Farewell to a Decent Lefty

Yes you read that right! I am about to be NICE about a unreconstructed old lefty!

Chris Mullins, Labour MP for Sunderland South, is standing down at this election.

Another old lefty who reads this blog (who has finally grown up and is now more centre right in his viewpoint :o)) gave me his dairies to read last summer whilst we were away on holiday. Mullins came across as a thoroughly decent man, a proper constituency MP, who did not do too well as a Junior Minister. He is writing in the Times today about his impending retirement and the fear he has about the future.

This is a man who still watches a black and white telly in his flat in London and his expenses were above board. An old fashioned left winger, with a respect for parliament and a duty to his constituents.

More Chris Mullins in Parliament and less Elliot Morley and Labour might be a more palatable party.

I look forward to reading the 2nd volume of his diaries later in the year and wish him a long and happy retirement.

Left wing music required for this post I think. Paul Weller then. His new single, complete 60s throwback, but very infectious - No More Tears to Cry.

Supermarket Sweep

Happy Easter Everyone.


Couple of updates for you from my previous post.

Mrs Macbeth advises that the Steve Davis/Thistle Window combo this weekend is for "chariteee" (they don't want to talk about it much). All very noble but my comments still stand. The charity angle is a ruse to get people through the door and I still can't see how getting Snooker Loopy to visit is going to make you buy a new door.

Now, here's a quote today from Labour MP Frank Field, one of the few of his ilk I have any respect for:

"I don't know how some of my young constituents survive, given the toerags they have as nominal parents."

Does Frank read Tragic Kingdom?! If he does, welcome aboard Sir and please do subscribe.

So I was working yesterday, lots to do so didn't even head off early. Mrs MacBeth wished to have a relaxing bath and requested I go to Tesco for some nice bubble bath. Why she can't use Fairy Liquid, which after all is bubbles, I don't know.
 
I was in there less than 10 minutes, but I was hacked off constantly. It started with the sheer amount of pensioners in there. Why are they roaming around a supermarket at tea time on Good Friday? The place was heaving with people just out of work stocking up on essentials for the holiday weekend. The elderly can shop anytime, why do they always seem to do so at lunchtimes and around 5pm when working people are in there.  Do they get an extra £5 in their pensions as "nuisance allowance" for doing this disservice to the country?

Thereafter as I walked serenely down the aisle, I was forced to take evasive action as a Susan Boyle look alike careered down the aisle with a trolley laden with sugary snacks.  Fatso is important and in a hurry.  Everyone get out of her way.  The horrible obese cow had obviously heard there was a sale at the crisps and doughnuts departments and needed to get there at the speed of light.

So wearily I make my way to check out.  I've got about 8 items.  Now I know it's not the student behind the check out's fault, she is only following orders, but honestly, "Do you want a hand with your packing".  Even I will manage to chuck less than ten items in a plastic bag.  And then I can't get the damned plastic bag to open.............it's like it's super glued together.............I have little fat fingers and this has suddenly become like the Krypton Factor for me.

The other two questions you are always asked nowadays at checkout are, "do you need plastic bags" and "do you have a loyalty card".  If you give the wrong answers here (yes to the former, no to the latter, which inevitably are my stock replies) the till dolly will look at you in the same manner they would if you had just admitted to being Ian Brady's penpal, with Gary Glitter as your lodger.

Meanwhile, behind me in the queue is a guy who has bought 30 pints of milk.  You did read that right.  15 x 2 pint cartons.  What the fuck is he going to do with it?  Is his wife Cleopatra, but has decided goat's milk is too difficult to come by?  Oh and Mr Cleo, thanks for standing hard up my arse in the queue, sighing and fidgeting with impatience, allowing me to inhale your rank halitosis, you harassing me really does make me go quicker through the check out doesn't it.  You utter, utter bell end.

Music recommendation today is the Happy Mondays, who are to headline the Wizard Festival in the North East this summer.  How's about some Step On?  Awesome stuff - off you all go now and twist your melon.............man!

