A day in East London

The moss growing between the roof slates, dank heavy clouds overhead, a drizzle of rain and a cold wind make a stroll down the East Ham street a bleak business. Row upon row of terraced houses, little brick enclosed portico's, no garden only the trees protected by the council, standing like sentinels along the pavement, a concession to nature.
The street is also lined with cars, some with badges which provide the resident, not a space to park only a reprieve from the ever watchful traffic attendant.
There is a stillness in this street, the people who live here are out at work, fearing to lose their parking space, they commute by bus and so the car is stationary until the weekend for a trip over to Aunty Maud's in Whitechapel. 
In the daytime there is no sense of confrontation. The people wandering around are either old or out of work, they too seek a quiet life but at night things change and it wasn't so long ago I arrived to find the street cordoned off by the police to investigate a murder.
From all walks of life in this East End melting pot, people from all over the world, from societies where life is cheap, who live cheek and jowl with others but have through necessity learnt to accept the isolation amongst many but who, can never the less, look after themselves.
A woman approached me begging for a pound to buy a ticket for the bus. She may have been genuine but most likely not, perhaps she is happy with a slug or two from the bottle store, no matter, the pound was the least I could contribute to the complexity of living in a concrete jungle.
 Come 4pm the roads get crowded, just in time for me to head home. First the A404 and then the M11 taking me up into the fields and open country of Bishops Stortford.  I thank my lucky stars to live in the environment that I do, the blend of countryside and a small market town where, within a short compass I can touch all manner of variables which keep the soul alive. A far, far cry from the depressing uniformity which is the East side of London.

Quota recognition

One of the greatest impositions in this  century is to be called a racist or sexist

To be accused of either is difficult, since the crowd shouts you down if you try to defend your position. Society at large having bought the argument hook line and sinker, anyone tainted is solidly decried and soon cast out into the wilderness. 

With the Awards season in full swing, (soon its the Oscars), the awards for Writers and Actors and Actresses who excel is under way . It seems to me that the fact that the film industry has a separate award for the male role and the female role speaks to the issue of the tussle which is fought every year, particularly by the feminist groups for the need to have more women nominated and by the Black Actors Guild, that more black people male and female should be in the running for the top awards.

This spread of dissatisfaction has now reached the writers and it is being argued that both Black and Female authors are under-represented and that a system of preferential voting should be adopted to right what is seen wrong.
When faced with the figures, the number of women coming forward to be nominated and the number of Black actors who also feel they are under represented seems to hinge on the fact that  less than a quarter in each category apply and therefore the well to draw from is less, seems to carry little relevance with their spokespeople.  When the feminist/racial flagship is under way and the wind of public approval is blowing up their skirts no amount of reasoning will dent their cry or cause. No amount of reasoned bookkeeping analysis will convince them that they aren't being discriminated against and their clammer, that we change the rules is as usual listened to by the craven rump of what used to be representative of White Male opinion. Even as I write the phrase, I feel a shiver as I anticipate the weight of condemnation for even voicing "our" position. 

Society is being asked to weight Black and Female applications to ensure that we have at the Academy prize giving that much sort after line up, a multi cultural, multi sex (including some wildly deviant cross dressers) multi hotchpotch which is what society has become cloned to admire.
The argument for weighted preference can only further distort our sense of value. The only criterion should be talent and nothing else, unless we wish to further eroded our belief in the system judgement.  If we continue to tinker, under pressure from people who's whole raison d'être is to plug a cause, then the outcome will only further entrench a sense of everything being rigged to sustain an ideological endgame.

The cause might have had some weight years ago but with the equal opportunity arguments won its now up to the individual to show their metal and win because they have the requisite talent and for no other reason.
Money and influence will always, as in all walks of life, give some people a leg up but I would have thought in the field of 'fine arts', talent is easily recognisable.

Rumours

When we hear rumours that the Free Masons are corruptible, that the Muslims are out to rule the world, that the Jews control world finance and pursue a Jewish agenda, that the Africans living in Africa are lazy, that women entice men just to fulfil their urge to have children, that fish can't fly and birds can't swim, that this form of prejudice is endemic and in part is the result of the plethora of stations and news sheets who's purpose is to entertain rather than inform.

Many people carry these stereotypes and are inclined to believe and form these opinions, labelling and tagging if for no other reason than "there can't be smoke, without fire".
But how much do we really understand about the forces in the world around us and how much of what we might like to understand is withheld, hushed up. We are prevented from finding answers because it is politically incorrect to ask. 

Our prejudice is often based on ill conceived preconceptions, arrive at by being gullible.

We believe without questioning, too afraid to contest a view because of pressure from our peers, too lazy to try to form our own opinion. Too busy to even think.

I wonder sometimes, this age were everyone is busy. "Busy doing nothing working the whole day through trying to find lots of things not to do. We're busy going nowhere isn't it just a crime we'd like to be unhappy but never do have the time".

The hours spent watching TV, not all of it wasted I grant you, especially if the programs are informative, educational or pure entertainment but imagine the time wasted watching the adverts. 

Adverts which are repeated every few minutes, their dreary receptive message on which, as you sit glued to the chair, you fixate, the mind freezes and you become to all intents and purposes a zombi.

I'm too busy to read. I'm too busy to walk. I'm just too busy.

Of course a single parent with two small children, struggling with 2/3 jobs hardly has time to breath and my heart goes out for them. They are busy in the act of survival but for most of us we have the time but we convince ourselves that only 'activity' is pure and wholesome, not being active is sloth and unwholesome. 

For me it's the activity that goes on between the ears that counts and whilst the adage "a healthy body leads to a healthy mind" has some truth in it, and the buzz of being fit, the endorphins and the adrenalin which stimulate the brain are all positive, it also seems to me that the training which starts when you are growing up, to be perceptive of your surroundings and of others around you is the building block for a busy mind. Without this perception, the need to know more about the "value" not just the price, is crucial to living successfully through every stage of your journey through this life.

"When life looks least like what it's supposed to look like , it may then be most like whatever it is".

