Seriously! Who would be a teacher?

Why would anyone want to be a teacher these days? The government is busily robbing current teachers of their pensions. They are forcing teachers - who statistically enjoy very short retirements before the accumulated stress of the job kills them - to work for even longer for less pension at the end of it. And then they are being criticised for daring to take a stand.

The Tory Gumby in charge of education

Yes - teachers will be going on strike this week. About time. But here is the real stinker. This week the government is planning to make it harder to enter the profession. There will be more exacting standards required of them. Fair enough, perhaps, if you are trying to give the impression that you need to be high calibre to do the job. But the same Minister who is demanding these higher standards has also suggested that perhaps parents and volunteers could step into the classroom this week to cover while the teachers are out on strike. A job so hard we need the very best - but easy enough that any Tom Dick or Harriet could just step in and do it at the drop of a hat.

More forceful than the average teacher

Of course, I blame the government. But I blame the profession even more. There are three major teachers' unions. Teachers rarely speak with one voice and rarely act with one intent. Three unions equals no union. They are too reticent to act in their own interests and, as a result, are mucked about by successive governments. Teaching is a really tough job and they deserve to be paid well and receive a decent pension. To stand back and let the government steal their (relatively high contribution) pensions would be such a pathetic climbdown. Teachers need to grow a backbone, amalgamate their unions and stop acting like glorified child-minders. They are graduate professionals and they deserve to be treated as such. But it will only happen if they decide to grow a spine and protect their own interests.

City of Dreams

I left my heart in Liege. Who wouldn't? The minute I set eyes on its glorious cityscape I have longed to return. Here is one of my favourite attractions in downtown Liege. Isn't it lovely?

Talking to the latest versions

Having experienced a birthday in the last week, I am thoughtful of the advancing years and mindful that my generation are handing over to the next. The latest versions of the family genes are already grown up and purposeful - and it is always wonderful to get together with them and share some quality time. As nephews and niece(s) go, these are as fine a bunch as one could ever wish for.

The most famous resident of Wells - the baby-eating Bishop

Bath (and Wells) was the venue. A decent lunch and pattiseries were on the menu and talking & walking were the order of the day. Given their level of intellect, the conversation was more Exhibition Road than Eastenders -  and thank goodness for that. I don't care much for TV, Lady Gaga or stag nights - something that is shared by these marvellous individuals. We did talk about this though. This video has popped up out of the ether and it is just fascinating. A remote tribe meets europeans for the first time and are terrified by the 'ghosts' in their midst. As they tentatively approach, with their arrows and axes trained on the 'intruders', will they let rip or will they have the courage to investigate face to face? The tension is spell-binding...

Sounding like a Tory

I am sitting watching Question Time on BBC1. Norman Baker, Liberal Democrat MP, is appearing as a representative of the Con-Dem government, alongside two celebs, some Labour nobody and John Redwood representing Mars. What is almost chilling about this programme is the fact that Norman Baker sounds like a dyed-in-the-wool true-blue tory.

Go and shove a big blue rosette on your lapel, Norman

I really don't know what has happened to the Lib Dems. I understand that they have had to make compromises, but that doesn't mean throwing away everything you have ever believed in. If David Cameron is watching this, he must be chuckling his way through the programme in contrast to old school Liberals who must intermittently be crying in between bouts of nausea. Cameron - you have won. The Lib Dems have sold their soul to your party for a slice of life at the Cabinet table.

"Nice one, Norman!"

Fortunately, some members of the audience seem to be raising this very point. Good! As expected, Norm is oblivious to the criticism and is spouting the same old tired excuses. Go play on the road, Tory Boy.

Hague warns the Syrians

William Hague - World Statesman par excellence - has warned the Syrian leadership that they will have to go if they do not mend their wicked ways.

Just like he told Colonel Gaddafi that he had to go. Yeah! That worked, didn't it William? You really are a complete waste of space! I bet the Syrians are really really scared.

Wimbledon!

Hurrah for Wimbledon! Yes, another tantalising two weeks of terrific tennis to whet our appetites. And aren't we ever so hopeful that one of our British tennis stars will do the business this year? Come on Andy Murray - make us all proud to be British!