Aged Snooker Player and Feral Youths

A couple of things to ponder tonight over your glass of something to get you through the day. I've blogged before about the feral youths who roam our village. They are small in number and stature, but high on nuisance value. You'd think we lived in some sink estate in Liverpool at times.

There's a new kid on the block. He is not from our street, but is obviously hero worshiped by the gang from our hood. I can see why. He is a couple of years older, wears baggy clothes akin to a hard ass rapper and has ear-rings in both ears. He must be 11 or 12 years old and thinks he's a Deeside White Dr Dre. Motha Fucka.

Dre and the Hood gang were standing outside our house when I came home tonight. They were behind Mrs MacBeth's car and as I drove up to park behind her, our street's home boys moved. Dre didn't move an inch, instead turned and stared at me. As I parked, he mouthed "wanker" at me. As I got out of the car, this little hard man summoned his new hood to walk at pace away from me.

I imagine this horrible little bastard is going to cause all manner of problems as the nights draw out. Keep reading for more installments as the year unfolds.

I don't think I told you all about an incident last summer I witnessed. One of Dre's followers this evening stays with his grandparents and mother a few doors away. Dad? God knows. He was playing with the gang one evening when his Grandfather shouted him in for his tea. To which Grandad was informed "Fuck off, I'm not coming in, it's a free country".

What in the name of Allah are you meant to do with these kids? I'd never have even thought of speaking to my Granda like that, essentially because of my sheer love for the man and, if I had ever done so, he'd have kicked my arse from here to Kingdom come!! And rightly so. What's happened to respect? I know many who'd blame a woman who left No 10 Downing Street at least a decade before these kids were even born. Thatcher's always a great scapegoat for this country's ills.

On a completely different tack, Thistle Windows in Aberdeen have an really fucking irritating radio jingle (call Thistle Windows Aberdeen 706 treble 5). They're now urging us all to head to their showrooms this weekend to meet Steve Davies. Why meeting a guy who's sport (snooker) has been on the wane popularity wise for years and who's claim to fame (apart from winning 6 world titles) is being a boring sod will make you part with your hard earned for a conservatory or double glazing is unclear to me. Maybe that's why I'm a recruiter and not a PR Guru..............

Until next time, let me leave you with another song recommendation. Tonight it's going back to the original line up of Fleetwood Mac with the legendary Peter Green on board. It's difficult to remember that they weren't always a middle of the road rock band (saying that I love Big Love and Little Lies from Tango in the Night). But here's them at their smoothest, sassiest, sexiest blues best. Need Your Love So Bad. Listen to the string arrangement behind the guitar. Sublime. Download it immediately.

Labour with a Working Majority

Hello Everyone!

Well I apologise profusely for the distinct lack of blogging. No excuse really, just the usual busy life, both at work and home. Not complaining, being busy at work is great and long may it continue.

Tonight's title is my prediction for the forthcoming General Election. I had a bit of an epiphany over the weekend in this respect. For months I've been watching with astonishment as the Conservative lead had dwindled. I was thinking, who in their right mind would vote back in a party that's led us to the state this country is now in. And this weekend I figured out why.

I was coming from this as the employee of a small private sector company. Someone who pays his taxes and works in a sector that is dependent on a strong economy and wealth generating organisations continuing to recruit skilled technical personnel and senior management with the business acumen to continue growing the business in a profitable manner.

I now concede I am in the minority in this country. And people like me are despised by this Government.

There is an army of people in this country who are dependent on this Government for their livelihoods. We have a Public Sector which would make the old Soviet Union envious. A clear example of how mollycoddled from the real world these people are is the recent strike. Why were they striking? The Government for once was trying to get them to agree to a more reasonable settlement in the unlikely event they were made redundant. No chance, everybody out.

Then we have the 8 million people who are "economically inactive" - all sitting at home on nice cushy benefits, again paid for by the tax payer. Of course there are some of these people desperate to get back into employment, but for every one of them, there's plenty happy to sit on their backsides and hoover up every penny they can get their hands on.