The power of razzmatazz

We are agog at what is happening in the USA. How an ultra right wing demagogue Donald Trump seems to be running away with the Republican vote in his appeal to strong leadership and a kiss arse attitude. On the Democratic side, Bernie Saunders, an avowed socialist, something so rare in the US, a country which believes in small government, the very opposite to socialism has been running neck and neck with Hillary Clinton.

Both Saunders and Trump are seen as being part of an anti Establishment move which seems to be gaining lots of traction in America.
Listening to the C Span phone-in, the people ringing in, the ordinary voters have a fair share of disgruntled opinions regarding their view of the States and how its position has declined regarding the rest of the world. They are angry conservatives and want someone to shout for them, Trump is their man. 

The other group who also hate the Establishment and reflect  the grass roots vote coming from that demographic. Saunders has captured, the more thoughtful electorate who see the big C Capitalism rowing away from the population at large as jobs and wages drop whilst the rich become richer.
The people in America, (as we in this country), are prone to analysing everything from their self specific position with little regard for their neighbour. Many who came on the phone hate the Clintons seeing in them a glib self promoting act who, like Tony Blair managed to hoodwink us with the salesman's promise.
Of course democracy is its self on trial since "the people" just might elect Trump. I suppose the image of Ronald Reagan, a bit actor taking on the most powerful job in the world turned out in some ways the better hand since what he lacked in diplomacy he made up in a vision that said "we have the money let's be single minded and use it to bankrupt the Russians in the arms race"
We often are carried away by the issue of class. In America the Harvard educated rich family background which often becomes a dynasty is the norm and the assumed default position for putting our faith in leadership. Here in the UK its Eaton, Oxbridge and a first in Classics !
Listening to Boris Johnson with his Toffs accent and a clearly blessed opinion (when he can be persuaded to utter one) from so many in our Establishment and Commentariat one wonders if we haven't taken leave of our senses. Like Trump, for Boris it seems like a game where the importance of the work entailed in running a country are swamped by egos that are so large the light of day never impinges.
I am amazed by the gullibility of the British Public, to be sucked into celebrity culture and the suggestion that Boris Johnson could become Prime Minister, is made possible by the fervent churning of media attention. The man is not a fool, he's a comic. He plays himself to a tee from the hand ruffling his mane to his imbecilic childish grin and mocking turn of phrase on all matters of importance.
He is an embarrassment as he bumbles his way across the political stage especially so, when, as the Mayor of London he represented London in China, more with an image of a Shakespearian fool than a person to represent us as a political leader.
There again, he joins forces with Trump in being unsuited to have the interests of the common man at heart. The very reason democracy was invented, one man one vote each vote carrying the same weight of influence is being stood on its head by popularism and the power of money and razzmatazz.

Sixty seconds worth and distance run.

It's a conundrum which can't be answered. All the minutes and hours which have elapsed since we emerged howling into the world. All those minutes and all those missed opportunities !!
What would we have changed, or is the question academic since we were influenced by events rather than opportunity.
Looking back I often wonder how I got from here to there. There was no plan of action, no specific evaluation of what you were to do other than in the broadest of terms responding to things as they unfurled.
But what if it had been different, what if as Kipling says "you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of distance run" how would life have panned out.

I was watching a film made about the lifestyle of a rich stock market trader and how his day is made up of jetting around the world, holding conferences and spending his life in 5 star hotels. The essence was on making money and look what money can buy. 
Watching, I wasn't impressed by its frenetic pace, or, "its 'New York' it must be 'Thursday" message. The Hurley Burley man, rushing around knowing the price of everything but the value of nothing, at least in the philosophical sense, since he seemed fixated on the mollycoddled lifestyle of scotch and canapés and the interminable sameness of hotel living.
If, as you set out on life's journey you had an agenda to make every minute count you would be consumed by the passage of time and the ticking clock. Every achievement would be qualified as simply a notch on the road as you moved to your next appointment with your own 'contrived' destiny.
Mr Bumble, that's me. Not knowing which side of the road I'm on or which direction the traffic is flowing makes life a rich series of chance happenings. Nothing too important that it can't be avoided, nothing too special that if something else were to crop up I'd do it. Life in other words remains a mystery not an event. If success came along it was even more special since it wasn't planned and if failure happened then it was no special deal since one hadn't planned it or put too much hope on the outcome. It's a bit like taking part in an out of body event watching yourself and reflecting on the small nuggets of pleasure which are amplified because you hadn't expected them. You set off with something in mind and end up at a different place doing something you hadn't even thought about but still reflecting on how mystical this life can be if you open up to it.

A question of degrees

Ever wondered why the most popular TV programs are not your own favourites. 

The antique road show and their cousin the bric a brac auction where "tat" is offered for sale and prices are quoted for piles of rubbish. Another popular series are the cooking shows, where  virtually every day there is a celebrity chef doing his thing titivating our over extended stomachs to try more.

House buying is another boring way to pass your time as glamorous, pseudo estate agents pass banal commentary from room to room repeated from house to house program to program. They make even the second hand car salesman sound glamorous.

The cops squaring up to the drunken imbeciles who populate our town centres. Shows depicting the poor in all their decrepit glory. And the ever popular 'escape to another country' where the sunshine and beaches will be the balm to make you happy.

But other than the last which is pure escapism, why do we rate and watch this banal mind -boggling sameness, week in week out.
Why is the Jeremy Kyle show and the equally hideous Big Brother, both shows showing people at there worst, egged on to further exhibit even more outlandish behaviour. 

Have we progressed no further than the Roman amphitheatre where slaves were pitted against wild animals or the Edwardian peep shows were people used to pay to gawk at deformity.
What is it in our make up that turns to the outright ungracious.

I suppose It is ridiculous to carp at the programs shown on our TV when, on another channel, the dreadful scenes of the bombardment of Aleppo brings home how lucky we are to live here.

