in the EU with a population of half a million or so, manages to have DAILY rubbish collections whereas us Brits can only manage a piss-poor fortnightly one. Answers on a postcard please, readers....
Every two weeks on those Thursday nights when Troll is cosily holed up in the AAMC (where, naturally, Real Life does not intrude) a casual observer may be forgiven for thinking Chateau Angevin is the venue for a meeting of the Invent An Original Swear Word Convention. For once, this is not due to my having found something on the BBC News Website to offend my delicate sensibilities but because it is, horror of horrors, Bin Night.
I loathe taking the bins out. I loathe the fact I have to wheel the bins 100 yards down my drive because the idle binmen won't drive up into my yard to collect them (note, however, this does not stop various men in white vans using my yard as a turning circle several times a week - subject for another blog there sometime methinks). I loathe the necessity of removing the full bin bag from my kitchen bin into the large dark grey dumpster type bin the local council so thoughtfully provide. I loathe anything to do with bins in fact - their lack of aesthetic appeal, their smell and even those naff products you can buy which claim to get rid of the latter. BUT most of all I absolutely loathe, detest and revile the fact that the local council imposed a TWO WEEKLY cycle of collections on us.
Yes, gentle non-UK readers, you read that correctly. In this so-called First World civilised country in which I reside my rubbish is now only collected every two weeks, a fact which makes me virtually froth at the mouth. We are told this is because if we organise ourselves correctly, and separate out our rubbish into the correct receptacles helpfully provided by the council we should only NEED our rubbish collecting fortnightly - an outright lie which merely reinforces my belief that outside Chateau Angevin people live off ready meals and junkfood. For example, the little green bin we are given for food waste, which the council assure us will be composted once they collect it, is only about a cubic foot square. WHO ARE THEY KIDDING? I can almost fill that space with vegetable peelings from ONE MEAL, God alone knows what I'd do if I actually used the flipping thing for real rather than flinging my peelings on my own compost heap (oh no, you aren't getting any help from me, District Council in your cunning scheme to collect scraps free from people and then get them to pay you good money for it when it's been composted... I'm not that daft, thank you very much). I could go on about the inappropriate features of the various other receptacles we have been given for the various other forms of waste we produce but you get the picture...
I am angry and resentful NOW about this situation - I will leave you all to imagine just how incandescent I'm going to be if the Council carry out their threat of microchipping the bins to check we are all being good boys and girls and not putting anything we shouldn't in there - and merely make the point this is meant to be BRITAIN in 2009, not East Germany circa 1980 with the Stazi in control of rubbish collection.
I would also make the point that so far nobody at the Council has been able to adequately explain to me why Malta, one of the poorest countries in the EU with a population of half a million or so, manages to have DAILY rubbish collections whereas us Brits can only manage a piss-poor fortnightly one. Answers on a postcard please, readers....
Monday, 9 November 2009
Remind me not to read the BBC News Website!
Because, ONCE AGAIN, I've found something which makes me so cross only the blessed relief of putting fingers to keyboard is going to get it out of my system.
The article today is built around the results of a survey conducted by the Welsh Tourist Board:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/wales/8349935.stm
The report starts off with the phrase "Wales is "slightly old-fashioned" and the Welsh are "not friendly" in the minds of some potential visitors to the country, research has found." Those who know me in real life will probably be able to accurately assess the explosion which that would have generated at Chateau Angevin; suffice it to say it was not a pretty sight. Reading a bit further into the report it seems that - surprise surprise - what's actually caused the problem here is the English characteristically objecting to the use of the Welsh language. (Note, the Irish didn't have a problem with it and actually thought it was a good thing).
To me, that says a whole lot more about English insecurity than it does supposed Welsh unfriendliness. I am sick to the back teeth of hearing tales of visiting a shop where the other shoppers 'spoke in Welsh so I didn't understand them' - what the hell makes these people think the Welsh were speaking English beforehand and changed to Welsh just to be nasty to them? Does it never cross their bigoted little minds the likelihood is, especially in the North or West Wales, the other shoppers were indeed speaking Welsh before the grand entrance of the English Tourist and merely carried on their conversations? Oh, silly me, of course it wouldn't; everybody should speak English, now, shouldn't they? After all, the English have done their best over the past 1,000 years or so to eradicate Welsh culture HOW DARE the naughty Welsh continue to have their own language and use it??
If I am quite honest, in some ways I can understand, if not condone a bit of linguistic exclusion versus the English, after all, it's only the Welsh getting a little of their own back. Welsh was banned as a teaching medium in schools from the C19th onwards and matters got quite humiliating and vicious as such things usually do. My grandfather used to often talk of the times he was hauled up in front of the whole school and a board put round his neck with 'Spoke Welsh' on it after a teacher had caught him speaking in Welsh to his peers; and of the times he was slippered for continuing to do so. His only comfort was that oft as not his brothers and sister were up there too, along with a fair few other children from his village - can you just imagine the outcry now if a teacher took part in institutional humiliation of this nature and made a child wear a board with 'Spoke Urdu' or similar scrawled on it? We are talking about the early years of the C20th here, a time still just about in living memory, and it was only comparatively recently that discrimination against Welsh speakers was halted when the 1993 Welsh Language Act repealed a law, dating back to Henry VIII, which disqualified Welsh speakers from holding administrative office.
As aforementioned, I don't think it's RIGHT the English should be made to feel uncomfortable when they go on holiday to Wales, but on some levels it's understandable. Perhaps we should make as big a fuss about all the Welsh-English back history as the descendants of the slaves have done about the wrongs done to their ancestors (which, note, was considerably further in the past than 1993) - ask Gordon Brown to say 'Sorry' to us, shall we? Oh dear, Gordon Brown's SCOTTISH - and there's a whole other can of worms I'm not about to dive into today ... Anyway the chances of the English apologising are zero because apart from only letting their version of events be told in the first place, the teaching of history in English schools is close to non-existent (see blogs passim) as regards anything meaningful: Wales to them is a backward little place to be exploited for cheap labour, cheap holidays and cheap gags about sheep. Oh, and to be cursed when our little nation of 3m manage to put together a rugby team which can beat the English on a surprisingly frequent basis....
