I'll be guesting on Ian Macs phone-in on Monday the 15th Nov from 12 noon. These are the subjects I think we should discuss.
1. The problem of aggresive Islamism in Britain. Not ISLAM but ISLAMISM)
2. Not supporting our own.
1. At some point we must stop pussyfooting around those stirring up fear and hatred and deal with the problem. The longer this abuse goes on unchallenged, the more those revelling in their own offensiveness feel free to go about their hateful business, and the more the problem compounds. The more it compounds, so the more people divide into camps.
The BNP is growing its powerbase upon the fears of ordinary Brits, in the wake of the government failing to protect the country. At the other extreme Islamists are working hard to radicalise as many young Moslems as they can, and are plainly succeeding with their vile quest. Its a recipi for disaster and one that should not be allowed to happen in Britain.
Two points to make...
Only since the Salman Rushdie affair has Islam become viewed as a threat to our way of life.
Prior to the 1950's when Moslems came here at the invitation of the government, there was no Islamic presence in Britain, other than at a very low level. (A few seamen settled around port towns for instance) This means that Islam is far too recently introduced to be considered part of the 'establishment'. It along with every other recently introduced religion are 'guest faiths' in my opinion. In a couple of centuries time once fully integrated, they can be considered as of the establishment, but not until then and until they have earned the right.
What are we entitled to expect of guests? The answer should be that they don't go around causing trouble. They keep their noses clean. They work and contribute. And they do nothing to upset and cause fear amongst the host community.
What have those making the vilest of threats done of late? They've caused great offence and driven BNP membership upwards.
What would I do about the likes of those to have burnt poppies last week? I believe our security services should identify every Islamist in the land and determine where they were born. If it was abroad, I'd throw them out on their ear with no cerimony and in the name of lancing this offensive and very dangerous boil. Those that were born here I'd arrest, charge with endangering the wellbeing of the nation, remove them from the influence of preachers of hate, deprogramme them, and teach them how to exercise free will and think for themselves. If they pass mustre they return to the community and if not, they stay locked up.
Were it up to me, I'd declare every non-British born resident in the land on permenent licence, and make plain that to commit a crime and therefore abuse the hospitality you have been shown, will result with your residency being forfitted. Park on a double yellow line and you're out! Can you imagine how keen migrants would be to keep their noses clean if it were the case?
My second point yet by far the more important one, revolves around how it is the most dangerous criminals in our midst can threaten peace loving Brits with impunity. That is down to the antics of our legal trade, now so utterly corrupt that it will provide the enemies of the state with a cloak of legal protection, the price of their being able to milk taxpayers for their 'services'. I believe our legal trade has lost the plot. They are the most ruthless breed of businesspeople in the land, whose greed even stretches to endangering the nation. Ultimately they are the truly unacceptable face of Capitalism/Thatcherism. The 'profession' that is supposed to protect our civilisation and ensure justice, has in actual fact, become the most serious threat to our way of life.
2. (Not that I expect this subject to get a look-in) In the Motoring Suppliment of this weeks Isle of Wight County Press, 3 boasts caught my eye. The first was that every Police Force in the land had signed an aggrement to equip with Mitsibishi 4x4 vehicles. The next item was that again every Police Force was to buy huge numbers of BMW patrol cars.
Not so much as a nut and bolt on a Mitsibishi is made in the UK and the same is true of BMW's. BMW though does at least have a little more credibility as that company does have British investments (Rolls Royce and Mini) the cars the police are buying though, are entirely of German manufacture.
The 3rd boast to report was that the top selling small 'British' van is the VW Caddy.
At some point us Brits really do have to stop being our own worst enemies and get the neccessary debate underway. We've lost millions of jobs. The country's life blood (cash flow) is being transfused into the ecomomies of our competitors. And currently the situation is getting not better but immeasurably worse. We're idiots! A race of fools governed by people not worthy of this once great nation.
Sunday, 14 November 2010
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
Flag of convenience
I'm still seething at the humiliating spectacle of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, Christening the latest Cunard gin palace in Southampton yesterday (11.10.2010)
Italian built, almost entirely foreign crewed from the lands of cheap labour, and foreign owned by the Carnival Corporation of the USA, the only thing 'British' about the ship in question, is the Red Duster hanging from the stern.
On the quayside a military band dressed in Red Coats played Rule Britannia. The great and the good were all present and enjoying the freebee junket. And meanwhile a bunch of thick as s**t onlookers waved plastic Union Flags that will have been made in China.