Our loss

The sight of the Flying Scotsman steaming across the 'Ribblehead Viaduct' brought tears of emotion as one reflected how we have thrown away our past glory. This lump of machinery is a living example of the skills that used to exist and have been allowed to decay in a few decades as we lost our senses and took the easy route, like a hopeless gambler in the banking  casino.
From motor cars to railway locomotion, from cloth to porcelain someone decided that our hard won skills were of no value, rather a flutter on the movement of the price of a currency was where our future lay.
It has always been the case that interim generations absorb defeat and create new opportunities. But as one who grew up used to seeing a map of the world, covered in red signifying our influence, who on his travels saw the heavy machinery made in the workshops and factories based across this small island, who could travel through the cities and see the architecture repeated, city after city a footprint of our achievement across the world it's hard to listen to the politicians praising our last and only commercial enterprise, the retail shops who supply this consumer mad society. It's like watching a mouse on a wheel rushing nowhere. Where do we get the cash to spend on products we have to import if we don't export and gain earnings ourselves.
Borrowing on near to zero interest rates can only last until the rates go up and we see how really bankrupt we are.
The opportunity to borrow to invest in educating our youngsters in skills for jobs so that we could complete the orders for tasks that are needed world wide. If we as a nation had taken the opportunity to modernise our working environment and taught management the value in their company lay in the skills and the interface between shop floor and the executive. If we had understood that the human wastage which goes on generation after generation is not only scandalous but erodes the fabric of our nation into a two tier affair where the better off lampoon the poor with TV programs depicting Benefit Recipients as cretins.

Misandry

Did you know that whilst "misogyny" is a term often used towards men who criticise  women, the term that  describes a women who has strong reservations about men, "misandry" is virtually unknown.

Terms are often used these days to throw up a smokescreen, obscuring a reasonably argued criticism by stigmatising the people who have something to say.
Terms which when used, simply close down the conversation because of the 'inference' that you are supporting an extremist view, which in the "politically correct fringe" is deem heresy. 
Terms such as racist and homophobic are guaranteed to close an argument down irrespective of how objective the discussion can be and it is a powerful tool in dumbing down discussion.
But it struck me that the term, misandry, which describes the phenomenon of women who have a down on men, is so little used in commentary and says a lot about the gender who do not feel threatened by the sound of their own inflated sense of importance. 

"Men" get on with adapting to their changing circumstances and not whinging about it.

Women, who like men recognise the difference in gender outlook, both culture and emotional, (never mind the hormones), exacerbate and magnify the reaction ! 

The responses from either sex, to a whole range of issues is often different. God bless the difference, but the need to weight the argument with a blanket criticism, using a term which intellectually has its roots in extreme, dated, cultural conditions, should never be used as a form of censorship 
Is this yet again an example of the obsessive nature of women towards men, this lack of a frequently used term to describe the phenomena.

History is full of stories of the 'whiles' of women who seduce men to self destruction. The physical strength of men, whilst protecting them from physical danger, is ill equipped to prevent deeper emotional distress the sort that Cleopatra, Aphrodite and a host of others, including Mary from Number 43 inflicted on the male psyche !!! The Greeks have many stories of the betrayal by the female of the male in an era when it was "not" deemed immoral to classify the species as special but different. Today we have lost the balance of judgement and instead are swayed by the pressure of that subtle host, which even the Spartans would blanch at as an opponent.

Trident

Rhetoric is a powerful weapon. Listening to a debate on the use of Trident, the applause was greatest when the wish for a better world was linked to disarmament. It's a wish that has carried the hope of so many good minded people.
The belief that mankind is represented by our own good intentions is seriously challenged by the sight of ISIS chopping off heads or the sabre rattling from the geeky head of North Korea but people continue to see others in their own light.
People are persuaded in matters such as this. They have no way of knowing the facts, there is no way of defining the dangers, other than reaching back into the historical context.
War used to be between nations supported by diplomacy, having treaties with other nations and undertaken when the national economic effort had produced an arsenal to fight with.
Today the nations who would have been 'watched' in the past are members of an established Global experiment which has to a large extent, minimised 'nationalism' and boarder expansion.
Of the nuclear nations.
USA is streets ahead of everyone else.
Russia has its Cold War armament to fall back upon and has been spending a massive amount on modernisation.
China is an unknown in so far as it has nuclear weapons or the effect of its enormous economic clout could make on its acquisition, but historically is not known for having ambitions outside its boarders.
India and Pakistan are both subject to domestic politics and a religious divide but don't seem to have much interest in issues outside their collective boarders.
France has resolutely stayed in the game, not only in continuing to hold nuclear weapons but in the lead it has maintained in the domestic nuclear industry both design and production.
Israel has, with American blessing its own nuclear system which given the volatility of the Middle East and the countries around it which hate its guts, one could see a position that when threatened with total annihilation it could fire off its missiles in the hope that the promised land in the afterlife would be some sort of compensation.
The UK has reduced its nuclear arsenal to a shadow of what it was. We no longer have nuclear bombs which can be dropped by aircraft, there is no land-based missile delivery system, and we  have relinquished the tactical nuclear weapons used on the battlefield. The last and only nuclear weapon is the Trident platform where we provide, 'American weapons' with the stealth that a submarine brings. We can't fire it unless the Americans agree but kid ourselves that we have some sort of deterrent.
In a volatile world where cultures threaten our own it is important to feel that we aren't impotent when it comes to standing up to bullies. Having the headmaster on your side is useful but when he changes his own allegiance you need to have practised martial arts to feel you can protect yourself . The universal disarmament brigade fasten their banner to a world where there are no bullies and disagreement can be negotiated. Unfortunately the world is not made up of rational human brings and we have to provide the ultimate answer to the bully, bugger off or I will thump you back.
Trident as costly as it is,does not provide the answer to the bully but at least it makes him think twice before he starts.

Dads and sons, a modern dilemma

I was drawn to consider and of course comment, on the difficulty some children have with their respective parents when the parent interacts with the "other half".

I will begin by apologising for generalising when I suggest that Dad's walk a tight rope if and when they  try interacting with their sons mate. The son is invariably the one to suffer. 

Men always the consensus seeker if and when a serious argument or disagreement crops up, anything for a quiet life, and more to the point knowing the explosive nature of his partner is usually unwilling to risk serious upheaval for the sake of an argument in which he knows he is right anyway !

The difficulty is with the 'Dad' who oblivious to the problem, seeks 'clarification' without fear of reprisal. 

"Can I speak to her" sends a shiver up the spine of his son, what will he say to upset her and taking me ages to secure peace . "Is she there" persists Dad, confident of his powers of persuasion, sure of his facts and used to getting his way he ploughs on, "I just want a word".

