Electing or appointing?

The death of Ruth Ginsberg has raised some important questions, not the least of which is do we – or the US – want a judge who works according to principle, or one that values power above all else?

Personally, I’d prefer one, like Ruth Ginsberg, who puts principle at the top of their list.

Unfortunately, today’s news from the US seems to suggest that Trump will appoint a young[ish] woman whose lifetime position will no doubt speak mainly to power. She is, after all, a Republican and a devout Christian with fixed views on abortion and child-bearing. She has five (5) children from her own womb and two adoptive ones. Isn’t seven enough to be going on with? At least for now.

Of course, she may adopt one or two more if she is appointed and has loads more money than she can probably spend. Such is the life of those who either have or seek power.

The outcome of the US election is presently unknown. But – for this blogger – it can’t come soon enough.

And they’re still there!

It doesn’t seem to matter what they do, the Conservatives are still in power.

Only today Gavin Williamson is reported as being “sorry” for all the mistakes that his Government department has made that have led to thousands of young people being left with an uncertain future.

It beggars belief that he has not resigned immediately. In fact, it goes further than that. His department’s failure in this matter requires his removal. But he won’t go, because he’s a Johnson man.

And that is the root of the problem. They all seem to be Johnson men. Or Johnson women.

I guess we won’t see the back of them until he either loses the Conservative leadership or we have an election that puts them all – the lot of them – out on their ears.

Maybe then we’ll have a Government that listens to ordinary people who want to see the UK returned to being a country fit for everyone, not just the well-off.

Where now?

Last time I blogged it was in response to the Government’s ridiculous assertion that it will be “all over by Christmas”.

What on earth did they mean, and had no one responsible in Government thought that many would think that, like the First World War, our collective privations from Covid-19 would be “all over by Christmas”?

What bunk! And some foolish people believed it. They still flock to the beaches in the sunshine, often leaving their litter behind them.

Today the Office for National Statistics (ONS) is reporting that the British economy is facing the worst recession of any G7 country since records began. According to the ONS, Gross Domestic Product (GDP), a favoured economic benchmark, has fallen by more than 20% during the most recent quarter and looks like it’s still falling.

What then for the unemployed?

Where this is all headed beggars belief. We were the slowest out of the blocks to respond to the global pandemic and now we seem to be the most tardy in our response.

One can’t blame the Prime Minister, although all this has happened under the Conservatives and his leadership. The Cabinet must take collective responsibility. There are those among them who, despite Boris Johnson’s bluster and his gung-ho attitude, must have seen all this was coming.

It will not be “all over by Christmas”.

What will the Government say next?

A few days ago the Government of the UK introduced a new slogan, or at least a new[ish] catch-phrase: It’ll all be over by Christmas.

How many times have we heard that before? It’s been repeated endlessly as we have been remembering the outbreak of WW1. People believed then – as many of the country’s men marched off to be slaughtered – that it would all be over by Christmas. But war went on for four or five more years, with a dreadful loss of life on both sides, and uncertain consequences.

Now were are in much the same boat, with the present-day ‘donkeys’ in Whitehall, led by a man who looks at best like a clown or a buffoon, telling us that it will all be over soon, and the rest of us seeing no end at all to the encroachment of coronavirus on the lives we used to lead.

Does no one in Downing Street learn anything at all from (recent) history? You’d think that someone alive or at least thinking could remember that it really would be ‘all over by Christmas’. But not a bit of it. It’s as if all sloganeering – or memory of a catchphrase – had been forgotten by the authorities.

It’s enough to lead one to despair. The Government is already disgraced throughout much of the Western World for its tardiness in handling the pandemic. This latest piece of self-delusion ought to be enough to tip them into a pit marked “Total Uselessness”.

But it won’t. Rather like Donald Trump, Boris Johnson is determined to hang onto power for so long as he can, and will say anything to hold onto things as they are, so long as they keep him in office. The only difference being that it’s quite a while before the next Parliamentary election. Although we may see a leadership contest before then.

We should to be glad of that. Anyone would be better than Boris and his blustering manner with its dreadful slogans and catch-phrases..

It’s still with us

It seems it won’t go away. But, like everything else, this too must pass.

The question is: when.

I’m sure you’re as fed up with it all as I am. Stuck indoors (because of my age group) except for very short walks or time spent in the garden.

The people I feel sorry for are all those many in high-rise blocks with small families; no access to the outdoors for any of them, expect via a flight of stairs or a lift, if they’re lucky. No wonder people keep on likening it to being in prison. It must be very like that.

But it will pass; we just have to be patient and read as many books as we can, when we’re not watching old films on television, or trying to finish the multi-piece jigsaw puzzle (hard) that we started ages ago.


So, it’s going away

The outbreak of coronavirus is on the wane in the UK, or so we are told by our government.

But what is it, really? For me, it’s like a mist that’s been slowly drifting across the country. Sometimes you can see it clearly, creeping up on you; at others it’s almost invisible it’s so thin on the ground. And its appearance changes where you are. It’s not so  easy to see it in prosperous well-off areas, and easy to see in already economically hard-hit places like the Midlands, the North West and North East of England – though it looks as if it reached near-epidemic proportions in the London area, perhaps because of the high density of the younger population and the number of vulnerable elderly people living there.