Only in the UK can you walk up a street, look at the cars parked outside houses and safely assume the newest, shiniest ones are owned by people who don't work.

So there you have it. Millions upon Millions of people in this country are totally in debt to this Government for their employment/benefits. The minority support them all. Turkeys don't vote for Christmas. Brown back as PM with a majority of around 20.

And fuck knows what us in the minority will do then. He hates us with a passion and he'll do everything he can to destroy us.

Only one song sums my mood up tonight. It's a stone cold classic. The Rolling Stones. Paint it Black.

Bully Boys

Bullying in the workplace is in the news. Our esteemed Prime Mentalist, erm I mean Minister has been accused of all sorts of bullying of his staff and Bruce Robertson, Education Supremo at Aberdeenshire Council is ‘on leave’ following allegations of bullying Head Teachers (and “inappropriate behaviour” with a member of staff).

Only in the Public Sector can someone be put on leave pending an investigation. What’s the bet Robbo the Beastly Education Boss will be sitting at home on full pay for months now. I also laugh at the “inappropriate behaviour” piece – only Councils still speak in this manner, like it’s still the 1920’s. What next – if it’s proven they will inform us they have “carnal knowledge” of each other and that he is a 'beastly bully"....

Now you know I’m not a big fan of the one eyed Fife money spender. But on this occasion, I’ll back him up a little. The allegations against Brown and Robertson smack of the kind of lilly livered nonsense that prevails in the public sector. For Bullying, I suspect we could insert “getting shouted at a bit" instead.

In the private sector, you get shouted at by the boss when you’ve fucked up. You take it, shrug your shoulders and move on. In the public sector, if you’re shouted at for fucking up, you get your feelings hurt and the nanny state goes into overdrive. Counselling. Grievance Procedures. Suspensions. Investigations. All paid for by Mr and Mrs Tax Payer – as is any compensation that is inevitably paid out in respect of a breach of their human rights.

It really is pathetic. Quick message for the Public Sector – toughen up and get on with it you shower of wet lettuces.

Music tonight - how about some smooth 80s Soul? If so may I direct you towards Alexander O'Neil's "Criticise" - now that's a voice.

Loyalty and Respect

I've deliberately taken a few days since Aberdeen's debacle on Tuesday night before I blogged about it.  When emotions are raw you end up ranting and looking back at what you've written a few days later and think, "that's a load of shite I've written there". The anger has not abated so this will still be a rant I feel.

I'll start with the team.  They are a fucking disgrace.  A shower of overpaid, under performing shysters, cheats and sulkers.   They swan around the city thinking they are something special, only trying when the television cameras are in town in order to assist in their latest machinations to engineer a move away from the club.

These fuckwits seem to think they are bigger than a club with two European trophies to its name.  None of them are fit to wear the jersey, either because they are lazy (McDonald), under-performing (Kerr), in a comfort zone (Langfield, Foster) not good enough (Mackie, Young, Duff, Ifil, Grassi) or sulking (Aluko). This shower of shite can leave any time they like.  These bastards cannot get it into their pea brains that Aberdeen is the biggest club they will ever play for.  From here it is a one way ticket to oblivion.  It is all they deserve.

I exempt the youngsters (Paton, Fyvie, Pawlett) and the loan players (Paterson, MacLean).  Diamond is just back from injury and though limited, he gives 100% and should be captain.  Mulgrew has been our best "senior player" this season and was badly missed on Tuesday night. 

Mark McGhee is hurting.  Badly.  You can see it in his press conferences since the game.  He is also, quite rightly, angry.  He has been let down by the above mentioned retards.  Many of them are the old Manager's boys and have obviously not taken to Mark's style of management.  But instead of being professional and doing their job of work to the best of their ability they decide to sulk instead.  How many of us have had bosses we didn't like or respect?  But for your own pride you "got on with the job" (copyright one eyed money stealing Fife arsehole). 