Of course the seasons have changed the landscape. Men these days are more likely to display accommodation when it comes to "interests". 

He has put aside his 'season ticket' for a visit to the shopping mall, his knowledge of Brands Hatch and how to get there is superseded by an intimate knowledge of nappy rash and the school run. His penchant for a cops and robber flick is more likely to inch towards a romantic "she got her man" movie and he has recently been sequestered to the lead role in the kitchen. Politics is verboten and the news is domestic.  "Will little Harry have another baby sister", rather than a debate about the price of leaving Euro Land.

We are, as the suggestion goes from different planets with different orbits and only when proximity and gravity work in harmony does the force field produce the goods (another Henrietta).

The difficulty lies with the boy who has some gender characteristics, characteristics which seem to be so prevalent in his Dad but, through the efforts of Pavlov and others have broken the surety men had as 'hunter gathers' and who would these days rather meekly submit to the feminist agenda.

Salaam aleikum

The world of the large and the small, of the fast and the slow  and the quick and the dead.
We are conditioned to the systems in place around us and  it tends to blind us to other communities and other ways of living.
Opening our mind through travel is supposed to be revealing but often the way we travel and the communities we mix with in our travels limits us, like the tortoise carrying his home on his back into a slow regurgitation of what we had left behind.
Walking across Afghanistan, Rory Stuart (now MP) describes a remarkable and brave attempt to discover the real Afghanistan, particularly its people and the tribal makeup of the country.
Afghanistan a country which has fought off the most powerful armies in the world. The British in the 1800s, the Russians in the 1980s and the Americans from then onwards, has been the sanctuary for Al-Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden (an international Muslim Jahid) and the Taliban (a localised Afghanistan Muslim Jahid) who rose to power after the Russians left but were driven out of the main centres of the country by the American invasion.  In and amongst these players were the War Lords, the mujahideen and their followers, the communities in the villagers.
To understand Afghanistan one has to turn conventional (Western) thinking on its head and evaluate, not from a central governance point of view but from the ties of local allegiance rather than the state. To see this inversion of what we in the West regard as the modal for the State one has to get up close to the people. Not the people in the cities like Kabul but the people who live in this mountainous country where mountain passes split communities into waring factions and governance is roughly the 'Sharia' defined by the Mullah and the village elders.
In a dangerous and physically demanding journey this Westerner did what few have done, he relied on the grace of the Mohammedan instinct to provide rough sanctuary for the traveller.

Salaam aleikum (peace be with you). Manda na Bashi ( May you not be tired ), Waleikum Salaam (And also with you ). The ritual greeting and affirmation between men signified a bond of respect and shared humanity towards each other, no matter how poor or destitute, the hospitality was ingrained in the custom of the society. 

Stewart walked from Herat to Kabul in the footsteps of the Mogul Emperor Babur, (in the 1500s) through the snow with his wild dog who he named Babur. It's a touch and go journey in which alone he surrendered his fate to people along the way, walking from one "territory" to the next which could be hostile or welcoming, only time would tell.
His overriding impression was of a grudging responsibility towards the traveller on foot in which no matter how strained the budget no matter how little food was available it was shared as a matter of Koranic commitment.
The strength of the people lay in their religion and the grouping of neighbours into clans which would come together and support each other. With such strong affiliations central government is a poor cousin being sufficiently outside the family to be largely ignored !

Scripture and Hadith

It's all in the interpretation.
As in most things we interpret what we hear and what we see by modifying things to fit our own interpretation. And so you have interpretation piled on interpretation such that the original preposition is lost.

 The Bible and the Koran are scripture or revelations which are handed down through the spoken word and then interpreted by scholars who define meaning through their own perception of what was meant. Any telling of a story gains embellishment by the teller, who's understanding of what he has heard or read is influenced by the persons background and education. Education can get in the way of any 'homily' by reading too much into the message and intellectually contriving issues that were not present when the story first broke.

The Koran like the Bible seems to be both clear and controversial, depending on who, or in which context it is being quoted. Deep hostility is generated by a set of wrong headed presumptions which we often bring to anything which has a component of 'faith based interpretation' in it.
To the non believer even the starting point is wrong and creates a 'disconnect' between the value of what is said or written. If there is a 'truth' revealed in scripture, perhaps, as non believers we should rejoice that some sort of definitive value has been reached, no matter how circuitous the human connection by which it arrives
One of the issues a non-believer has with organised religion is the pressure put on the human being to accept or be damned.
In some ways it seems almost fascist to preach in such a totalitarian way, demanding absolute subservience to an idea ! The 'truth' of that idea is after all obscured until after death when no one can confirm or deny whether God exists but we, on this side of the great divide,are left  firmly with Hobson's choice, heavily weighted by its prescription.
In both the Koran and the Bible there are contradictions which scholars tussle over as to the meaning and the intent. Given that at the time they were handed down as "Gods word" and only a tiny number of people were literate, the stories must have seemed like a lectures in pure magic !!

The scandal of unpaid taxes

It a horrible sight to see our Business Secretary, Sijid  Javid defending the large multinational companies such as Google, regarding the insignificant amount they pay towards the tax system. 

One would have thought a senior representative of the department, gifted the job of controlling our finances would have been more vociferous in damming the fact that some companies in the UK pay no Company Tax, others with huge balance sheets pay only a few thousand pounds in relation to their turnover.

When he openly hides behind the statement,  "I am not aware", on matters which are clearly part of his brief as Business Secretary one has to worry at the polished obscuration which politicians use as a snake sheds its skin, regarding questions which we the public have right to know.

We have a right to know because our finances have been at the forefront of policies design to limit the Exchequers monetary burden towards the public in the services Government offer society, particularly the poor and least able to defend themselves, the Benefit Claimants, who now have to squeeze through ever reducing hoops to obtain any assistance.

 One wishes that Google and Amazon along with the largest Investment Banks, JPMorgan, Bank of America, Marrill Lynch, Deutsch Bank (each of which paid no corporation tax at all) and the huge conglomerates in Britain who paid little or no corporation tax in 2014, the likes of Shell, Vodafone, Glaxo Smith Kline, would be required, like my little 'two bit' company, to pay 20% !!

