No Snatch for Brown

No Snatch Land Rovers for Gordon Brown instead he gets not one but two BMW "Tank's" at a cool 2 million each. Shows how much he cares for our Armed Forces when he spends this on his lily livered hide and still spends pennies on our Service personnel.

According to the Times he even has two of them

Two of the BMWs are understood to be permanently available to Brown. One is kept at Downing Street while the second is based in his Kirkcaldy and Cowdenbeath constituency in Fife.

Tell that to our personnel serving in Afghanistan and Iraq and who are crying out for decent equipment.

BMW 'tank' shields PM from Al-Qaeda - Times Online

Foy off say Foy Residents

According to the Telegraph

Residents of Foy, the Herefordshire village chosen by Lord Mandelson to form part of his baronial title, have expressed dismay at their unexpected association with the Business Secretary.

I assume from this, that they don't want to be associated with the cheating, lying, scheming and just plain dishonest man that Mandy is. Can't say I blame them, especially when the connection seems so vague.

Andrew Meek, who lives in the cottage once owned by Lord Mandelson, said:

"People here find the whole thing irritating because he doesn't have anything to do with the place and hasn't done since he left.

"He is not particularly well thought of locally, and I think people would like to have been consulted before he took the title. But I suppose that's what politicians do."

The fact that he never "consulted" anyone in the village is completely within character as Mandy famously doesn't discuss business with just anyone as he is so honest and open.

Villagers disown Lord Mandelson of Foy - Telegraph

The Bully that is Paul Dacre

Agreement with Polly Toynbee is something I seldom have, but her article on Paul Dacre, the Daily Mail editor is something I am in complete agreement with.

This paragraph should give you a flavour

Dacre, the nation's bully-in-chief is, like all bullies, a coward: he refused to go on the Today programme yesterday to argue his case. He never dares face his critics, happy to fry alive all and sundry, never apologising, never explaining. There is a good reason for this: the stance his paper takes on just about everything is so internally contradictory and inconsistent that he could never survive even minimal scrutiny. The Mail's mishmash of lurid scandal, bitching about women and random moralising zigzags all over the place, dishing out pain and praise often according to who it has succeeded in buying with its limitless chequebook, or who has infuriated it by selling their wares to another bidder.

Now I'm sure the Guardian has no liking for Dacre but this is a bit more than the Guardian having a go. It exposes the strange link between the two little bullies Dacre and Brown and their even stranger friendship. Polly has this to say

One reason why it's easy to despair of Gordon Brown is his incomprehensible and grovelling friendship with Dacre, Labour's worst enemy. Where was Brown on the eve of his party's disastrous Glasgow East byelection? He was far away at Stratford-upon-Avon, watching Hamlet with his good friend Dacre. The Mail plays a curious cat and mouse game with Brown, sometimes praising his moral qualities on inside pages while assaulting Labour on its front page. Dacre is said to be very close to the Browns - which makes you wonder about the spinning of the PM's much-vaunted moral compass.

The Guradian also has a potted history of Dacre here. An interesting point is the final paragraph

One of Brown's first acts in office was to abandon proposals for supercasinos, a plan which had been the target of a fierce campaign in the Mail.

This maybe shows how deep the relationship is between the two.

Polly Toynbee: Judge Dacre dispenses little justice from his bully pulpit | Comment is free | The Guardian

Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day is a day to commemorate the sacrifices of members of the armed forces and of civilians in times of war, specifically since the First World War. It is observed on 11 November to recall the end of World War I on that date in 1918.

In the United Kingdom, although two minutes of silence is observed on 11 November itself, the main observance is on the second Sunday of November, Remembrance Sunday. Ceremonies are held at local war memorials, usually organised by local branches of the Royal British Legion – an association for ex-servicemen.

It is also a good time to remember all those who are currently serving in defence of our nation both here and in the many places of conflict around the world. Some day, let us hope, they will no longer need to do this. Let us hope that time is close.

The following video is of a song by one of my favourites song writers, Eric Bogle, a Scot who has lived in Australia since 1969. He wrote this song over 30 years ago after visiting the WW1 cemeteries in Europe. Here it is performed by the Corries.

Well how do you do, young Willie McBride,

Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside

And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun

I've been working all day and I'm nearly done.

I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen

When you joined the dead heroes of nineteen-sixteen.

I hope you died well and I hope you died clean

Or Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene.

Chorus :

Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly,

Did they sound the dead-march as they lowered you down.

Did the bugles play the Last Post and chorus,

Did the pipes play the 'Flooers o' the Forest'.

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind

In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined

Although you died back there in nineteen-sixteen

In that faithful heart are you ever nineteen

Or are you a stranger without even a name

Enclosed and forgotten behind the glass frame

In a old photograph, torn and battered and stained

And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame.

The sun now it shines on the green fields of France

The warm summer breeze makes the red poppies dance

And look how the sun shines from under the clouds

There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no guns firing now

But here in this graveyard it's still no-man's-land

The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand

To man's blind indifference to his fellow man

To a whole generaation that were butchered and damned.

Now young Willie McBride I can't help but wonder why

Do all those who lie here know why they died

And did they believe when they answered the cause

Did they really believe that this war would end wars

Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain

The killing and dying was all done in vain

For young Willie McBride it all happened again

And again, and again, and again, and again.