McGhee's hands are tied behind his back, he has been left a "pig in a poke" with the runt of Calderwood's awful team, and no money to rectify it.  My only criticism of McGhee would be (and this is hindsight, always easier) that his own initial signings, following promising beginnings, have fell apart (Ifil, Grassi, Marshall).

Which brings me to the board.  Stewart Milne has overseen disaster after disaster at the club.  How a man who has ran such a successful business can make such a pig's ear of running a football club is beyond me.  I understand his wish to run it like a business, but he must know that starving a business of all spending power is ultimately futile, as you stagnate and die.  Unless there is a little speculating to accumulate in the close season, we are in for many more Raith Rovers results.  And where the fuck is Martin Gilbert and the rest of the invisible men?  And I include the "fan's representative" Chris Gavin in that.  Lord Lucan has made more appearances than he has over the past few years.

Willie Miller was a hero of mine as I grew up.  He seemed a colossus to a teenager watching him as he kept world class strikers at club and international level in his back pocket.  A gasp and shudder went through the crowd when we lost a goal.  Disbelief when he made a mistake.  I can't remember many mistakes on the pitch.  There's plenty now.  I applaud his work to get the youth system re-established.  But his work as the Director of Football is average at best and his six figure salary is looking very expensive.  His well publicised business problems outwith the Dons are a distraction and, much as it pains me to say it, he needs to consider his position.

And finally the fans.  What a bunch of fucking arseholes we have in our midst nowadays.  Screaming for the boss' head after half a season.  Spitting and throwing stuff at him.  Get over yourselves you dicks. This is the Sky generation's reaction.  Lose one game and hairy hands Keys is asking Jamie "tight trousers" Redknapp if the manager is under pressure.  No wonder it then filters into the cranially challenged that this is how you behave.   I swear there were people there on Tuesday who wanted us to lose just so they could lose the plot.  I'd rather there were only 4,000 of us left in the stadium and these neanderthals just fucked off. 

The saddest thing is that if the club went to the wall tomorrow there's about 7,000 of us that would be bereft and wonder what in the world we were going to do on a Saturday from now on.

The rest of the City and Shire would read about, think "och that's a shame" and get on with their day. 

Loyalty and Respect - they died a long time ago, along with my football club's reputation.  And there's no one person to blame - all the above have played a part.

Music tonight, well after that depressing post I need cheering up - so here's some 80s Rock for you - Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again", get on You Tube and check the video - big hair, lovely ladies, Jags being driven, all good boys own stuff - enjoy!

Union Terrace Gardens

Sir Ian Wood wants to concrete over Union Terrace Gardens and turn it into a "city square".

Jesus, where do I start with this.  Have you seen the plans.  Concrete central.  As a sop, there's a few trees thrown in for good measure, but essentially this is a slab of concrete.  Just what we need. 

Supporters claim there's more greenery than in the gardens as they are just now.  They've wheeled out a tame horticulturalist who claims all the plants and trees are dying in the gardens as they get little sunlight. Tenuous stuff in the extreme. 

Of course the idiots in charge of the city are in favour and the pathetic local rags are also in support.  This cabal of delinquents are so in awe of the likes of Sir Ian Wood and Stewart Milne (who is unsurprisingly also in favour) that if they suggested building a leaking nuclear reactor in place of the Gardens they'd enthusiastically back the plan.

The £50m pledged by Wood has to be supplemented by the Council to the tune of at least £60m.  Where in the name of Allah are they going to find that? 

It's very magnanimous of Sir Ian to wish to leave a legacy to the city, although there is worrying talk of businesses in the city being pressurised into backing the plan and I've yet to hear a "normal" person in favour. 

The likes of Union Terrace and Broad Street are windswept, cold places even on a decent summer's day.  We are not Barcelona, Florence or Paris.  We are Aberdeen and with our 5 days of nice weather a year, the last thing we need is a place to promenade.  Think of the mess the place will get in on a Saturday night!