Which brings me to my next point - the other comment in this report which got me spluttering my tea across the kitchen was one person having the cheek to say 'I think Wales is almost like Birmingham's playground in a way, you can go mountain biking, beaches, you've got the walking..'. The words 'patronising', 'arrogant' and 'demeaning' come to mind - HOW DARE that person regard my country as a 'playground'? (My thoughts about Birmingham are pretty unprintable, suffice it to say 'playground' would not feature largely, although 'cesspool' might make an appearance).
And, pray, what is so wrong with being 'old-fashioned'? If that means being Welsh means having greater family ties, showing some respect to society and people around you, and being generally more full of the attributes whose passing is lamented almost daily when the English press comment on 'modern society', then I am more proud than ever of being Welsh. As one American visitor put it "I think the fact that Wales is slightly old-fashioned is one of its most endearing charms. It's a throwback to a simpler life with strong family values. I've been going to Wales every year for 15 years and have always found the Welsh people to be wonderfully warm and welcoming." So stuff that up your oh-so-modern-socially-dysfunctional bottoms, and leave us alone, dissatisfied English contributors to this survey: bugger off to Ayia Napa with your modern values and patronise the indigenous population there. There are 1.5 Americans who claim Welsh ancestry and that's a nice big pool for us to go fishing in with our tourist attractions, and I doubt they'd make so much fuss if they heard somebody speaking Welsh. They probably don't get so bladdered and tolerate their teenage girls having sex with every available local male whilst on holiday either.
Jonathan Jones of Visit Wales is quoted in this report as saying "What we have got to make sure is when tourists come here they are treated properly." True... but it makes no recognition of the fact that tourists should BEHAVE properly when they're in somebody else's country: ie. not call it a 'playground', wander around the mountains in blizzard conditions wearing jeans and trainers (and expecting the Mountain Rescue personnel to endanger themselves to save them) and treat the local people like lesser-evolved beings put on the planet to cater to their needs whatever they may be. Like it or not, the English have got an justifiably appalling reputation around the world for their holiday antics and perhaps some public money should be spent on attempting to put this right rather than wasting it on asking them what they think of Wales?
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Not quite sure where the end of October went
.. because, despite the date appearing on the top of this item, I'm actually putting fingers to keyboard on 3rd November and the last post I made on here was eons ago!. In truth, I did start to write a post on the specified date but for various reasons didn't get to finish it... so instead, I'll open November's batting with it - and hope my readership approve of my green attitude towards recycling hehe.
What I got worked up about this time was the fuss about the BBC's Question Time which included the leader of the BNP, Nick Griffin.
I'd like to state right now that I find this guy's (and his party's) political viewpoint absolutely abhorrent, and to give them credit, it came across loud and clear that everybody on the panel and most of the audience shares my opinion. What I found distressing was not his presence so much as it didn't seem to me that any of the representatives of the major political parties seemed able to see beyond their disgust for him and what he stands for and realise just what a dangerous person he is. I use that word very carefully, because I am very firmly of the opinion that he and his pals are a major threat and one which the more liberal political movements need to take very seriously indeed.
Packing the studio with people calculated to be on the opposing side to Mr Griffin, although understandable, was monumentally stupid and an act of cowardice on the part of the BBC, I would suggest, as all it did was play into the man's hands and hand him the opportunity to claim the exercise was a 'witchhunt' (which indeed he later, unsurprisingly, did). All we actually saw was everybody ganging up on Mr Griffin (rightly of course), but as a result I doubt whether anybody watching who might be tempted to support the man would have had their minds changed on the fundamentals - rather the opposite in fact. It would have been a substantially more interesting and valuable exercise if the Beeb had found a few more BNP members or general supporters to form some of the audience; then a reasonable and more even-handed debate might have ensued - which just might have exposed the BNP to be the repulsive organisation it in fact is. All we saw really, was evidence, as if any more were needed, that we DO NOT live in a country where free speech is tolerated - and if anybody is under any illusions about that just remember that if you make a statement which is judged to be inciting racial hatred you are liable for prosecution. In saying that I am not saying it is desireable that anybody DOES promote racial hatred, but rather that we cannot pretend we have free speech when we clearly do not and in some ways we might be a more healthy (and certainly less internationally hypocritical) society if we were more able to tolerate listening to views we find repugnant. See my comments further below on this one...
Part of my unease about the whole BNP/Nick Griffin shebang stems from the fact that if media representations are to be believed I know exactly what section of society Mr Griffin and his party colleagues are targeting, where their main support lies, and which buttons they are pressing to hit that target audience: I know, because I grew up amongst it. I am not talking about the skinhead, 'bovver boy' element traditionally associated with the BNP (or the National Front as it was known in those days), although admittedly there were a fair few of those around my neighbourhood when I was a child, but rather the largely honest, 'salt of the earth' working-class people who form the majority of the communities in which the BNP have had their successes lately.
Naturally, in discussing my youth, I am talking about the 1970s and 80s which, as anybody who has seen episodes of Life on Mars will know was culturally a rather different place: these days even 'ordinary people' - who from experience largely didn't (and still don't) raise an eyebrow at the casual racism and sexism back then - know there's a general feeling of unease if they start making too many unfavourable statements about coloured people, immigrants or 'stupid women'. However - and make no mistake about this - in private they still come out with viewpoints that would make Nick Griffin laugh all the way to Downing Street - AND HE KNOWS THIS which is probably why he was grinning like an ape at certain points this evening. I'm afraid the overwhelming impression I received from the rest of tonight's panel is that our mainstream politicians are delusional enough to believe that the majority of people in this country have swallowed the equality message wholesale and to be frank, this frightens the pants off me.
WHY they so obviously think this is beyond me; given that we now, to our shame, have two BNP MEPs and over a hundred councillors you think they would have twigged there is a problem and at least given some indication they mean to do something about it. Votes should after all, speak much louder than ever they or the repulsive Nick Griffin ever could. However, to me, they still seem hell bent on carrying on down the road which had created the environment where people feel so disillusioned with the mainstream political parties they feel there is no other choice than to vote BNP. To quote one of my favourite films - The American President - (which, by the way, isn't quite the lightweight chick-flik it might at first seem but does ask some fairly heavy questions amongst the Michael Douglas/Annette Bening generated froth) the way you get votes is to take people who are 'ordinary', who can perhaps remember with nostalgia better times, and then you scare the hell out of them so that they turn to whatever ideology you are peddling as an comforting alternative to the status quo. Nick Griffin and his foul party are past masters of this particular little ploy: they tell people that don't have a job or are on low wages, don't have adequate housing etc etc that the reason they are suffering is because the naughty government has let all the 'immigrants' in to take away the said jobs, money and houses from the honest hardworking British. Where have the BNP had the majority of their successes? - where there are large concentrations of minority groups and immigrant populations in working class areas.
