A day well spent

Subject: A day well spent.

Every nation craves recognition and through that recognition ordinary citizens bathe for a moment or two in the glory. Once it was on the field of battle but as the battles became more costly and the death toll began to include more civilians than combatants, the cost of going to war is simply too high. These days we contest and measure our strength in the various sports we take part in. Sometimes we do well, sometimes we fail but the nation carries each occasion through the hopes of its citizens and in no small part each person seeing a victory feels a tiny part of the event.
Today has been chocker block full of memorable sporting events. 
Wimbledon with those two giant champions of tennis, Roger Federer v Novak Djokovic was a titanic five set struggle with Djokovic finally emerging the winner.
We also have the culmination of the cricket World Cup with England favourites to beat New Zealand and, in Formula One Motor Racing, a Louis Hamilton win at Silverstone.  
The cricket was almost impossible to watch because of the tension. We are well known for choking at the last hurdle, we don't quite fulfill the hype our sporting pundits put out in their protestations of our chance to win and too often we seem to stare at the winning line yet unable to hold it together to get there first. 
I'm not sure what other nations do in the raising of their public's hopes of a win, I'm sure the Indian press were astounded by New Zealand ability to graft a small total of runs but enough to see their bowlers carry the day with a well deserved victory. Today it looked like a repeat of the Indian game, our batsmen, who were superb against Australia in the other semi final were succumbing to the Kiwi bowling attack after the Kiwis set what what appeared to be an easy total of runs to reach. Never before have I witnessed such nail biting cricket.

 The last over the England batsman Ben Stokes, on his knees trying to score the final run. All square after fifty overs each and a final special over played where each side faced six balls to win the World Cup. Throwing bat to ball the runs came, 15 to England to win, of which 4 were a fluke, (the throw in was deflected off the batsman's outstretched bat as he dived to avoid being run out) leaving New Zealand six balls to do it in. They nearly did but were out from a throw in to the keepers end on the last ball as the batsman threw himself at the crease to score the winning run. The emotion was palpable, people were in tears of joy and tears of disappointment, both teams were winners in everyone's eyes except of course the record book

At Silverstone the combination of a Mercedes's car and the consummate skill of Louis Hamilton brought yet another victory and a record number of wins by Hamilton. The race itself was exciting, not a frequently used description when describing F1 motor racing which is usually a high speed procession after the first corner. Today's excitement came from the amazingly young, new bunch of drivers who unlike their predecessors seem, with that fearless spirit which comes from youth, prepared to pass other cars where previously it was deemed impossible to pass. Their vigor and their ability to rewrite the rules by tearing up the rule book is a breath of fresh air to the sport.

And so another day being a couch potato, skipping between channels, revealing in the freedoms to hang out with my best friend has come to an end and whilst not a champion or even a hands-on spectator at least, as I settle down in bed to write to you all, I feel the day was well spent.

Ode to pregnancy

 

 

Subject: Ode to pregnancy.

I think it is acknowledged that if men were required to carry an unborn baby inside them with all the discomfort it brings, the human race would die out. Men could simply not be asked to put their lives on hold for nine months whilst their bodies changed to cope with a growing child inside, the hormonal adjustments, the physical impact on their capacity to move around, the mental impact of coping with discomfort as the baby makes demands on its presence and the soreness, irritation, pangs of pain, the loss of sleep and the grumpiness brought on by all of this. Men are not cut out for this. Their eruptive contribution is only a moment of self gratification which, as they roll away, states "it's over to you now girl".
The reason this is brought to mind is that I have had a rough few days myself and as I warm to my self pity. A few days of discomfort, a few days of sleepless nights, a tummy which was being disrupted with the dull throb of pain brought on by a bladder infection.
Tossing and turning to find some relief, occasionally getting up to vomit in the toilet, shivering hot and cold with fever, dizzy and discontented I was not a happy chappie.
I suppose one difference was, my pain was menacing, it carried a hostile, malevolent message that all was not well and that the future might hold a great deal of uncertainty.
The pregnant woman sees the disruptive nature of the baby as a positive. The painful kicks, a fore teller of life not death, a unique bond which should bring great happiness.
The child already has a personality forming in the mother's mind, the communication between the two is well underway. We don't know the thoughts which flow through the babies mind but the thoughts which flow through the mother are always tempered with love. The anticipation for the great experiment to begin, the early years when the assimilation of the child's needs become the mother's direction in life.
The mid years when the child begins to recognise its own responses and needs and yet still stays close to the mother's skirt, just in case. And then, the terrible years of teenage angst when battle lines are formed until, like a chrysalis he or she throws off all that protective advice and go their own way to the mother's plaintive cry, "be careful"
My discomfort was very personal, very self centred, the Moms is tied up in the marvel of creation, probably the most important thing we do whilst we are here on earth

Tropes in many guises

Subject: Tropes in many guises.

