call me ishmael

Sunday, 17 November 2024

The Sunday Ishmael: 17/11/2024

You can usually tell just by looking at them. The human race has evolved pretty accurate warning systems about wrong uns. But we suppress our instinctive reactions for social reasons, career progression or economic advantage, or fear of offending the DEI lobby. Or because we're just scared of them.

This last one was a horror show all by himself. I'm sure you will have heard, or read about the abuse perpetrated by John Smyth, Q. C., and Recorder, educated at Trinity Hall, Cambridge - if not, Wiki has a thorough account -John Smyth (barrister) - Wikipedia . The Makin Review, an independent review published on the 7th November, concluded that this Christian married man subjected more than 100 boys and young men to "traumatic physical, sexual, psychological and spiritual attacks" over a period of four decades. The sadistic, partially clothed beatings he administered drew so much blood that his wife supplied the victims with adult nappies to prevent them from bleeding on the furniture. He regularly assaulted boys with implements at his home, where he had a special garden shed designed, soundproofed and equipped with a variety of canes. Whilst beating boys a white yachting pennant would be planted on the lawn so that his wife Anne and other family members would know that he was not to be disturbed. Justin Welby, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, forced to resign over his failure to take action against Smyth, is on record as saying that Smyth was: "charming, delightful, very clever, a brilliant speaker".

Smyth's predilection for sadistically beating boys was not a secret. Just like Jimmy Saville, it was known about and covered up. The cult Iwerne Trust's camps had successfully indoctrinated and broken the spirit of its graduates over generations, who conspired in keeping Smyth away from the police and Court and allowed him to continue his ready access to further victims - because they didn't want to "endanger the work".

Makes you really glad you attended a state school.

Smyth was a lay reader in the Church of England and chair of the Iwerne Trust, which ran evangelical, Christian camps for posh boys. The Iwerne Trust was a cult instituted by Eric "Bash" Nash (22 April 1898 – 4 April 1982) a conservative evangelical Church of England cleric. His work of Christian evangelism and camp ministry in the top thirty public schools of the United Kingdom from 1932 onwards was highly influential in the post-war British evangelical resurgence - Christianity having become quite unpopular on account of the First World War, when God unaccountably allowed 40 million humans to die - maybe he got confused about which side he was supposed to be rooting for, having been invoked by all the Christian nations at war with each other.

Over 7,000 boys attended the Iwerne camps under Nash's leadership. The ostensible purpose was to instruct boys from public schools in Muscular Christianity and with a conservative evangelical theology, to become future Christian leaders, especially within the Church of England. Muscular Christianity is a religious movement that originated in England in the mid-19th century, characterized by a belief in patriotic duty, discipline, self-sacrifice, masculinity, and the moral and physical beauty of athleticism. All of which sounds very gay to a modern sensibility.

Now, I cannot believe that adult men, past the age of youthful belief and romanticism, actually believe any of this Christian crap. Spending half an hour researching the origins and development of the Christian Church would rapidly convince anyone with half a brain that it was made-up nonsense, which has been very useful politically to keep the underdogs under by promising rewards after they were safely dead. But I do believe that it is woven into the class structure of Britain, that it still wields power and provides, as it always did, a lucrative career structure for posh boys. And a hunting ground for paedophiles and sadists.

Church and State,

Monarchy, prelates of the Church, aristocrats, legislature, Courts, defence forces - indivisible; posh boys the lot of them, carefully groomed into their leading roles by their public schools and spurious christian nonsense, then growing up to become groomers of the next "elite" generation.

Fucking Ruritania.

So who is next for the Archbishopric of Canterbury? I really don't care - just so long as it's a woman.

Kemi Badenoch, God bless her, is a posh girl, but last month she claimed: "I grew up in a middle class family. But I became working class when I was 16 working in McDonalds". That caused a furore. Not least among the majority of the working class who are not going to become Leader of the Conservative Party after a teenage stint working in McDonalds. Britain is sick with class, rotted with class, fungoid with class, the networks of which define every citizen of these islands. George Bernard Shaw, in his prologue to Pygmalion, stated: ‘It is impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth without making some other Englishman hate or despise him.’

Interesting that it is now aspirational to be working class - the Prime Minister carries his "my father was a tool-maker" line like a sub machine gun.