The right wing media has for years denigrated the poor, the unemployed, the disabled but never the rich and well heeled companies. No mention of this scandal surfaced until the negotiations with Google were finalised and people from the left and the right were outraged at the poultry sum they were asked to pay.

A two tier nation in virtually everything we now see the Conservatives in their true colours, unhindered by the constraints of coalition they can and will pursue a radical overhaul of the country and its values. Capitalism in its most raw unfettered form will flourish.

Counting the cost

It's that time of the year again ! Having spent twelve months industriously working away producing widgets or supplying a service, the moment has come to surrender the "books" to the Receiver".

No matter how hard you worked no matter how creative you were in providing something to sell all is subsumed by the accounts and the importance the accountant and the bookkeeper attach to their role in your business. 

They are never around when the machinery breaks down or your client needs his ego massaged. They are tucked up in bed when the rain lashes down as you drive through the dark wet streets heading towards a cold draughty building site at seven am, or crawling through a loft operating a piece of machinery, milking the cows, sitting astride the tractor in all weathers, waiting for a delivery to stock the shop or coffee bar at a time when there are still two to three hours before daylight.  All this activity means little or nothing as the 'invoices' and the 'cheque book' take on a life of their own, as if "they" were the business.

Every year we submit ourselves to the agony of the 'year end account' but in reality that is only what it is, an "account" of the hours and effort you have put in throughout the year. This paper trail is nothing more than a record of a real time event.

The reason our bookkeeper/accountant rise to the top of the pile and dictate events, making life a misery, is that the accounts are part of the bureaucratic reach into our pockets which the Government make through the offices of Her Majesties Revenue & Customs. It's interesting that HMRC are distinct from the government, historically they collect on behalf of the Crown.

The detailed trail and the enormous cost to business is to ensure that the "tribute" to the Crowns coffers is bountiful and accurate. 

Bountiful and accurate that is unless you are a global multinational company. In this instance the boot is on the other foot and the Exchequer has to negotiate, with a poor hand, how much the multinational is prepared to pay. On transactions worth billions of pounds, over a ten year period, Google offered 130 million (about 3%) which everyone, other than George Osborn the Chancellor thought derisory.

My own paper trail, including the petrol slips found down the back of the chair has been concluded. The Bookkeeper has retired for another year and the Accountant is currently waving his magic wand over where and into which column this or that goes.

 It's a smoke and mirrors industry which has ballooned up over the last twenty or thirty years, particularly, since the advent of the Global Economy, to cover the tracts of the syndicates and the merger rich. London has become the capital for laundering (hiding) dirty money and the property market in London is inflated out of the reach of the ordinary Londoner  by illicit money, particularly the Russians, (who asset stripped their own country) and the Middle Eastern oil sheikhdoms who fearing the upheaval in the Middle East have made massive investment into properties and established high end brands, such that we are, in reality now owned by the people we exploited and denigrated (WOPS) in the middle of the last century.  

Far from being illicit or powerful,  small business is an easy target. This is the time of year to expect HMRC claiming that wedge of cash you thought was yours and had put aside for a holiday this year, the one you missed out on last year, oh and the year before that !!!

Civilisation

We are what our past made us.

Does the intellectual magnificence of the French Revolution and the concept Liberty, Equality and Fraternity,which, in the France of the 1789 - 1790, was so off the scale that it laid an imprint on French mentality ever since. Does the 'insularity' of the English and their ability for 'compromise', define every Englishman.

 

Does the Holocaust define the Israeli, and their arrogance  and brutality towards the Arab, mimic the arrogance and brutality meted out to the inmates of 'the camps'.

Are we all caught up in a 'time warp' looking back over our shoulder for relevance and guidance.

It's dangerous to take too much succour from the past but of course it's equally dangerous to ignore it since so much of our emotional make up was formed then. When the guide lines were clear and we hadn't developed such a hatred for "national identity", wishing  instead for a multicultural, multinational definition to unify the members of the human race.
It seems that the Middle East is proving us wrong. From the start of the 'Arab Spring' and the loosening of the Dictatorial ties, in preference for democracy  there has been the mother of a disagreement between a myriad local factions who have little or no understanding of the term "collective" which is fundamental to anything with the prefix "multi" attached.
We seem to have descended back into that primordial soup where savagery was the rule and civilised modes of thinking hadn't been invented.
I suppose the answer is in the term 'invented'. Perhaps civilisation is just a construct of diplomacy, a ruse to deceive the masses that those in power have our interests at heart when in reality, power is far too strong an instinct to let go of easily.

Come wind or storm

As the wind batters the coast of Wales and 'Imogen' bears her teeth, reminding society of the force of nature, I am trapped with the 'Bridge' back into England closed to traffic.

Watching the trees bend over near to breaking point whipping around in the 80 mph wind, the garden fence visibly moving as the gusts pummel it, I think shopping is on hold for the day.

Is the abnormally warm winter and the wild storms generating their strength and anger in mid-Atlantic a sign of global warming or is nothing more than our short memory forgetting the time it happened before.
It's the business of 24 hour news to expand on a story, to create legs for it to run and fill the hours of air time and so we see, on our screens every facet of the storm, every occasion that was deemed worthy for the TV crew to turnout, every bit of trauma and tragedy.
Is it any wonder we are a frayed lot watching the financial market go bottom up whilst the human tragedy of Syria is constantly on our screen. The invasion of Europe has been replaced by something else but under laying it all is the fragility of our way of life written large.
Of course in a secure well heated house one could be forgiven for banishing the tele and any news of the outside world. It's doubtful if the hordes will beat a path to our door or the bankrupt banks and their investors will replicate Cyprus or Greece.
One only has to have faith in the chimney pot staying upright as we shelter in that last haven of peace, a mortgage free home.

The Mad Hatters Tea Party

The trick politicians have for finding and expanding a weaknesses in Opposition Policy whilst ignoring the damage which a refusal to act on an issue brings, makes the man and woman in the street question their motives. 

