Help! I could just leave it like that, actually; alternatively, I could say ‘Beam me up, Scotty!‘. Then there’s ‘Stop the world, I want to get off!’? You get the picture. As I write, there is a loud thumping coming from nearby which has been going on all week. They are knocking down the back of an old cottage and, basically, just taking a sledgehammer to the walls. Thing is, there is almost a rhythm to the thumping, one which has a depth to it, resounding from the bowels … Now, I may have watched too many westerns growing up but it is reminiscent of the sound made when they were building the gallows in preparation for the imminent hanging! I repeat, ‘Help!’. Thankfully, I’m not really one for omens but, quite frankly, anything is now possible in this feral country. In fact, ‘feral’ doesn’t cut it; the word ‘sinister’ is much more fitting.
The building of gallows may be the next thing. Nothing is beyond the bounds of expectation now in a country which erects fencing around the perimeter of student halls in Manchester, obviously to enforce their confinement despite the apology, today, and protestation that it was to keep others out! Such news, however, is dwarfed by that of the arrest, on Tuesday, of a woman in York who – in advance of the second lockdown – endeavoured to take her 97-year-old mother from her care home, choosing to look after her, herself, rather than have her loved one subjected to enforced isolation for another nine months. This lady and her daughter had been shocked at the deterioration of her mother/grandmother and felt she could not be deprived of her family any longer for the little time she has left. Amen to that! Enter the police, stage right, who protest that their hands are tied as they, quite literally, handcuff this poor woman while her frail mother watches on – bewildered, frightened – from the back of her car. Her daughter, thankfully, was with her and had the gumption to film the whole thing on her phone. It could be a scene from a Channel 5 psycho-thriller! Civil liberty is, clearly, a thing of the past as the State unleashes its power devoid of any boundaries.
The Coronavirus Act 2020. The emergency legislation fast-tracked through Parliament in March, in just four sitting days, giving the UK Government – and other UK authorities – wide-ranging new powers to address the pandemic. Hardly bedtime reading, it would appear deadly dull: lists and lists of sections and clauses one could not stay awake long enough to complete but … there’s the rub! Take a deep breath, prop one’s eyelids open with matchsticks and notice that one of the words most frequently used is ‘indemnify’. The exact definition, according to Google – I did, also, walk over to the bookshelves and check in my Chambers Twentieth Century Dictionary, dated 1979 – is ‘to secure (someone) against legal liability for their actions’. Perfect. In other words, carte blanche to do anything without repercussion!
Read on and one becomes aware of the frequency of sections/clauses commencing with the words ‘Power to’. Do not be fooled by either the language or the apparent vagueness. Everything is covered. The Coronavirus Act 2020 is, quite literally, a Get Out of Jail Free card. Nothing is, now, beyond the power of those in positions of so-called authority. We, the sheep, are at their mercy. Divide and isolate. Scare into submission. Control. Dictate. World without end. Amen.
Not quite. There are those who refuse to take the pill! Individuals who have both the courage and the intellect to stand up and be counted. One such person is Healthcare Assistant, Shelley Tasker, from Camborne, Cornwall who, on Wednesday, made a speech outside Truro Cathedral claiming she was publicly resigning from Treliske Hospital following her exposé of what is really going on behind the closed doors of NHS hospitals. ‘Healthcare Assistant who resigned says claims NHS overrun are ‘lies”. It makes alarming reading. One-way ticket to Walton’s Mountain, please …
Then, maybe not! The lunchtime news is on in the background as I listen to the latest in the fiasco which is the US Presidential Election. It would seem that Biden is en route to secure the 270 electoral college votes needed to call in the interior decorators – that’s if he can remember the address of the White House! Third time lucky, isn’t that what they say? At 77 years of age – and looking as one not unfamiliar with a few nips and tucks – he is, as one person put it, ‘an empty suit for all the Trump hatred’. Lacking any semblance of charisma, nonetheless, he seems like a decent sort and one who has endured more than anyone’s fair share of tragedy but he is no statesman; in fact, I keep expecting him to turn round, untether his horse, and ride off into the sunset! Should he become the 46th President of the United States – and it is becoming increasingly likely that he will – his greatest selling point (arguably, only) can be encapsulated in the following five words: ‘I am not Donald Trump!’.
Oh, Donald! It’s getting a little messy. Once again, though, he has astounded critics who believed him dead in the water. His support cannot be belittled – nor should his legacy be. The thing is, he has made himself a caricature; one which dwarfs all else including the man and his achievements – of which there are several. He has become an object of ridicule; someone who appears to be unhinged and should, therefore, be feared. I prefer to look at the bigger picture and to listen to those I like who have positive things to say about him, too. Nigel Farage is one such person; an individual who is unafraid. I have seen him interviewed several times this week regarding our own mess and all I can say is Hallelujah! A ray of much-needed light. He even had the audacity to mention the swear word: Sweden!
Should Joe Biden fail to remember where he tethered his horse and, instead, find himself in the White House then I, for one, shall miss Donald Trump, largely for the puerile reason that he made me laugh! Unpredictable and without filter, he brought much-needed humour to an increasingly dark world and, for that, I thank him. Might I say, too, that while his legal suits and accusations of corruption are being ridiculed and tossed aside, who are we to dismiss? Who are we to judge? It is entirely possible – and, dare I say, highly likely – that the election process is rigged. Corruption is all around and, as the Americans would say, ‘take a look in your own back yard’! No glasses required …
Donald Trump. Sean Connery. One ridiculed. One all but sanctified. I wonder if Donald Trump condones the physical abuse of women? Has he ever been guilty of physically abusing a woman? Moreover, has he ever had the arrogance to publicly argue the justification of such behaviour? Not to my knowledge. Sean Connery? Guilty on all charges!
Take a look at the following two articles: the first, ‘Don’t canonise Sean Connery – he was a coward and a bully‘, to be found in the Daily Record (on Google!); and the second, ‘Sean Connery on slapping women: Dangerous opinions, but a man of the time?’, taken from The Scotsman (deserving of no respect courtesy of punctuation alone!).
Interesting how The Scotsman is loathe to condemn, affording him the excuse of different times. Unforgivable. One of our own – who chose not to live in the beloved country of his birth and pay the taxes! I never liked Sean Connery. He was a boor with some talent and a whole lot of ego. A keen golfer and a member of the R&A, Pop had the misfortune to be drawn with him in several Medals. A bad-tempered, sore loser, his vocabulary was littered with four-letter words and he was renowned for his unpopularity within. His son, Jason, however, Pop liked very much.
The definitive James Bond? Never! That accolade belongs to Pierce Brosnan. Handsome, suave, intelligent, masculine – and funny with that unmistakable twinkle! The quintessential gentleman who would never dream of hitting a woman. Shaken not stirred, the class version …
‘My wife loves Roger Moore!’
Told you he was funny …
This is Trish, signing off.