Here in Orkney, the local paper carries full crime reports every other Wednesday, which is the Court day, when our Sheriff, Robert McDonald (honest, not invent), flies down from Shetland to sort us out.

This week, Sheriff McDonald had to deal with 3 drunk-drivers, 2 paedophiles, 1 faeces smeared on a police detention cell, 2 girls beating up another girl in a pub toilet until the police intervened, whereupon the girls set upon the police officers (I think drink had been taken), 1lad who has buggered off to Australia on a gap year and so didn't show up for his hearing for assaulting a 16 year old to his injury - the annoyed Sheriff said: "I'd expect a better excuse than he decided to go for a wee holiday. If he's not at his trial diet, the Crown will ask for, and I will grant, a warrant and he'll be lifted as soon as he gets off the plane." - 1 domestic abuse, during which defence solicitor Fiona MacDonald (again, honest, not invent. Is she a relative?)

was granted more time because she told the Court: " Regrettably, I'll be struggling to be prepared for the trial diet", a 40 year old chap who breached his overnight electronic curfew imposed for assaulting four teenage girls, by accidentally locking himself out of his house, so couldn't get in to be curfewed - or so he said, and two lads riding a motorbike on a hill.

So when it came to the diet of James Farquhar, Sheriff McDonald might have been excused a little levity. Farquhar was on trial for possession of drugs with intent to supply. They'd got a police drug expert up from Aberdeen, who informed the court that Farquhar had two packages of cannabis in his car, divided into baggies of "a recognised deal size", for onward sale and supply. The defence position was that the cannabis was for personal consumption, to assist Farquhar to overcome his cocaine addiction. Farquhar is a roofer by trade and the drug expert opined: "I'm not sure I would be trusting someone on the roof if they were having three grams of cannabis per day." A small snigger might have been heard from the Bench. Maybe he'd seen Farquhar's work? The trial continues in December.

Staying in Scotland, but abandoning the McDonalds, can I bring Baldy Stephen Flynn to your attention?

Yes, I know he looks like a thug, but he's currently
leader of the SNP in the House of Commons. He's the MP for Aberdeen South. You'll recall the almost-scandal surrounding the resignation of his predecessor, Fatty Blackford?

In April 2021, an SNP staff member complained about Blackford's handling of a sexual harassment allegation regarding SNP MP Patrick Grady. The complainer alleged that after reporting the incident, Blackford invited him to an "ambush" meeting at which Grady was unexpectedly present, and where he claims he felt obliged to accept an apology from Grady. Blackford denies the meeting occurred as described. The SNP stated it would be investigated.

In June 2022, Grady apologised for the behaviour in parliament after a full independent investigation and was suspended from the House of Commons for two-days over his unwanted sexual advance to a junior SNP colleague in 2016. Following this, a video emerged of Blackford encouraging SNP MPs to provide Grady with "full support" This comment was met with backlash from across the political spectrum and Blackford faced calls to resign. On 25 June 2022, Grady left the SNP whip; it was restored six months later by Blackford's successor. Blackford then announced his intention to stand down from leadership of the SNP Westminster group on 1 December 2022, ahead of the group's AGM. He denied being forced out by SNP MPs. His successor, Stephen Flynn, was elected on 6 December. They're a ruthless bunch, the SNP.

Anyway, Baldy Flynn is at it again - this time he has his sights set on becoming First Minister of Scotland - or so me and Martin Geissler believe. This morning, on the Sunday politics show, he utterly denied that his latest dastardly plan is motivated by anything other than his care for the constituents of Aberdeen South and his belief that he can represent them better than their existing MSP. He has announced his intention to stand for the 2026 Holyrood election, applying for his party's nomination for the Aberdeen South and North Kincardine seat. He says he has full confidence in Baldy Swinney's leadership. The plan means if he gets the Aberdeen South gig, currently held by Audrey Nicoll, his MSP colleague, he will simultaneously act as MSP and MP, therefore becoming Two-Salaries Flynn. He is fully confident of his ability to hold both posts and represent Aberdeen South in Westminster and Holyrood.

This is my Christmas Cactus. Yes, I know, it is a month early, but it's a cactus - what does it know about calendars? It does this every year - a fountain of frilly pink flowers.

There are four splendid anthologies of the writings of mr ishmael and stanislav, the young Polish Plumber, compiled by his friend, mr verge, the house filthster. You can buy them from Amazon or Lulu. Here's how:

Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.

IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps
please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.
Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr
Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux
https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4

At checkout, try WELCOME15 in the coupon box, which (for the moment) takes 15% off the price before postage. If this code has expired by the time you reach this point, try a google search for "Lulu.com voucher code" and see what comes up.
With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.

Sunday, 10 November 2024

The Sunday Ishmael: 10/11/2024

I'm really not a liberal. I used to be, but a few decades working for the Probation Service knocked that nonsense out of me. Most people just bandy the word about without thinking anything other than it sounds like a good thing to be. I suspect it means just what you want it to mean - when I looked it up on-line, the AI gave me 6 definitions denoting 6 different usages. The problem with being a liberal is that people are shits. If you let them be free and do what they want, you'll generally find that what they want is pretty self-serving, venal, dominant, triumphalist, self-aggrandizing, sexually deviant, selfish, ruthless, narcissistic, cruel, exploitative and tax avoiding. Why do you think there are so many exhortations these days to be kind? And why are they on T shirts?

Probably because the wearer is such a colossal a-hole shit that he/she/it needs a constant reminder - or can point to the T-shirt when accused of being cruel, judgementalist/racist/misogynist/homophobist/disablist/fattist/ageist/generalisingist/downright arseholerist and say, No, Not me - I'm Kind.

This is why we need laws, regulations, tax inspectors, the RSPCA, the NSPCC, the Advertising Standards Authority, armed police to blow people's heads off when they drive their car with intent to kill (although they are a really nice boy/drug-dealer/weapon-wielding gangster), Courts, prison officers although they are generally shits too, having sex with inmates and providing them with drugs, and probation officers - who start out as kindly, leftish, liberalish, until life persuades them otherwise. Cock fights. Now that's nasty. Sex with the step daughter - a game all the family can play. I remember the sex offender who with great faux sincerity attempted to persuade me that he was towelling himself after his shower, when his 6 year old mouth-breathing stepdaughter got a little too close and it just went in her mouth, honest, mrs ishmael, that's all there was to it and I love her to bits, just like my own. Locking the family's two German Shepherd dogs in a flat for days with nothing to eat but their own faeces and then complaining when the RSPCA broke down the door and uplifted the dogs, because they were guarding the flat and who's going to pay for the door? Delivering the coup de grace by closing up a sofa bed around the chap beaten up but still breathing when he sat down on the sofa bed and leaving him to suffocate and welter in his own blood. Biting a woman to death - honest, mrs ishmael, I can't remember a thing, I was so out of it, it was my birthday you see - you were convicted on dental evidence, Patrick - there's the clue.

So, when I hear someone describe themselves as a liberal, you'll forgive me a little cynicism.

We used to have a political party in Britain called themselves the Liberals. Honest, not invent. Dirty bastards. For our younger readers, the reason they became popularly known as the Dog-Shooting Party, mainly through the efforts of mr ishmael, was pretty straightforwardly unbelievable. The party's leader was Oily Thorpe, his nickname earned at Eton by his habit of toadying up to masters. In May 1979 he was tried at the Old Bailey on charges of conspiracy and incitement to murder his ex-boyfriend Norman Scott, a former model. Thorpe was acquitted on all charges, but the case, and the furore surrounding it, ended his political career. And the dog? Rinka, a Great Dane, belonging to Norman Scott, the casualty of a murder attempt by Andrew Norton, an airline pilot who undertook to murder Norman Scott for a fee of between £5,000 and £10,000 - which used to be a great deal of money, enough to buy a modest house in the Midlands. You can order a hit these days for considerably less than the cost of a 3-bed semi. Thorpe procured £20,000 from Bahamas-based millionaire Liberal Party donor Sir Jack Hayward, ostensibly for election expenses. Thorpe later denied that the money had been used to pay Newton for the murder of Scott, but it never was used to defray Liberal Party costs. That reminds me - whatever did happen to the £600,000 disappeared from the SNP funds? Andrew Norton turned out to be a rubbish hit-man - he failed to shoot Scott, but killed poor Rinka, causing the old gun to jam and therefore saving her master's life. Douglas Murray, currently associate editor of the Spectator, wrote: " "Jeremy Thorpe had hoped to be remembered as a great political leader. I suppose they all do. And perhaps he will be remembered longer than many other politicians of his age or ours. But it will always be for the same thing. Jeremy, Jeremy, bang, bang, woof, woof."

