Back from the week in Oban. A very wet week; every day torrential rain at some times and sun at others so visit planning had to be flexible so we got gardens to coincide with sun and were under cover in the wet. We had a extremely good house to stay in with every luxury one could wish for. All in new condition so any day when we decided to give up early and catch up on the newspapers was made enjoyable.
I've called this 'Another milestone'. This in recognition to our conclusion that weeks away are not the best use of our time, energy and money. The hassle is just too much for us to really enjoy. We knew most of what we would see in Oban and were able to cherry pick. We've agreed that the future will be long week-ends. What we would have spent - energy and money - on a week will go for 2 or 4 day stays. Like our Norma birthday trip to the Dales which was quite perfect. Just the one suitcase jobs. Long haul holidays went after the Two Old Farts in A Canyon tour of America. Keith's wedding in Frankfurt I regard as out last European holiday and I have no eagerness to travel down to the Big Wen after my trip a few weeks ago. Three or four hours in the car will do me and that still covers a lot of ground we know and can choose to match the need.
Saturday, 23 May 2009
Monday, 18 May 2009
Vacation
So, here we are on the West Coast of Scotland. About 8 miles outside Oban in an area we know reasonably well. We are in a very swish house sharing with Keith and Katrin and Katrin's brother. All over from Germany.
They are heavily into the tourism bit. Every night three sets of computers are researching mightily into where to see what, how to get there and what the weather will be. At the moment, fact and forecast are for wet windy weather so it has to be a set off as to just what rain will do on the days play. I find the concern with weather a bit amusing; it will be what it will be and the forecasts are really just that - forecasts. Here, one has to decide on going out or staying in with the papers and a good book. The old adage about there being no such thing as bad weather, only inadequate clothing is very apt in my way of thinking. We are not so worried about where to go and what to see as we covered them in a number of previous visits so it is a case of sorting which one we will favour. This area is a gastronomes paradise with special attention to stuff from the sea; we will eat well but not, I think, too much of the vegetarian stuff!
I have spent as bit of time looking at the new search engine www.wolframalpha.com. Not a Google sort of searcher but ideal for aspy types such as myself. As an opener, I input my birthday as a search term. Amongst the results I got Time difference from today (Monday, May 18, 2009): 75.76 years which can be broken down to 3952 weeks and six days or 27,670 days. It was a Tuesday. That sends me off down nursery rhyme lane
I'm not so sure about this Grace thing. One for Google rather than the newcomer. One hit was this
What was, just a short while ago a stay and read day has turned into a OK for a drive day but still a bit wet. Food beckons. More fin or shell to be attacked.
They are heavily into the tourism bit. Every night three sets of computers are researching mightily into where to see what, how to get there and what the weather will be. At the moment, fact and forecast are for wet windy weather so it has to be a set off as to just what rain will do on the days play. I find the concern with weather a bit amusing; it will be what it will be and the forecasts are really just that - forecasts. Here, one has to decide on going out or staying in with the papers and a good book. The old adage about there being no such thing as bad weather, only inadequate clothing is very apt in my way of thinking. We are not so worried about where to go and what to see as we covered them in a number of previous visits so it is a case of sorting which one we will favour. This area is a gastronomes paradise with special attention to stuff from the sea; we will eat well but not, I think, too much of the vegetarian stuff!
I have spent as bit of time looking at the new search engine www.wolframalpha.com. Not a Google sort of searcher but ideal for aspy types such as myself. As an opener, I input my birthday as a search term. Amongst the results I got Time difference from today (Monday, May 18, 2009): 75.76 years which can be broken down to 3952 weeks and six days or 27,670 days. It was a Tuesday. That sends me off down nursery rhyme lane
Mondays child is fair of face,So, just how many of those 27,670 days were full of grace? Was there any especial week amongst 3952 of them? And, given the modern-day vocabulary, should I be glad I was not born on the Sabbath day?