To make the statement, "if you don't like it here go back to where you came from" is now deemed a racist trope when directed at someone who looks as though they are not a native of that country. 

In my day to be told by an Aussie or a South African who might have become upset by my criticising their country "go back to the UK" was never considered racist rather it was a perfectly normal and reasoned retort since, if I didn't like what I saw, then I was free to go elsewhere. It might be argued that the person who was suggesting you leave, was not prepared to look at what I had said dispassionately, the fact that I was a foreigner was enough. It could be described as a lazy response, a retort designed to shut down further comment, instead of finding out if there was substance in my criticism but I never took umbrage at it. 

I was always a foreigner in the 40 years I lived away. I never saw the need to become a national of any country other than the UK and therefore I am amazed at how keen people are these days to sign away their birthright.
The insistence of immigrants to demand, almost immediate citizenship seems to belie any loyalty to their own ethnicity and if ethnicity can be so freely traded what substance is there to those formative years when concepts of societal values were born, unless of course one believes the society you move into is flexible and malleable enough to sustain ones own opinions, regardless that they were formed in some distant land under far different conditions. 
The UK has striven to be such a country, priding itself on its welcome and its willingness to acquiesce to all kinds of claims made upon it. Our own definition of what constitutes good and bad, right and wrong has long lost its relevance as the country seeks to accommodate all and sundry. It's this capitulation of a definition of Britishness that  is at the source of much of the discontent which lies at the heart of any discussion. To evinced our understanding of what we value is often described as indulging in a type of white supremacy and worse, racist in its reservations. We glory the avowed demands of others to their tradition and culture, whilst declining to accept our own.
Todays immediate response is to attach the descriptive, racist to those who question the efficacy of multiculturalism. Everything is argued through the prism of skin colour or the abuse of a minority section of society when in fact what is being questioned is the underlying culture and the differences between our exiting culture here in these islands and the ones brought in by the immigrant. 

In my opinion cultures are manifestations of understandable norms but norms which are dependent on the setting.

To argue against the processes which constitute a culture is not racist but is dependant on the counter claims coming from another culture. Twisting everything into a form of racial abuse is wrong, instead it could be argued that on the basis of the claim of cultural abuse, it could equally be charged that the forced assimilation of other cultures into this country is an abuse. It has paralysed our ability to have opinion different to that of the carefully contrived view promulgated by the dark matter which lurks everywhere, a 'politically correct' concoction, by which we sail our ship these days. 
Israel Folau was kicked off his national rugby side and roundly condemned by many for suggesting that Gay people "would be cast into hell" which was his reading and interpretation of the bible. His use of an outdated religious opinion had rightly upset many people, not least the gay community but it was the unseen 'new authority' which coverts what we are allowed to think which caused Folau demise.  In essence the bible has many teachings which now a days  are challenged but for some, it is still the word of god and confirmed as belief, if you wish to be a good christian. Folau was evincing nothing less than what he had been taught to believe but the might and power of politically held opinion, trumped thousands of years of religious conformity.
The new religion is born, political correctness which was put in place to convince the masses of the need of a new god, the need of the economy. The need for as many people to come into the country to man the tools of production to make the economy work but crucially, for the lowest investment. 

Training of the existing people and paying them a livable wage, a Keynesian concept was swept aside by the Thatcherite favorite, Milton Friedman's alternative, of letting the markets decide everything. 

The device of dampening dissent, that of crying race, misogyny, sexism, when ever anyone pointed out the difficulties presented to the existing population of new and in many instances, alien cultures took hold, smothering the less conformist British way of life. Live and let live was always one of the traits of living here. There were no Facist movements as there had been on the Continent and the more extreme political ideologies were left to wither on the bough of disinterest. There were small pockets of racial discontent, based on the economic reality that the immigrant was taking my job. The immigrants willingness (especially after the war when the inhabitants of these islands had been promised by the new labour government better conditions all round compared to what they had before the war),  to live in crowded conditions amongst other immigrants from their home country was an economic boon to industry where they could introduce lower wages and increase hours of work to a more pliant workforce. 