The bottom line of all this is that I believe the political classes should wake up to the fact that the traditional 'working class' haven't changed their opinions very much in the last 40 or so years and they are still pretty bigoted when it comes down to issues of immigration and race. I would suggest the fact that for various reasons we've allowed the lentil-knitting mob to have their way and grab media attention with their over the top politically-correct initiatives has been the biggest factor ensuring the 'working classes' haven't been nudged into holding rather more tolerant views: because present your average blinkered working-class Brit with some of the off-the-scale garbage these people come out with almost guaranteed to result in blank incomprehension at best, and a stream of abusive invective at worst. Ultimately, and this is the uncomfortable fact a lot of people don't like facing, Brits, of whatever class, are generally inclined to be rather racist anyway; whether this is down to having been an imperial power in the not too distant past I wouldn't like to say, but in that sort of climate I'd argue shoving luvvie-generated material around willy-nilly in front of a largely pretty poorly-educated populace is calculated to merely generate ridicule rather than enlightenment and, more importantly, leave the door open for bigots such as Nick Griffin who are prepared to peddle a more superficially attractive ideology.
Whether Nick Griffin and his pals SHOULD be allowed to have their say is another matter which I touched on briefly above. I would argue that they indeed should - if only because by exposing their ideology to the light of open examination will it be shown up to be the nonsense it is. Make something secret, illicit or 'underground' and it initially becomes more attractive; that's human nature, unfortunately. Also, I'd like to believe we should be more inclined to free speech than we are; to again refer to The American President, the character Michael Douglas plays makes the point that we cannot just point to the flag, celebrate it, and say we are 'free' - we have to realise that real freedom is allowing people to revile and burn that flag if they so wish. Even if this means having to listen to views we find offensive or bigoted: such ideologies aren't going to just disappear if we merely deny people the right to voice them.
Unfortunately I don't have a suggestion as regards what we can DO about all this; again as in many of my rants, I would suggest the underlying problem is down to the lack of an enlightened, but realistic, educational philosophy in the UK. Solve that one, and we just might find a few other things are a lot easier to handle... in the meantime politicians in the mainstream parties need to get out on the streets in the BNP stronghold areas and confront the myths they are peddling; engage in open and honest debate. Not with more politically-correct, media-massaged information but with a bit of bald truth, however uncomfortable that might be. Alas, in the current climate I think the pigs are cleared and ready for take off on that one...
What I got worked up about this time was the fuss about the BBC's Question Time which included the leader of the BNP, Nick Griffin.
I'd like to state right now that I find this guy's (and his party's) political viewpoint absolutely abhorrent, and to give them credit, it came across loud and clear that everybody on the panel and most of the audience shares my opinion. What I found distressing was not his presence so much as it didn't seem to me that any of the representatives of the major political parties seemed able to see beyond their disgust for him and what he stands for and realise just what a dangerous person he is. I use that word very carefully, because I am very firmly of the opinion that he and his pals are a major threat and one which the more liberal political movements need to take very seriously indeed.
Packing the studio with people calculated to be on the opposing side to Mr Griffin, although understandable, was monumentally stupid and an act of cowardice on the part of the BBC, I would suggest, as all it did was play into the man's hands and hand him the opportunity to claim the exercise was a 'witchhunt' (which indeed he later, unsurprisingly, did). All we actually saw was everybody ganging up on Mr Griffin (rightly of course), but as a result I doubt whether anybody watching who might be tempted to support the man would have had their minds changed on the fundamentals - rather the opposite in fact. It would have been a substantially more interesting and valuable exercise if the Beeb had found a few more BNP members or general supporters to form some of the audience; then a reasonable and more even-handed debate might have ensued - which just might have exposed the BNP to be the repulsive organisation it in fact is. All we saw really, was evidence, as if any more were needed, that we DO NOT live in a country where free speech is tolerated - and if anybody is under any illusions about that just remember that if you make a statement which is judged to be inciting racial hatred you are liable for prosecution. In saying that I am not saying it is desireable that anybody DOES promote racial hatred, but rather that we cannot pretend we have free speech when we clearly do not and in some ways we might be a more healthy (and certainly less internationally hypocritical) society if we were more able to tolerate listening to views we find repugnant. See my comments further below on this one...
Part of my unease about the whole BNP/Nick Griffin shebang stems from the fact that if media representations are to be believed I know exactly what section of society Mr Griffin and his party colleagues are targeting, where their main support lies, and which buttons they are pressing to hit that target audience: I know, because I grew up amongst it. I am not talking about the skinhead, 'bovver boy' element traditionally associated with the BNP (or the National Front as it was known in those days), although admittedly there were a fair few of those around my neighbourhood when I was a child, but rather the largely honest, 'salt of the earth' working-class people who form the majority of the communities in which the BNP have had their successes lately.
Naturally, in discussing my youth, I am talking about the 1970s and 80s which, as anybody who has seen episodes of Life on Mars will know was culturally a rather different place: these days even 'ordinary people' - who from experience largely didn't (and still don't) raise an eyebrow at the casual racism and sexism back then - know there's a general feeling of unease if they start making too many unfavourable statements about coloured people, immigrants or 'stupid women'. However - and make no mistake about this - in private they still come out with viewpoints that would make Nick Griffin laugh all the way to Downing Street - AND HE KNOWS THIS which is probably why he was grinning like an ape at certain points this evening. I'm afraid the overwhelming impression I received from the rest of tonight's panel is that our mainstream politicians are delusional enough to believe that the majority of people in this country have swallowed the equality message wholesale and to be frank, this frightens the pants off me.