Over the past 20 or so years, Madge or one of her children has named goodness knows how many foreign built liners at Southampton. That is to say not just the current Cunard and P&O fleets but other cruising outfits as well, and none were British built although all were registered here and flying the Red Ensign.
What is my objection you might very well ask? I've lots!
The creative economy that worked in the interests of British craftsmanship and working communities, has been since 1979 as good as abandoned.
Margaret Thatcher introduced the 'Services economy' that has now been with us for 30 years. So that's Banking, City Dealing and such, and look where that has got us.
British management has over the period sold the ground out from beneith all of our feet. Cunard and P&O being perfect examples of the selling off of our national assets to foreign interests that couldn't care less about the welbeing of our country.
All notions centred on 'supporting and looking after the interests of your own countrymen' have gone. But its worse than that, Britain's political and commercial establishments have entirely divorced themselves from the interests of the masses. All those at the top of the pecking order care about is their own obscene wealth. Wealth they've helped themselves too that rightfully belonged to us all to a lesser or greater extent.
We make next to nothing now but instead the country is awash with imports, all of which have to be paid for.
Our traditional skills such as shipbuilding have been allowed to die.
Our economy has become low skill and we're running an unsustainable 'Benefits Culture'
I so wish Her Majesty would tell the likes of Cunard and P&O to go hang, next time them want her to legitimise their abusing of our country and heritage. I'd raise a glass to the old lady!
Italian built, almost entirely foreign crewed from the lands of cheap labour, and foreign owned by the Carnival Corporation of the USA, the only thing 'British' about the ship in question, is the Red Duster hanging from the stern.
On the quayside a military band dressed in Red Coats played Rule Britannia. The great and the good were all present and enjoying the freebee junket. And meanwhile a bunch of thick as s**t onlookers waved plastic Union Flags that will have been made in China.
Over the past 20 or so years, Madge or one of her children has named goodness knows how many foreign built liners at Southampton. That is to say not just the current Cunard and P&O fleets but other cruising outfits as well, and none were British built although all were registered here and flying the Red Ensign.
What is my objection you might very well ask? I've lots!
The creative economy that worked in the interests of British craftsmanship and working communities, has been since 1979 as good as abandoned.
Margaret Thatcher introduced the 'Services economy' that has now been with us for 30 years. So that's Banking, City Dealing and such, and look where that has got us.
British management has over the period sold the ground out from beneith all of our feet. Cunard and P&O being perfect examples of the selling off of our national assets to foreign interests that couldn't care less about the welbeing of our country.
All notions centred on 'supporting and looking after the interests of your own countrymen' have gone. But its worse than that, Britain's political and commercial establishments have entirely divorced themselves from the interests of the masses. All those at the top of the pecking order care about is their own obscene wealth. Wealth they've helped themselves too that rightfully belonged to us all to a lesser or greater extent.
We make next to nothing now but instead the country is awash with imports, all of which have to be paid for.
Our traditional skills such as shipbuilding have been allowed to die.
Our economy has become low skill and we're running an unsustainable 'Benefits Culture'
I so wish Her Majesty would tell the likes of Cunard and P&O to go hang, next time them want her to legitimise their abusing of our country and heritage. I'd raise a glass to the old lady!
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
I'll keep this brief...
I'll keep this brief, I've been unable to keep up my blog of late because of conventional work. Early on this year trade was horribly quiet, but that allowed me to write, work on a business plan and do this blog etc. Lately though work has gone loopy and I've had to buckle down and do it. This week I'm off work and so able to write and I can't tell you how good that feels. If I can keep up the pace of the past couple of days, I should end up with a completed chapter 2 of my book Sheep No More. Chapter 2 you say? Is that all? Yup, and a new Chapter 3 to follow. The rest of the book is already written and just needs a bit of shuffling about and polishing. I shouldn't say this, but I'm sort of hoping trade will quieten down again soon. As for the mortgage and how I'll pay it if my hopes are answered? I'll avoid thinking about that for the mo!
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Our amazing NHS
Hi all, I've been a bit quiet of late because of a week off to work on material for my book, then attending a festival (The Bestival on the Isle of Wight) with friends and family. Afterwards flu struck and buggered up the return to work week, and to cap it all, an industrial injury completed the week. Incidently, I'm the only male in my household and most of us have had the same bug, that was brought into the house in the first place by one of my daughters, who lives and works in London. According to feminine logic, in the case of females this thing counts as being genuine flu. In my case though its 'Man-Flu' despite being exactly the same in terms of symptoms, so how fair is that?