Now I know the Gardens are not wonderful.  They are a no go area for many as they are full of junkies and winos.  But the plans already in place for the regeneration are solid.  Peacock Arts have a innovative plan for an Arts Centre, which already has planning permission. 

The Victorian toilets, closed by the monkeys in charge years ago, are a work of art in themselves and there's plans to turn them into a restaurant.  Spruce up the foliage, add a few cafes and coffee shops, get the Police to actually do their job and get rid of the jakeys, have the community wardens patrolling frequently and bob's your uncle.  It'll cost a shedload less than £50million.

If Sir Ian wants to spend £50m, might I suggest he volunteers to clean all the granite buildings on Union Street, regenerates the original city square at Castlegate , buys some more art for the already excellent Art Gallery and assists demolishing St Nicholas House and that glass carbuncle they've thrown up on the side of His Majesty's Theatre and give me the change.  :o)

But if he insists on concreting over the only greenery in the City Centre, then by all means do so as the New Pittodrie Stadium. 

Music tonight - how about a bit of jazz?  Cry me a River has been covered by every man/woman and their dog.  For me, Julie London's version is the definitive and best - download it and judge for yourself, you will not be disappointed - tremendous off key double bass, sultry, velvety vocals, sublime and haunting.

Middle Aged Spread and the Lack of Time

Evening all.  Doesn't time fly, can't believe how long it's been since I blogged.  Usual excuses I'm afraid, busy at work, a million things to do at home etc.  And there's a new excuse - middle aged vanity has kicked in.

Mrs MacBeth was given Wii Fit for her Xmas.  So early January I decided to have a wee shot.  It gives you a synopsis of your weight etc.  It came back with the news that I am obese.  Now with everything else nowadays, the term "obese" has been bandied about for people who are a wee bit overweight.  But it still pissed me off to the degree that I got my arse in gear and decided to look after myself a bit better.

I had started to play five a side football last year with the guys from work, but I ended up with tendonitis in my right knee.  Rest and physio is the only cure.  So the good work I'd done playing fives went to the wall over the last 6 months and I probably put on about a stone. 

So over the past 3 weeks I've jacked in chocolate.  And biscuits.  And worst of all crisps.  I love crisps.

No snacking between meals.  Eating more healthily at lunch and tea.  Actually having breakfast.  Cutting down the cans of beer at the weekends (will be a glass of red wine from now on). 

Using the Wii Fit regularly, running for 10-15 minutes per day, doing the yoga and stretching exercises.  And I've lost around 6 pounds already.  Determined to get rid of a stone and a half overall.  I'm hoping the physio will sort the tendonitis altogether so I can get back to the football again.  And I'll be playing more golf this season and taking long walks with the family when the weather gets better.

Middle age creeps up on you and the belly does too.  I must be de-toxing a bit too as I've not felt all that great.  The amount of fruit I've been eating has given my insides a real clear out too!!!!

In the long run I hope this will all to my advantage.  Time will tell if I can keep it up.

Music tonight and we're back to the 80s soft rock again.  Marillion and their Scottish frontman Fish's finest hour - Kayleigh.  Kept from the top spot by Frankie by Sister Sledge.  Jesus wept.

UK Terror Threat Level

A bonus blog for you all tonight.

The UK terror threat level has just been raised from "substantial" to "severe" 

The new level means a terrorist attack is considered "highly likely".

The Home Secretary claims it is in response to the perceived increased threat from international terrorism following the failed Detroit airliner bombing on Christmas Day. 

Johnson stressed there was no intelligence to suggest a terrorist attack was imminent. 

So they've increased the level to "highly likely" even thought they have no intelligence to suggest there's an attack imminent, but because of a failed bombing a month ago on a plane from Holland to the USA.

Anyone else confused by those seemingly contradictory statements?  

Cyclops and the Postman wouldn't be ramping up the terror angle to make themselves look like Statesmen with a General Election looming would they?

Or even as a conduit to try and get the General Election postponed as the terror threat is "too great".......................surely not.

Just asking like.