Martin Jones (GB) - New strategy this year

Results of Day 1

Centre Court

Anna Bestova (Rus) bt Kylie Smith (GB) 3-0 (6-0, 6-0, 6-0)

Pierre Honhihon (Fra) bt Andy Murray (GB) 3-0 (6-0, 6-0, 6-0)

Franco Portelli (Ita) bt Martin Jones (GB) 3-0 (6-0, 6-0, 6-0)

Brian Haw - follow-up

I heard some dreadful MP on the radiogram today, moaning about what an eyesore Brian Haw was. I don't know what party he represents, or which constituency sent him to parliament, but all I could think of while listening to this pathetic bore was how Brian Haw's protest was a far greater symbol of real democratic freedom than any of the lying money-grabbing leeches who slime their way into the Commons on the other side of the road.

As a symbol of what was possible in a democracy, Brian's presence said more than any MP could muster. It was certainly more powerful than the statue of Cromwell (murdering tyrant that he was) that graces the space opposite. What would a visiting despot have made of Brian's protest? To see a scruffy rag-bag collection of tents and homemade placards, organised by an ordinary citizen, sitting in the shadow of the 'mother of parliaments', the presence of which the courts defended on a number of occasions against the wishes of embarrassed politicians - surely even they would have recognised this as a symbol of true democracy.

So, go and boil your head, Mr MP. Go back to your fat cat friends and your cosy commons bar. You cannot hold a candle to this man and what he represented. That he could do what he did - that's a finer measure of freedom than you could ever express. That he chose to do what he did - that's a finer measure of his love of mankind than you will ever be capable of. And if we don't have all the freedoms that we should enjoy, we know who to blame for that too...

First day at my new job

I am making preparations for my first day in my new job. It feels a little bit like starting at a new school... ironed my shirt, polished my shoes, got my pens and pencils ready, hoping I don't get bullied... and so on. Do I bring an apple for my boss? Will I know where to sit? When can I eat my sandwiches?

Making a Stand

Brian Haw has died. He was only 62 and lost his battle against lung cancer. He had maintained a visible protest in Parliament Square, campaigning against the various wars that the UK government had become involved in in recent years. All the authorities did their best to have him removed, but they deservedly failed. The last attempt, by Boris Johnson, was to have his tent moved from the green and onto the pavement, despite the fact that he was suffering from cancer. Nice one, brave Boris.

I met and chatted to Brian on a number of occasions. Any time I found myself in central london, I would make a point of visiting his protest site. He was a man who believed that just having a view was not enough. He made a stand - a truly brave and visible stand - and he successfully fought off the various attempts to have him removed by the spineless warmongering authoritarians of successive governments. He held them to account and made quite a sacrifice in the process. A truly decent man.

Something really interesting to report

The tricky part of maintaining a blog is coming up with interesting morsels with which to feed your readers. It's not always possible, but one tries to scrap around as best one can so that the readers will want to come back for more. Today is one of those days, so the outcome might be a bit on the thin side. Mind you, even thin slices can be entertaining - don't we all enjoy laughing at silk purse/pigs ear conflagrations?

OK! Don't laugh at me please - this is all I have to offer. Here's what happened. I paid a visit to my aunty today. She was telling me that there was an actor staying in the house next door, while he was acting in the theatre in Belfast. That might be interesting, I thought.  

'So, who is he'?

'Adrian Dunbar', she said.

'I've heard of him - I think. He's one of those actors you see on TV all the time, isn't he?'

This was beginning to develop into a marginally interesting anecdote - you know - worthy of a mention on the blog, perhaps. And you will know Adrian Dunbar. He's been in things and when you see his picture, you will say (perhaps out loud)...

'Oh him - yes, I've seen him in things'.

Then you will try to think of where you have seen him before.  

'What's he been in - I know him, I really do. He's been in all sorts'.

Then you will think again, but nothing definite will come to mind. At this point, I was starting to wonder whether this was going to be worthy of mention to anyone, ever. I tossed it around, saying it out loud...

