Old Gaffer

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  • Random Thoughts

    Nature. We humans are so desperately and collectively arrogant, we think we know nearly everything, and God help us, we know so very little. This morning something made me think of how wonderful nature really is, its overall appreciation, not in little pockets here and there, but globally. How nature reacts.; for example you don’t have to tell it to reduce your pulse rate or increase your pulse rate for various circumstances, it knows that. Magnify this on a global scale and you have the most incredible level of sophistication we humans could never achieve. Yet we tinker repeatedly, not only giving ourselves manufactured drugs that can have a long-term effect, but we feed them to the very animals were going to eat later. When you’re as old as I am, and retired, you have time to think all those thoughts you were too busy to think about for all those years. Nature anticipates, takes precautions against hunger, and, if you think about it, almost every natural eventuality. Sometimes we consider it gets it wrong, but then again we have not got the wider picture. People at the moment are fiercely worried about the future, with some justification, but they’re not giving nature the credit they should, for all its checks and balances. This doesn’t mean that we can hare on in the way we have in the past, on the contrary, but it could mean that things are not quite as bad as David Attenborough says.

    Opera singers. Sophie told me this morning that she had heard that the people who seem to know are saying that the opera singers of today are not of the quality of the past and I think this is highly likely. I knew one of our great Covent Garden opera singers, he was enticed away from his butcher’s shop to sing all over the world. How many of those in the past, were sons and daughters of farming stock, labourers and other people who led a strong healthy outdoor life, which built up their muscles, their tissues, and their stamina. Practically all of us lead lives which are much more governed by time, by rules, and have more leisure content, with a result we are becoming a different race. We are going against nature’s basic rules.

    Fred the Computer. No, I’m not going gaga, or am I? I do not call my computer Fred, but from time to time I catch myself on, nearly apologising to it when I do something stupid and it actually corrects me. Subconsciously I can’t believe that the machines can do what they seem to without somebody inside it working levers. This reaction is most prevalent when I am performing repetitive operations, lose concentration and do two or three of the operation, wrongly. What an idiot?

    Advertising. In October, 06, I wrote about James who bought a small news agency, sweets and tobacco shop as a hedge against the insecurity of the shipyard. It was there, while helping out, I discovered the strength of advertising. We had been warned by the traveller that the advert would be on television and consequently stocked up by 300%. However when the advert appeared, not only could we not keep up with demand, neither could the wholesalers. Since those days, I find the changing form of advertising presentation to be most curious, with the ridiculous lengths to which the advertising industry goes to draw attention to a simple product,. For example, not so long ago, the Nat West had an advertisement in which, presumably the manager, smashed his way through a brick wall, and, followed by some of the staff, went out onto a flat roof and started to dance in a most ineffective way. I bank with the Nat West, and this gave me pause for thought, that those in charge of advertising could be so asinine. Have you noticed, more and more inanimate objects such as telephones, stuffed toys, in fact almost anything, is telling us how to spend our money on important matters like insurance, health, and finance. Clearly it is cheaper to employ an illustrator than a whole body of actors. It must be working or they would have given up years ago, so it says something about us the viewers, rather than about the advertisers.

    TV Programming, Years ago, out of interest I calculated the number of programs that were being put out on TV in one week, and then on only four channels. I was dumbfounded by the amount of work that was required to entertain us, and that was before Sky and all the other proliferations of sources which are now available. I have been running this website for nine+ months now from a standing start, and have found that items I thought would go down well have fallen like a lead balloon while others unsuspectingly have been popular. This exercise has made me realise the problems the TV planners have, year in year out, even with repeats. I now moan less than I did, but still am not really satisfied.

  • Writing

    Writing for pleasure is not everybody’s cup of tea. Indeed many find that writing a simple letter is a chore; writing for gain on the other hand is what your psyche makes it. I have read of famous authors whose output is only a few hundred words per day, hashed and re hashed for perfection.; but that is not the problem for those in it for a livelihood, they have the problems of trying to obtain recognition, getting published, and selling sufficient books to make a living. I have been writing short stories, novels, articles and even treasure hunts for almost 60 years. In the early days I tried getting novels accepted either by literary agents or publishers, but found that the chore of constantly sending the material off and only getting a standard rejection in return too tiresome. I was earning my living in another field, and so instead of persisting in trying to get published, I would write another novel. Sophie liked them, she thought they were as good as or in some cases marginally better than what graced the shelves in our local library, not high literature, just entertainment. Today it is even harder to obtain a publisher willing to risk promoting a new writer. ‘Names’ and journalists are ahead in the queue, and persistence needs to be almost limitless.