By trade I'm an engraver of the traditional sort whose craft hasn't changed in thousands of years. If you've ever seen a wood carver at work with a chisel, you'll be able to picture what I do. I though carve metal, usually silver and gold in a virtually identicle way although on a much smaller scale. So anyway, on Friday afternoon I managed to flick a slither of sharp silver into an eye and couldn't get it back out again. For hours I tried and so did my wife and daughters. Despite that it was visible, none would do the necessary due to squeamishness.
At 11pm on Friday evening I could stand it no more and allowed my daughter to drive me to St Mary's casualty unit on the Isle of Wight. I'd held off in the belief that eventually eye baths and shoving my face into a sink of water and blinking wildly must do the trick. It didn't, and all the while I was just doing more harm through moving this tiny 'blade' around the surface of my eye.
The other reason I was reluctant to go was that I thought... late evening? Friday? The place will be full of drunks. Chavs will be vomiting all over the place. The staff will be fending off verbal and perhaps physical attacks. Weary cops will be trying to control pissed scumbags with bleeding knuckles. Its going to be hell on earth. I was wrong on all accounts.
At around 11.30 we arrived and it was like the grave. There was a beautiful and charming woman on reception who took my details and bid me sit down. A few seconds later a friendly nurse called me into a room and took down all the details. She went away and came back moments later with a couple of pain killers and half a glass of pink liquid. She said "It smells good but tastes vile and will help with the discomfort". Her description was spot on!
A few minutes pass and a young male doctor looks in. He's very friendly and reasuring. He takes a long hard look with the naked eye, puts in some drops, then some more drops and finally some sort of green dye. Then I'm sat behind a contraption with a high powered set of lenses and lights. I have to move my eyes left and right, up and down, and it all goes on for quite some time. Then he invites my wife and daughter to look at what he's seeing. They do so in turn and whilst they're amazed at what can be seen, are whincing at the sight of it. Apparently the green dye will only mark damaged areas and my eye is pretty well carved up. Its like the poor thing has had an encounter with a brillo pad! Then the worst bit happens when the doctor sets to work with all sorts of impliments beneith my eyelids, an experience I really didn't enjoy whilst appreciating that it had to be done.
Next I'm sent for an x-ray which is a thirty second walk away and the radiologist does me straight away. I have to look up and then down, then return to the consulting room. About 2 minutes pass, then the doctor comes back in carrying an i-phone. He shows me the x-rays on it and tells me the object has gone.
Next I'm given some eye drops for which I have to pay the £7 prescription charge, I'm told I cannot drive and were I to be silly enough to do so my insurance would be invalid. Finally I'm told that I'll get a call on Monday to attend for a follow-up, at which hopefully be given the green light to get behind the wheel again. Its now 1am, I'm still the only patient in the place although the staff tell me they're bracing themselves for when the nightclubs kick out. Thankfully I won't be there but am instead headed home to bed, whilst keeping a bleary eye out for cops with speed cameras.
I'd like to thank St Mary's NHS Hospital in Newport Isle of Wight for their care and service. I think you guys are tops! The NHS is one of the few bits of our civilisation that still works pretty well and that is a credit to the country. Let us for gods sake value this wonderful national asset and tell the government in no uncertain terms that it must not be undermined.
By trade I'm an engraver of the traditional sort whose craft hasn't changed in thousands of years. If you've ever seen a wood carver at work with a chisel, you'll be able to picture what I do. I though carve metal, usually silver and gold in a virtually identicle way although on a much smaller scale. So anyway, on Friday afternoon I managed to flick a slither of sharp silver into an eye and couldn't get it back out again. For hours I tried and so did my wife and daughters. Despite that it was visible, none would do the necessary due to squeamishness.
At 11pm on Friday evening I could stand it no more and allowed my daughter to drive me to St Mary's casualty unit on the Isle of Wight. I'd held off in the belief that eventually eye baths and shoving my face into a sink of water and blinking wildly must do the trick. It didn't, and all the while I was just doing more harm through moving this tiny 'blade' around the surface of my eye.
The other reason I was reluctant to go was that I thought... late evening? Friday? The place will be full of drunks. Chavs will be vomiting all over the place. The staff will be fending off verbal and perhaps physical attacks. Weary cops will be trying to control pissed scumbags with bleeding knuckles. Its going to be hell on earth. I was wrong on all accounts.
