"Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold" - W.B. Yeats.
"We're doomed !" - Private Frazer.
"Like scrolling through a decade's worth of Daily Mail editorials in 20 minutes" - TheLoonyFromCatford
Last year I noted the sad case of Brum Labour Party's Elaina Cohen, who applied to be the party's candidate for the Lozells council seat and was told by another councillor "They will not vote for someone who is white and Jewish. My Muslim members don't want you because you are Jewish".
Khalid Mahmood, who is the MP for Birmingham Perry Barr, claimed a total of £1,350 for nine nights stay over a four-week period in 2004, when he stayed at The Bentley hotel in Kensington. He also claimed £1,225 for five nights stay in 2008.
Mahmood used the hotel after separating from partner Nasim Akhtar, with whom he lived in Wembley, though this address was not given on his 2004 claims form. He checked into the hotel with then girlfriend Elaina Cohen under the fake names Mr Khaled and Eleine Mahmood.
I'd have thought, given the first story, that Mr Mahmood (about whom I know little except that he made a pretty decent stab at keeping 'community tensions' down at the time of the Lozells riots) might find he's peeved some of his constituents by his dalliance - unless of course he could persuade Ms Cohen to 'do an Osborne' and convert to Islam.
'Rahala explained to her three brothers and two sisters that she was deeply in love and wanted to marry Adam. I don't think they were too keen. Her older sister, who had an arranged marriage, was especially resistant.
'Over time, however, and after meeting him on a few occasions, they came around to the idea. And when Adam announced that he was going to convert to Islam, it enabled everyone to accept the relationship.'
And perhaps at the other end of whatever spectrum there might be, Ibrahim (ne Maurice) Anderson, composer of 'A Means for Dawah' and currently facing trial on charges of using threatening, abusive, insulting words and behaviour at a homecoming parade in Luton for the Anglian Regiment.
When I was a wee lad, we used to eat tinned 'tunny fish', caught in the North Sea. Tasted great.
Then they were fished out, and we ate tinned 'tuna' instead, caught not in the North sea but more exotic waters. Came in varieties like 'skipjack', 'yellowfin' and 'bonito'. Not as nice as tunny, we thought, but we got accustomed to the new stuff, and now I can't remember what tunny tastes like - must be 45 years since I ate any.
To the Western feminist mind, it might seem a bit retrograde, yet Varra insists that Russian women are the ultimate post-feminists. "We know all about equality and independence — we've been there," she tells me. During the Soviet era, which ended in 1991, millions of men died in wars and labor camps. Women often ran their households alone, while also working in factories. The problem is that Russian men, says Varra, remain deeply patriarchal and still expect women to be subservient. "Rather than try to change men, which will take another 200 years," she says, "we might as well get whatever we can out of them now."
Is this true ? Seems like a high number to me, although I'd expect 10%ish - after all, a Government report in 2006 said that "in 10 years time, 15% of the workforce will be Muslim".
Where did the New York Times get these figures from ? Anyone know ?
Investigators are now, in fact, turning a sharper and retrospective eye to the passage in Mr. Abdulmutallab’s life that began immediately after his summer in Sana, Yemen, in 2005, when he enrolled as a $25,000-a-year mechanical engineering student at University College London. In recent days, officials in Washington and London have said they are focusing on the possibility that his London years, including his possible contacts with radical Muslim groups in Britain, were decisive in turning him toward Islamic extremism.
That view, if confirmed, would offer a stark reaffirmation that Britain, the United States’ closest ally, continues to pose a major threat to American security. Critics in Britain and the United States say the British security forces, despite major increases in budgets and manpower in recent years, have not yet succeeded in adequately monitoring, much less restraining, the Islamic militancy that thrives in the vast network of mosques that serve the nation’s 1.5 million Muslims — and on university campuses across the country where nearly 100,000 of the 500,000 students are Muslims, including many, like Mr. Abdulmutallab, from overseas.
UPDATE - Muhammad Abdul ('Two million Muslim terrorists') Bari of the Muslim Council of Britain, quoted at Socialist Unity : "there are approximately 100,000 Muslim students at universities across the UK, the vast majority of whom are law-abiding and play a full and active role in student life."
As the Walkman generation was succeeded by the mp3 and Ipod generations, and an increasing number of us walked around with plugs in our lugs, I became convinced that we were likely to see and increasing number of not-terribly-elderly with hearing difficulties. Young people just don't like turning it down.
At that point it also became apparent that hearing-aid manufacturers were likely to benefit. But who makes hearing aids ?
This blog gives some investment suggestions. I know nowt about the blog or the companies they suggest (except Siemens), so caveat emptor.
