Private Jones-716

Well, there's a silly man, by damn!


No post from me yesterday as I was travelling down to stay in the capital city of my ancestral homeland – a city that even to today is kept remarkably clear of Zulus.
I was a little surprised that it was not awash with camp Cybermen and extremely well dressed bachelors. Can it be that the BBC has somehow given a false impression of something? Surely not. Such a thing’s just not possible.

And then on to a tourist trap culturally parallel to an Ewok’s bottom to meet Tiny Northwester…Who is now rapidly making it plain that she is in fact merely Small Northwester. Who knows where the time goes? Fatherly heartbreak.

Little bit of politics, but Small Northwester’s mother and stepfather seemed utterly convinced that David Cameron is the bee’s knees (I prefer a canine metaphor, as you will know, without “dog’s”) and will set the country to rights. The Mark One Mrs Northwester, utterly certain that we need Mrs. Thatcher back, enthused about Davey Boy as if he was the Once and Future King, risen from his Avalonian tomb to deliver Britain at its hour of greatest need. Now Mk 1 Mrs. N is no fool, and her husband is a smart cookie, and so I was pretty much dumfounded by this. I know that country-dwellers have a reputation for, um, no-frills thinking, but even Wordsworth sussed out the French Revolution eventually.
Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, or what comes from reading The Times these days, or perhaps it’s that they don’t have the internet up there is the hill country and so they absorb their factoids from the MSM only. Wanting Mk 1 Mrs. N to be right, and knowing that she’s not is not exactly a new experience to me, but I never thought the government of the country would be so plain and glaring a subject of disagreement. But that’s the joy of divorce – the longer you’re divorced, the smarter you know you’ve been. I’m sure she thinks the same thing too.

The central premise of House of Dumb (essential reading for conservatives who would rather not make great big silly kippers of themselves) is that really quite clever people can manage to act stupidly according to daft levels of reality-denial and wishful thinking. Conservatives aren’t immune.
Thank the Lord she does believe in safe breaking distances and buying big, chunky, safe cars.

So it’s back to the land of whippets and ferret-juggling ex-mill workers for me today, through bank holiday weekend rain and traffic, and so to a proper-sized computer for my clumsy paws to rant on, rather than this borrowed laptop.

I hope you enjoy the rest of the bank holiday weekend, and with a bit of luck my online pessimism won’t spoil it at all.
Front rank, fire!