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
I'm not so sure about this Grace thing. One for Google rather than the newcomer. One hit was this
Definition: Grace is God's unmerited favor. It is kindness from God we don't deserve. There is nothing we have done, nor we can ever do to earn this favor. It is a gift from God. Grace is divine assistance given to humans for theirI'm fairly happy with that. It seems to suggest that it is a gift and that chimes. Sure as hell, I've certainly not sought grace but at least I am not graceless.
regeneration (rebirth) or sanctification; a virtue coming from God; a state of
sanctification enjoyed through divine favor
What was, just a short while ago a stay and read day has turned into a OK for a drive day but still a bit wet. Food beckons. More fin or shell to be attacked.
Thursday, 14 May 2009
Adult toys
No, no - not what you may be thinking!
The Wood family starting from me has a fascination for toys. The kids toy chests were always over-flowing and that continued into adulthood. A toy is anything that is desirable. Shiny. Heavy. Well constructed. The main criteria is that whilst they work, they are almost totally impractical.
I today saw what must be the toy par excellence. It makes expresso coffee. When you may be out in the wilds where everyone demands such a treat. Beautifully made and presented. Makes a very good cup.
And I know a man who has one!
This makes my son the King of Wood toys.
For the moment anyway ....................
The Wood family starting from me has a fascination for toys. The kids toy chests were always over-flowing and that continued into adulthood. A toy is anything that is desirable. Shiny. Heavy. Well constructed. The main criteria is that whilst they work, they are almost totally impractical.
I today saw what must be the toy par excellence. It makes expresso coffee. When you may be out in the wilds where everyone demands such a treat. Beautifully made and presented. Makes a very good cup.
And I know a man who has one!
This makes my son the King of Wood toys.
For the moment anyway ....................
Wednesday, 13 May 2009
Only a dog
I was talking with someone the other day and he used the phrase "Just a dog after all". That was about the end of that conversation. I thought of 'just a dog' I shared things with.
There is more intelligence in those eyes alone than any 'just a dog' commentator has in their whole body. Brighter and a lot more fun than half a dozen Essex Girls.
There is more intelligence in those eyes alone than any 'just a dog' commentator has in their whole body. Brighter and a lot more fun than half a dozen Essex Girls.
Monday, 11 May 2009
Saturday, 9 May 2009
Boot on other foot chaps?
Comments from politicians and their Civil Servants re police being called in to investigate what a MP (Damien Green) had been getting up to.
David Cameron said “Does Gordon Brown think it is right for an MP who has apparently done nothing to breach our national security - and everything to inform the public of information they're entitled to know - to have his home and office searched by a dozen counter-terrorist police officers, his phone, blackberry and computers confiscated, and to be arrested and held for nine hours?”
Ken Clark said “Outrageous... There is no crime, this is an abuse of police powers, this is President Nixon's America - harassing a political opponent of the government. It should stop”
Harriet Harperson “We have got to be sure that whilst MPs are not above the law, that actually they are able to get on with their job without unwarranted interference by the law”
Nick Clegg “This is breaking with centuries of tradition about the independence of Parliament”
I’m sure you get the drift.
So why has the Met Police been asked to investigate the leaks about claims made by politicians?
The Joy of Sex
I will merely record the opening paragraph of a news report. It does not leave me speechless - just that my observations might lead us down avenues we do not wish to travel. Just one snide aside - this happened in the North East where the impression is of cloth caps and headscarves and dour family relationships.
How noisy can sex get before it is illegally loud? A jury in a forthcoming case in Newcastle Crown Court will soon have to decide this challenging question.
Dinna ask
The concern about DNA records leaves me cold. First off - let me state my position that if one leads a straight life, there can be no worries about who knows what about me. Having knowledge is one thing. Making use of it is another.
If a trace of my DNA at a crime scene meant that I would straight away be found guilty I would have concerns. The way things are, I have ample opportunity to refute the finding or to put forward an explanation as to why its presence was innocent or mistaken. No difference there so far as evidence is concerned. If a witness says that he saw me do such and such or heard me say whatever, that person is heard and it is up to me to deal with it. DNA speaks out to the same end but in a different manner.
I suppose many of the objectors have a overall Civil Rights motive in being agin' it. Fine. But, just as your freedom fighter is my terrorist, your Civil Rights are my oppressor. If someone does something to my detriment I want them identified, found and dealt with. All means short of torture should be permitted and utilised in that process. I have faith in the DNA association such as to accept that it is unlikely that two of us have the same DNA - known instances aside.