I was always a very attentive and tender lover who never forgot to ask afterwards, "How was it for you, darling?" even if I never quite managed to stay awake long enough to catch the reply.
Any fule kno that the world's first passenger railway, the Mumbles train, would have been 200 years old this year. It was scrapped in 1960 by the local council, all of whose members are now being toasted here. Ever since I can remember, Swansea councils have been corrupt, incompetent or both - and according to this blog the tradition lives on.
I'm just old enough to have ridden the beastie. The terminus was at the back end of the long-gone Victoria Station, in what used to be a fascinating hinterland between station and docks. Railway lines ran in the roads between the warehouses and docksides - the Swansea of Kingsley Amis' novel 'That Uncertain Feeling'. Alas all gone, replaced by dual carriageway, retail sheds and a sanitised marina.
The journey - along the sea front past the prison, the Vetch, the Slip (with its station, floral gardens, bridge and beach funfair), Patti Pavilion and St Helens, to Blackpill (where the accompanying main railway line turned off towards Gowerton), Oystermouth and the Pier - is still pleasant now, as a walk or bike ride on the path where the line ran. But it doesn't compare with a pasteboard ticket, a box of Paynes Poppets from the machine at the terminus, and a gloriously rackety journey. In winter the ride could be scary. The train always rocked a bit, but in a gale it would move disconcertingly. Upstairs, where the motion was accentuated, you'd wonder if it was about to fall over into the sea. Downstairs, with a stormy high tide the spray of breaking waves would slap against the windows - if you left them open you could get wet. We loved it.
I'm pleased to see that someone has put this excellent video tribute, showing then-and-now video of the line, onto Youtube. The first part's soundtrack is Spencer Davis' (of this lot fame) lament 'The Mumbles Train', from his latest 'So Far' release. A Swansea boy (didn't his mum work in the Lewis Lewis department store ?), Spencer is still playing .
At 4:58 you can see children retrieving their flattened pennies from the line after the train has passed.
I said that in a storm at high tide you could get wet unless you shut the downstairs windows. This recent video, taken on a stormy day near the end of what was the line, shows that you'd sometimes need to shut the upstairs ones too. The line ran right alongside the water. You can see why a ride on a stormy night was an adventure.
I trust Sarah and Liz will enjoy the video, if they've not seen it before. More stills of the Blitz and (near the end) the train here.
On Boxing Day, being in Sarf London, we took a trip down to Kingsmeadow to see the reborn Dons, AFC Wimbledon, beat Hayes and Yeading 5-0. Although a Baggies fan, I'd watched the Dons in their 80s glory days at the Lane and got soaked at Huddersfield on that radiation-rainy day when they made the top flight.
At the end of this video of the game, the camera shows this flag at the Tempest End.
Intrigued, I googled the phrase and found this. It appears that enigmatic artist-in-residence Fleydon premieres all his new works at Kingsmeadow.
(and it's £2 for kids and £6 for students at Kingsmeadow. A whacking tray of chips is £1.50 and the tea is made with real teabags. What more could one want from a footy club?)
Crittenton allegedly became angry at Arenas for refusing to make good on a gambling debt. That prompted Arenas to draw on Crittenton, who then also grabbed for a gun. Arenas denies pulling a gun on Crittenton.
Players’ union executive director Billy Hunter called the matter “unprecedented in the history of sports.” “I’ve never heard of players pulling guns on each other in a locker room,” he said.
According to this site Arenas earns $16m pa. Poor Crittenton only earns $1.5m. Maybe it's income inequality that's to blame !
The Telegraph say the intruder was a Somali and he had an axe. The BBC say he was 'a man' and had a hammer (whether he intended to bring about love between the brothers and the sisters all over this land - or any other land - is unclear).
But what seems indisputable is that the intruder in the home of Kurt Westergaard was shot. May a similar fate attend all who disturb his domestic peace !
UPDATE - the BBC have updated their story,which was breaking news at midnight last night. One or two commenters have pointed out that "in the wake of the Nigerian with the incendiary underpants, al-Beeb appears to be adhering less rigourously to the MONA rule.". If I understand him correctly, the Dumb One posits that the Nigerian-ness of the underpants man is being emphasised in order to de-emphasise his religion.
If you wait long enough, everything arrives on Youtube. While this probably sounded better after a couple of carafes of bianco secco, I'm still quite taken with the sub-Phil Collins style. From a 1981 (stuff like Say Hello, Wave Goodbye was in the charts) ski holiday in Sauzi D'Oulx, this was rarely off the jukebox. I believe the title approximates to 'I Don't Want Wings'.