At around 11.30 we arrived and it was like the grave. There was a beautiful and charming woman on reception who took my details and bid me sit down. A few seconds later a friendly nurse called me into a room and took down all the details. She went away and came back moments later with a couple of pain killers and half a glass of pink liquid. She said "It smells good but tastes vile and will help with the discomfort". Her description was spot on!
A few minutes pass and a young male doctor looks in. He's very friendly and reasuring. He takes a long hard look with the naked eye, puts in some drops, then some more drops and finally some sort of green dye. Then I'm sat behind a contraption with a high powered set of lenses and lights. I have to move my eyes left and right, up and down, and it all goes on for quite some time. Then he invites my wife and daughter to look at what he's seeing. They do so in turn and whilst they're amazed at what can be seen, are whincing at the sight of it. Apparently the green dye will only mark damaged areas and my eye is pretty well carved up. Its like the poor thing has had an encounter with a brillo pad! Then the worst bit happens when the doctor sets to work with all sorts of impliments beneith my eyelids, an experience I really didn't enjoy whilst appreciating that it had to be done.
Next I'm sent for an x-ray which is a thirty second walk away and the radiologist does me straight away. I have to look up and then down, then return to the consulting room. About 2 minutes pass, then the doctor comes back in carrying an i-phone. He shows me the x-rays on it and tells me the object has gone.
Next I'm given some eye drops for which I have to pay the £7 prescription charge, I'm told I cannot drive and were I to be silly enough to do so my insurance would be invalid. Finally I'm told that I'll get a call on Monday to attend for a follow-up, at which hopefully be given the green light to get behind the wheel again. Its now 1am, I'm still the only patient in the place although the staff tell me they're bracing themselves for when the nightclubs kick out. Thankfully I won't be there but am instead headed home to bed, whilst keeping a bleary eye out for cops with speed cameras.
I'd like to thank St Mary's NHS Hospital in Newport Isle of Wight for their care and service. I think you guys are tops! The NHS is one of the few bits of our civilisation that still works pretty well and that is a credit to the country. Let us for gods sake value this wonderful national asset and tell the government in no uncertain terms that it must not be undermined.
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
Almost time to relax!
This isn't about work and politics and all the stuff that usually gets my goat, but something much nicer. Tomorrow (Wednesday) all my girls will be home and a group of friends will arrive, then on Thursday we'll be off to the Bestival at Robin Hill IOW.
Festivals are a family hobby and this one promises to be unique. For the first time ever, all my girls have jobs, they've all paid for their own tickets, and they'll all be buying their own meals, drinks, soveneir t-shirts and stuff.
At most of the other festivals I've taken them to, its cost me a packet! Ticket £100 minimum. A plate of noodles or similar, about £6... x 6!... Twice a day!!! Not a cheap hobby, or it wasn't, but perhaps will be now.
I'm almost ready to relax now, so roll on Rolf Harris, Prodigy, Dizzy Rascal and scores more. Sod the weather forecast of rain, I just don't care. Night all X
Festivals are a family hobby and this one promises to be unique. For the first time ever, all my girls have jobs, they've all paid for their own tickets, and they'll all be buying their own meals, drinks, soveneir t-shirts and stuff.
At most of the other festivals I've taken them to, its cost me a packet! Ticket £100 minimum. A plate of noodles or similar, about £6... x 6!... Twice a day!!! Not a cheap hobby, or it wasn't, but perhaps will be now.
I'm almost ready to relax now, so roll on Rolf Harris, Prodigy, Dizzy Rascal and scores more. Sod the weather forecast of rain, I just don't care. Night all X
Sunday, 5 September 2010
Sheep No More 'The Book' gets back on track.
Everyone says it all the time I know, but by crikey this year sure has flown by!
I began work on my labour of love almost a decade ago, yet still its nowhere near ready to show a publisher. This time last year it almost was, but the banking crisis had already made it necessary to re-write the first 2 chapters and then the unexpected Con-Dem government threw a spanner in the works big time.
Around September 2009, I stopped working on the book to concentrate on material for the General Election instead, which with the benefit of hindsight was a bad idea. Since May loads has occured which has prevented me getting back to the book, but now and with 2011 looming, I'm buckling down to the task I absolutely must complete.
You see, I dont think the 'powers that be' have made the slightest attempt to understand what went wrong for our country, and they sure as hell don't have any sort of a plan to get us out of this mess. I on the other hand believe our predicament is fully, even 'easily' explainable. We shouldn't be putting up with any crap at all, let alone being deluged with it from every angle and source. And I truly believe the country can be put back to rights. No seriously!