'When I was at my aunties in Belfast last week, that actor fellow Adrian Dunbar was staying next door. You don't recognise the name, no? If you saw him, you'd recognise him. He's been in all sorts of things.'

That's when I realised that this anecdote may not have legs. Maybe Adrian - fine actor that he is, and all - maybe he's just not famous enough to merit an anecdote. And then I thought about the content. He was staying next door to my aunt. Is that really significant enough to make the story interesting? Maybe if I'd had dinner with him, or talked to him or something - that might just work. But an actor who nobody had heard of, that I didn't really have any association with other than a possible geographical proximity to - it's just not the stuff of legends.

But regardless, that is my entry for today. I visited my aunty and she has Adrian Dunbar - that actor in lots of things whose face you might recognise - staying in the house next door to her. Sadly, it just doesn't get more interesting than that. Anyway, that's your lot. If you don't appreciate my efforts, go and make up your own stories. If you think that you could do better, then I am waiting to hear who you nearly saw today? Stumped! I thought so. Honestly, some people are so hard to please!

Ewww! Watch it yourself!

The exalted leader had his eye operation this week. They removed the old lens in his left eye and replaced it with a plastic one (I think I have mentioned this in an earlier post). It's all very clever stuff, but I don't really want to know the gory details of what actually happened. I have enough difficulty just looking at this picture of an eye never mind imagining how they cut, injected and did other unspeakable things to it. Ewww!

Not that the same can be said of the patient. All he seems to want to do with his new bionic eye is to watch Youtube videos of the operation, complete with all the cutty, stabby injectiony procedures that they do to this delicate organ. I can assure you, as I have assured him, that he is on his own. I am getting all numb and icky just thinking about it. Anyway, far be it for me to impose my own values on others. If you want to see this delicate operation for yourself, you are more than welcome. Just don't ask me to join you.

Role Models - Don't make me laugh!

Ryan Giggs has made a bit of a splash recently. The tabloids, fresh from complaining about the prevalence of sexualising influences on the young, have been full of tittle tattle about the footballer's extra-curricular activities. They have been busy splashing this story around and making hay while the scent is fresh (too many metaphors - sorry!)

One of the big complaints against Giggsy is that he is a role model. The red tops have been quick to condemn his actions on that basis - that young people will be tempted to emulate the actions of their footballing hero and follow his path to the dark side. It hasn't worried them that their own papers are full of scantily clad women and 'stories' about the sexual exploits of minor celebrities. The responsibility stops at Ryan himself. He is the role model and they are blameless in the crusade to clean things up for the impressionable and vulnerable.

Still, we all know that tabloids are disgusting hypocritical rags, unfit to wipe the spotty bottoms of the most squalid curry-eating tramps. What makes me laugh is the idea that footballers are role models. How can the choices made by educationally challenged multi-millionaires, paid handsomely for kicking a bag of leather around a patch of grass, be seen as worthy of emulation by the young? Any parent who complains about the influence of footballers' pecadillos on their children has basically admitted to being a bad parent. If a worried parent feels that they have less influence on their children than shadowy figures in the media, then they have failed - big time.

Football exists on a planet of its own. The same rules that apply to the rest of society don't apply on planet football. The governance of FIFA is a well-known joke for starters. The money that these players are paid is mind-blowing. The cost of tickets that often poor fans are prepared to pay is staggering. And the general behaviour of managers, players and chairmen is an ongoing embarrassment.

At present, for instance, two clubs are arguing over a manager. The manager has just resigned from one club and another club is desperate to bring him on board. Both clubs are fighting over this man and it is all rather unseemly. In the real world, one might assume that he must be a very talented manager. He must be a real winner with a great track record. But no! Alex McLeish, until recently manager of relegated club Birmingham City, oversaw the club losing its status in top flight football. As managers go, he might just be considered a failure. But ambitious club Aston Villa cannot wait to get their hands on Mr Failure - even though the Villa fans think he is worse than useless. Goodness knows why these clubs are fighting over McLeish. In the real world, he would have been sacked by Birmingham and Villa would be laughing at the suggestion that he might manage them. But this is not a real world situation, using real world criteria. If these rules operated in the real world, I would be Prime Minister by now.