Defence counsel of today are well versed in dealing with such evidence. Contamination opportunities are rife. Repeated assertions of even a faint possibility of some forensic mishandling will lead a jury of laymen (laywomen - or is that something else?) to give the benefit of the doubt to an accused.
Yes - I may well be banged up for a long period prior to trial with all the risk and unpleasantness that may entail. Yes - I will be put to expense. There will be little mental stress if I know I am not the man they want. There are civil remedies open to me if the close detention were capricious.
Into each life a little rain must fall. I could well suffer very similar trauma from a traffic collision that was not my fault. The same sort of suffering might arise from the conduct of a spouse or from an employer. In the latter case, I might well be the cause of my own inconvenience.
On balance, I'm for retention of DNA records. There is, in my mind, a case for it being recorded at birth as a matter of course. If my remains were found in some state as to deny normal identification, DNA records could bring closure to my family and friends. When the time comes that my confused and tired brain directs me to wander abroad, I can be made known like a well cared for dog.
If a trace of my DNA at a crime scene meant that I would straight away be found guilty I would have concerns. The way things are, I have ample opportunity to refute the finding or to put forward an explanation as to why its presence was innocent or mistaken. No difference there so far as evidence is concerned. If a witness says that he saw me do such and such or heard me say whatever, that person is heard and it is up to me to deal with it. DNA speaks out to the same end but in a different manner.
I suppose many of the objectors have a overall Civil Rights motive in being agin' it. Fine. But, just as your freedom fighter is my terrorist, your Civil Rights are my oppressor. If someone does something to my detriment I want them identified, found and dealt with. All means short of torture should be permitted and utilised in that process. I have faith in the DNA association such as to accept that it is unlikely that two of us have the same DNA - known instances aside.
Defence counsel of today are well versed in dealing with such evidence. Contamination opportunities are rife. Repeated assertions of even a faint possibility of some forensic mishandling will lead a jury of laymen (laywomen - or is that something else?) to give the benefit of the doubt to an accused.
Yes - I may well be banged up for a long period prior to trial with all the risk and unpleasantness that may entail. Yes - I will be put to expense. There will be little mental stress if I know I am not the man they want. There are civil remedies open to me if the close detention were capricious.
Into each life a little rain must fall. I could well suffer very similar trauma from a traffic collision that was not my fault. The same sort of suffering might arise from the conduct of a spouse or from an employer. In the latter case, I might well be the cause of my own inconvenience.
On balance, I'm for retention of DNA records. There is, in my mind, a case for it being recorded at birth as a matter of course. If my remains were found in some state as to deny normal identification, DNA records could bring closure to my family and friends. When the time comes that my confused and tired brain directs me to wander abroad, I can be made known like a well cared for dog.
Thursday, 7 May 2009
Evidence or punishment?
Gathering and presenting evidence from a four year old girl of serious sexual assault some two years previously is a tremendous challenge. The youngest witness I ever had to deal with in this respect was a six year old girl assaulted by her father. One has two pressures; not to add to the trauma and to ensure that the best evidence is presented in the best way. The molester must meet just desserts, the child must not be harmed.
My concerns were re-ignited by the case of Baby P's sister. The investigators of today have the technical resource of cctv both at interview stage and at court. However, at the end of the day one has to remember that the duty of a defending counsel requires him to ensure that prosecution evidence is tested. How far should he go? Might any temerity on his part open an appeal process - I would imagine there would be far greater resistence to subject the child to another bout of questioning should a retrial be considered.
I was, therefore, interested to read this comment on the process.
My concerns were re-ignited by the case of Baby P's sister. The investigators of today have the technical resource of cctv both at interview stage and at court. However, at the end of the day one has to remember that the duty of a defending counsel requires him to ensure that prosecution evidence is tested. How far should he go? Might any temerity on his part open an appeal process - I would imagine there would be far greater resistence to subject the child to another bout of questioning should a retrial be considered.
I was, therefore, interested to read this comment on the process.
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Saturday, 2 May 2009
Ghurka home?
I've held off on the debate about immigration rules for Gurkha troops. However, I suspect that the Brown-beaters have now boarded the bus to Outrage City as the story allows them lineage beyond any likely to be generated by the right or wrong of the actual immigration rights debate.