WHY they so obviously think this is beyond me; given that we now, to our shame, have two BNP MEPs and over a hundred councillors you think they would have twigged there is a problem and at least given some indication they mean to do something about it. Votes should after all, speak much louder than ever they or the repulsive Nick Griffin ever could. However, to me, they still seem hell bent on carrying on down the road which had created the environment where people feel so disillusioned with the mainstream political parties they feel there is no other choice than to vote BNP. To quote one of my favourite films - The American President - (which, by the way, isn't quite the lightweight chick-flik it might at first seem but does ask some fairly heavy questions amongst the Michael Douglas/Annette Bening generated froth) the way you get votes is to take people who are 'ordinary', who can perhaps remember with nostalgia better times, and then you scare the hell out of them so that they turn to whatever ideology you are peddling as an comforting alternative to the status quo. Nick Griffin and his foul party are past masters of this particular little ploy: they tell people that don't have a job or are on low wages, don't have adequate housing etc etc that the reason they are suffering is because the naughty government has let all the 'immigrants' in to take away the said jobs, money and houses from the honest hardworking British. Where have the BNP had the majority of their successes? - where there are large concentrations of minority groups and immigrant populations in working class areas.
The bottom line of all this is that I believe the political classes should wake up to the fact that the traditional 'working class' haven't changed their opinions very much in the last 40 or so years and they are still pretty bigoted when it comes down to issues of immigration and race. I would suggest the fact that for various reasons we've allowed the lentil-knitting mob to have their way and grab media attention with their over the top politically-correct initiatives has been the biggest factor ensuring the 'working classes' haven't been nudged into holding rather more tolerant views: because present your average blinkered working-class Brit with some of the off-the-scale garbage these people come out with almost guaranteed to result in blank incomprehension at best, and a stream of abusive invective at worst. Ultimately, and this is the uncomfortable fact a lot of people don't like facing, Brits, of whatever class, are generally inclined to be rather racist anyway; whether this is down to having been an imperial power in the not too distant past I wouldn't like to say, but in that sort of climate I'd argue shoving luvvie-generated material around willy-nilly in front of a largely pretty poorly-educated populace is calculated to merely generate ridicule rather than enlightenment and, more importantly, leave the door open for bigots such as Nick Griffin who are prepared to peddle a more superficially attractive ideology.
Whether Nick Griffin and his pals SHOULD be allowed to have their say is another matter which I touched on briefly above. I would argue that they indeed should - if only because by exposing their ideology to the light of open examination will it be shown up to be the nonsense it is. Make something secret, illicit or 'underground' and it initially becomes more attractive; that's human nature, unfortunately. Also, I'd like to believe we should be more inclined to free speech than we are; to again refer to The American President, the character Michael Douglas plays makes the point that we cannot just point to the flag, celebrate it, and say we are 'free' - we have to realise that real freedom is allowing people to revile and burn that flag if they so wish. Even if this means having to listen to views we find offensive or bigoted: such ideologies aren't going to just disappear if we merely deny people the right to voice them.
Unfortunately I don't have a suggestion as regards what we can DO about all this; again as in many of my rants, I would suggest the underlying problem is down to the lack of an enlightened, but realistic, educational philosophy in the UK. Solve that one, and we just might find a few other things are a lot easier to handle... in the meantime politicians in the mainstream parties need to get out on the streets in the BNP stronghold areas and confront the myths they are peddling; engage in open and honest debate. Not with more politically-correct, media-massaged information but with a bit of bald truth, however uncomfortable that might be. Alas, in the current climate I think the pigs are cleared and ready for take off on that one...
Peace, perfect peace
Aha playmates... it's late at night and I'm sitting here having a quick blog and swift glass of red before I slither off to bed. For once, words are failing me as I attempt to sum up what the past few days of solitude and total lack of responsibility have meant to me... suffice it to say I am now beginning to realise just how much I needed to Get Away from Chateau Angevin And Get Some Perspective. Which is a bit of a shame as I've only got two whole days left of this before I have to go back and face the grisly reality of what the collective Trolls have done to my kitchen between them. I have a lurking suspicion that it Ain't Gonna Be Pretty; but then, given my current feelings of indolence-induced love and bonhomie I could be doing them an injustice and be surprised. Only time will tell on that one...
Still, I'm intending to make the most of what time I have left... so far I've done pretty much precisely what I've wanted, which in this instance has meant read crappy chick-lit novels, watch crappy chick-flik movies and quilt - not crappily. Oh and stuff nice morsels of nibbly food and some bottles of vino I lifted from Troll's stash down my grateful neck. For those who aren't familiar with the back story on this little excursion, my quilter friend Jo had the good sense to marry a farmer and then persuade the dear man to convert one building into a quilt shop and some other buildings into self-catering holiday cottages; I am therefore staying in one of the latter and have been busily sniffing around the goodies in the former. On my own, without any pressures to Do Things For The Family and with boundless time to indulge in any craziness which takes my fancy (including, it has to be said, various forms of Haagen Daas with most meals and at any time of the day or night I chose). Sound good? Well, it's probably better than my poor writing skills can attempt to describe, so I will leave it to the fertile imaginations which I know my various readers possess... And it gets better because Jo has a truly massive tabby tomcat going by the name of Tiger, who has been the only person allowed in to share my solitude (and, admittedly, a tiny bowl of Haagen Daas from time to time for which he seems to have a particular passion). Pictures will follow as soon as I get access to the thingy Troll has which can move pictures from phone to PC.
AND, one of the best things about this whole thing is that I can feel entirely virtuous on two counts:
Firstly - that I cooked enough ready meals before my departure to keep a whole army of Trolls alive for considerably more than a week. I understand, that this, however, has not prevented semi-furtive visits to the curry-house in my absence, but I am Closing My Eyes.
Secondly - that I have made the top of Baby Troll's latest quilt whilst I've been here, which will doubtless cause much excitment on my return. And nagging to get the thing actually quilted and finished, but that's another story. (For those who want to know, it's in the 'Fresh Squeezed' range by Sandy Gervais for Moda - a particularly eye-watering collection of various citrus shades which Baby absolutely adores). Pictures will doubtless follow...
I wonder would they notice if I stowed away here....
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Back in the land of the living...
... just about. Thanks all those who expressed concern about The Bug - I am up and about again now and have been busily engaged in pacifying Troll (now back from the AAMC), ensuring Mini doesn't cause a danger to himself and others, attempting to control the mayhem that is the run up to the choir Christmas events, domestica (unfortunately) and various other tasks too tedious to mention. Oh, and preparing for my week away which is now ONLY TWO DAYS AWAY!!
This, however, hasn't stopped me finding things about which to blog and for today's offering we have two issues. Get the kettle on now, chaps...