There's Liberals for you. There's a book and a BBC three-parter: A Very English Scandal.

In his review of Michael Bloch's biography of Jeremy Thorpe, mr ishmael wrote in February 2015:

"In his last years Jeremy hustled for a peerage - purely to get back into parliament, y'understand, and display his dazzling gifts of gabshitery; when his claim to a nonsensical Mediaeval baronetcy evaporated he lobbied unsuccessfully for a life peerage.

The nerve of some people, who do they think they are?

I generally feel some sympathy for human villainy as long as there is an element of remorse in the villain. Thorpe was as much a victim of parental expectation as was Scott of parental neglect; both were fantasists, both, at that time, criminal deviants, abiding in the demi-monde of rough, urgent buggery and showy - flamboyant - I Dare You masquerade but from those to whom much has been given, much is expected and in this as well as in his lifelong denial of his criminality, Thorpe disappoints. He has enough sympathisers. I was never one but Bloch's book, well worth borrowing from the library, confirms my hostility to he and all of his ilk.

It might be worth noting that Thorpe's perverse acquittal - one of the jurors later said "Oh, he done it, but he and his wife had suffered enough" - and shamelessness set a new benchmark for dastardly conduct amongst politicians; none now resign, all now, like Cameron insist that they take responsibility whilst doing nothing of the sort,

all trouser others' money, all serve wealthy benefactors rather than the nation, many are gleefully, audaciously, degenerate and decadent

- flamboyant, in Thorpe's time.

I saw Chris Underpants, MP, on Question Time last week.

mrs ishmael was amazed, this is that bloke who posed in his pants and sent the picture all around the world, seeking casual gay sex

and now he's on Labour's front bench and here on the telly, moralising at us?

Yes, dear and before that he was an Anglican priest.

Still, at least he's not a Liberal, doesn't go around trying to murder his embarrassments, like they do."

So, mrs ishmael, why are you banging on about the Liberal Party scandal of the Seventies? Don't you know that the past is a foreign country where they do things differently, that Homosexuality is now legal, if not compulsory and that the Liberal Party is a dead parrot?

Well, because I'm cross and utterly fed up with people saying "liberal" like its a good thing, rather than the whited sepulchre that shelters the rotten corpse within. Of the 6 definitions of liberal that the AI spat out, this is key: relating to or denoting a political and social philosophy that promotes individual rights, civil liberties, democracy, and free enterprise

What's wrong with that, then? As I carefully explained above, because people, including senior politicians, are shits and need reining in. Especially when exercising their individual rights and civil liberties to terrorise Jewish men into jumping into canals in Amsterdam to escape them. The excuse was a football match at the Ajax stadium in Amsterdam, when hundreds of Maccabi Tel Aviv fans were repeatedly ambushed and attacked by Arab migrant men on scooters, in hit and run attacks. The violence was perpetrated by Amsterdam locals of Arabic origin, who shouted "free Palestine". The Dutch King Willem-Alexander called the Israeli president Isaac Herzog to tell him of his 'deep horror and shock' over the events, saying: 'We failed the Jewish community of the Netherlands during World War Two, and last night we failed again.'

This is where liberalism gets you - European countries have proved entirely unable to defend their culture and rule of law against the onslaught of a wholly illiberal religion and culture which is committed to eradicating a legally-constituted nation state and killing its citizens, wherever it finds them. It is almost enough to make you proud to be not European, to have escaped the rotten, liberal sarcophagus of Europe. Britain stood against the fascist anti-Semitism of Europe during the Second World War and defeated its pustulating Germanic heart - and promptly lost its way. I said "almost enough" because Britain, also, has proved incapable of asserting British culture against Islamism. Liberalism has broken it. So tied up in knots are we by the human rights and civil liberties industry that we cannot defend our borders, deport illegal immigrants or stop pro Palestinian demonstrations on the streets. Anti-semitism is the acceptable face of racism for liberals.