That anyway is what my book is all about and I'm very glad to report that a brand new Chapter 1 has just been completed. Chapter 2 is well underway and will be complete by the end of this coming week. I'm taking a week off in October when a revamped Chapter 3 will be put to rights, and at that point I'll start looking for a publisher. The rest is already written but needs a bit of shifting around and polishing.
By far the most frustrating feature of my life, is trying to find the way off the treadmil, in order to apply myself to writing properly. I cannot tell you how much I envy professional writers, able to spend all day every day, attacking their keyboards. How I long to do that!
I must admit to a pet hate... Having a grandson of 20 months that loves books, some of the nonsense produced for little ones of that age, gets right under my skin. I've got one by my side now. Its called "Igglepiggle, all aboard the ninky nonk". Page 1... "Everyone went for a bouncy ride in the ninky nonk" Page 2 "Hello Tombliboos! What are you doing today? Oh look it's the ninky nonk. Catch the ninky nonk Tombliboos!"
Thats crap isn't it? And to think some joker makes a living from writing such garbage, meanwhile I'm struggling to find the time necessary to write something meaningful and worthwhile. Ninky nonk my backside!
I began work on my labour of love almost a decade ago, yet still its nowhere near ready to show a publisher. This time last year it almost was, but the banking crisis had already made it necessary to re-write the first 2 chapters and then the unexpected Con-Dem government threw a spanner in the works big time.
Around September 2009, I stopped working on the book to concentrate on material for the General Election instead, which with the benefit of hindsight was a bad idea. Since May loads has occured which has prevented me getting back to the book, but now and with 2011 looming, I'm buckling down to the task I absolutely must complete.
You see, I dont think the 'powers that be' have made the slightest attempt to understand what went wrong for our country, and they sure as hell don't have any sort of a plan to get us out of this mess. I on the other hand believe our predicament is fully, even 'easily' explainable. We shouldn't be putting up with any crap at all, let alone being deluged with it from every angle and source. And I truly believe the country can be put back to rights. No seriously!
That anyway is what my book is all about and I'm very glad to report that a brand new Chapter 1 has just been completed. Chapter 2 is well underway and will be complete by the end of this coming week. I'm taking a week off in October when a revamped Chapter 3 will be put to rights, and at that point I'll start looking for a publisher. The rest is already written but needs a bit of shifting around and polishing.
By far the most frustrating feature of my life, is trying to find the way off the treadmil, in order to apply myself to writing properly. I cannot tell you how much I envy professional writers, able to spend all day every day, attacking their keyboards. How I long to do that!
I must admit to a pet hate... Having a grandson of 20 months that loves books, some of the nonsense produced for little ones of that age, gets right under my skin. I've got one by my side now. Its called "Igglepiggle, all aboard the ninky nonk". Page 1... "Everyone went for a bouncy ride in the ninky nonk" Page 2 "Hello Tombliboos! What are you doing today? Oh look it's the ninky nonk. Catch the ninky nonk Tombliboos!"
Thats crap isn't it? And to think some joker makes a living from writing such garbage, meanwhile I'm struggling to find the time necessary to write something meaningful and worthwhile. Ninky nonk my backside!
Friday, 3 September 2010
Fratenizing with the old enemy.
Of all the establishments political elements, the last I'd expect to betray our military independence and soverignty, would be the Tories. Nevertheless, David Cameron is now putting it about that we should throw our lot in with the French.
That is to say the country that shot good King Harold in the eye with an arrow. That has threatened us for a thousand years and cost hundreds of thousands of Englishmen their lives, in order to hold at bay. That shot dead our greatest ever hero Horatio Nelson. That collapsed days after the Nazis stormed across their borders. That sold to the Argentinians Exocet missiles after hostilities had broken out during the Falklands War. And now we're to share joint Navy's and Air Forces with these guys. What a f***ing joke!
That is to say the country that shot good King Harold in the eye with an arrow. That has threatened us for a thousand years and cost hundreds of thousands of Englishmen their lives, in order to hold at bay. That shot dead our greatest ever hero Horatio Nelson. That collapsed days after the Nazis stormed across their borders. That sold to the Argentinians Exocet missiles after hostilities had broken out during the Falklands War. And now we're to share joint Navy's and Air Forces with these guys. What a f***ing joke!
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