They rely on 'facts', but the source of these 'facts', even the substance of any 'facts' which the politician uses to substantiate a course of action or alternatively demolishing a course of action and maintaining the status quo is so buried in contention and contradiction that we wonder, like Alice at the Mad Hatters Tea Party as to our sanity.
Smoke and mirrors is a phrase used to describe the obfuscation practised by our political class as they pursue the policy diktat. Nothing is off the scale when the need is politically designated.
Reasonable objectives which would benefit the population in general, such as an affordable 'house building' program are lost in hyperbole, exaggerate claims which are known to be dishonest.
Honesty itself seems to be regarded as an old fashioned trait which has lost its appeal in the hurly burley of modern life. The end is worth any means even if the end is to disenfranchise the voter, the taxpayer, the citizen the very people the politicians was elected to serve.
Is it any wonder that the glib well worn phrases used in nearly every interview make one want to vomit. 

Just as the 'adverts' in a media campaign are a "construct" to encourage a belief that what the salesmen is saying is true, a construct which in our hearts we know is a con, then the same disbelief is rampant when we hear the politician speak.
But we seem to be in a blind.  Unable to avoid having to rely on these clearly fallible human beings to help us negotiate our lives we have nowhere else to turn given the system of Parliamentary democracy under which we are governed.  The type of person who wishes to become a Politician, who rise to offer their services to society, are equally prone to take advantage of our situation.
This is made far worse when society elevates these people by awarding them status, immunity and a fat pension for life.

Don't you know your place

The thought came to mind, listening to Jeremy Hunt making a Statement to the House of Commons regarding the pay and conditions for Junior Doctors working in the NHS, how could the "ordinary" person in this country believe that they "deserve" the same medical service as "we" expect, the expression, "don't they know their place" comes to mind. 

The Doctors have been up in arms in their negotiation with Jeremy Hunt regarding his deliberate obfuscation of the facts governing not only the contract but the effect on the doctors by the long hours they are expected to work. 

Jeremy Hunt has form. In his previous job he was given a quasi legal position to oversee the negotiations regarding the merger of Rupert Murdock's media empire into further consolidation of his company in Britain. Whilst the negotiations were proceeding, he was supposed to be aloof from the parties but it was discovered that he had had substantive talks with Murdock's son James, who was leading the Murdock's team and had broken the legal trust given to him.
Lying is an un-attractive art form, along with bullying and he, along with his predecessor Andrew Lansley have used both as they are hell bent on privatising the NHS. The Conservative Party has been rowing back from the moment that Aneurin Bevin proposed the formation of the National Health Service, "free at the point of need" in 1947. The eyes of the medical supply environment have been "watering" for years, waiting to get their claws into the body of the taxpayer funded organisation. Slowly but surely 'private enterprise' has been introduce into many levels of the Health Service and one fears that this insistence on a contract, drawn up by government and rejected by the doctors will only lead to doctors leaving to go overseas whilst encouraging doctors from countries which would not under normal circumstances be invited to come here to practice, will now be encouraged en mass to fill the holes which are created as our rigorously trained indigenous trainees move away to jobs overseas. And for those who don't go, could you imagine a more dangerous circumstance than to be looked after by people who feel aggrieved and under valued.  

Of course it won't effect Jeremy or Andrew or David or George they have Private Medical care and even more important, "connections". No the impact will be on the ever increasing rump of this country who's position under this government is made increasingly evident as each bill in Parliament is passed.

The Conservatives will never be able to roll back the years to their hey day, the pre 1940 period but they will make as good a fist of the job as their segregated minds can envisage, given the weak conformist mindset that makes up the bulk of the electorate.

 I suppose we must just "suck it up"

Through the prism of Buddhism

I was somewhat disappointed, although on reflection I shouldn't have been, listened to a Buddhist monk, on to this mornings TV program The Big Question, calmly describing and evaluating his beliefs in the face of people, also guests on the show  who are the antithesis of 'self' discovery and who felt  that personal immersion in all of Societies woes was the proper thing to do to help humanity.
The question was, "can we be at one with humanity and its troubles if we follow what it was suggested, is a disconnect by concentrating on ones own inner self".
His approach, of making himself, as an individual a better person through the study of "self" by the use of meditation and self analysis and so, (it could be argued), collectively improving the world by the sum total of one, was in stark contrast to the fervour of the religious preacher or the charity worker who sets out each day to build or knock down walls in their effort to help others.
The question arises "is Buddhism selfish"? 

One understands the 'peace of mind' which is attained and how this image can act as a role model for others but is this a secondary effect rather than the 'hands on' healing of societies woes and was 'direct action' not more useful.

One could see the Monk was not up for a verbal fight  he had reached his enlightenment the hard way and it was not in his make up to get into a fight as to who was best. The oft quoted proverb "he who makes the most noise is assumed to be right" was not in his vocabulary, he was not in a contest, he was above all that and would speak to his own knowledge not that of others. 

It was also noticeable that as one of a number sitting on the front row waiting his turn to be asked for his contribution he looked neither to the left or right. It was if he was in his own space and didn't need confirmation of anyone else as the discussion progressed.
It seems as if this is what self analysis does. It provides an arena of thought in which external noise is excluded and bickering over political methodology becomes pointless. Of course it could also have denoted a lack of worldliness or concern, even a sense of superiority.
Perhaps the Buddhist "side" of the debate should have been represented by the Buddhist Nun, Australian Robina Curtin who appears in so many of the videos on YouTube. 

She takes no prisoners in the rough and tumble of debate and her quick mind still has enough of the "worldly" karma to respond to "worldly" concerns.

Israel / Palastine

Sorry to go on but I'v just started another book by Philip Roth in which he develops a strange conjunction,  meeting someone exactly like himself who purports to be him.
This literary concoction allows a number of contrived discussions to take place which normally aren't available to us in the normal course of our life and it offers a fascinating interrogation of that persona we know as ourself.
Imagine being able to interrogate yourself, compare , and reveal the worst in yourself by this fictional mirror. Hubristic without doubt but if you have enough confidence to shine a light on your soul then the exercise must have merit.

The book is about his Jewishness and the contradictions of being a Jew in the comfort and security of growing up in the USA compared to living in Israel and closing ranks on much of the world in an effort to protect what you see as your birthright. The diaspora, the pogroms and especially the holocaust have created a victim mentality in which the Israeli feels it within its rights to justify and do what ever is necessary to stay in Israel. He metes out brutality in the knowledge that history is on his side. The brutality shown by the Nazi and others, let alone the attempt to exterminate the Jews has given the leadership in Israel a sort of moral blank sheet in which their suffering expunges the suffering of, for-instance, the Arabs in Palestine. 