I saw the annual ritual of hypocrisy as broadcast by the BBC today. All solemn, vying with each other for the best funeral suits, wearing very solemn face and poppied up to fuck, the war lords processed around the Cenotaph with their wreaths. The King and his Avaricious Family led the way - and I suppose they were the least of the hypocrites, since they haven't actually started any wars, on account of being symbolic placeholders. They were followed by the true culprits - Blair, Cameron, Brown, Johnson and the rest, with Kemi Badenoch and Keir Starmer processing shoulder to shoulder. Considering the loss of male life in Britain's wars, they are probably planning how to incentivise women to produce more babies as Britain's women, most sensibly, seem to have decided that the game is not worth the candle and have given up reproducing; while pretending they give a fuck about the dead that they are commemorating with dirges, speeches and poetry. This morning on the Laura Kuenssberg Show, Tony Radakin, Priti Patel and Lord Andrew Roberts were all agreed that the elevation of Donald Trump to being President Elect was a bit of a worry and that Britain must commit a larger percentage of its GDP to defence spending. Admiral Sir Antony David Radakin, KCB, ADC, Chief of the Defence Staff, and Lord High Constable of England (very Gilbert and Sullivan, I know), was particularly upset about it, saying, more or less, we couldn't defend ourselves from an attack by a jam doughnut, now that the Democrats aren't going to do it. However, Baron Mandelson - yes! him again! said, reassuringly, no, no, its all going to be alright. Donald Trump won't turn his back on us, because he would lose America's international reputation as a good guy. Well, good thing he's going to be Britain's next Ambassador to the United States, and he can tell President Elect Trump himself all about reputation. When his fellow panellists all urged him to come out about being the next Ambassador, he said, coyly, that William Hague is an even Bigger Beast than he is. Honest, not Invent. The Baron is probably proud to describe himself as a liberal.

Wednesday, 6 November 2024

Change the World! Make America Great Again!

I did rather think this would happen - and that Trump's victory, which is on track to be overwhelming, will have consequences for the world, should he implement his policy objectives. Stopping being the world's police force, stopping the attempt to impose Western "Democracy" on autocratic regimes, closing down the never-ending war, dismantling America's military-industrial complex - well, that will leave Britain rather exposed. We've been a handily-situated military base for the States' war on Russia, and if they no longer need one, Britain may regret the provocative things said and done on Biden's behalf. Maybe Trump will preserve some fondness for the Benighted Isles, as he is half Scottish - but why should he when Scotland's SNP leaders have been downright rude about him? Toothless Sturgeon, prior to his last Presidential term, went so far as to say he would not be allowed to set foot in Scotland. Annoying bluster, of course, but Baldie Swinney is just as bad.

Anyway, unless there's a Civil War, we're about to find out what a Trump presidency will mean for Starmer's Britain. And for the Dwarf Zelensky, of course.

Sunday, 3 November 2024

The Sunday Ishmael: 03/11/2024

Your whoreson Scot, now there's a feisty devil with no skin on his face when it comes to skelping the English. The spirit that took them riding across the Border to steal cattle from the Northumberlandish and consider themselves entirely in the right of it, for, whisht, wouldna' they do the same tae us if they weren't toothless, milk-fed, mammy's boys with their heids full o mince an their winkies up each other's airses and no mistake, has them demanding more money for the consequentials.

a wee scotch devil forging his credentials.

The bare-faced cheek of it will tak' yer breath awa'. Wait, while I tell you.

Po-faced SNP Shona McRory Robison, former Health Minister, (fucked that one well up or, to put it politely, widely criticised for her poorly received tenure); former Deputy Minister (resigned recognising the public hated her - she called it being divisive) and currently Cabinet Secretary for Finance and Local Government, never seen on telly without looking as though she was smelling something disgusting (perhaps there's a special fluffer for SNP politicians, who prepares them for camera by smearing faeces and rotten milk on their upper lips),

said of the £3.4 billion being gifted to Scotland in Rachel Reeves' October Budget: "It's not enough. It's niggardly."

How So? Isn't £3.4 billion a lot of money?

"It may be a lot of money to you English, but we proud Scots in Smart, Successful Scotland need much, much more."

Why's that then?

"We need it to offset all the Westminster cuts. We need it to pay Winter Fuel Allowance to all our cold old people. We need it to bribe Scoatisch wummin tae have mair bairns. We need it tae provide free prescriptions and free Higher Education......"

Alright, stop talking now. Why should Scotland have these things and England not?

"Because ye owe it to us. And the £3.4 billion has they strings"

Which are?