In my time I was stationed in close proximity to Gurkha troops. I was in a military police unit that was 85% Gurkha troops. I undertook a number of investigations involving them. I cannot say there was anything different about them in their make-up. They seemed to have a similar ratio of good and bad. Fat and thin. Good parents and not very efficient parents. So - nothing unusual there. They had officers who would not accept that Gurkhas could or would do anything wrong and saw them as paragons of virtue; this level of support was far in excess of that normally experienced with British officers and their British troops. There has been much said about the level of bravery in action. Our current troubles have demonstrated that bravery in other Nationals and Regiments is far more common than might be imagined. I do tend to think that there is a level of amok higher amongst Gurkha troops than others. My analysis of citations (In the old Indian Army) (Modern times but not complete) does suggest that they tend to rush into situations that are desperate.
They were recruited under terms that got them out of Nepal and into the British army. Their terms of service differed from British soldiers. There was no promise of resettlement in UK at the end of their period of service. Their pension was less on the basis that the cost of living in Nepal allowed them a commensurate life style to British pensioners for less. Now, there are a number who wish to retire here. I can see no reason why they should receive any special treatment. They were fully aware what they were getting into. Maybe they see it as unfair that they should have risked their lives in our service. They were fully aware what they were getting into. They may think that living in UK is their right. They knew what etc. etc. I can sympathise with their wish to leave Nepal but why here? There are considerable Gurkha communities in Hong Kong and in Brunei that they could join. There is talk of a debt of gratitude - where does this end? Think of those who supported the British cause in the colonies we have now surrendered - are we not grateful to them?
No - I think we have gone soft in our modern times. Do they have grounds for coming here? Yes, but individually no more than any other immigrant.
In my time I was stationed in close proximity to Gurkha troops. I was in a military police unit that was 85% Gurkha troops. I undertook a number of investigations involving them. I cannot say there was anything different about them in their make-up. They seemed to have a similar ratio of good and bad. Fat and thin. Good parents and not very efficient parents. So - nothing unusual there. They had officers who would not accept that Gurkhas could or would do anything wrong and saw them as paragons of virtue; this level of support was far in excess of that normally experienced with British officers and their British troops. There has been much said about the level of bravery in action. Our current troubles have demonstrated that bravery in other Nationals and Regiments is far more common than might be imagined. I do tend to think that there is a level of amok higher amongst Gurkha troops than others. My analysis of citations (In the old Indian Army) (Modern times but not complete) does suggest that they tend to rush into situations that are desperate.
They were recruited under terms that got them out of Nepal and into the British army. Their terms of service differed from British soldiers. There was no promise of resettlement in UK at the end of their period of service. Their pension was less on the basis that the cost of living in Nepal allowed them a commensurate life style to British pensioners for less. Now, there are a number who wish to retire here. I can see no reason why they should receive any special treatment. They were fully aware what they were getting into. Maybe they see it as unfair that they should have risked their lives in our service. They were fully aware what they were getting into. They may think that living in UK is their right. They knew what etc. etc. I can sympathise with their wish to leave Nepal but why here? There are considerable Gurkha communities in Hong Kong and in Brunei that they could join. There is talk of a debt of gratitude - where does this end? Think of those who supported the British cause in the colonies we have now surrendered - are we not grateful to them?
No - I think we have gone soft in our modern times. Do they have grounds for coming here? Yes, but individually no more than any other immigrant.
Of course I love you. Now go to sleep
There are a real mass of reasons that I find this law report amusing. A wife of seven years standing handcuffs herself to her husband in order to gain more of his attention. As the survivor of more than 50 years of marriage, I cannot see her reason for such desperate measures. Then, when he attempts to free himself, she attacks him so violently he has to call for police assistance. She ended up in court.
The reporter than inserts this observation " It seems unlikely the marriage can be saved." Well, he does seem to be very perceptive there. Another small giggle comes from his name - Gary Slapper. Shame the story was not about a wayward wife aka old slapper.
Mind you - he was somewhat lucky with the handcuffs.