    My writing has been fun for me, because I have used the basis of a novel to solve a problem, to find a way out of difficulty. I have written 15 novels, without getting any published. The last one was on the subject of cardboard city, those poor unfortunates sleeping in doorways, under arches in cardboard boxes. I tackled it from both ends, the do-gooder with a bucket of money, and the disadvantaged trying to claw their way back into society. The more I delved, and the more I researched, the more the subject fascinated me, and in the end I was pleased with the result. I only sent it to two publishers and got two nice replies and ‘no thank you’.

    I found that short stories are much more difficult, because they have to be crisp and tight, imagination catching but no superfluous verbiage. Very often I’d start off with a great idea, write what I thought was a good story, and then when I went to read it, found it had not got the bite that a short story needs. The bite sometimes is gentle, could almost be a tearjerker, but it has to surprise, that is the real bite One day I may post a short story called ‘The mouse in the bottle’, my Dutch friend Jan has suggested I should; if I do, it will be interesting to see the reaction when reading the reader stats.

    Doggerel if you don’t take it too seriously can be amusing. It will never be poetry, but who cares, as long as it’s funny, slightly cynical, and raises a laugh or makes a point, it has done its job. On this website, under ‘Kissing’ you’ll find doggerel. Real poetry is a gift and a science which I believe is given only to a few.. I wonder if people still run, and go on motorised Treasure Hunts, hunting out clues, generally written on a sheet in rhyming doggerel. I used to churn them out for office and charity does, but they are a lot more difficult than they seem. You might have found the best clue of the lot, but simply can’t put it even crudely into four lines of doggerel.

    Writing the Blog has been a real experience, allied to some extent to what journalists must feel, with interest a top priority, reader preference and deadlines. As a high proportion of my stuff is biographical and I only have one life, that side will be coming to an end, but, while I originally said I would pack it in, there is so much controversy in every sphere, I just can’t keep my trap shut – like Politics.

    So, in May or June, look out for a new Heading on Old Gaffer, called The Groomsport Herald, and even earlier, have a look at my grandson Steve Jones’s interesting blog WWW. S*T*U*F*F.Reloaded, He is a musician playing with top bands and the breadth of his interests is incredible..

  • Is Sleight of Hand Deceiving the Eye yet again?

    Take for example, the fuss about North Korea and Iran having nuclear facilities, and making bombs. Is Bush right to create a fuss? Really, just stop and think for a minute. Can you imagine any state, nowhere near the size of the US, Russia, or China, becoming a nuclear aggressor? They’d be wiped out – any one of the others similarly, would immediately get their come-uppence – for my money, this whole business is sabre rattling, unnecessarily and for another reason entirely, as everything international seems to be today.

    I am firmly convinced that the entrapment of the naval boats had more to do with internal politics in Iran, than it had to do with presupposed aggressive actions by the Royal Navy.

    You can’t turn on the television today, or the radio, without being deluged by a whole variety of statistics, examples, theory and counter theory, concerning Global Warming. I have already dealt with this, but I must return to it, because the attitude of the government, even the EU, is so at variance with the true facts to be laughable if it was not so damned expensive and serious. When we hear of this factory in Russia making converters and polluting not only the whole atmosphere but the whole area surrounding it, that other huge countries are putting forward counter reasons and statistics to demonstrate why their policy is perfectly adequate, surely we should reassess our position.. There is no shadow of doubt that there is a bandwagon on which all the media has climbed, – one suspects because there is no other news, – making claims which are clearly unproven, or are only to be expected, and yet put forward as a reason why we, the Brits, should pull in our belts, pay that much more in taxes, and have to buy cars that we don’t really want, and will make very little difference to the environment, .taken on a global calculation in the long run.