Villa fans don't want Mr Failure

So, maybe we should stop looking to football and footballers to be our role models. Perhaps parents should be telling their children to look elsewhere. Maybe it would be sensible to explain that these are just overpaid, spoiled and inarticulate individuals who operate in a different world with different rules. Just perhaps, they could just talk to their children and, you know, help them establish some standards to help them live their lives by. I always thought that that's what parents did. Obviously, I was wrong.

Still room for the babies

One of the joys of coming to Belfast these days is seeing how much the place has improved since the end of 'The Troubles'. As a kid, the place was constantly under a cloud - a sea of barbed wire, security barriers, soldiers, burned out buses and flags flying from every conceivable 'sticking place'. That has all gone - the city looks and feels great and the best thing that people say about the politics here is that it has become boring.

Security Barriers in Belfast Shopping Streets - now gone

These days, they talk about health care and schools and creating new jobs. There is a sense that there is a growing maturity making its presence felt amongst the political classes. Former members of opposing terrorist organisations meet together, sit down together and agree on policy together - as elected politicians - and the old age of sectarian gesturing seems a long time ago.

Or maybe not. Sadly, there is still room for the babies. This story is currently doing the rounds at present. Judge for yourself the level of maturity displayed by this political pygmy. A Unionist Councillor in Limavady, Boyd Douglas, has taken to displaying a union flag in meetings in contravention of the council's policy. The policy is designed to cut out opportunities for distracting displays of allegiance in order to promote the real business of the Council. Mr Boyd is trying to make a point and he eventually took the flag down, though he claims he will fly it again. The BBC reported...

Monday's meeting was delayed for over an hour while Sinn Fein mayor Sean McGlinchey took legal advice. Mr Douglas eventually took down the flag, claiming he would have removed it last week had he been asked "nicely".

Grow up, you big baby!

Had he been asked nicely. There you go - that is the mark of the man. I have seen toddlers with a greater sense of maturity than that. There are still politicians in Northern Ireland who pander to the lowest and most childish instincts present in the population. How very, very sad. Clearly there is some way to go. I hope Mr Boyd gets to reflect on his actions - not now - but when he is an old man and after a new generation of serious politicians has permanently moved the agenda onto real issues. I hope he becomes flushed with embarrassment. The time for the babies to grow up is long overdue. Seriously Mr Boyd - do us all a favour. Go wave your flag somewhere else.

Living with a Pirate

The exalted leader has had an op on his eye. They tend to do this sort of procedure these days to those of a senior disposition - swapping an old clapped out lens with a brand new shiny plastic one. This heralds an age when we will soon be getting most of our body parts replaced with bits of plastic or brushed aluminium. I quite fancy a Bakelite nose - I like a retro look. The trouble is that I am now sharing the apartment with someone who looks like a pirate.

Ok! He doesn't have a moustache or an evil grimace on his face. Actually, now that I mention it, he doesn't have long hair, a hat, or any other pirate paraphernalia, but you know what I mean. He has an eye patch - therefore, he's a pirate. I was rather hoping that we could have driven around south Belfast with him leaning out of the window making menacing pirate sounds and threatening to splice people's 'main braces' or whatever, but apparently he has to just sit down and rest. Shame! These opportunities don't come around very often.

Well maybe that will have to wait for another time. For now, the streets of Belfast are safe. But he will be getting the other eye done some time in the near future and I may well get this thing organised properly for the next time. Anyway, gotta go. I think that I can hear pirate stirrings coming from the next room and you know what that means. I've got to go dispense some pirate medicine now. Ah-harrrr!

Now I remember...

It has rained all day here in Belfast. I love the city but I have been amply reminded why I live in Reading. The exalted leader has gone on a trip to the other bit of Ireland and I am sure he has been rained on all day too. It is, after all, why Ireland is so green. The South & East of England may be suffering a drought, but there is little chance of that happening here. Rain is an ever-present. The national sport is 'raining'. Rain is the number one pastime of the people and the nation's favourite dish is rain.

 

We're not letting it stop us from having fun. We haven't quite reached the 'Fr Ted & Dougal on Holiday' level yet. You know - when they were stuck in that caravan because it was raining all the time...