The reporter than inserts this observation " It seems unlikely the marriage can be saved." Well, he does seem to be very perceptive there. Another small giggle comes from his name - Gary Slapper. Shame the story was not about a wayward wife aka old slapper.
Mind you - he was somewhat lucky with the handcuffs.
Parents who care
There seems to be no depths to which human beings will not sink. The initial set of events - the death of the boy Peter - was horrific but the same man has now been found guilty of even worse behaviour.
The girl was not identified and there has been no disclosure of her parent's identity. I would conclude that she was a sister of the boy we now know as Peter. His mother, the partner of the killer and rapist, has been found guilty of a lesser charge connected with the sequence of the multiple rapes.
We will hear repeated calls for the crucifixion of the social care workers who are already in the Hall of Blame for Peter's death. That is understandable at first take but it does seem they were trying to brush out floor waters with a rake. The work load we have had disclosed must surely mitigate against even half-way protection. A phrase I have found telling was 'Social workers do not kill children'. For all we can know, the workers may well have had events on their work load where the risks were more apparent and gave priority to these. In the case of Peter and, in my conclusion, his violated sister, there would be no parental suspicion as to what was going on in a house of horrors but I see these events as another example of where we are in parenting. We have all forms of swift communication and surveillance but still failed these two kids. Punishment of the two involved here will do little to correct this - those involved right now in child abuse and neglect will just say 'they won't catch me' and continue their evil ways.
Just a small image of what I mean - how did the parents allow this to happen? Why did the photographer or bystanders not intervene? It may seem amusing but it illustrates just what I mean by negligent parenting.
The girl was not identified and there has been no disclosure of her parent's identity. I would conclude that she was a sister of the boy we now know as Peter. His mother, the partner of the killer and rapist, has been found guilty of a lesser charge connected with the sequence of the multiple rapes.
We will hear repeated calls for the crucifixion of the social care workers who are already in the Hall of Blame for Peter's death. That is understandable at first take but it does seem they were trying to brush out floor waters with a rake. The work load we have had disclosed must surely mitigate against even half-way protection. A phrase I have found telling was 'Social workers do not kill children'. For all we can know, the workers may well have had events on their work load where the risks were more apparent and gave priority to these. In the case of Peter and, in my conclusion, his violated sister, there would be no parental suspicion as to what was going on in a house of horrors but I see these events as another example of where we are in parenting. We have all forms of swift communication and surveillance but still failed these two kids. Punishment of the two involved here will do little to correct this - those involved right now in child abuse and neglect will just say 'they won't catch me' and continue their evil ways.
Just a small image of what I mean - how did the parents allow this to happen? Why did the photographer or bystanders not intervene? It may seem amusing but it illustrates just what I mean by negligent parenting.
Lost for ever?
The media today is re-focussing in the little girl Madeline McCann. It is the second anniversary of her disappearance. We have seen a computer-generated update of the initial Missing Person photograph. As a media cynic ('there is nothing they will not do to increase sales'), I have the idea that if the parents had not initiated this fresh outburst of activity, then the Media would have. We do not seem to hear whether anyone has counselled them that the child has been murdered; I think it would be a kindness for some scientific exposure of this possibility.
There is a perception amongst investigators that abducted children are murdered with a very short time of their being taken. This is summed up as " Seventy-four percent of children who are kidnapped and later found murdered are killed within the first three hours after being taken, and 99 percent are killed within the first 24 hours". Note this is related to 'found murdered' and not to the totality of abductions, This finding is supported by other statistics that the prime reason for he children being taken is sexual gratification and once used in this manner, the child is an embarrassment to the abductor.
As the parent of four children, one of whom was lost due to cancer, I cannot imagine how it would effect me to have this 74% theory explained and confirmed, Equally, I cannot think how I could live the rest of my life not knowing what had happened. I have my doubts about what is described as the process of closure.The alternative is so horrific that I think there should be some procedure put into operation to at least offer this to parents and family. It would need the most careful handling - I think of the term 'being cruel to be kind'
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Another swan sings.
Just back from an overnighter in London. Down yesterday on the train, a 40 minute meeting with Secretary of State for Northern Ireland and then on the town prior to train home today.