Roth argues the case from a number of angles, all of them jewish in an attempt to explain the dilemma a nation founded on religion (Gods chosen people) finds itself today.
Part of his argument is that the Israeli has distorted the Jewish mission, a return from the Exodus and that the only way is to re emigrate back into a benevolent world, places such as modern Europe and of course the USA where their skills and genius are needed.
The assumption is that in Israel/Palestine there can be no solution other than higher walls and greater brutality until someone, in a messianic fit of madness pushes the nuclear option.

The fury of tittle tattle

I'm at it again, sitting in the corner of the 'Coach and Horses' watching !!!
There are more women, by a ratio of five to one and it strikes me as another measure of the gender revolution since, when I was growing, up women would always be accompanied by a man when they came to eat in a  restaurant but not actually paying the bill. It was unheard of for a women to pay the bill, even to share the cost of the meal but having recently dined out with my daughter, I had to 'arm-wrestle' her to pay.
Emancipation is one thing but there is one area of human behaviour where women glow with supreme entitlement. Wearing a small child on her hip,she proclaims to the world, the gold medal of her own achievement, the apple of her eye and in the case in front of me now,her granddads eye.

Of course you could, if you were cynical, compare it to lugging a sack of potatoes around and whilst Granddad is in his element seeking the little madams attention, Grandma is not so satisfied as she mentally compares her previous role in situations like this and can't help herself from wishing to be in charge and to handle things differently !

The younger waitresses speed around like ferrets on speed compared to a much older waitress who drifts in and out in a more homely fashion. Waitressing in a world like this is a competitive business and I wonder, as I watch the old "didi", like a Ford Popular, competing with high torque, ultra silent Nissan Leafs, if she shouldn't at some stage be put out to pasture.
I'v mentioned it before but women, at the dinner table, released from male company, are turbo charged when it comes to conversation. The unflagging the stories roll off their lips, accompanied by shrieks of laughter. Their world is one of "communion" and years of pent up social containment behind lace curtains is released in a fury of tittle tattle.

The peace we all yearn

How important is communication.
We take the ability to communicate for granted. We discuss things with our partners and  friends with our workmates and the shop assistant and from each we get a dialog which is different but provides us with psychological sustenance, mental nourishment which helps keep us sane.
Some people are always entertaining, always engrossed in arranging contact with friends, and family. It brings them great happiness a feeling of being joined up, sharing not only of their lives but the journey each other person is making.
Isolation is supposed to be bad for anyone. The solitary isolation cell in a prison is a form of punishment over and above having your Liberty taken away from you since the idea of being on your own is deemed punishment.
People throughout their lives are usually in constant contact, the busy person is usually the one in greatest demand like a bee drawn to honey, the sheer activity of the busy person makes them attractive if for no other reason than we are attracted by their frenetic lifestyle seeing in it, some sort of glamour in being busy and needed.
Life's stages takes one eventually through to a shakedown period when you retire and whilst many people not only retain their lifestyle they even increase the things they do on the basis that now they can, they feel they should. The clock after all is running.
I was watching a program of a woman somewhere in South Africa who takes in orphaned animals and try's to rehabilitate them for release into the wild. She had a menagerie of intriguing animals but the one closest to her heart was a young sloth which seemed even more exposed to danger simply because it was so slow to react and seemed so vulnerable.

Slow and vulnerable is a good description of the average over 80 year old, coping as best they can in a diminishing circle of friends and opportunities.

This lack of meaningful contact is a condition we all have to cope with, unless of course we get knocked down by a number 95 bus. One begins with old age to evaluate your own ability to entertain and keep yourself not only occupied but mentally on top of things so that you are, happy with the company you keep, yourself. 

Our lives are made up of minuets in and hour, hours in a day and days in a year and what we choose to do with that "time" is up to us and is personal. It's not the same for everyone but there is often criticism of the way we independently choose to spend our time. 

There are those who view time as precious and those for whom time is a drag. The importance we attach to our lives and the way we choose to live them describes our sense of self being and the value we put on our actions is graded as if more action was in some way more desirable since it was a measure of how we valued ourselves within society. The 'do nothing' is inferior to the 'do everything' and throughout our lives we have been pressed into believing that a busy life was a successful life. 

Not having 'any contact' has its own attraction of course. There is no deceit in dealing with yourself, no play acting, no dressing up. The silence is only broken by your own 'thoughts' and if you are the only one actually interested enough to try to understand them perhaps it's better to be alone. 

Anyone who has been there knows that the silence of the desert is delicious. It is almost felt even tasted and the impression it creates stays for a lifetime. It heightens the senses and sharpens the instincts, it focuses your attention on 'yourself in relation to your surroundings', it brings things into focus. The noise is turned down, the jangling is stilled aa you get nearer to the peace we all yearn.

The Referendum gets closer

What is the latest state of play regarding the European Referendum negotiations in Europe by the Prime Minister with the other European Statesmen regarding what he see as, both the burdens imposed on us financially and the inherent interference that Europe can impose on virtually all of our decisions in law, human rights and employment decisions which then effect business.
Now that's a big mouthful and our natural default position would be, "I don't need any bloody foreigner to tell me how to run my affairs". 

The only problem it seems to me is that we are ourselves a 'two tier' country and whilst we hate Johnny Foreigner we must also recognise that the "Establishment" in this country are often as foreign to the man in the streets best interests as are the people sitting in Brussels. In fact I would go so far as to suggest that our Business Orientated, Capitalistic, Elitist, Etonian Establishment are more like the Americans with their neo-capitalistic program of excluding the human element in their pursuit of profit.

Far from following the humanitarian approach posited by Europe with an agenda for fair wages and proper working conditions, plus a legal system which also considers the poor, not just the wealthy, Europe reflects many aspects of behaving in a civilised fashion, governed by the concept of 'human rights' (possibly over governed). Instead we seem hell bent on following the Washington Consensus which, at its root proclaims "everyone for themselves", the rest can go to hell.
Of course every nation, every individual has problems in accepting directives which emanate from others who they feel are interfering and with whom there is no common bond. But isn't that what we do every day, in this country, governed by a specific section of society, a cabal, united in their own special interests, a tiny minority who time and time again are placed in positions of power by birth.