The great con that we will collapse as an economic entity without the skills and low wages that immigration brings has encouraged massive cut backs in the quality and length of training offered to our own workforce. Apprenticeships withered away, the Technical Training Colleges were closed down, an easier curriculum with testing consisting of multiple answer questions has meant that more and more of our kids leave school virtually illiterate and a workforce which is paid the minimum wage based on the assumption that the Benefits system (funded by the tax payer) will pay the difference between a proper wage and the minimum wage paid by the employer. 

Today we, the ubiquitous tax payer, are engaged as fiscal partners in so many business enterprises, unfortunately without the benefit of an interim dividend.

A day well spent

A day well spent

Add caption

Every nation craves recognition and through that recognition ordinary citizens bathe for a moment or two in the glory. Once it was on the field of battle but as the battles became more costly and the death toll began to include more civilians than combatants, the cost of going to war is simply too high. These days we contest and measure our strength in the various sports we take part in. Sometimes we do well, sometimes we fail but the nation carries each occasion through the hopes of its citizens and in no small part each person seeing a victory feels a tiny part of the event.
Today has been choker block full of memorable sporting events. 
Wimbledon with those two giant champions of tennis, Roger Federer v Novak Djokovic was a titanic five set struggle with Djokovic finally emerging the winner.
We also have the culmination of the cricket World Cup with England favourites to beat New Zealand and, in Formula One Motor Racing, a Louis Hamilton win at Silverstone.  
The cricket was almost impossible to watch because of the tension. We are well known for choking at the last hurdle, we don't quite fulfill the hype our sporting pundits put out in their protestations of our chance to win and too often we seem to stare at the winning line yet unable to hold it together to get there first. 
I'm not sure what other nations do in the raising of their public's hopes of a win, I'm sure the Indian press were astounded by New Zealand ability to graft a small total of runs but enough to see their bowlers carry the day with a well deserved victory. Today it looked like a repeat of the Indian game, our batsmen, who were superb agains Australia in the other semi final were succumbing to the Kiwi bowling attack after the Kiwis set what what appeared to be an easy total of runs to reach. Never before have I witnessed such nail biting cricket. The last over the England batsman Ben Stokes, on his knees trying to score the final run. All square after fifty overs each and a final special over played where each side faced six balls to win the World Cup. Throwing bat to ball the runs came, 15 to England to win, of which 4 were a fluke, (the throw in was deflected off the batsman's outstretched bat as he dived to avoid being run out) leaving New Zealand six balls to do it in. They nearly did but were out from a throw in to the keepers end on the last ball as the batsman threw himself at the crease to score the winning run. The emotion was palpable, people were in tears of joy and tears of disappointment, both teams were winners in everyone's eyes except of course the record book
At Silverstone the combination of a Mercedes's car and the consummate skill of Louis Hamilton brought yet another victory and a record number of wins by Hamilton. The race itself was exciting, not a frequently used description when describing F1 motor racing which is usually a high speed procession after the first corner. Today's excitement came from the amazingly young, new bunch of drivers who unlike their predecessors seem, with that fearless spirit which comes from youth, prepared to pass other cars where previously it was deemed impossible to pass. Their vigor and their ability to rewrite the rules by tearing up the rule book is a breath of fresh air to the sport.
And so another day being a couch potato, skipping between channels, revealing in the freedoms to hang out with my best friend has come to an end and whilst not a champion or even a hands-on spectator at least, as I settle down in bed to write to you all, I feel the day was well spent.

A lack of honesty

Subject: FW: A lack of honesty.