Firstly, whilst wandering around Waitrose doing the usual supermarket sweep otherwise known as Getting Enough Food In The House To Feed Various Trolls For More Than Half A Day, I noticed the wording on the butter wrapping (above). Now... call me either daft or ignorant as you will, but I would have thought butter is by definition DAIRY... and therefore the adjectival addition of the word is completely unnecessary? Turning to that beloved organ of online research, Wikipedia, for some reassurance that I am not completely crazy I found the following...
Butter is a dairy product made by churning fresh or fermented cream or milk.
and
A dairy is a facility for the extraction and processing of animal milk—mostly from cows or goats, but also from buffalo, sheep, horses or camels —for human consumption.
Aha... as I thought. I would suggest this is a shameless attempt on the part of Waitrose to conjure up images in the shoppers' subconscious of rolling pastures and plump docile hay-munching cows. Buxom wenches plonking themselves on rustic stools with their buckets to milk the latter. Cool, dim, stone-floored buildings where the said buxom wenches sit churning and patting the butter into shape... etc etc...
GET REAL, WAITROSE.. thanks to the likes of Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall, Jamie Oliver et al, we all KNOW the grisly reality of a modern dairy owes far more to the floodlit industrial unit than the rural past of a Hovis commercial. Have the honesty to be as matter-of-fact and utilitarian as your 'Essential' range would like to make us think it is and bin the soothing adjectives PLEASE. We aren't all as daft as your suit-clad, Ferragamo-tie-wearing marketing muppets would have us believe. And, just for your information, I get Rachel's butter anyway - doing my bit for Wales' ecomony is a lot more important to me than the pennies difference in price between the two products. Oh, and note - Rachel's manages to get by with just the tag 'butter' without any daft adjectival massaging (and menyn as well just in case there was any bi-lingual doubt).
My second topic concerns Bob Marley's Christmas CD. Speaking as a musician, I have to take my hat off to the guy... anybody who can make as much dosh as he can from doing something quite so badly deserves only admiration and praise. I had tears of laughter rolling down my face listening to the clip of him growling out Here Comes Santa Claus - which is more than I suspect I'll be able to say for what is doubtless going to be foisted upon us as the 'real' Christmas offerings from other stars this year. Every penny of the cash rolling in from Bob's latest release is going to charity too... 'Bravo, old boy' is my only further comment.....
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Aaaargh
The last couple of days I have been feeling less than 100%. Today was undoubtedly the worst, and I accepted defeat, got Dave the Slave to do the chickens when he came round, threw some food at Baby Troll and went back to bed for most of the day. Only emerging to put the kettle on for tea at intermittent intervals, change the book of choice, and sling more sustenance Baby's way.
The latter was delighted... for once he was permitted to watch as much TV and play as many PC games as he wished, depredate on his bike (on the strict understanding he stayed in the yard and did NOT go down the drive) and generally slob out without the omnipresent guiding hand of Mummy making sure he did his quota of chores and work. The Kittens and the other cats were also pretty chuffed that they had a nice warm body in the big bed to snuggle up to and a captive hand giving them a stroke from time to time. Troll was patently somewhat relieved that he is still ensconced in the Algerian Autistic Man Camp and therefore was not expected to supervise Mini/be asked to make edible food (unlikely, but in extremis the attempt has to be made)/look after me or otherwise Do Useful Things. The only person suffering, therefore, is ME.
Naturally I am NOT happy. Don't worry, guys, this isn't swine flu - it's just a minor bug - but normal transmission will be suspended until I'm back on my feet again. In the meantime doubtless the world at large will continue to throw events in my path calculated to make my blood boil to blogging temperature so watch this space...
Friday, 2 October 2009
It costs nothing!
Some of you will know even an old techophobe like me hasn't managed to avoid the gargantuan pit of prurience otherwise known as Facebook. What FEW of you know is, in an attempt to avoid Troll's wrath over the increasing size of my Amazon account, I've taken to tinkering with a couple of applications on Facebook rather than reading whilst the morning bucket of tea is quaffed.... namely Farmville and Farmtown.
Now, these are seemingly innocent little pasttimes - you go in, create your own farm and gradually work your way up the various scales until you reach the giddy heights of level 34 where there is no more left to learn. All very cute and totally pointless you might think... until you realise that on Farmtown you have to engage with other players to get them to come and harvest and plough for you - both sides obtain benefits that way. And THIS, gentle readers, is where the problem lies; because once again we come up against the repulsive brick wall formed of the lack of manners instilled in the general public. It's bad enough when the time comes, your crops are ripe and you need to go to the marketplace to find bods to do the work for you - there are usually plenty of people in there giving ample evidence that the Government's literacy programmes are doing nothing to make the country more able to express itself in print in a coherent fashion, believe me. 'Hire me plzzzzzzzzz' is the standard request - which in my case earns the pleader an instant click of the 'ignore' button. You get the picture: I suppose I should be grateful there is at least a 'plzz' in there. However, the situation just gets even more appalling when the little critters are actually hired and supposedly doing the 'jobs' on your farm ...
If you employ somebody to harvest, they get paid in the currency of the game. This means they have more to spend on geegaws to tart up their own farms or merely to buy seeds to grow their own crops. If you employ somebody to PLOUGH (not 'plow' as the game unfortunately insists you spell it) they get paid a smaller amount but also get 'experience' (XP) points which help them progress up the levels. Because of the way in which the game is weighted, you tend to end up being a multimillionnaire once you've reached a certain level, but you still need XPs... so ploughing jobs are more sought after by the higher graded players.
Why I am I boring you all with this? Principally because this morning, I employed a taciturn little soul to come and harvest various things which had ripened overnight. Normally I automatically give the subsequent ploughing to the person I employ - viewing it as a sort of reward in some ways I suppose. Anyway, this little madam pottered around with some of the crops (the higher value ones of course) but then claimed she couldn't see that some of them were indeed ready for her desultory attention. Not once was a 'please' or a 'thank you' used. She then, without missing a beat said 'I want to plow'. Red rag to bull time, here we come....
I went to a buddy's farm to request they come and finish off the harvesting and gave THEM the ploughing. Instant 'I want to plow' repetition from Muppet, who went ballistic when I pointed out that she'd not shown any evidence of having any manners, hadn't finished the harvesting and therefore her services were no longer required. In the course of the ensuring cyber-spat, it turned out it was all MY fault she hadn't said 'please' or 'thank you' and that she couldn't 'see' that there were other things waiting to be harvested. Work that one out if you will... add 'omnipotent' to my list of accomplishments, shall I?