Bonus music recommendation - Green Day - "Good Riddance (Time of your Life)"

The Kids are (not) Alright

I'm sure you've all read today about the two brothers from South Yorkshire who attacked other children in a sadistic attack.  They have been sentenced to an indefinite period of detention.  This sounds like a decent sentence until you hear they will serve a "minimum of five years".  

Being the UK Justice system that means they will be out in 5 years, be given anonymity and allowed to spend the rest of their lives as free men, like Thompson and Venables who murdered Jamie Bulger in the early 90s.

The pair, aged 10 and 11 at the time of the attack, threatened to kill their 9 and 11-year-old victims. 

During their 90-minute ordeal the victims were stamped on, forced to strip and hit with bricks. 

So who's to blame here? The offenders had a chaotic upbringing with their violent father, mother and five brothers.  They were shown "extreme" horror films and the younger brother had access to pornographic DVDs and smoked cannabis grown on his father's allotment. This may be extreme, but it's not uncommon nowadays for children to be brought up in a home of this nature. 

You might think this is a "big city" problem.  Only happens on sink estates.  Nothing to do with us.

I disagree.

I don't think it matters where you live. We have feral children in the village.  One in particular roams the streets, mother has no idea (or concern) where he is.  She has 4 kids from different fathers and the wee lad is just left to his own devices. 

With a bit of guidance I think he'd be ok (although he always has that wee glint of devilment in his eyes!) but there's no doubt he'll be in the new "superjail" at Peterhead before the decade is out. 

He's accumulated a gang of others with less than stringent parents (including my old friend Ms Audi A3's boy, who's never off the streets). 

We won't let our two out of the garden as I don't want them getting involved with them.  There's always the worry that your own kids, less "streetwise" than these bairns who have had to fend for themselves since they were toddlers, will get abused physically or mentally by these urchins.

It's a shocking indictment on the country, if we have this kind of thing in a wee village in Aberdeenshire, nowhere's immune.

Lord of the Flies house rules I guess.

Music tonight, another Scottish band for you - Franz Ferdinand and the excellent "Take me Out"

Sir James of Calderwood - Not a Homecoming

So the man with the infamous Glasgow "patter" returns to Pittodrie on Saturday in charge of Kilmarnock.

After all his posturing for a "bigger" job, it has finally dawned on Jimmy Calderwood that the Aberdeen job was the biggest he'll ever have in football.  He's still droning on in the press that he can't understand why he got the sack from the Dons.  Let me explain Jimmy.

Yes, you stabilised the club at a time of complete turmoil.  However your mates in the Central Belt press over-egged your reputation to a nonsensical degree.  The rubbish that was spouted about your attacking play defies belief.  The football was mind numbingly boring.  In the whole time you were in charge I think I enjoyed the following games:

Dundee United 2-0 win at Pittodrie.
Dundee United 3-2 win at Tannadice in the Cup.
The wins at Pittodrie against your beloved Rangers.
The UEFA Cup game against Copenhagen (I was ill and couldn't attend Bayern Munich).
Celtic 4-2 win at Pittodrie.

I cannot and will not forgive you for the pain inflicted in the Cup defeats to Queens Park, Dunfermline and above all Queen of the South,

Queen of the Fucking South James.  At Hampden.  In a semi final.  All you had to do was calm the team down for 10 minutes after we'd equalised, pass it around a bit, take the sting out of the game and all would have been well.  Basic managerial stuff.  But you let us get sucked into a ding dong cup game.  Great for the neutral.  Soul destroying for a fan.  With an out on their feet Rangers waiting in the Final.  Clueless.

I hated the way you "matched up" your teams to whoever we played, let it be Munich or Montrose.

I hated the way you attacked Aberdonians for being soft and mollycoddled.

I hated the way you went on endlessly about your Rangers connections and your dad drinking in the Govan Bowling Club.

I hated the way you endlessly touted yourself for a new job, trying to use my club as a stepping stone, especially when taking the credit for a win. 

But always blamed the players when we lost.