How far has true democracy progressed. 

The voting system is skewed to minimise that large constituency of voters in the cities, giving the leafy shires just as much say with a much smaller electorate. 

A schooling system which differentiates, at birth as how affluent and powerful you will be, irrespective of talent. 

It's no different to living in a foreign land if you live in the North and you might as well join forces with the people in Brussels who actually  have your interests at heart, not just a set of words in a party election manifesto.

To seed powers to Europe would, for the majority in this country be no bad thing, once you put the jingoism aside. Does a German or an Italian feel the need to wear his national identity on his chest or has he progressed to a more advanced stage in his search for Liberty,Equality,Fraternity 

No more Kitcheners pointing a finger at the masses and declaring "Your country needs you" and then sending them to die in their millions for a series of diplomatic blunders.

No more George Osborn's or Iain Duncan Smith's riding roughshod over those sections of society they think don't matter.  The rules are conceptualised by a broader section of humanity coming from many backgrounds other than those schooled in the segregated, antediluvian, elitist, hot house of Eaton College, situated by no quirk of coincidence, not a couple of cricket fields away from Windsor Castle, that other seat of English idiosyncratic custom.

Culture and custom are useful in seeing where we have come from but are not a necessary yardstick for the future !!

Referendum issues

We the British are largely an emotional lot and whilst there are those who are pragmatic about most things, the sight of Martin Schutz the German President of the EU dictating to us if the EU will or will not help in David Cameron's mission to wring some changes to the benefits which incoming refugees can expect from our Benefit System is a bitter pill to swallow.

There is a lingering resentment in our psychology, (at least amongst the older generation), that we don't like having to acknowledge a German calling the shots. Who won the war and all that !!

Of course, in part, that horse, the proud industrious Brit, has bolted since many of our traditional symbols of British workmanship are now fully owned and amalgamated into foreign companies.  

Rolls Royce and Bentley are examples, E-on the utility group and the iconic London bus, all German. 50% of British Business is owned by foreigners. Boots the Chemist is Italian, ICI is Dutch, Cadbury American, the Steel Industry Indian, our Nuclear Industry France and recently China, Asda USA, P&O Dubai, British Airports Spain,even the Lottery owner is Canadian. All the major Hotels in London are foreign owned, our flagship shops such as Harrods and Debenhams, Selfridges even the Dorchester is foreign.  

And so as we continue to flog off the 'silver' to balance the books we fail to recognise that the ex British companies, now registered overseas, have their profits taxed overseas which minimises our tax revenue, we loose millions which further encourages more silver to be sold to balance the books. Any Benefit claimant will describe the process. The only beneficiaries are the Banks who handle each financial sale and of course our Establishment are slave to the banks in our indebtedness to the financial markets who accept or reject our ability to borrow. 

So what is it that this "hollowed out nation" has to loose in being amalgamated with some of its owners. Jingoism, flag waving, xenophobia are all traits which are not attractive.
Can we grow up and understand the world in which we proudly played such an important role and which I believe we should be rightly proud, has changed or at least our part in it has.
We are no longer the sheriff out to right the wrongs and protect the weak. We are a medium sized economic entity with a dodgy record regarding our role of protecting our own weak and vulnerable. If we calm our hubris and take a reality check, maybe the 'nationalism' that is projected by those least likely to fight, can be set aside for a larger role alongside the nations of Europe, many of whom we can identify with better than other global powerhouses.
This is the era of the global powerhouse.
Those on the other side of the pond, the US, for whom I would suggest we have little in common, other than the language.
The Chinese who are impenetrable.
The rest of Asia, who's cultural disparity makes us poor bedfellows.
And Russia, who as always defy any sort of categorisation other than their ability to suffer for a Slavic ideal.
The historical conflict within Europe has largely succumbed to a collective economic will which our proximity and also our own history, makes them the only family from which we can expect a bed and some comfort. All families squabble but a squabble is not the same as a divorce and we should stay and make the best we can in our own chastised circumstance.

The magic of good lyrics

Watching the film "A Hard Days Night" on Netflix took my back into the 60s and Sydney in Australia where I first saw it. The film made in 1964 is a zany depiction of a day in the bands life interspersed with the memorable tracks that had set the world of Pop Music alive. 

Living in Sydney and experiencing the ups and downs of being a single chap far away from home I well remember not only seeing the film but how certain tracks seemed to capture my mood.

The film opens with 'Its Been a Hard Days Night' a lively upbeat song something in the mould of the opening tension of Bill Haley's, Rock Around the Clock in the film 'Blackboard Jungle'.  Hayley's staccato drum rap as the film starts, the screen is black, "One two three o'clock four o'clock rock", the background music hit the kids I was one. It set the rebellious pace for the outburst of teenage angst across the country, there was no turning back.

The Beatles were a Anglicised Rock Band, their image manufactured by Brian Epstein but their music and lyrics live on to this day. "If I fell in love with you and I promise to be true" we're the words and the emotions which struck a cord in that relatively naive time when innocence was still to play for. If you had been dumped and were walking home feeling lost and despondent, its lyric seemed to be in tune with your feelings. "I should have known better with a girl like you", the driving sound of the Lennon's harmonica was more upbeat but still expressed that male yearning to find a girl who he could respect and go steady with.

The ritual of courtship amongst all but a fringe group "the players" was slow and ponderous. The time scale for taking a girl out was controlled by the "last bus" or a long walk home if and when you missed it. The fervour in the bus shelter and that last kiss was the most we could ask for since everyone knew 'the limits' in a time where pregnancy meant an early marriage, and no argument. There was no pill, no clinic no option since "society" expected both parties to do the honourable thing.

It seems such a far off time, so different from today's, single parenting, sex on demand society where respect is measured in how many times you do it not the converse.

The music of that era lives on because it was good and spoke then to the youngsters. The same people who today, even with their arthritis, still remember with fondness the partners we took out when the world was a much simpler place.