God give me strength. The manners issue is one I've come to understand is completely ubiquitous: ie. it's extremely unusual these days to come across somebody who behaves with any degree of politeness. But I admit I have a problem coming to terms with the complete inability of the general population to accept responsibility for their own actions: either in a piddly little nothing-game like Farmtown or in a wider sense in the world at large. This general failure to understand that just sometimes it's better to put your hands up and say 'yes, I cocked up', or 'yes it was me' and actually follow this with 'SORRY' without first saying 'but it was really because of x and therefore I am really completely blameless' I would suggest is causing far more problems than anything the Government are doing.
I have to go and do something vaguely useful now, so I haven't got the time - or, I admit, the energy - to soapbox about this any more but I will close by saying that I believe the only way we're going to actually get out of the mess in which we've got ourselves is by teaching children from the earliest age possible that if they make a mistake they MUST accept it is THEIR mistake, and, more crucially, LEARN FROM IT. Trying to muddy the waters by passing the blame onto somebody else isn't going to do them or the rest of us any good in the long term (although admittedly in the short term it might mean they aren't punished, and therefore the option's tempting, it's true). It's a superficially small, very basic, but truly profound change which would, I believe, alter for the better so much about the world around us.
Oh, and walloping some notion of when to say 'please' and 'thank you' into the little dears wouldn't be bad either... one step at a time...
Now, these are seemingly innocent little pasttimes - you go in, create your own farm and gradually work your way up the various scales until you reach the giddy heights of level 34 where there is no more left to learn. All very cute and totally pointless you might think... until you realise that on Farmtown you have to engage with other players to get them to come and harvest and plough for you - both sides obtain benefits that way. And THIS, gentle readers, is where the problem lies; because once again we come up against the repulsive brick wall formed of the lack of manners instilled in the general public. It's bad enough when the time comes, your crops are ripe and you need to go to the marketplace to find bods to do the work for you - there are usually plenty of people in there giving ample evidence that the Government's literacy programmes are doing nothing to make the country more able to express itself in print in a coherent fashion, believe me. 'Hire me plzzzzzzzzz' is the standard request - which in my case earns the pleader an instant click of the 'ignore' button. You get the picture: I suppose I should be grateful there is at least a 'plzz' in there. However, the situation just gets even more appalling when the little critters are actually hired and supposedly doing the 'jobs' on your farm ...
If you employ somebody to harvest, they get paid in the currency of the game. This means they have more to spend on geegaws to tart up their own farms or merely to buy seeds to grow their own crops. If you employ somebody to PLOUGH (not 'plow' as the game unfortunately insists you spell it) they get paid a smaller amount but also get 'experience' (XP) points which help them progress up the levels. Because of the way in which the game is weighted, you tend to end up being a multimillionnaire once you've reached a certain level, but you still need XPs... so ploughing jobs are more sought after by the higher graded players.
Why I am I boring you all with this? Principally because this morning, I employed a taciturn little soul to come and harvest various things which had ripened overnight. Normally I automatically give the subsequent ploughing to the person I employ - viewing it as a sort of reward in some ways I suppose. Anyway, this little madam pottered around with some of the crops (the higher value ones of course) but then claimed she couldn't see that some of them were indeed ready for her desultory attention. Not once was a 'please' or a 'thank you' used. She then, without missing a beat said 'I want to plow'. Red rag to bull time, here we come....
I went to a buddy's farm to request they come and finish off the harvesting and gave THEM the ploughing. Instant 'I want to plow' repetition from Muppet, who went ballistic when I pointed out that she'd not shown any evidence of having any manners, hadn't finished the harvesting and therefore her services were no longer required. In the course of the ensuring cyber-spat, it turned out it was all MY fault she hadn't said 'please' or 'thank you' and that she couldn't 'see' that there were other things waiting to be harvested. Work that one out if you will... add 'omnipotent' to my list of accomplishments, shall I?
God give me strength. The manners issue is one I've come to understand is completely ubiquitous: ie. it's extremely unusual these days to come across somebody who behaves with any degree of politeness. But I admit I have a problem coming to terms with the complete inability of the general population to accept responsibility for their own actions: either in a piddly little nothing-game like Farmtown or in a wider sense in the world at large. This general failure to understand that just sometimes it's better to put your hands up and say 'yes, I cocked up', or 'yes it was me' and actually follow this with 'SORRY' without first saying 'but it was really because of x and therefore I am really completely blameless' I would suggest is causing far more problems than anything the Government are doing.
I have to go and do something vaguely useful now, so I haven't got the time - or, I admit, the energy - to soapbox about this any more but I will close by saying that I believe the only way we're going to actually get out of the mess in which we've got ourselves is by teaching children from the earliest age possible that if they make a mistake they MUST accept it is THEIR mistake, and, more crucially, LEARN FROM IT. Trying to muddy the waters by passing the blame onto somebody else isn't going to do them or the rest of us any good in the long term (although admittedly in the short term it might mean they aren't punished, and therefore the option's tempting, it's true). It's a superficially small, very basic, but truly profound change which would, I believe, alter for the better so much about the world around us.
Oh, and walloping some notion of when to say 'please' and 'thank you' into the little dears wouldn't be bad either... one step at a time...
Grrrrr
Well, it's well past midnight again and ONCE AGAIN today I have had zero time to do any sewing.... this is driving me nuts.I have projects which are sitting there crying 'do me, do me' every time I walk past with my arms crammed full of laundry/on the way to the Ray Mears Nuclear Survival Cupboard to get more ingredients for the latest meal/towards the back door to go and do chicken-related stuff. And each time I have to reply 'Maybe later'... in the full and certain knowledge that the chances of me getting any clear space in the schedule for a bit of stress-reducing Me Time are pretty close to zero. Either that, or just as I get to a point where I can think 'Oh I could sit and do some sewing now', without guilt, Baby Troll or The Kittens do something potentially life-threatening which demands my immediate attention. Or one of my friends rings up with the latest crisis. Or Troll rings up with some problem or other he can't solve from the Autistic Man Camp and which I therefore have to Drop Everything And Deal With As A Matter Of Cosmic Importance. You get the picture...