I hated the way you sucked up to other teams and their players, "Big Lee", "Wee Barry", "Coisty" etc etc etc

I hated the way you name dropped.

So what to do on Saturday when you roll up the touchline at Pittodrie.  I know you'll be dying to get a poor reception.  This will allow you and your chums in the Glasgow press to go after Dons fans again. 

So I won't give you the satisfaction.  I'll do what I do with every other opposing manager.  I'll ignore you. 

And hope to God the Dons get three points.  Or we'll never hear the end of it.

Music tonight from American Rockers Train with Drops of Jupiter.  Sublime.

Reading Recommendations

I have a real passion for certain things in life.  Music, Politics, the North East of Scotland and Sport (especially the Dons, golf and cricket) have been documented a lot here, but not the other big love I have - reading.

I've always been a huge reader.  I have no doubt my dreadful eyesight is due to reading the likes of the Famous Five under my bed covers to torchlight as a kid (amongst other things that make you go blind!!!!).


I normally try to get 30 - 60 minutes of reading in before I go to sleep of an evening.  History, Biographies and Autobiographies are my favourites, it is rare for a fiction novel to catch my attention - Mrs MacBeth, also a voracious reader is the fiction fan in our household, Ian Rankin being a particular favourite of hers.



At the moment I am reading the wonderful "Berlin - The Downfall 1945" by Anthony Beevor.  A history book, but certainly not a dusty boring read, Beevor narrates the end of the Third Reich at the hands of Stalin's Red Army like a fictional novel, the scary thing being the total destruction of this great city at the heart of Europe was real.  The brutality of both sides, as the Russians wreaked furious vengenge for the invasion of the Mother Country, is unspeakable.  

If like me you have a real interest in the World Wars of the 20th Century this book and also his similar book on Salingrad are must reads.   I would also recommend Martin Gilbert's tomes on the First and Second World Wars.  Lengthy and you need to have stamina to get through them, but incredibly well researched and written.


In a similar vein, Orlando Fige's "The Whisperers" investigates the private lives of the general public in Stalin's Russia.  The interference and surveillance is horiffic.  I think our wonderful Prime Minister is taking his lead from his Comrade in state interference!


If you think this country is going to hell in a handcart, read Peter Hitchens' the Abolition of Britain, where he chroncicles the decline in Great Britain since the death of Churchill in the late 1960s.  Whilst I don't agree with all he says (he does go into wild hyperbole at times) the essence of the book is sound.


Although a left wing firebrand, I fall into hypocricy again, by being a big fan of the works of George Orwell.  Penguin have a wonder "Complete Works of George Orwell" compilation which gives you the classics (Animal Farm, 1984) along with short stories and other lesser known works.  


Also recommended for the political animals in you are the diaries of Tony Benn, Alan Clark and Chris Mullins, along with Thatcher's "The Downing Street Years".  


If I was to recommend a fiction novel to you - Joseph Heller's "Something Happened" is a challenging read about an average Joe descending into manic depression.  


My next read will be Lewis Grassic Gibbon's "Scot's Quair" which includes the seminal Sunset Song, though I am determined to read the whole trilogy and not just the famous singular novel.  It is to my eternal shame I have not read this local classic long before now.  


Let me know your own recommendations and favourites in the comments sections.


Music tonight is an absolute stone cold country classic - the Harper Valley PTA by Jeannie C Riley.  A wonderful attack on the establishment's hypocrisy.

End of An Era - another Chance for the Lefties to Bash Thatcher

Hi Folks

Many thanks for all the queries about the lack of blogging.  It's a real tonic that a lot of you are encouraging me to get back into it and that there's a lot of people who read it without having added themselves as followers - don't be shy folks get logged on and get commenting!  And I promise I'll get back to blogging 3 or 4 times a week, time permitting.  Truth be told it's not easy with work and home commitments, but I'll try my best!

So the thing that really caught my eye today was the news that the Mickey Mouse Government in Edinburgh are passing legislation to cease the sale of council houses to tenants. 