    Get Real. Get a level playing field. All of us realise that there’s quite a lot of truth in some of the scientific proof which is being offered at the present time, we only have to look at our lawns in the summer, Definitely, steps should be taken even before the whole matter has been totally proven, to do something about global warming. But these should be done on a per capita basis, an ability to pay nationally, true analysis, so as to provide what one would expect to be a fair distribution, throughout the world, of remedies, jacked up universally, as and when more concrete proof is forthcoming. This ‘lead the world’, knee-jerk reaction, of our incompetent government, is leading us nowhere likely to have any effect on the problem, merely painting a pretty picture of how righteous our government is, at the expense of the rest of us. Actually I forgot to mention, the Government is skint, broke, the coffers are empty.

  • Gap Years, Crash Courses

    Gap years. When I was editing this piece, for some reason I started thinking about gap years, and realised I actually had four and a half gap years. There are two sides to this equation, for those intending further education, it can be useful to take a temporary job in the profession or trade you’re thinking of following, this will harden your views on the subject. If it is just a protracted holiday, with a dilettante interest in some vague subject, one is lucky to be able to afford to do it. For those not involved in further education, the sooner they get on the bottom rungs of the ladder, the wider is their opportunity and broader their perspective. In my case the gap years affected me both from the point of view of scope, because so many of us were returning all at once, and also from my pension aspect. In today’s climate, with such wide access to information and ideas, careful thought, and good research is essential, as at this stage one’s whole future is at stake.

    Crash courses. One hears a lot today about crash courses. My introduction to a crash course was the first 22 weeks of my naval career, 18 of which consisted entirely of learning the rudiments of electronics, and the entrails of dozens of radio and radar transmitters and receivers. When we passed out, we would be having to maintain the sets, be totally on our own in a strange environment, in difficult conditions, with only a handbook for guidance. I believe that whoever set out those courses, knew the essentials, new the conditions under which we would work, and tailored the course accordingly. It certainly worked. While I was at sea, thinking I would be returning to my job as a surveyor, I started a primary correspondence course in building construction but I discovered, even though I had considerable spare time, the lack of easy communication, was a serious deficiency. I therefore wonder if some of these courses which are sold on the Internet, or promoted on the Internet, have the same problems as I had. What we learned in those 18 weeks, by reading, listening and with hands-on, was incredible. Crash courses, to be of any use must be of a high standard, tailored to suit the requirements of the individual and in a first-class teaching environment. Courses I have attended in evening class were never up to these standards, and the products of some of the technical courses currently replacing apprenticeships, are suspect.

    3 Weeks In The Isle Of Man. After three months in Newcastle we left for the Isle of man where we were billeted in boarding houses on the front at Douglas. Further along the front, similarly housed but behind barbed wire, were the Italian internees, mostly harmless waiters and restaurateurs who would probably have been a greater asset to the war effort than some of us. Unsurprisingly, none of us realised the welcoming officer, the Entertainments Officer, was John Pertwee, the actor, later to be of Dr Who and of Worsel Gummage fame. It was his job to inveigle us into contributing to the overall entertainment on the island. With a pleasant, innocent smile he enquired if we played rugby and those foolish enough to admit to it were promptly enrolled in the team and issued with navy blue kit. Later he was back recruiting volunteers for an amateur show to be put on at the local theatre. If you have read my piece on Hypnotism, you will know the story of the heinous hypnotist.

    The rooms in the boarding houses had been modified to be small ‘cabins’, a euphemism for a ha box. We slept on two-tiered steel bunk beds. The dining room and lounge on the ground floor, was where we were supposed to study, but in which we mostly played a gambling bastardisation of Ludo called Uckers. Each morning we were marshalled and marched up to Douglas Head. The building there, once a hotel, was converted into a radar signal school. Radar then was incorrectly called RDF,(radio direction finding,) as the Germans were understood not to have it. The original designs were for use in aircraft and consequently small. We were also trained on substantial versions for use in ships. The theory was difficult to master in such a short time, and the distractions of being on the Isle of Man, where the war seemed so far away, didn’t help. There was a dance hall, there was poker, Uckers, and the local services canteens. Finally, of course there was Lieutenant Pertwee and his bloody rugby, and I use the term advisedly. The RAF had a policy of retaining on their station, anyone who was a blue, or international rugby player so they built up what amounted to an international team, but Pertwee didn’t tell us this when he asks us if we played any sports. I turned out with the rest of the sheep for the slaughter. It was evident, very early, we were going to lose heavily. I noticed that my team mates tackled late. For some insane reason I decided to show them how. A six foot four, 17 stone, international was lumbering down the field when I tackled him round the knees. I was told he didn’t even stutter, just went on to score, while I lay there, literally out for the count.