"We ha'e to spend it on public services".

And you'd rather spend it on luxury motor homes? Definitely stop talking now.

Over now to Ivan McKee, SNP Minister for Public Finance, whose principal duty is to support the Cabinet Secretary for Finance and Local Government, that is po-faced Shona McRory Robison. (She had a stalker once, but he was returned to a psychiatric clinic.)

You know how when you go to the hairdresser's or the barber's, they produce a book of hairstyles for you to pick from? Well, Ivan McKee must have decided on a combination of A Boris Johnson and A Donald Trump - see what I mean?

Anyway, Ivan explained why £3.4 billion was not enough. You see, most of Scotland's workers are employed in the public sector, mostly the NHS. And dastardly Rachel Reeves has increased the National Insurance employer contribution. And the SNP think that Westminster should pay Scotland the N.I. increase. It's around £500 million. As well as the £3.4 billion. So instead of raising money by the increase, Westminster will have to pay it to Scotland. So the argument goes.

I was briefly interested in what these "mc" and "mac" prefixes mean. We don't have them in Orkney, where people are called Sinclair or Flett or Glue or Twatt.

Mc means "son of". So Shona McRory Robison means Shona, son of Rory, son of Robi. I'd change it to something more girly.

The Budget also wasn't popular with Scotch Whisky Association chief executive Mark Kent, who described the increase on spirits duty as a “hammer blow”. Bit dramatic, that. He accused Reeves of increasing “tax discrimination of spirits in the Treasury’s warped duty system, and with 70% of UK spirits produced in Scotland, that will do further damage to a key Scottish sector”.

Even more insulting was Reeves knocking a penny off a pint of beer. So the English working class can get bladdered on their drink of choice. Say you go out for your customary gallon, you'll save a whole eightpence. Whereas the middle class will have to pay through the nose to get hammered on posho whisky and wine.

And that's the thing - the Budget was an ideological redistribution budget. They tried to hide it behind all that fannying about describing the beneficiaries of the budget as "workers" and defining workers as people who work and get paid a wage or salary - but they meant working class. And quite right, too. What's the point of a Labour Government if they can't bring in a bit of wealth redistribution? About time, I'd say. We've had Tories protecting their class interests, n'est ce pas?

Me and Rachel Reeves, we were educated in prefabs. She's cross about it and is redistributing a bit of the wealth of parents of public school kids into state school education, by making them pay VAT on school fees. You know how people say "and it didn't do me any harm?" Well, being educated in a prefab, in a class of 43 kids, with cruel boys who chased the girls with chicken feet from the neighbouring chicken farm (you pull the tendon, the claws open and close and the girl screams)

and hurl snowballs carefully crafted from stones embedded in compacted snow, and a paedophile headmaster who not only enjoyed the healthy physical activity of assaulting little children's open palms with a strap, but also had an end of term play staged in which the eleven-year-old girls wore grass skirts and went topless - well, it did do me any harm. Quite a lot, actually. It was a huge relief to get to an all female secondary school, run by the Sisters of the Cross and Passion with care, kindness, excellent teachers and too much religion. But no corporal punishment, paedophilia and boys. And I'm sure those children enduring an education in classrooms falling apart because RAAC concrete was used to save money

- well, they are only children of the poor -

it probably did do them some harm. And those kids whose education is disrupted by other kids playing up and uncontrollable by teachers - yeah, them too.

So a bit of redistribution from the public school sector into the state school sector should be applauded.

We'll see how it all works out in practice. Bound to be a few unintended consequences. Did you hear about Portugal being set on fire? The fires started in September this year - more than 1,000 fires spread through central and northern Portugal, burning more than 135,000 hectares of land, killing at least nine people, amongst them four firefighters, the evacuation of several villages and requiring the deployment of 5,000 firefighters. It was the unintended consequence of a bit of European legislation, which provided an enhanced rate of compensation to people whose crops are destroyed by fire, rather than drought or disease. Whoopy do - 14 arsonists were speedily arrested.

Staying with Scotland - Alec Salmond is still dead. Dead and buried, now, back in Aberdeenshire.

Being dead, of course, means he can't be prosecuted any more, presumably much to the regret of certain SNP factions. Today, Police Scotland stated: "We can confirm that we have received a report of a non-recent sexual assault. The information is being assessed."