But here in Devon, where most people seem elderly, it can hardly be made out; especially when – like me – you’re in that age-group that’s been told to stay at home. I have rarely been out – other than to sit in the garden with my beloved wife – since sometime in March. That’s a long time! So much so, I hardly know what Budleigh Salterton and the surrounding area actually look like. Oh, we’ve been out once – on one of our fine days – but only for a short drive to the Bicton Park area, with my wife doing the driving. And that’s it.

Still, I’ve read a number of books, and been able to get on with my Open University history course and learned quite a lot. So, it can’t be all bad.

But I do wish it would go away!

If it won’t last forever, then what

Coronavirus must have a lifespan. It can’t last forever.

However, its consequences could be far-reaching. We cannot go back to how things were,  with an endless fixation on economic growth in the Western World. The planet will not sustain it, and we shall all be plunged into catastrophe on a biblical scale.

Don’t just take my word for it. There are plenty of others who think the same way.

Thankfully, we have begun to rely less on fossil fuels, which must run out sometime, and we have seen that a sense of community – rather than the sense of ‘me’ – has taken hold, at least in the UK.

All this leads me to believe that we shall emerge from this so-called ‘crisis’ in better shape to deal with the future than we were before it emerged.

I hope so, anyway. But if the politicians in suits are left to their own pocket-lining devices, I doubt it. Their outlook and beliefs will last forever.

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A blessing in disguise

If there is one benefit the Coronavirus pandemic – and the subsequent lockdown – has granted us, it is that of isolation.

It has allowed us occasional bloggers some time. So we are able to say what we like, when we like. Which can’t be a bad thing.

At present, the important thing seems to be the daily Downing Street briefing which – in the absence of the Prime Minister – seems to be performed by any minister who happens to be handy. Hancock one day; Raab the next; Sunak on another. What are the Foreign Secretary and the Chancellor doing there?

So far, we’ve only seen Priti Patel, the Home Secretary, once at the time of writing this.

Coincidence? I doubt it. Patel did once said that all immigrants should be sent home, unless they could earn a decent wage within a week or so. Not for nothing has she been described as the Mistress of Smirk. She constantly seems to have an expression on her face that seems to say: Look at me. I’m in the Cabinet and you’re not.

At this rate, there will be a vacuum of power at the top of the Tory party, and we shall see a new leader of that odious bunch of self-regarding twats sitting round the Cabinet table.

What a blessing that would be. So long as it’s not Gove.

A game that’s been rotting for ages

Footballers seem to be getting it in the neck during these coronavirus days. Some are prepared to take a wage cut; others aren’t.

When some of them earn (?get?) as much in a week as some people get in a lifetime, it’s hardly surprising there’s a difference of opinion.

But what does anyone say about the poor supporter? Nothing much. At least, nothing much that’s worth listening to.

There are 22 players on the pitch, trying to win a game between 11 and 11. And there’s a referee and at least two other ‘officials’. Yet there could be as many as 55,000 watching on from the stands, and no one seems to listen to them.

Footballers are both sportsmen and entertainers. But to be paid what they are to entertain as many as 55,000 is absurd. It’s out of all proportion. A man or boy on the terraces can only dream of the riches afforded to one of his favourite players. Yet he – or even she – gets no voice at all.

It has ever been thus, sadly. Footballers have always been heroes, doing something that the rest of us wish we could do.

But surely, in these straightened times, the players could remember what they are doing? Playing a game so that others can watch them, not taking home wads of cash for a comparatively easy week’s work. They should think about what it must be like to be a toolmaker, or to work on a production line doing the same thing hour after hour.

Then, perhaps, we might see something that hasn’t been rotted by money, and a game that is played for its own sake not for wads of cash.

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Who’s he like now?

The more I think about him, and the more I read about both men, the more I think Boris Johnson begins to resemble Henry VIII. The same bombast; the same: ‘Look at me. Nothing is important except me’; the same devil-may-care attitude – ‘What the hell, I’ll go and play this afternoon” – and the same lack of interest in the common people.

When was the last time Boris saw a boarded up shop front in a high street or a ‘For Sale’ sign outside some out-of-town business premises or another?

When, for example, was the last time he visited one of the country’s many flood-hit areas? Even Jeremy Corbyn has managed to do that and, despite still being the leader of Her Majesty’s opposition, he isn’t much of a ‘somebody’ these days. Once his time is truly up, and the Labour Party has a new leader, he really ought to go back to the back-benches where he could always snipe at something or another.

In the meantime, we’re stuck with someone akin to King Boris. The only thing that marks him out from Henry VIII is that he doesn’t wear a funny hat, a doublet and hose and doesn’t have a male heir – at least, not one that we know of. All he has is an unknown successor, from either wing of the Houses of Parliament. Thank goodness we can vote on that. I don’t think it matters much at this stage who it is, so long as they are able to restore Parliament to something it used to resemble; a debating chamber where the nature of our country could be discussed and decided upon.

As it is, we’re left in a kind of Boris Land, not knowing what the country will look like in a couple of year’s time.

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