Something to hold on to...

I am in Belfast. Hurray! I left Reading this morning and here I am after all that traveling. I used to love traveling but I don't find it much fun these days. Still, there was something that got me through the day - something to hold on to - and for that I am so grateful.

You will no doubt have heard the great news. Brucie has earned a knighthood. And not before time if you ask me. How can there be any justice in the world when this man has been ignored by the establishment for so long? This is a miscarriage of justice put right. Arise Sir Bruce. Go forth across this realm, armed with your trusty catch-phrases. Bring light where there is darkness and do that funny little stutter thing when you say 'alright my love'. That's just brilliant!

In other news, some scientist who saved millions of lives got a CBE for his efforts and lots of other genuine deserving cases got ignored. Still, who cares? Brucie got a knighthood! A much deserved accolade for a multi-millionaire who has clearly not been rewarded for his efforts over the years.

Fry & Laurie - Blooper

Blooper programmes are usually cheap and unfunny television. Mind you, I do love what Fry & Laurie have done with the genre. This is what happens when those crazy guys from the Open University get their sums wrong...

Phillip at 90 - A new respect for the Queen

I fell asleep on the sofa tonight whilst I was watching the news. I woke up with the TV still blabbing away in the corner and I carried on slumbering deliciously, picking up snippets of the programme that was showing. It was a BBC interview with the Duke of Edinburgh.

Good lord! Is that what the Queen has had to put up with over the years? I genuinely feel sorry for her. I know that he is about to turn 90, but he came across as a man of very few words and those that he did manage were delivered in a terse and grumpy fashion. I have a new respect for 'her maj'. Dragging him around over the years must have been a real barrel of laughs.

Of course, the whole programme was an exercise in gushing and fawning. Apparently he won World War II all by himself, he...<insert your own favourite BBC royal gushings here>... and his farts are capable of curing cancer. Oh please! Do me a favour! Anyway, I think that it is my duty to introduce some balance to the proceedings by reminding us why all of us really love this man - his famous gilt-edged gaffes.

With all new Gaffe-Map, you too have a chance to enjoy them all over again. Simply click the tags on this world map to reveal a delicious selection of racist and insensitive cultural catastrophes. You not only get the gaffe - but you learn just how well he has spread his special talent across this big bad world of ours. For fans of his home-grown howlers, zoom in to the UK to get access to the massive cluster so generously delivered on this little island of ours. Now that's what I call service to the nation!

Israel wins another Barf Award

There's little one need add to this video. The sooner the West, and especially the US, stops propping up this disgusting fascist state, the better. The Palestinians are treated like dirt and live in an apartheid system. This is how they are treated by the 'ordinary' israeli citizens...

And so, it only remains for me to present these ghastly people and this disgusting state with yet another Barf Award. Israel, you make me sick...

George & Zippy are dead!

Noooooooooooooooo!

I don't believe it. The voice of George & Zippy from Rainbow, Roy Skelton, has died. Damn you universe! How could you take him from us? Roy was also the voice of the daleks. It's all too much for me to take in. Excuse me while I weep helplessly in the corner...

 

Zippy has been zipped. The daleks have been exterminated. George is left speechless. It's just not fair. 

Me! Anti-American?

Some people accuse me of being anti-american (or 'ant-eye-mercan' as those transatlantic dummies would pronounce it). Nothing could be further from the truth. I love Uncle Sam. The USA is in the top three of my favourite countries in North America - just behind Canada and Mexico (though I'm not much of a fan of either of those countries).

To be fair, it's not the people that I object to, though there are quite a few that I find objectionable. I don't have much time for their politicians, who prove themselves to be such sleazebags all the time. Anway - enough of the talk (did you notice that I didn't stick the word 'already' on the end of that sentence. Why? Because it didn't need it - take note Uncle Sam). Here is a nice picture that sums up my love for the USA and its people. And I couldn't care less whether you think I am sincere or not (did you notice that I didn't write 'could care less' because that is the opposite of what is meant - take note Uncle Sam).

