In Flanders Fields

On another Armistice Day and with another sorry line of politicians trying desperately to look earnest as they lay poppy wreaths at the cenotaph, the passage of time means that there are no surviving veterans of the Great War and increasingly fewer survivors of the Second World War.

There was a time when our politicians understood the consequence of war as some of them experienced the brutality of conflict at first hand. Now dead; they have been replaced by politicians who are happy to engage in war from a distance and only if their own children are definitely not sent away to fight and die or fight and be maimed both physically and mentally. The closest these new Whitehall warriors come to the carnage is signing the contract that furnishes dictators with cluster bombs and the delivery platforms to blow away women and children. Look into their eyes as they remember the fallen and look into their morality as they place profits from the arms trade above human life.

Dead men tell no tales

Kings of Leon

”The grave`s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.”
Andrew Marvell – To His Coy Mistress

So, farewell then Abdullah bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, King of Saudi Arabia and Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques. Time`s winged chariot has crossed the deserts of vast eternity and finally arrived in Riyadh. The touching tributes and moving obituaries delivered by state media described him as a moderniser, a reformer, a moderate, a humanitarian and a champion of women`s rights. The state media in this case was the BBC and the Union Flag flew at half mast over the Palace of Westminster as a mark of respect to honour the life and cheque book of this great man.

Hypocrite lecteur!

Via En Direct

With hypocrisy now being delivered with the frequency of an atomic clock ticking out the seconds, there is no longer any need to rummage in dustbins looking for double standards. Breathtaking pretence and studied insincerity are spewing from the mouths of hypocrites like so many bullets from an automatic assault rifle.

The dreadful, horrific events in Paris during the last week have produced a reaction of disgust, solidarity and defiance from human beings who hold humanity as being more precious than barbarism. One and a half million people took to the streets of Paris to proclaim their belief in democracy and free speech; between 40 and 50 others gathered for a photo opportunity.

Ozymandias

Ramesses II

It wasn`t exactly a JFK moment or an Elvis moment or even a John Lennon moment but the day after Bastille Day 2014 is now carved into memory.

Tuesday morning was always going to be “challenging” as a long scheduled three hour meeting starting at nine would require concentration and the certain need for some agile thinking if I had any hope of a successful outcome. It was the sort of meeting that requires you to switch off your phone. Emerging into the sunshine feeling quietly confident and more that a little smug, I resorted to a nearby hostelry to collect my thoughts over a pint of fine English ale. Finding a seat outside and sparking up a gasper, I switched the phone back on.

A stream of about a dozen text messages broke the peace and quiet of the beer garden. This was most unusual as text messages are rare and are normally confined to simple pleas from the homestead to “buy cat food” or an attempt at further extortion from the tax dodging bandits calling themselves my network provider.

Ring out, wild bells

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The larder is bulging with buy one get one free boxes of minced pies and the fridge is packed with poultry and trimmings; the last thing we need is some Middle Eastern, homeless refugee giving birth to yet another scrounging baby.

One day this child might grow up to become some ranting lunatic demanding equality, an end to war, freedom for all and might even suggest that the greed of individuals is less important than the benefit of the many. God forbid that this should come to pass and even more horrific is the thought that this anarchist should reside in Hackney, or Handsworth, or Govan, or Byker, or Moss Side, or Walsall or Westminster. A revolutionary daring to question the rich being rich and the poor being poor should not be something to spoil the adoration of our Christian decency when pushing each other out the way to get to the discounted brandy butter.