  • Naval Rum Part 2 of 3

    A Chiefs’ & Petty Officers Rum

    This Mess treated Rum like the Romans treated Jupiter and the tradition also was unique in my experience. Daily at eleven o’clock a deep-sided dish was placed on the Mess table containing fresh water. Three average sized tumblers were place, upended, in the water for the men to take their rum from. Beside it was a small skillet containing the neat rum.

    Each man, when it suited, either logistically or from preference, would enter the Mess, measure out his tot with a steady hand, making sure the maximum possible meniscus was formed on the top of the measure before tipping it quickly and deftly into one of the tumblers. The speed of hand and the deft flick of the wrist ensured that none was spilled, no matter what the sea conditions might be; then the measure would be held to drip into the glass until every vestige of rum had drained from it – each drop was precious. When the rum had been sipped with relish – it was never drunk – the glass was then turned upside down and placed once more in the ‘rum water’ to drain’

    One day, shortly after I had arrived on the ship, I found I was the last to collect my ration and after I had completed the whole ritual I moved to lift the dish with the ‘rum water’, prior to throwing it out. There were several Petty Officers in the Mess and with one voice, accompanied by several choice expletives, they wanted to know what the xxx hell I was xxx doing with the xxx rum water. I took this syntax as Navy-speak and it ran off me like water off a duck’s back I explained how I was just being tidy and was going to get rid of the dirty water. I failed to add that it was adulterated by the saliva of everyone in the Mess as well as the rum, and it was just as well I did because I was then treated to a lecture, a diatribe even, on my antecedents first of all, then my lack of mental capacity, my total unsuitability for Naval life and finally, the reason for the harangue – it was the Chief Stoker’s day to drink the ‘rum water’.

    Apparently this water had a faint taste of rum due to the drips which had run from the glasses each time they had been used and each of the Chiefs and PO’s had their day in an unwritten roster to drink this spittle-soup. You can imagine, I was terribly contrite, I could not have been anything else in the circumstances, I was afraid I might burst out laughing. It is conceivable in 2006 that this was a prank played on an ingenue, but the fierceness of the attack and subsequent drinking, turn about, made it real and very earnest. Because I was a Killick (the equivalent rank to a Leading Seaman) in a Chiefs and PO’s Mess, and worse still an HO (Hostilities Only) hardly dry behind the ears, I was not only barely tolerated, there was an underlying resentment of the fact that I had been foisted on the C & PO’s and thus was benefiting from the privileges and freedom they had striven for over years, man and boy. The whole thing was understandable, but rough on me because I had to take the brunt through no fault of my own. I had to walk softly and I was not allowed to carry a big stick.

    Naval Rum Part 3 can be read in the RN category as ‘It all sterted with a fish box’.

  • The New Party, Concluded.

    From the stats it would appear that the subject is popular but not the flavour of the month, but having started it I must complete it. I propose to set out the structure and the reasoning behind the structure of the nucleus and the outposts. The purpose of this exercise is to regenerate political awareness, get rid of apathy, and to give back to the man in the street a political voice. By the nature of things it will have to start as a ginger group, using independent politicians as a means of stirring the government and drawing attention not only to the ills it is hoping to eradicate, but also any successes it might achieve.