Just as I have already had my final ever long haul air flight and my final ever European holiday, this marked the last of my trips to London. It was just too much stress on the old body. My back gives in quite quickly carrying anything like an overnight bag and a few files. The actual travel is OK so I suppose I might make a lightweight run. The meeting was some contingency planning that SoS wanted to make regarding the publication by Lord Saville of his Inquiry findings of events of Bloody Sunday on 30 January 1972.
I was there when the thing went off at Londonderry and ran the first immediate investigation so it would be nice to be in at the death. Others at the meeting included three Generals and a very senior MOD official. And me. How a humble WOI got dragged into that sort of body, I'll never know. I have nothing to be afraid of but it seems our meeting was to debate just what needed to be done if there were any problems with the cover of anonymity given to many of the military witnesses should Saville attribute blame.
Seeing it might be the Final Night of John's Proms, I decided to make a bit of a night of it. The very first posh restaurant I went to was in 1942 when my father took me to a business lunch at Veerasawamy's Restaurant in Regent Street. I know not why - he was not one given to acknowledging fatherly treats. I was obviously impressed as it became a favourite watering hole for me as I progressed through courting and into marriage. During my time in the Army, we went there whenever we returned from foreign climes. Although it was an Indian restaurant it bore little resemblence to any such establishment of today. Possibly the best description would be to liken it to a Government resthouse in pre-Merdeka Malaya. It was the burra sahibs version of Indian eating. The food was vaguely Home Counties English with added spices. None of that curry stuff that the natives eat dontcherknow! Such dishes were available but were not the foremost items on the menu. Right from my first visual memory it had a sort of run down, faded charm. The staff were very discreet but one's glass was kept topped up and dishes came and went in an almost discreet manner.
Well, it has been sold by the Veeraswamy family who ran it since 1926. The new brooms have refurbished it. No red flock wallpaper-style; the idea seems to represent the spread of the cuisine from North to Southern India. Very opulent decoration without very much OTT features.
So, this was the setting for my final experience of London dining. I invited my daughter and an Internet friend I'd not met other than over the ether. She brought her man but, even as a host, I have to say that my night was made wonderful by Caroline's bringing my grand-daughter Liberty along as a totally unexpected surprise. Liberty is a mid-teenager going on 25'ish and is so bright that she sparkles. She was in no way fazed by being in a party of oldies and held her own in conversation. And wine drinking! We did the usual thing of ordering a wide assortment of personal choices but robbing each other's dishes. It was a wonderful few hours that went by all too soon.
So, as the retreat from Empire progressed with many milestones, I've touched another milepost in my retreat. Sad I'll not see it's inside again but warm memories of some very very fine times are still with me. Last night was the cap put back on the bottle. I can live with that.
Just as I have already had my final ever long haul air flight and my final ever European holiday, this marked the last of my trips to London. It was just too much stress on the old body. My back gives in quite quickly carrying anything like an overnight bag and a few files. The actual travel is OK so I suppose I might make a lightweight run. The meeting was some contingency planning that SoS wanted to make regarding the publication by Lord Saville of his Inquiry findings of events of Bloody Sunday on 30 January 1972.
I was there when the thing went off at Londonderry and ran the first immediate investigation so it would be nice to be in at the death. Others at the meeting included three Generals and a very senior MOD official. And me. How a humble WOI got dragged into that sort of body, I'll never know. I have nothing to be afraid of but it seems our meeting was to debate just what needed to be done if there were any problems with the cover of anonymity given to many of the military witnesses should Saville attribute blame.
Seeing it might be the Final Night of John's Proms, I decided to make a bit of a night of it. The very first posh restaurant I went to was in 1942 when my father took me to a business lunch at Veerasawamy's Restaurant in Regent Street. I know not why - he was not one given to acknowledging fatherly treats. I was obviously impressed as it became a favourite watering hole for me as I progressed through courting and into marriage. During my time in the Army, we went there whenever we returned from foreign climes. Although it was an Indian restaurant it bore little resemblence to any such establishment of today. Possibly the best description would be to liken it to a Government resthouse in pre-Merdeka Malaya. It was the burra sahibs version of Indian eating. The food was vaguely Home Counties English with added spices. None of that curry stuff that the natives eat dontcherknow! Such dishes were available but were not the foremost items on the menu. Right from my first visual memory it had a sort of run down, faded charm. The staff were very discreet but one's glass was kept topped up and dishes came and went in an almost discreet manner.
