Return of the Amir

This Thursday England lock horns with Pakistan in the first test at Lord’s. In the tourists side will be the fast bowler, Mohammad Amir. Now aged 24, Amir was found guilty of spot-fixing on his last appearance at the home of cricket, six years ago. He was banned from cricket for five years and served three months in prison. Debate still rages on at all levels of the cricket community over whether Amir should still be allowed to play.

I take Morgan Freeman’s side on this. These are his words from The Shawshank Redemption when he faced the parole board.

There’s not a day goes by I don’t feel regret. Not because I’m in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then, a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I wanna talk to him. I wanna try to talk some sense to him — tell him the way things are. But I can’t. That kid’s long gone and this old man is all that’s left. I gotta live with that.

Britannia at her glorious best

We have regrouped, dug in and manned our battle stations. A new PM, a determined House and a clear objective: Brexit.

All the Europrats can think about is sending the bill for  a budget infringement! Excuse us – we’re still subsidising the Euroflops.

So gawd ‘elp ’em – when they return from their hols.

A first time for everything

First time in a pub: was 15, was smuggled in by older boys, had three vodkas and orange, was stretchered out.

Son’s first cup of coffee: I don’t drink the stuff and neither do the offspring, though my younger son decided to take the plunge into the unknown for experimental reasons. He said “JW Jnr’s first cup of coffee”. After much gurning and vomiting he said “JW Jnr’s last cup of coffee!”

First ever video recorder owned: Betamax!!!! The boffins at school (FEEG and all his gang) claimed it was the superior technological weapon in the VCR wars. Later, the hegemony of VHS was ended by DVD. In hindsight, maybe the makers of Betamax should have abbreviated their product: BTX.

First time ever I saw your face: First heard this on the underrated Clint Eastwood film, Play Misty for Me, sung by Roberta Flack. Multitude of singers have covered this song. One of the best is the haunting version by Johnny Cash.

First blog ever written: Was on Bebo ( who remembers Bebo?). It was a strange tale of me in the waiting room at the doctor’s, sitting beside some famous figures. I asked Darth Vader if his sore throat was getting better. As debuts go, it was a precocious start. It’s been downhill ever since.

Anybody out there got any unusual firsts (or seconds) they’d like to share. Keep it clean, guys (and MrsO).

Some thoughts on politics

Over the last few weeks we have witnessed an unprecedented upheaval in British politics. Who would have thought that something as simple as a referendum would have had such an effect? Party leaders (and would-be leaders) have been falling like dominoes. Currencies and stock markets have been swaying in the political wind. Is this the end of the world as we know it?

In times like these, our ship needs a captain with experience, nerve and determination. Someone who is prepared for bad weather and knows how to cope with it. But our leaders have failed us. The Prime Minister has resigned; the Leader of the Opposition has been rendered impotent by the mutiny of his crew. The ship is dead in the water while we wait for someone to actually take charge.

The problems began during the campaign, when they didn’t treat the voters as intelligent adults. We weren’t given cool calm opinions, let alone facts, on which to base our decision-making. Instead, we had dire warnings of disaster that nobody could take seriously. And some of us actually thought: if you can’t make a better case than that, then your side is probably rubbish.

And then they didn’t seem to realise that a referendum is not like an election. If you lose an election, you don’t have to implement the winning policies. But you have to implement the result of a referendum whether you like it or not. And the Remainers were so confident that they would win that they didn’t make a contingency plan… Big mistake, but understandable. What has shocked so many of us is that the Brexiters apparently didn’t have a plan either. So now nobody knows what to do – and as a result, some of those prophecies of disaster may become self-fulfilling.

For some time I’ve been wondering why I’ve become so disenchanted with politics. Now I know why.

A Most Humble Offer

I went to training school today to print B&B reservations, train schedules, my Caledonian Sleeper ticket and make a copy of an assignment for a student. I was asked where I was going by a directrix and responded “the UK, as usual”. She, a Scouser-turned-Wog of the worst sort, sneered and started to rant incoherently. Apparently, I have “let the side down” terribly and should be ashamed of myself for travelling to the United Kingdom. Her opinion is shared by many. So, may I make a most humble offer? I will trade my position in Spain to any poor Bremainer. In exchange I will settle in blighted Blighty and drink copious amounts of tea as penance.

Juncker again

This is the President of Europe! The EU’s public face!

Now he pokes petty jibes at BJ and NF for deserting the Brexit fold.

Why does he care – apart from the fact that he can’t handle criticism? Has he no dignity on behalf of ‘his’ institution? Does he imagine his childish behaviour will influence the negotiations in any way? Answers: no and yes!

He is clearly surplus to EU requirements – so how long will he survive? I forgot – it’s time for the interminable Continental holidays – so expect action in September.

Jingo

A Happy Independence Day to our American cousins. Enjoy it as it will be your last.

It is time that the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland ruled the world again. We will start by taking back our lost Thirteen Colonies. Soon the globe will be re-drawn with Union Flags all over it, where they used to be. And if we have sturdy enough winter wear, we will put in the east a British Russian empire.

God Save The Queen.

Where’s Ron’s mate Phil Slocombe when you need him?

You Huns! Accepting defeat with grace ain’t your bag, eh?

Lewis caught up with Nico and passed him on the final circuit but Nico didn’t like it, caused a little prang and kept on driving with a damaged car. The stewards penalised him, not Lewis.

German fans then booed Lewis on the podium.

And today it will be the yellow-clad Aussies’ turn to show decorum on Centre Court when their potty-mouthed hero meets Andy. Will Nick manage it? Cliff-hanging stuff.

Why?

Help me out here.

As far as I know, nobody has a good word for Tony Bliar – do they? Think British and foreign gubmints, the British Labour party, the unions, the ‘British establishment’, the Kremlin, the White House, etc. ad nauseam.

So why do the meeja continue to present his BS utterings as news? Who is pulling their strings?

To be clear: no, the UK does not wish too pay him megabucks to negotiate Brexit. No, we do not need him to explain how serious a matter it is.

And frankly, why does he still believe anybody wants to listen to him?

I blame the Vatican.