The Grauniad claims an exclusive – the story that the Danish gubmint plans to oppose Britain’s bid to reclaim control of its coastal waters to the exclusion of ‘traditional’ fishing partners. Apparently the Danes will present a legal case based on custom and practice dating back to the 1400s which will permit DK to continue net 40% of their catch in British waters – and the whole EU fleet to source a third of its fish there too.
Shades of Kirk Kent and the Viking invasion in 1983? Yes, which suggests the true precedent is the status quo prior to that, whereby Britain was in control! Since then the EU ‘accord’ has decimated the British fleet and allowed all and sundry to fish around our islands.
Like any admirable lady, Ms May reserves the right to change her mind. Irritants like the SNP and nonentities like Labour and the LimpDims must be side-lined while the real business of gubmint is dealt with. 08.06.2017 will be another bit of history for the UK. (Strains of Rule Britannia and the perfume of June roses.)
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.
Colin Dexter, the creator of E. Morse, the curmudgeonly Oxford detective, has died aged 86, having introduced us all to his favourite haunts in the city – like the Turf Tavern (above, if you can find it!). ‘Two pints of Flowers, please, landlord.’ Read more…
You may well frown, Prime Minister. He’s not leaving the back benches just yet. He’s taken a day-a-week job for £13k a day – oh yes, and he’s now editor of the Evening Standard in his spare time. Will he be a stranger to his Cheshire constituents?
The prophets of doom need a cause. The flavour this year is Brexit failing and the downfall of civilisation as we know it. Every hack has an informed source to prove the point; conspiracies, rebellions and incompetence abound in every corner of the Tory camp. Allegedly.
So may I respectfully aver that the Eurolands have no interest in a dead Brexit, whatever their unelected prats may say. In the next two years the wobbly wilderness aka the EU will be struggling to avoid further flounces, bankruptcies and distractions; never mind scoring a famous own-goal by upsetting its almost-former member, their trusted trading partner.
So come on Ms May, do it on Tuesday and stick it to those self-satisfied Europrats.
Who or what is the entity known as ‘I’? The whole composite of mind and body? Or just the persistent voice in ‘my’ head that tries to deal with the rest? And how do ‘my’ deep-sleep dreams fit into the definition you prefer? Thinkers down the ages have wrestled with the topic and supernaturalists have formulated conflicting explanations, leading to revolution and war. And now some new science will fuel the flames of the debate. There seems to be brain activity after ‘death’ as defined by accepted medical practice.
Does this persistent brain activity have any ‘purpose’? Is the owner ‘conscious’ of it? That is, what is it for, if anything? Or is it like the decapitated chicken that keeps on running? Or a turbine spinning after shut-down?