This was a flagship Thatcherite policy of the 1980's and hundreds of thousands of working class families took advantage of the chance to buy a house.  Many were the first in their families to have their own property and it gave the working classes a chance they'd never had before. 

The lack of houses being built by the councils to compensate has been the main reason why there's now a dearth of "social housing" (what we called council houses!) and the housing associations that have popped up don't pick up all the slack. 

It would also help of course if the available council houses weren't handed out to undeserving individuals and given instead to hard working families who've been priced out of the market.  Get some buckfast or heroin down you guys, or have a few kids (dad can move in later once you've got the house) and you're straight to the top of the list.

But none of the above can take away the gratitude a large section of the working class of this country owe to Thatcher for the opportunity they were given. Yes that right lefties, the working class, you know the people you claim to help.  Shame that once again a Labour Government will leave office with the poor worse off and more unemployed than when they came to power.  Still let's not let facts get in the way of a "Tory toff" soundbite eh.

However the left wing of this country's absolute hatred for the Iron Lady means the bile is out again, blaming her for the mess the housing stock is now in.  There's a mass of individuals in this country waiting to dance on her grave when she passes away.  Of course she made mistakes.  But the lefties forget the mess this place was in when she came to power. 

Strikes, 3 day weeks, power cuts.  Going cap in hand to the IMF.  Rubbish left uncollected in the streets.  The dead unburied.  I remember as a kid many nights sitting round a paraffin heater, playing Monopoly by candlelight. 

I'll blog again at a later date about the 80s and the rest of the Thatcher premiership.  I was 10 when she came to power and 21 when she was ousted.  I am one of Thatcher's despised children.  Working class kids in the 80s were not seen to be aspiring to better themselves.  Nope, historically we've been tarred as greedy, selfish bastards. 

This country is now run by a clique of left wing media clowns (BBC, Guardian et al) who's spite and hatred for a woman (would they have been so hateful if it had been a male?) who has been out of office for 20 years is undiminished and they will peddle their myths about her and the generation who grew up under her Premiership until we're all in the grave.

People who's politics are Centre Right are now a small minority in Scotland.  As recently as the 50s Scotland was predominantly Tory voting.  Again I'll discuss the reasons for this more as the election draws nearer.

Tonight's music is by a man who was no fan of Mrs T but when he wrote songs like Sweet Gene Vincent you can let Ian Dury off with a lot.  His band the Blockheads were brilliant, keeping the rhythm section perfect whilst Dury's lyrics meandered.  A sad loss when he died, Dury had polio as a child but never let his disability get in the way of his powerful stage presence.

A True Story (Probably)

Happy New Year to you all.  This global warming malarkey is wonderful isn't it.............

Let me tell you a story.  Steve and Jennifer Bobton-Smythe have been extremely inconvenienced by the current poor weather.  Neither come from upper class stock, the double barreled name comes from them adding their surnames together when they married.  He's an accountant and she's a Travelling Persons Diversity Benefits and Culture Co-Ordinator. 

They looked all the spring and summer months last year for a perfect home and finally found one in a small hamlet 30 miles from Aberdeen.  What a wonderful, rustic, rural community to live in. 

The first frosts of October worried Jennifer, so Steve bought a big ugly 4x4 for them.  They drove in and out of town at 80 miles per hour on a daily basis, tailgating other road users and lording it over the oiks in their lesser vehicles.

But oh dear.  The rural idyll has gone the way of the pear.  The worst winter in 50 years is upon us.  And now Steve is driving into town at 20 miles per hour with a queue a mile long behind him of people he normally tailgates and abuses.  Steve cannot handle his 4x4.  Or Snow.  Or Ice. 

The moral of the story - don't buy a house in rural Aberdeenshire if you can't drive in poor weather and adverse road conditions. 

I thank you in advance for your co-operation in this matter...............

First music recommendation of the year from Glasvegas "Daddy's Gone".  More than a nod to the Motown bands of the 60's and all the better for it.