    To start with we need a Selector, a man or a woman, educated, highly intelligent, liberal, politically minded, and a member of the House of Lords – a young Shirley Williams would be an ideal selector. The purpose of the selector is to enrole the first layer of the nucleus. The nucleus is intended to be divided into a series of functions, such as law and order, health and welfare, social services, the police and the penal system, education, commerce, etc, and international relations. The latter is not a substitute for the foreign office. In a supervisory role will be the Director, a person who has had considerable experience in retailing and pulling companies out of trouble. He or she will have a sound knowledge of public relations and will oversee the second layer, the people responsible for those sections of the nucleus mentioned above, some of which could be amalgamated. The director coupled with the selector will persuade suitable people to lead these groups, and the variety of professions encompassed, will add to the competence of the nucleus. It is not intended that these people would receive more than nominal retainers plus expenses, and care should be taken to ensure they have no strong political affiliations. The siting of the individuals of the nucleus is unimportant as the work would be carried out on the Internet.

    The backup staff would be in two categories, the analytical core and the outposts. The analytical core would be made up of professionals such as IT, analysts, a librarian, and those who understand the needs, can keep track, record and save the flow of information between the core and the outposts in each particular. The outposts will be manned by volunteers pure and simple, selected for their energy and ability rather than any specific training, collecting information either spontaneously or at the behest of the core, and passing it back to the nucleus for analysis and priority.

    If this proposal is to be a success, publicity and media interest are cessential and so contact with local press and national media would be essential. This would require the assistance of someone well versed in this field of activity. Canvassing for information and assistance would be a suitable tool to advertise not only the project, but its aims and breadth.

    The trial period. Unless the documentation and general management framework are sound, information collection, storage, extraction and correlation would be a nightmare. It is therefore necessary to have a trial period in which the gremlins and the unforeseen problems can be identified and rectified. The area for the trial period must have all the elements found in the United Kingdom on a smaller scale. The trial period itself does not have to be a full dress rehearsal it will be sufficient to take, say, four elements and deal with them in exactly the same way as is proposed for all the elements. As it is a trial there is no need for the electorate to appreciate what is going on, especially if there are likely to be errors. No one county in Britain would fulfil the requirement, and so it would appear that Scotland would be ideal, it has the full range of commerce, large cities with their inherent problems, rural areas and a thriving tourist industry. Due to the secrecy the collection of information might be slightly different from that for the final operation, but it will be adequate for a verisimilitude.

    The transition from a ginger group to a National Party must be exponential if it is to retain the public interest. It would involve tremendous energy, shrewd manipulation, and a close relationship with the electorate, and the media. Initially independent politicians would be recruited on a lobbyist basis, to help promote the views, without actually forming a party. Once the numbers of those wishing to partake had reached a suitable level the
    party would then declare itself

    While I naturally have great belief in this proposal, I think it unlikely that it will ever get off the ground, but my philosophy has always been ‘never in, never win.’

  • Naval Rum Part 1 of 3

    The Tradition and Importance of The Tot Previously Published 15,09,06

    To the RN Lower-deck that I knew, the withdrawal of the daily Rum Ration, the Tot, must have been like the death of a lover. How, in 1970, a do-gooder managed to engineer the withdrawal without murder is astounding, as you will realise if you read The Chief’s Rum Water. The history of the Tot from 1687 was a pint of 100% proof Jamaican Rum, daily, modified in 1870 by an Admiral called Grogram, hence the word Grog, and cut off in 1970 – 300 years of alcoholic bliss. The Pussers Rum website gives a broad history of the Tot, and when I say I have been searching for the real thing for 60 years, you will understand it made a deep impression. Rum was more than a stimulant, originally a soporific to deaden the hardships of life at sea, it became a tool, currency, a source of internecine warfare and theft, a persuader, a drug and totally ritualistic. It was unbelievable what a Tot would buy. A man would wash and dry a hammock, a mattress cover, and two heavy blankest for a tot. He would take a photo of a mate’s child and paint an incredible watercolour portrait. Take a bottle with three tots in it to the Shipyard and you’d be surprised what it would buy. See It All Sterted With A Fish Box.