Well, it has been sold by the Veeraswamy family who ran it since 1926. The new brooms have refurbished it. No red flock wallpaper-style; the idea seems to represent the spread of the cuisine from North to Southern India. Very opulent decoration without very much OTT features.
So, this was the setting for my final experience of London dining. I invited my daughter and an Internet friend I'd not met other than over the ether. She brought her man but, even as a host, I have to say that my night was made wonderful by Caroline's bringing my grand-daughter Liberty along as a totally unexpected surprise. Liberty is a mid-teenager going on 25'ish and is so bright that she sparkles. She was in no way fazed by being in a party of oldies and held her own in conversation. And wine drinking! We did the usual thing of ordering a wide assortment of personal choices but robbing each other's dishes. It was a wonderful few hours that went by all too soon.
So, as the retreat from Empire progressed with many milestones, I've touched another milepost in my retreat. Sad I'll not see it's inside again but warm memories of some very very fine times are still with me. Last night was the cap put back on the bottle. I can live with that.
Sunday, 26 April 2009
My Away Day
Getting ready for a pilgrimage to London tomorrow. I was invited to meet the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland in advance of the publication by Lord Saville of his report on the Bloody Sunday inquiry. Having been there when it all went off, I thought I should get in on the final act less one; hopefully I'll live to see the final story. The MOD are picking up all my expenses including travel and overnight accommodation which is nice of them. I will feel like an illegal immigrant getting all that from the Government!
It will give me the opportunity to make my own trial of the latest electronic wizardry with my Touch toy. I have bought some Wi time and will see how I get on on the train, in the hotel and in the street.
Dinner is laid on with Caroline and a friend from Facebook.
Report on the whole thing comes later
It will give me the opportunity to make my own trial of the latest electronic wizardry with my Touch toy. I have bought some Wi time and will see how I get on on the train, in the hotel and in the street.
Dinner is laid on with Caroline and a friend from Facebook.
Report on the whole thing comes later
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Those at the back shouted ‘Forwards’. Those at the front shouted ‘Back’.
I cannot now remember where I read the words of the title here – some Colonial bust up I suppose. I am reminded of them by the two incidents arising from Police conduct at the G20-linked demonstrations. Given that we do not yet know the full circumstances behind the very dramatic video footage, I will refrain from direct criticism, What does intrigue me is the way that the events have polarised the public’s attitude towards the police.
I subscribe to a forum where the members have very forthright views and the vocabulary to express these in colourful language. For months now, there have been threads where treatment only just short of capital punishment has been advocated against what are generally referred to as chavs. The overweening desire was that police act in a very positive manner. Full rigour of the law etc.
Now that we have images showing just what level of violence can be deployed, the firmness of character seems to have been diluted. It is fair to say that there is universal condemnation of police methods. There is a small proportion who condemn the way punishment was meted out but who attribute this to individuals and not as a Force policy.
Given that many of those who express anti opinions will have seen service in Northern Ireland at times when violent street demonstrations were common, this lack of sympathy for the individual copper is hard to understand. Whilst we see police armed with paramilitary weapons and riot kit, it would seem that there is a general air of restraint in their usage. The application of police baton and riot shield to civilians limbs and flesh should have led to many more injuries than were reported. The line where front line demonstrators meets front line police is a scary place. It is where the real effect of my title comes into play. The police press forward and, in the main, the public try and retreat. The people at the back in both parties are free to act – free to push on and free of the consequences where the two groups meet. Hitting a civilian with a view to getting them to put themselves at a range where they can do no harm to the police has absolutely no effect.
So, where do we go from here? Clearly, abandoning the streets to a mob cannot be permitted. There will be many who seek non-violent demonstration but the scenes of the attack on the RBS premises show that there are others with an agenda beyond mere demonstration. In terms of violence, the G20 crowds were relatively benign. The Poll Tax and Grosvenor Square were far more violent. What can happen if the thin blue line breaks was shown with the death of PC Blakelock who was hacked to death at Broadwater Farm. To take the easy road out and call for the use of the military to assist the civil powers is not an answer I would like to see introduced. Soldiers know only one thing when it comes to dealing with opposition – brute force and shooting to kill. Hearts and minds do not come into play at mob interfaces.