It's got to stop soon... I don't know about everybody else, but in situations like this I find myself mentally squatting, Krakatoa-like, (the bodily me meanwhile is scampering around like a cockroach on a hot rock) until the critical point is reached and in a frenzy of consummate disgust I throw every deeply boring task which I Know Should Be Done For The Benefit Of The Household onto the backburner and spend a lovely time Being Completely Selfish And Doing My Own Thing. And WOE BETIDE ANYBODY OR ANYTHING which might even have a nanosecond of dreaming it can disturb me once I get into that state.... the house can go shipwreck itself for all I care when I'm in my East of Java moda (and yes, I do know Krakatoa was WEST of Java before anybody starts trying to be smart).
Unfortunately, as Troll is due back from the AAMC next week, and will expect the house to be more Mary Poppins than Mary Rose, I know it's going to be best for all concerned if I can manage to contain myself for another few days. Anybody who has a spare troupe of cleaners/a house chef with a taste for producing gourmet freezer food/a nanny to make Jo Frost resemble an experiment in chaos theory knows where to find me....
Thursday, 24 September 2009
Well that's me told then..
Mini Troll to me, today, when picking up a letter addressed to me: 'That's not your name - you're MUM'
Nice to know my identity's been totally subsumed in the monster ego that is Mini, isn't it?
Nice to know my identity's been totally subsumed in the monster ego that is Mini, isn't it?
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
A salutory lesson
Yesterday I nipped into the tearoom in the village; to satisfy Mini-Troll's demands for sight of his babysitter Charlene (who is manageress there), pay her what I owe her brother (James the Chicken Boy) for various chicken-related chores he's done recently, catch up on the local gossip and, of course, slurp down my nth cup of tea for the day. I was a little surprised to see the place packed out - it's normally busy but not THAT busy! - but realised a coach party of older tourists had descended on the village and the tea room was their natural centre of gravity. So I settled down in a pokey corner and prepared to indulge in another of my favourite activities... people watching and eavesdropping.
And I can honestly say I wish I hadn't.
I don't think I heard ONE positive comment during my entire half hour stay ... perhaps it's a sign of our credit-crunch-depressed times, or perhaps it's just the particular band of aging Midlanders who were in there, but, trust me, that lot were moaning for Britain. Now, I know us Brits love a good old gripe - along with endless discussions of the weather, whinging is a National Sport - but this really was A Whinge Too Far. During my half an hour, I heard:
1. Dicussions centring around money - the most personal details of two old ladies' stashes were brought out for public view, picked over and dissected to the last farthing. None of the findings were positive, a fact mostly blamed on;
a) evil banks picking on old ladies generally and these two in particular
b) evil stockbrokers ditto
c) evil building societies who had converted to banks and therefore copped the same opprobrium as said institutions
d) The Government - also evil
e) Young people - who evilly want too much
2. Discussion centring around their families, none of whom seemed to attract any praise or pride. Chief amongst the perceived evildoers were, surprise surprise, In Laws; who were blamed for anything negative ranging from burnt food to juvenile delinquency.
3. A more extended discussion of Young People than that in 1(e) above which centred around the perceived pointlessness of any of them going to university. General discussion of
a) 'we don't need all these graduates - *I* didn't go to universtity and I don't see why they need to'
b) 'they don't learn anything worth knowing at university *I* have worked with graduates and *I* knew more than them' (although a grudging admission of the said graduates having more self confidence owing to their university experience was made)
c) 'they acquire a huge amount of debt at university which they just accept - I never owed anybody anything etc etc etc'
d) 'she never USED her university degree; she just got married and had children'
You get the picture?
Now, this was a bit of a lesson for me.. because at some point I have had a good old whinge myself about ALL of the above. So it was a bit of food for thought about how, perhaps, I should try to find a bit more positive to say about everything... down the road of time I DO NOT want to turn into a hideous facsimile of what I saw yesterday!
However, in my defence, I would point out in response to the whinges above:
1 a) and b) The said two old ladies by the sound of it had quite a large stash in stocks and shares, which MUST have been raking in a goodish bit when times were good. I somehow don't think they were calling banks and stockbrokers evil when that was going on... ladies, you have to take the bad with the good, I'm afraid, and at your age you should know you don't get anything for free: if the banks and brokers were greedy and irresponsible, were you less so? Because it was YOU who doubtless demanded your profits and dividends from them and would threaten to move your stash away from them if they didn't 'perform'...
1 c) Again, somehow, dear ladies, I don't think you complained when the lovely fat wodge of dosh you got when the building societies converted to banks landed in your account. And I suspect you didn't use the word 'evil' when you voted that they should convert either...
1 d) Judging by the majorities the present Government attracted in the last couple of elections, SOMEBODY must have voted for them. I suspect, from the comments made, this particular pair of old dears were up there like a shot crossing their ballot papers in the red box - ah, but - silly me - then Labour were offering them lots of deals... nuff said really...
1 e) Young people don't actually have that much money - especially not in comparison to the blue rinse brigade. Sort out your own house first, mesdames.
2. I can't honestly say I don't have a good old grunt about IN LAWS, especially as the Grande Troll would be No1 on my hit list were such things legal. But I can say that, if the English had any notion of family, perhaps society as a whole would be better off? And before anybody says it - I HAVE tried to integrate the Grande Troll a lot more into our lives - it's HER who has the problem with this, not ME. She's still Troll's mother and Mini's grandmother and I'd swallow 99% of her daftness for their sake if she'd show any interest in acting like a family member rather than a self-centred, self-obsessed, insular blonde prima donna. So there. My point to these ladies would be that THEY are family members too and if things are going wrong within the families THEY also have a responsibility both for the problem itself and its solution. I'm pretty sure if anything good happened they'd be in there like ferrets up a drainpipe, after all...
3. And on to university education.. now, here, don't worry, I'm not going to go off on an hour long rant. Because I do agree to a limited extent that we don't need as many graduates as the government think we do and I don't think that doing a course in Leisure and Tourism at the University of Nether Wallop (formerly a FE College)is actually doing much good for anybody: the people doing such courses would probably be better off doing a vocational qualification with a practical component rather than a 'degree', which should be an elite symbol. I don't have a problem with elitism - if something is elite it is to be striven for - an attitude which should raise standards more effectively than fiddling with exam structure. However I DO have a problem with the, very English, assumption that 'you don't need to bother with university because the School of Life will teach you more'; if somebody has put the work in to go to university, has the intellectual capacity for it to be appropriate for them to go to university, and there is a place for them at a decent university then they SHOULD go to university. And in those circumstances it it monstrous that as a society we should expect them to carry a crippling debt for years afterwards.