    It was a status symbol. Men on courses, in barracks, on big ships qualified only for the diluted version – grog. Neat rum was issued on small ships because the conditions were that much tougher, and therefore it became a macho symbol – highly valued. The procedure of dealing out rum was a farce, intended to ensure the rations were carefully monitored and there would be no double dealing. The Supply Rating produced the rum from store, allegedly accurately measured against the register, with absentees deducted. The officer of the Watch approved it, it should have been drunk before him, a logistical impossibility, it then went to the Messes and there, there really were checks in place; as you drew your tot, every available eye was on you to see you didn’t have a crafty method for beating the system. Friendship with the Supply Tiffy was a route to obtaining what was termed ‘Gash’, spare rum – totally illegal – and the Tiffy further perks. Our cook went to Edinburgh one boiler clean for the regulation four day lay over. He came back hardly able to stand and, with the help of his friend, the Supply Tiffy, I never saw him sober again. He was a one-man-band, responsible only for keeping his mates happy by cooking the food, something he could do in his sleep, his condition never rose above the Lower Deck. We were a family and close.

    On VJ Day it was my duty to serve the rum for the Chiefs’ and Petty Officers Mess. I was an instructor at the Signal School, just married, living in the Town. We were to get the afternoon off in celebration and I had promised my wife to take her to Portsmouth. It was at this point that the honoured rituals of Rum stepped in. For friendship, a payment, a celebration, one was offered to ‘sip’, ‘gulp’ or ‘bottoms up’ from a man’s glass when he drew his rum. These measurements were instinctive, accepted and carefully monitored, abuse was reported immediately throughout the Mess and a reputation instantly destroyed.

    VJ Day was a celebration. I stood at the rum table, a huge billycan full of 100% rum in front of me, a pint of beer beside me, carefully ensuring that every measure I took had its ritualistic full meniscus before I tipped it into the man’s glass without spilling a single drop – it is an acquired skill. The man, being a Messmate, offered me sippers – little more than the wetting of the lips. Initially I accepted, but once the beer, the fumes from the billy, my own tot and the sippers started to take effect I slowed to a totter and managed to remain coherent for the rest of the morning. However at lunch, in our flat in the Town, I fell asleep – she never did see Portsmouth, but I hear about it from time to time – 60+ years on.

  • The New Party, New Politics

    Some could say that I am naive. So be it. But, if it is thought there is even a grain of truth in the idea, and something is done about it, it will be worthwhile. This follows the piece I did on the 29th of March, concerning Trust, the Nucleus, the birth of a new party and the reason for it. Here I set out the reason why I believe the total overhaul of our political system is essential, and logically try to show how this might be achieved. I am a layman, without real political experience, most of us are, yet we repeatedly rail against the current system. From 1970 the teeth of Local Government were steadily extracted, with the result our influence is weakened. I submit that if corruption or mismanagement is a worry, it will come to light quicker and be less destructive in a council than in a National organisation. Hence pressure for improvement will be more effective at local level than Nation wide. If this submission is accepted, the New Party must have influence, a strong input at local level, which is where the Nucleus and Radial system comes into its own as it is based on National policy resulting from collected local research. Sophie says it is too idealistic – I say if you shoot for the stars you might hit the moon

    If a new approach is broached, people ask ‘where would one get sufficient people of sufficient quality?’ In the past few had university degrees in politics, they came up the hard way or were, born into it. Now being a politician is the aim of many young people, possibly for the wrong reasons. We need people of great talent, with political bent, retiring early from a profession, or commerce, with sufficient experience of life, and know-how to succeed in another profession. At 58 having had enough of doing roughly the same thing month after month, I took early retirement. In a new profession in a different field I qualified jointly to receive a British Design Award. I quote this, not to boast, but because I sincerely believe that there is a tremendous amount of wasted talent among the younger members of our retired population. I therefore suggest that some who have a strong interest in politics as a hobby, possibly working for a local party, long before retirement, should do part-time degrees in politics, through the Internet or the open University, as that would give us a pool to draw from.