The opportunity to vote on who goes forward to contest the position for the new Prime Minister has been sullied by the claim that tactical voting has been used to 'out' a contestant who it was thought offered a greater challenge to Boris Johnson.
Of course the ability to vote for who ever you chose is your democratic right but is the democratic right not part of an assumption that who you vote for is the person you want to win. This must be especially so when the people voting is not Joe Blogs in the public bar of the Duck and Goose but people (politicians) we elected to carry forward the good name of our country, a name by which the country will be judged in the future for its probity.
Is there a place for the 'dark art' of tactical voting especially given that Boris Johnson has so many votes to play with, being so far ahead. The image of parliamentarians gathering in smoke filled rooms to plot against people they deem as the enemy, is hardly encouraging when we, the ordinary citizen are demonised if we don't practice total transparency in our morality on a whole range of social issues, even when those issues go against the grain. As voters we are critiqued if we don't turn up and vote at elections, we are said to miss  an opportunity to have our say, with the implication that we can't complain when the Governments policies which we don't like, are then enacted.
But this inevitably assumes that your cross on the ballot paper stands for something and reflects what you believe. If we all turned out to vote in a tactical way, one man's tactic to oppose one woman's tactic, heaven help us in the miss-mash which would result.
False news, now false voting, when will we stop and reflect the importance of truth. It may be a truth tainted by prejudice but at least it has the ring of an honest opinion, not the discombobulating lack of any sort of surety, when statements are made in the voting booth or the views given verbally by the politician in answer to a question.
The smokes and mirrors circus which seems to be the norm these days, the sound bites replacing statements of political intent and political intent is proved so  transitory.
 Where does it all leave the ordinary citizen, who always, sadly ends up bearing the brunt.

The generation gap

Subject: FW: The generation gap.

 

Is there a psychological moment in life when, as a person you are released of your responsibilities, your duties, your ability to make decisions and hand them over to a carer to make them for you. Is there a moment when it's in your best interests to let go and allow the world to go its own way without you defining the course you wish to make in your personal contribution.
Of course in the case of dementia, or any other mental deficiency or perhaps if your physical capacity has deteriorated to such an extent that you can't make your bed or take care of yourself, then a carer is the best option to lend a hand. But is it the case, as one begins to slow down or become less able to run and catch the proverbial bus, are these the signs for pre-emotive action, of handing over the keys as it were and downsizing to fit a role which is defined by others.
The others may have your best interest at heart but is that enough to lay aside the individualism that made you a success, no matter how mediocre. There's a  suggestion that pride gets in the way of letting go, as if pride were a bad thing. Perhaps if we had more pride in ourselves and in the society at large then the norms in society wouldn't become so lax and determinate such that anything seems to go these days.
Having weathered so much, having guided ones family through many hiccups it's difficult to be advised that one now has to not only take advice but accept from now on. It's doubly frustrating when one is encouraged to accept advice when it's not even asked for, as if the giving of the advice is without its own blemish and that a different course of action, your course of action, is now irrelevant and out of date.

Are we ever out of date and is the younger generation always right. There is a cult of youthful profundity where new ideas always out rank the old and If we disagree are we letting the youth down from the conditional stimulation we have provided by never questioning their divergence from our own chosen path.
Is the moment of truth too early, do we have to accept that we are too weak to carry the flag anymore or be the individual who has been the main source of our strength through life.
There's a lot to be said for a carer, especially when we become frail but do not hasten the frailty by suggesting that it's now the time, when it isn't.

Trumping the needs of a country they were elected to serve

Subject: FW: Trumping the needs of the country they were elected to serve.

 

So now, after the contenders debate for who is to be the next Prime Minister the knifes are out and the trolls gather to attack the BBC for its handling of the debate.
The chairwoman was deemed to have targeted Boris Johnson as if his past utterances and dodgy decision making were not fair game. The selection of people who appeared on screen from different locations in the country and across a broad spectrum of the British Public were, in the eyes of the trolls prejudiced  against the Tory Party. Perhaps they would prefer a bunch of pink rinse octogenarians who just love the idea of Boris as leader and ask purely sycophantic questions.
There is a class of people who hate the BBC. Who would demolish the BBC if they could the same sort of people who would demolish the NHS for a market orientated enterprise who see competition as the only modus operandi worth considering. They seem to come from the stable of the Express,Mail, and Sun readership, who pay allegiance to the Murdock blend of capitalism where those that can pay and the rest do without.
Listening to David Davis that genial " everything will come good" merchant who's cry to get out of the EU come what may (not Mrs May) and who admitted this morning that "if he didn't understand a problem he ignored it" on the premise that he could only focus on what he did understand, exemplifies why the warnings of industry are ignored.
A good source of information, not political cant, but opinion from the front line, where the action is being fought, opinion from the chemical industry, and the pharmaceutical industry, vehicle manufactures and many others, are part of the process of information gathering which the Parliamentary Committees undertake to advise government. All this expert advice is ignored by the politicos such as Johnson, Hunt, Javid and Gove. For them the political goal, to become the next Prime Minister is worth the misery of a broken car industry or the diminution of our standing in the field of Research and Development.   For them their hubris, their self importance, trumps the needs of the country they were elected to serve.