I've calmed down now

That rant about americans and their love of their ghastly politicians was just what the doctor ordered. Sometimes you just need to get that sort of thing off your chest. Not that other countries have anything to shout about - here in the UK our politicians can be just as bad.

So, anyway, here is a picture of some ducks. You may notice that not all of the ducks are actual authentic living ducks. I wonder if you can spot the false duck. If you can - well done!

There can be few things more calming than a duck. Ducks, by definition, are sedatives. If you are feeling a bit frisky - a bit stressed and in need of relaxation - then take a duck. Ducks can be difficult to swallow, so take some water with your duck. Don't worry - ducks are used to water.

Anyway, if you have any duck-related stories - humorous or otherwise - feel free to leave a comment below. By the way, if you didn't manage to spot the false duck in the photo, it is the yellow one in the foreground. (If you look closely, you will see that it is made of plastic)

Crazy Place - but a beautiful film

This is a beautifully shot piece about the Salton Sea - an accidental sea formed during flooding of a low lying basin in California in 1905. It became a tourist destination - but rapid salination of the sea eventually brought tourism to an end and made a ghost town of the resort. This is a fascinating film about what remains...

I'm back!

I know that I kicked the blog into touch having had such a low readership, but I'm back now. I just couldn't stay away. Every time I see an news item that makes my blood boil I just want to dive in here and put the world to rights. So much has happened since my last entry. Time to let rip...

Vacuous air-head - as dumb as she looks

The race to become the Republican nominee to challenge Barack Obama next year has started to take shape. And what a fine shape it is. Turd-shaped, I'd guess. Republican air-head Sarah Palin showed herself up yet again by demonstrating that she knows less about American history than I do. She was visiting 'historic' Boston and she blabbed some fairytale version of the Paul Revere story to reporters that could not have been more wrong. (Normally I would have linked to Wikipedia's entry for Paul Revere, but followers of Palin have tried to spare her blushes by doctoring the entry to make her version appear correct - the entry has now been frozen after 70 re-edits have been attempted in the last few days).

Anyway, she refused to admit that she had got it wrong and came up with some contrived and convoluted excuse to make it appear that she was somehow correct in her utter wrongness. Once again, the very people who claim to represent the spirit of the founding fathers of the US have no idea about their own history and will lie and cheat rather than admit their mistake. These people have no scruples at all. The likes of Palin and fellow Republican wooden-head Michelle Bachmann have shown themselves up time and time again - without ever apologising or admitting their mistakes.

Rick Santorum - oh please - just one round with Mike Tyson

Another Republican Presidential hopeful and professional scumbag, Rick Santorum, has suggested that health care disrespects those americans who died on the beaches at Normandy. Seriously! I can imagine that those troops would have felt pretty gutted if, in their dying moments, they could have imagined that in 60 odd years time, ordinary poor americans might just have had access to health care. What a slap in the face. Strangely, he seems to have forgotten that when the british troops got back home, one of the first things the post-war government did was to set up a decent health care system, free at the point of use, as a mark of respect to a generation who had fought on neighbouring beaches in Normandy. Mind you, if only that was the most idiotic thing he has ever said - most of his previous rantings are utterly vile and a quick check on his Wiki page is enough to bring out the sickbags.

Well, americans, you get what you deserve. You vote for these people time and time again. Your love affair with desperately untalented and stupid rich people has brought your country to its knees and makes it an embarrassing stain on the face of democracy. Well, I for one don't care. Go on, elect some lying moron to 'defend your freedom' by giving tax breaks to their rich friends whilst you wave goodbye to the health care that they have convinced you is nothing more than a communist plot. When you're bleeding to death from a ruptured appendix because you can't afford to visit a hospital, you can comfort yourself that at least some rich banker somewhere can afford a second yacht as a symbol of your hard-fought freedoms.

Stupid, stupid people. You sad brain-washed morons! You are a nation of insular, non-passport owning, intellectually-challenged, bigots with no idea just how owned you really are. Owned - by the politicians who lie to you, by the corporations who shaft you, and the rich that bleed you dry and tell you that it's all about defending your freedom. You wouldn't know freedom if it came up and head-butted you and you wouldn't feel it anyway because you lack a brain to process the pain. Go away. You annoy me!