    I believe the reason we need this change is paramount because the current political scene has insufficient contrast to get any real choice. The real priorities are not being addressed, lip service, and band wagons, are taking the place of what really needs to be done. The Green Party, apart from wetlands and other worthy but minor aspects, has been usurped by all the rest of the parties when it comes to green issues. However, as I have repeatedly said, the green issue is not the important issue here in Britain all the time the major populations, China, Russia, Eastern Europe and the rest, are belching out smog and CO2 – some of it on our behalf. Our major issues are prisons, and all the other neglected services. We have got our priorities wrong, and this is why I suggested that the process of obtaining a new party which would address this imbalance, could be started with the Radial System I proposed, feeding to and from the Nucleus, to give priority to the most urgent reparations needed and thus build a valid and sensible opposition bent on improvement rather than rhetoric and theatre – an open system the electorate can be involved in, contribute to and criticise,

    It won’t happen over night, it will take a lot of dedicated work, and a tremendous amount of logical, careful thought, not knee jerk reactions or winging it with a prayer. We still have the House of Lords, in which there is a good deal of political experience, and that is probably why the current government want shot of it. But I don’t think it likely that we’ll be able to rely much longer on it, in the way we have in the past, to curb some of the excesses of the House of Commons, We just have to hope that not too much damage will be done in the meantime and pray that the system will somehow be regulated and that we will be governed with less change for change’s sake, and more respect for the real priorities and the Public Purse.

    The populace is not apolitical, only apathetic through frustration and political impotence. If a government is totally secure, has the whip hand, then the electorate is bound to be apathetic, and frustrated, especially when any choice appears to be more of the same, in lesser doses. So a totally new approach, spelled out to the electorate so that they understand precisely what is happening might succeed. Even more so if they have the opportunity to engage in some form of relationship with the Termini of the Radial System, and are asked to contribute their views and even take part. Under these circumstances we might generate a much needed revised political awareness, with a more circumspect approach to grass root need rather than the flavour of the month.

  • April Fools Day, Idiocy 2

    The case of the ‘window glass’; The head of the office, Carl, a very diligent man, very clever but detached from reality, was a terror for detail, which did not endear him to some of the staff. He made the mistake of ordering glass with the office phone. It was for home, to be fitted at the weekend. A while later, a joker went to another extension of the telephone and called him up, resulting in some of us being party to both ends of the conversation. It went something like this, ‘This is McCalla’s, I understand you were ordering glass, I have your order here, you ordered…’ the joker read back the order exactly. Carl was both convinced and hooked. ‘Is there a problem?’ he enquired meekly. ‘Well sir, my assistant didn’t find out whether it was bedroom glass, drawing room glass, kitchen – and so on.’ the joker said, extemporising as he went. ‘Is there a difference?’ asked the bemused Carl. A fair question – the answer should have been ‘No’, but the self-styled expert was now off at a gallop giving his imagination full rein. ‘Of course there is,’ he said and went on to explain that there was an ingredient in bedroom window glass which encouraged tranquillity, that drawing room glass was a lot clearer as would befit the best room in the house, and so on. It was a virtuoso performance by the joker and the rest of us were enjoying the joke, as much because we could not believe it was possible to convince anyone of such preposterous claims. In the end Carl, who was also parsimonious, settled for kitchen window glass throughout, because while it might not be absolutely first class it was cheap – and he was in charge?

    The Audition How often has one heard the saying, when children are almost hysterical with laughter, there will be crying before bedtime. In this office a similar situation arose whereby the jokers overreached themselves and a joke became really hurtful.

    Eric, a good engineer, a hard worker, had a private hobby he rarely talked about, he sang in his church choir and entered the occasional singing competition. In some quarters he was not popular. The first I heard of the business was when he came to me, full of pride to tell me that the Musical Director of the local BBC had heard him sing on Sunday, and had offered him an audition. He was like a cat with ten tails. He took the day off and was seen in his best bib and tucker heading for the BBC. Next day he related what had happened. He had arrived, stated why he was there, and that was the end of it. – no audition. I believe the BBC, should have believed his story and secondly, given him a short audition, it would not have wasted too much of their time, and if his voice was as good as it was alleged to be the process might have been productive. In throwing him out, they were contributing to making the joker’s joke more hideous.

    Helicopters On the Runway Job we were a small compact staff with offices near the hangers. We worked for the Admiralty and the aerodrome was also a repair facility for the Fleet Air Arm. A helicopter was being overhauled and some of the staff were itching for a flight. As I dined in the Officer’s Mess, I arranged it – nothing more – I didn’t make any conditions – merely asked the pilot if it was possible. He agreed and smiled.