I also have a big problem with anybody saying that a degree wasn't 'used' because somebody did a job which wasn't immediately linked to that degree, or because they got married and had children. Something which a lot of people have lost sight of (in England I question whether many held the view in the first place) is that intellectual development is not something which should end when you graduate, but rather something which should continue throughout life. I believe you SHOULDN'T just stop learning when you get a job, but unfortunately that is very much the attitude in this country. Ideally, in the Angevin ethos anyway, universities should be a nursery bed where you are given the tools to enable your lifelong intellectual growth - and graduation is therefore just an indication that you've mastered these tools; not that you know everything you should and can now give up. Just because your job isn't directly using the knowledge you gained at university doesn't stop you developing that knowledge further outside of work. Also, in terms of confidence, problem-solving and just self-knowledge, university can give you so much that it's very hard to acquire in the School of Life. As a society if we all continued to embrace learning after our formal education had finished, don't you think we as individuals, and society as a whole would be better for it? All these are things which you can also pass to your children, funnily enough; my (Welsh) great-grandmother used to say 'educate a woman and you educate a family'. Something which obviously didn't occur to yesterday's pair. By the way, I had to get up and leave when they really started going to town on this issue because I would NOT have been able to keep quiet and I didn't want to create a scene to embarrass Charlene - which I doubtless would have done. I stomped off in a high old mood back to Chateau Angevin to take my temper out on the ironing...
So... what have *I* learnt from this experience?
Firstly, I think, as I said above, to try to be more positive about the world around me - yes a good moan is cathartic from time to time, but do it too much and it just means you lose the energy and will to try to change anything.
Secondly, to try to be more positive about the PEOPLE around me - it's easy to just whinge about the Grande Troll, for example, but she IS Mini's grandmother and I, perforce, have to rub along with her for a good few years yet, God willing.
And lastly?
Not to go into the flipping tea room when a coach load of Midlands OAPs have descended ...
Something to show my non-Facebook fans we really DO sing!
I thought I'd prove we really DO do serious stuff on tour and not just eat, drink and take the mickey out of sat-navs...
This is a shot of us singing in Autun Cathedral.. I think before the bats came out to fly over our heads!
Monday, 21 September 2009
OK OK I know I know ...
... but it's taken me some time to get over everything and get back from an even keel! I don't talk about it much, but I DO have M.E. and doing something like a tour means I have to lie quite low for some time afterwards before normal service is resumed. In this instance I'm quite grateful Troll toddled back off to the Algerian Autistic Man Camp pretty soon after I got back, because he, unlike Mini, is not content if there is too much slinging together of varying forms of pasta... Mini would happily eat pasta for breakfast if I let him, so suffice it to say he's been a happy bunny for the last two weeks!
Anyway, enough excuses...
The tour. As you may have gathered this was a great success both artistically and socially. We had a hat-trick of standing ovations, got onto French TV and had a rave write up in the press, so everybody is happy. We also had an absolutely fab time reverting to teenager-dom when we weren't being terribly serious artistes; everybody said they didn't want the tour to end and real life to begin again so we must be doing something right. Enough cremant was imbibed and snails eaten to maintain our honour and nobody was arrested... not quite anyway...
One thing which struck me in particular was the way in which group mentality can be a positive force. Without mentioning names there was one of our number who, let us say, does lack a few social graces (mostly I suspect, because his daft wife hasn't walloped some notion of respect and manners into him over the years, but that's mere speculation on my part) and initially this was a bit of an issue. However, by the end of the week, he'd almost grasped the notion that saying 'please' and 'thank you', even to people he considered friends, was actually a good idea. Let's hope his progress continues - but this is not the main point I'm trying to make. Rather, it is that if any change in his attitude has been achieved it's been done through good humour, a bit of gentle (and not-so-gentle it has to be said!) ribbing, and, most importantly, everybody else setting a good example. In short, amongst ourselves it was the culture to be polite and so it became harder NOT to follow suit. I don't expect the guy to change overnight, but I am hopeful he'll get the idea that if he wants to be treated with respect he has to show some to the rest of us too. Watch this space!
Now, here's a thought... what if the Dodecantus ethos could be extended to the world at large? WHAT IF - perish the thought - people by and large WERE actually polite to each other and showed some respect and love for those around them? Would we actually see the rude, self-centred, crew shaping up as they realised it made sense to play nicely? Or would they just make little ill-mannered ghettos for themselves and their like-minded pals and stay there?? There's a thought to ponder whilst I go and make some more pasta....
Anyway, enough excuses...
The tour. As you may have gathered this was a great success both artistically and socially. We had a hat-trick of standing ovations, got onto French TV and had a rave write up in the press, so everybody is happy. We also had an absolutely fab time reverting to teenager-dom when we weren't being terribly serious artistes; everybody said they didn't want the tour to end and real life to begin again so we must be doing something right. Enough cremant was imbibed and snails eaten to maintain our honour and nobody was arrested... not quite anyway...
One thing which struck me in particular was the way in which group mentality can be a positive force. Without mentioning names there was one of our number who, let us say, does lack a few social graces (mostly I suspect, because his daft wife hasn't walloped some notion of respect and manners into him over the years, but that's mere speculation on my part) and initially this was a bit of an issue. However, by the end of the week, he'd almost grasped the notion that saying 'please' and 'thank you', even to people he considered friends, was actually a good idea. Let's hope his progress continues - but this is not the main point I'm trying to make. Rather, it is that if any change in his attitude has been achieved it's been done through good humour, a bit of gentle (and not-so-gentle it has to be said!) ribbing, and, most importantly, everybody else setting a good example. In short, amongst ourselves it was the culture to be polite and so it became harder NOT to follow suit. I don't expect the guy to change overnight, but I am hopeful he'll get the idea that if he wants to be treated with respect he has to show some to the rest of us too. Watch this space!
Now, here's a thought... what if the Dodecantus ethos could be extended to the world at large? WHAT IF - perish the thought - people by and large WERE actually polite to each other and showed some respect and love for those around them? Would we actually see the rude, self-centred, crew shaping up as they realised it made sense to play nicely? Or would they just make little ill-mannered ghettos for themselves and their like-minded pals and stay there?? There's a thought to ponder whilst I go and make some more pasta....
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