After Salmond fell out with the SNP he set up the Alba party, the performance of which has been underwhelming. Salmond was tried in 2020 for 13 offences of a sexual nature, including rape, and was acquitted of all charges. Chris McEleny, Alba Party General Secretary, said Salmond had been cleared by a court of law and claimed Salmond had been the victim of attacks on his reputation and character by allies of former First Minister Nicola Sturgeon - she of the ongoing police investigation into misappropriation of SNP party funds.

That's enough bare airses, mrs ishmael - ed.

Okay, Tories it is, then. No doubt wanting to outdo Rachel Reeves, who just can't get over herself - telling us all about being the first female Chancellor of the Exchequer since the post was created 800 years ago, and the first Labour Chancellor to deliver a Labour Budget in 14 years; the Tories have ticked not one, but two diversity boxes, and given themselves their first black female Leader.

Kemi Badenoch is certainly very impressive. And very posh. She lounges in the interview chair like Jacob Rees-Mogg, unlike Rachel Reeves, who sits up very straight, like the head-girl of a state prefab school. And her voice is ultra posh. A delight to listen to her. Richly resonant, beautifully articulated, employing sentences that make sense. And big words. She is disarming in her ready admissions that the Tories have made mistakes, that they have suffered their worst electoral defeat since God was a boy and are having to muddle through with a mere handful of MPs. I like her. And she's seen off Jeremy Cunt and James Not-so-Cleverly. So that's a good thing.

Talking of voices, I know it is crass of me, but I do find Rachel Reeves and Keir Starmer to be in dire need of elocution lessons. What is that flat, nasal intonation? Some variety of ordinary-people London, I suppose.

To turn to more pleasant matters, there's a general merchants' shop in Kirkwall called William Shearer. They've been in business since 1857 and sell pretty much everything - guns, fishing rods, seeds, neeps, bacon, bread, household goods, garden and pet supplies. Each Christmas they turn the upstairs of the shop into a dedicated Christmas shop, blending vintage artefacts from their early trading days with expensive, unnecessary but gorgeous Christmas stuff. Here's some photos:

Sunday, 27 October 2024

The Sunday Ishmael: 27/10/2024: the Avaricious Children Edition

This won't have come as a shock to the medics and dentists amongst us, but I had no idea that this is what children look like underneath the nice skin. This skull is part of the collection of the Hunterian Museum in London, but they are all like that, apparently. I was shocked rigid. Looks like an alien.

No jaw to speak of - just full of teeth. Could take your leg off with a single bite. You wouldn't want one of them anywhere near your soft bits, let alone try breast feeding. By inference, of course, I was like that once - these days I have to pay the dentist a fortune to have implants.

It being almost Hallowe'en, I was googling images for skull decorations and came across these toothed babes. I don't really understand Hallowe'en. It seems a nasty American import. Is the purpose to accustom children to death and decomposing bodies, or to the idea that begging whilst dressed up is a great way to score sweets and rot all those fine teeth their heads are full of? mr ishmael and I used to deal with Hallowe'en and New Year's Eve by closing the curtains, turning off the lights and locking the doors. We were especially apprehensive about drunken bonhomie by kilted Scotsmen carrying coal and demanding drams when we first moved to Orkney, but the New Year's Eve marauding is focussed on the towns, and apart from one little incident when a Scots nationalist demonstrated the correct way to don a kiltie - by way of spreading out the kilt on the floor then throwing himself backwards, naked, onto it and gathering it around himself - and he was a bit of a nutter, having had the Declaration of Arbroath tattooed on his chest; we were untroubled by the jollity. They don't like to get too pished in Kirkwall on New Year's Eve because the next day is the Ba', which is quite demanding enough without having been up all night. The rest of Scotland takes the welcoming of the new year very seriously, to the extent that two days public holiday are granted for recovery - not the measly one day doled out to the English.

Back to Hallowe'en and the avaricious children, with their buckets and demands. The older ones prefer to administer the trick, which in this part of the world consists of egging cars, houses, pavements and each other, followed up by bags of flour. The egg and flour combination is pretty slimy and resistant to usual cleaning methods, once it has hardened overnight, but a pressure washer will get it off. The supermarkets used to discount eggs and flour especially to encourage the kiddies to have fun, make it pocket-money affordable, but now that we are eco-aware, that is frowned upon. Kirkwall's communal bonfire, when we celebrate the judicial execution of Guy Fawkes, is also to be toned down this year, as we have 40 swans on the Peedie Sea, and they would be disturbed by the fireworks and screams of joy of little children. Bonfires are a survival of an old tradition whereby the bones of animals were burned in purification rituals to ward off evil spirits and ensure the fertility of the land. Samuel Johnston, silly man, thought the "bon" bit of the word meant good.