    The day dawned, the chaps were lined up, introduced to the pilot, climbed on board and off they went. From time to time I had taken short hops to Scotland in a small plane and I knew what Naval pilots were like, in landing it was best to keep the eyes shut as the plane spiralled down to land in tight circles and fast – the horizon and the land in front of one spiralled – like a top – it was enough to make even a hardy sailor sick. Naval pilots land on the decks of rolling ships, not long runways. I watch the helicopter, the pilot was having a ball, the only thing he didn’t do was fly upside down. Every man jack was green, as they stepped down – I don’t know if any of them even thanked the pilot – he was smiling quietly, as one does when having been generous.

  • Trust, A New Party, Character Assassination

    Trust. From birth, our whole outlook, reactions and decision-making, no matter how simple or complicated, is dependent upon trust. Until 1939, trust was almost implicit in everything we did. If you found a purse you took it to the police station; overcharging was a rarity and houses were rarely locked through the day. Whether right or not, we trusted our politicians, or most of us did, and we were rewarded by the occasional resignation for some breach of the code for the House of Commons, that to us lay men, seemed excessive and unwarranted in many cases. Now in business, on the Internet, in the home, in fact in every aspect of our lives we cannot afford to be trusting. Old people, young people, all of us, risk being battered for some trumpery item or a handful of cash. It doesn’t stop there, dealing with people today, often remotely, you’re never quite sure whether you will be dealt with fairly, or even honestly. Get out clauses, which seem to be designed for a one-way street, are now common. This lack of trust, this cynical expectation of being diddled, is rampant at all levels of society, except with the totally naive. And now this lack of faith is paramount on a political level, because a proportion of those who should be dedicated to our welfare, are more interested in their career prospects than the truth of the matter. How often has one heard excuses or half truths. Trust is the cement which holds society together, In the last decades it has withered. Why?

    Self-Help – A New Party Political policy has become pragmatic and distant, ‘what wins votes is in the manifesto’ irrespective if it is an improvement or not, which of course is then sidetracked. The actual needs of the Majority seem to be secondary, witness NHS Dentristry, and all the other ills now expressed daily on TV and in the Press, The majority is becoming poorer and less advantaged instead of better off. Our Politicians are now more obsessed with ‘Leading the World’ than serving the electorate.

    It behoves those with the knowledge and dedication, the artisans and the professionals, to reawaken the old fashioned Ginger Group, a tool of the past, to bring politicians to heel. Working from a managing and analytical Nucleus, into groups throughout the Realm, reassessing needs, mismanagement, corruption if it exists, and waste, should all be highlighted, channelled back and forth, until the extent of and solutions to the problems, nation wide can be assessed and those ills reaching unacceptable levels raised at Parliament level. The obvious outcome of such a system would be a new Parliamentary Party rising from the ranks of this analytical association, independent candidates and those disillusioned. They must simplify, not centralise government, act as a watchdog, with strong responsibilities to the electorate instead of steamrollering it. The Nucleus would be the conscience of the party, and if the party came to power, it would not be the government, but would retain its role of critical analysis and contact with the electorate. We need something! Westminster has totally changed in the way politics are run. It used to be confrontational for a reason, now it is theatre, with all the puppets having the same script, written by the puppet master.

    Character Assassination To evaluate a writer’s views and bias on a given project, is essential to assess how much credence one can place on what is written. .I am careful to give a thumbnail autobiography, to provide a fair idea of my biases, which I do my best to keep in check. On a recent TV programme, a journalist gave a biography of David Cameron, from his antecedents right up until today. It seemed very harsh whether factual or not. Without knowing about the journalist, I had no idea of the bias, or alternatively, perhaps someone employed him. There must have been a reason for this analysis of someone adjudged good enough by his peers to be the leader of a party

    One aspect I feel strongly about, is the fact that all parties have a number of advisers dealing with every aspect of political doctrine and management, people rarely members of the House of Commons, who have no mandate, no tangible responsibilities for their actions other than the sack. They seem to hold tremendous sway when it comes to National policy, lawmaking and implementation. This whole agenda seems to be in line with the current trend that no one in the House of Commons can be brought to book for flagrant breaches of the code of the House, as I understand it to be from past examples, they should be the norm. So much is at stake. In effect, who can one trust implicitly, who is to be believed?