Author: janus

I'm back......and front - in sunny Sussex-by-the-sea

Nobel prize for nostalgia

 

Back in the mists of student days and nights, Bob Dylan used to sing:

”…..Take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time
Far past the frozen leaves
The haunted frightened trees
Out to the windy bench
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky
With one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea
Circled by the circus sands
With all memory of fate
Driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I’m not sleepy and there ain’t no place I’m going to
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I’ll come following you……..”

The ritual dance

It is now a couple of days since Ms May filed for divorce. And it is still ‘news’, so the esteemed (and other) meeja seem determined to comment on every jot and tittle, nay every molecule of the first exchanges between the combatants. But boredom will soon set in – cf. a ‘nine-day wonder’ – and remember a week is a long time in politics.

Few commentators wish to recognise (at least in public) that there is a standard procedure when any negotiation starts. I recall life in several craft-based industries which reviewed their pay-and-benefits-scales every year. The protagonist stepped up, all mouth and trousers, with a proposal he knew was unacceptable. The antagonist objected with thunderous determination never to accept it. Neither was real life. It took days or sometimes weeks or months to ‘come together’.

So when the UK and EU have marked each other’s cards and the meeja have gone into the extreme boredom mode, the real work will begin. Patience, everyone.

A day with friends

As I’ve mentioned before, the Danish royals are on welfare, but undeterred by such inappropriate considerations, they treated their Belgian peers to the best of everything. Sans the Prince  Consort, who has taken his bat home to France after being denied kingship (again). A good time was had by all, especially the Crown Prince who does little else but have a good time, unlike his Tasmanian wife, the fashion queen of Scandinavia.

If you’d like to witness some conspicuous consumption, the Mail has it all:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-4358434/Princess-Mary-dazzles-state-banquet-Belgian-royals.html

…and thicker

Squeeze the facts to fit the goal – and yes, your bum does look big when you do!

There’s a self-styled voice of reason in the Olde Countrie called the committee for the protection of rural England or CPRE for short. Its latest protest concludes that the major road projects over the past few decades have failed to the extent that they have increased the traffic on the roads affected!

I’m tempted to write ‘d’oh!’ But Backside is otherwise imprisoned today so here’s a more reasonable response.

They cite the Newbury bypass as evidence. Now I remember it from before it was installed – a legendary bottle-neck in Newbury town which held up north/south traffic every day. Of course the CPRE is correct, the traffic was diverted and the town recovered. And the traffic entered rural Emgland’s holy portals. But more traffic? Unlikely. Why suddenly drive around remote villages? Maybe a few white vanmen enjoyed careering along ‘short cuts’ but they’ve always done that.

I must consign the CPRE to its fate as a special interest group we cannot rely on!