Maybe it's because we are a predator species - as evidenced by all those teeth hiding in our jaws, maybe it is because of Margaret Thatcher and her selling off the nation's housing supply to fulfil her dream of inherited wealth cascading down the generations - every ex-council house a proud inheritance, or maybe it is Britain's fixation on home ownership and the belief that some poxy 3 bed semi will ensure your fortune and that of your kids without you having to do a hand's turn other than to paint a wall now and then and to cut the grass; but avaricious children grow into avaricious adults, anxiously waiting for the aged parent to shuffle off the old mortal coil to step into an inheritance that will see them right. Needless to say, there is national resentment of the requirement to pay for care for long-lived demented or physically frail relatives - they won't look after the old dear themselves, but expect the tax-payer - that is, me, to pay up and therefore preserve their inheritance. That's why the hospitals are full - relatives prefer their elderly burdens to remain in hospital - which is free, rather than be decanted into a care home at £1500 a week. There's an idea for you, Rachel Reeves - impose hotel charges on longstay patients. And don't listen to all those idealists - it was a great idea to means-test the Winter Fuel Allowance.

And these avaricious adults have already had a good old whack during a lifetime of mumanddad paying for food, clothes, toys, holidays, education, driving lessons, cars, deposits on houses, weddings so they can pretend to be landed aristocrats (but its my special day - aren't I worth a ten grand wedding dress?), divorces, care of grandkids, etc, out of their earned income - and now the offspring are coming for the house.

McCarthy Stone has had some criticism in the press about the financial model of their retirement communities. You know the sort of thing - old dear sells the family home and buys a leasehold retirement flat, which has some communal space and activities, to stave off the loneliness of being ignored by the adult children, who are busy with their own toothed monster offspring. There is a maintenance charge of £blah per month, which pays for upkeep, external painting, grass cutting, window cleaning, council tax and what not. If personal care is needed, additional charges apply. Richard Osman popularised the idea of the retirement community in his series of cosy murder mysteries, in which a friendship group of incredibly active and resourceful old dears solve preposterous murders that stump the police, and encounter romance along the way.

Problem with the model is that these retirement flats are quite hard to sell on - there's a limited market for that sort of thing - probably all the cosy murders and sleuthing and communal fun, so the flat can sit empty after the death of the aged parent, and the maintenance charges keep ticking up until the property is sold, eroding the equity for the adult kiddies who really did believe that "one day, my son, all this will be yours".

Residents who bought flats at Oakfield Court, a McCarthy Stone property in Urmston, Trafford, compared the costs to having a mortgage. One resident, Veronica Williams, lives there with her husband, who has Parkinson's disease, said a 15.9% rise in a year was punitive. Another resident, Pat Burrows, said the owners of the complex "don't seem to care - that's the big thing - its just money, money, money." She also worried that her children would have to "pay the service charge even when we're dead, until they can sell the flat". Companies such as McCarthy Stone point out with some justification that buying into a retirement community provides help at hand, company and camaraderie.

This is a section of the housing market which is not increasing in value - but why should it? It provides specialist housing for older people at the end of their lives, and that costs money, whether in a care home or a private facility. If people are not willing to pay what it costs because they want to leave their "estate" to their relatives, who then is to pay for it? The problem doesn't arise if you are destitute, because the state then steps in, and the tax payer - us- foots the bill. But your options are then limited to institutional care - which can be substandard, despite the efforts of regulators. This week, dozens of elderly residents were evacuated from the Gainsborough Care Home in Swanage in the night, to a church and village hall, after three residents were found dead and seven were taken to hospital. The police are investigating what is thought to be carbon monoxide poisoning, and a woman has been arrested on suspicion of manslaughter (presumably by negligence).

If Rachel Reeves can tackle the national care disaster, she will have succeeded where all previous governments have failed. Go, Rachel! Budget on Wednesday. Can't wait.