Post 432. I HAVE AGAIN LOST MY GMAIL.

NO MESSAGES IN OR OUT.

NOBODY CAN FIND IT.
That's it. Nobody. Not even computer lifeboat captain Neil.
I asked Ellis and he tried. No luck. He thought I would have to ask Neil. So I did.
I try not to call out the computer lifeboat nowadays - our son has more than enough on his plate - but he happened to be here, for some reason beyond my elderly recollection, and I quickly roped him in to investigate why the server is so firmly rejecting my login. He had limited time but he tried. No luck. So if you are one of the few who has my email address and has intended using it to message me; forget it,  friend. I have hit a wrong key somewhere and that's that for now. 
What? Oh I have Googled it. Plenty of instructions from experts, none of whom I can understand. So back we go to

TELEVISION.

AND HOORAY FOR NETFLIX where we recently binge watched Stranger Things. Lovely lunacy.
For good measure we watched (and, in some cases, re-watched) our every recorded episode of Beck. Lively police action apart, Peter Haber as Martin Beck and Ingvar Hirdwall as his neighbour are a double act par excellence. It takes talent and experience to get timing that good. Bravo!

We also tuned in to the BBC series Sherwood. A superb cast played James Graham's harrowing story of lasting embitterment in a defunct mining village to perfection. David Morrissey, as DCS Ian St. Clair, topped the list of a cast packed with star actors. A thought-provoking six episodes.

That's all for this month.
Try to be safe. Try to be considerate.

On the world situation? Words fail me

 

 

 

Post 431.WHY I AM NOT SURPRISED

AT THE DISAPPEARING PM 

WHO WILL BE IN UKRAINE milking popularity the moment the shit threatens to hit the fan at home. It ain't diplomacy, folks, it's self-preservation that activates the Winston Thatcher persona, and it does not surprise me in the slightest. Now the crafty little responsibility dodger has been seeking further approval in Ukraine. Partygate won't go away and Master Johnson's sniffy Latin one-upmanship obviously eschews the phrase hircum hic sistit.

Here at home his universally detested Home Secretary, Priti Patel, is seriously considering the electronic tagging of all uninvited Channel crossers, presumably on the grounds that they are all petty criminals too. Oh dear oh dear. But I am not surprised. 

NOR WAS I SURPRISED

TO LEARN THAT THE COLUMNIST YASMIN ALIBHAI-BROWN'S recent fall, as she was boarding an underground train in London, left her lying helpless and in considerable pain on the floor of the carriage for two stops without a solitary approach by a fellow passenger. Three people finally came to her assistance as they were coming to the third stop, but her experience from then on was equally distressing until she finally came into kindly staff hands and eventually reached hospital where it was found she had badly broken bones in her upper right arm. She will by now have undergone surgery and one can only hope that all will go well and wish her a swift and complete recovery. But she had not encountered the sort of London she thought she knew.
Sadly, I am not surprised. I have a village mentality and, on my few solitary visits to London, found it to be the loneliest place in the entire world. You didn't pass the time of day there. But she has lived and worked there for years and thought she knew it. I am sorry it has changed for her.
For me England today is an insular self-serving shambles much like its government.

Which unfortunately has no opposition so is unlikely to be dislodged in my lifetime.

So to end on a happier note... 

GLAD THAT IAN RANKIN HAS BEEN KNIGHTED.

I THINK HE'S ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS

A damn good writer, too.

That's it for now.
Talk Isle of Wight Festival at the end of the month.

Post 430. THE ROYALS WILL SURVIVE.

THANKS TO AN ELDERLY LADY

WHO HAS DONE ME NO HARM.
If you are one of those discreetly discerning people who regularly looks in on my meanderings you will know that "an elderly lady who has done me no harm" has for years been my jocular accompaniment to the words Queen Elizabeth II. It may have suited neither the pomp of royalty nor the fawning fiddle-faddle of those who unashamedly kowtow, but it has not been badly meant. I am no unquestioning royalist. Given a pair of scissors anyone can cut a ribbon. But I once articulated my slightly facetious "...who has done me no harm" quote to a vague supporter of royalty whose immediate response was: "Nor good" and realised that, true though that was, it did not change my outlook on the Queen. I would rather ensconce a royal in a castle than raise the portcullis for a politician of whatever ilk. Just look at what Trump did and what Putin is doing. Just consider what an undesirable country this became when Oliver Cromwell held the reins. The further away from symbols of power you can keep politicians, the better.

Since we stopped monarchs cutting people's heads off and kept them in their place they have been much safer denizens of castles and palaces than any drawbridge crossing politicians would be. For what it is worth, I think the lady pictured above has probably, in the politest way possible, told more than one British Prime Minister to stop being such a bloody idiot and, if only in that delightful possibility, has surely determined the survival of the royal family in Britain.
Well, she has done me no harm. Have I said that before?
AND BACK AT HOME.

SOME CONFOUNDED CLOWN has been sending telephone messages to people as far away as Reading and Oxford giving them our number and asking them to ring us. It now appears that other homes in this village are being pestered by presumably the same unknown pain in the arse's handiwork. There was a time when the instigators of such lunacy were sought out, sectioned, and shut away in asylums. What price progress?

Will chat again later.

Don't ring.