So, better training for the police or special police groups trained to deploy at demonstrations once tempers start to fray? My own choice would be specialist police. The French CRS were very effective when dealing with rioting after coming into being in Algeria. The Japanese have very specialised riot control forces where demonstrators resembled paramilitary forces and vastly outnumbered police. One of the problems I would anticipate in setting up such groups would be reluctance to finally destroy the image of PC Dixon. Unfortunately, Dock Green is now a far more violent place.
The Guardian has put together a collection of video recordings of the sort of thing I am concerned about.
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
De Blog am here
With all the fuss about El Gordo’s email problems, I feel a little hesitant at posting today. I had never imagined so much heat could be generated by the thoughts of one individual sent wandering off into the ether with little targeting or guidance.
Sure, Guido has a large following but I suspect that all his followers are of one mind anyway. Read one rant at the disclosures and you have read them all. For all practical purposes, nothing is served. Brown’s arrogance means that he will not ever consider himself in the wrong by employing personal staff with the attitudes now revealed.
If what was done – or planned to be done – was so very heinous, please tell me why Cameron has made so little of it? This annoys me more than the email plot really. If the Duty of the Opposition is to Oppose (a phrase of Winston Churchill’s father – he knew all about opposition), then Cameron is more of an ally than Leader of the Opposition. Whilst inertia has given the Tories a lead in the shadow election polls, that lead is not such that a few weasel words and empty promises would not lead to the return of Brown.
And that is something of far greater importance than a few schoolboy japes passed around amongst fools.
Saturday, 11 April 2009
Casual day
We set off today to find a replacement armchair. Norma has killed hers; the seat bit is collapsed and, whilst it may be extra comfy, it looks scruffy. I had wanted a replacement club chair style and had checked out a few second hand dealers. Scarce and when I did find one it turned out that the design was not as accommodating as my memory had it. Next choice was a reclining thing with a foot extension. Comfort was the main selection criteria.
Fort Kinnaird is the home of furniture shops up this end of the world. My sought after style would be expensive if not closely supervised so we started off at the cheaper end of the market. Surprisingly, I found what I wanted at the otherwise despised DFS outlet. Electric with back recline and foot rest all included.
We have to wait a bit as we want it in green leather rather than the black they hold as stock. It actually goes into far more recline mode – I felt as if I were about to give birth. This will be for me and Norma inherits the remaining armchair from the suite.
Of course, being at that end of the world we were not too far from our favourite foodie place and slid along there. No reservation but we are obviously known and a new table and seating arrangement was found and we were well ensconced.
Two defenceless bream were soon consumed. We did not have our usual server; a very bright and chirpy young woman with strangely dyed pinkish/red hair and the male alternative was not up to standard but the food (and gin and tonic) amply compensated.
Of course, the gin and tonic disqualified me from driving but did make me suitable for a long deep sleep all the way home.
So – nothing planned but a fine day indeed!
Friday, 10 April 2009
Home is the Hunter
I am conscious that I have been away from here for some while. No real reason behind not blogging; just I have had other things to do with the time I feel like spending at the console.
When we got the replacement car after my older car was written off by Farmer Giles, I decided to add a few bits. There are a number of places up here where one can only get patchy reception on a car radio so I decided to get a transmitter so that I could play my iPod through the radio. That was not a total success in that the adaptor for the iPod was not readily available – it was relatively aged. I had been looking at the Touch for a while and decided to change to that as my music resource.
The Touch is a wondrous machine and more or less took over my life. There are so many applications – many of them free. Loads to try and reject. Those kept had to be configured to best advantage.
Another planned improvement to the new car was a hands-free phone fitting. I got one that clips to the sun visor. Setting up that took a while. I got a new phone as the Treo was not holding a charge and had to be reserved purely for use with the sat nav. Choosing and setting up a new phone took a while.
So, that is where I have been and what has kept me away from here.
I’ll try and do better. But, the Touch keeps nudging me ……………
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