Dr. Frank Ellis recently made a point concerning the failure of our politicians, and I expand this to include English, Welsh, Scottish and Irish politicians, North and South (was it Ian Paisley who announced “better a Kenyan than a Fenian”), who have let us down by allowing unfettered immigration into our homelands in the last four decades. And more specifically discuss the question, how are we going to rescue ourselves from the curse of multiculturalism?
What is so wrong with our culture that we need to adopt other alien cultures? Our Anglo/Celtic culture gave us great literature and prose from the likes of Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton and Joyce, great scientists and inventors like Newton, Faraday, Kelvin, Boyle and Watt, and great leaders like Wellington, Nelson and Churchill. Our culture also gave the world such modern wonders as the steam engine, railways, steam turbine, gas turbine (jet engine), jet aircraft, telephone, television, computers, penicillin, IVF and many many other benefits too numerous to mention. It also added greatly to the concept of democracy and freedom of speech which is now under threat from the politically correct brigade.
The list is endless and I defy anybody to produce a similar list from any of the cultures that have and are being imposed upon the indigenous Britons. Arab culture did once produce great science and literature but has not been so prolific since adopting its medieval religious/political system 1400 years ago. African culture has produced little, if anything, that can be said to be of value. I suppose that we can grant India the dubious honour of having expanded our cuisine to include chicken tikka masala. I note that my spell-check rejects the words tikka and masala.
I cannot understand what gain can be expected from the cultures of immigrant societies that come from failed or failing states, non democratic states, states led by dictatorships, brutal or benign and states which discriminate against women and homosexuals and other unfortunates. Surely all of these societies are a result of the culture of the society from which it is spawned. Do we really want to absorb such cultures into ours? Will these cultures not take us back to a medieval past we have thankfully left behind us a long time ago?
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Evil Social Workers
Leaning over the hospital incubator, Tara Norman smiled proudly down at her tiny newborn twins and whispered: ‘You should see what you have done to your Mummy’s body.’ That statement resulted in two babies being taken away from their natural mother and into foster care.
In Britain social workers act rapidly to remove children from normal decent parents on the basis of minor or even imaginary infractions, while turning a blind eye to gross child abuse by the underclass.
The evil is neither negligent nor random. It follows the pattern expected from the leftist-oriented faculties of sociology in second rate universities from where most social workers graduate. There they undergo indoctrination, whilst spending most of their study time protesting on the streets of British cities, and learn that the middle (working) class is the enemy and the underclass is to be seen as virtuous, before going on to social work.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1372497/Home-The-twins-snatched-state.html
In Britain social workers act rapidly to remove children from normal decent parents on the basis of minor or even imaginary infractions, while turning a blind eye to gross child abuse by the underclass.
The evil is neither negligent nor random. It follows the pattern expected from the leftist-oriented faculties of sociology in second rate universities from where most social workers graduate. There they undergo indoctrination, whilst spending most of their study time protesting on the streets of British cities, and learn that the middle (working) class is the enemy and the underclass is to be seen as virtuous, before going on to social work.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1372497/Home-The-twins-snatched-state.html
Friday, March 4, 2011
Tall stories from 20 Squadron.
When 20 Squadron first deployed to Singapore in 1961 it needed to become operational quickly, therefore all pilots posted to the squadron were 2nd tour pilots. Once the squadron was well established and with increasing operational demands and increased aircraft establishment (we eventually had 19 aircraft), we started accepting 1st tour pilots. These newly trained pilots, coming direct from the training units, were a little green about the gills and therefore presented an ideal opportunity for the old hands to play some devious tricks on them.
The picture will give you some idea of how young jocks behave.
Story 1
One of these new pilots was taken into the CO’s office, where one of the jocks, dressed in the COs KD, began to interview the rookie jock in a slapdash and gormless manner. On the CO’s wall was a large map of the Malay Peninsula to which he turned so as to point out the squadron’s home base at Tengah and other prominent landmarks such as the nearby Indonesian border (with whom we were at war with at the time) and which would be important for an operational jock to be aware of. But instead of showing a knowledgeable image to the newcomer, the CO began to look all over the map trying to find Singapore on which RAF Tengah was based, he hesitated and fumbled and could not locate Tengah or even the Indonesian border. Finally giving up on the exercise, the CO terminated the interview and instructed the new jock to find these things out for himself.
Story 2
Taken into the jock’s crew room, a rookie pilot was introduced to a slovenly, unshaven and somewhat inebriated looking Sergeant pilot (he’d borrowed the line chiefs KD tunic for this). At that moment a flight commander entered the crew room and loudly demanded of the Sergeant pilot why he was not dressed in his flying gear. To this the Sergeant responded with a stream of invective which included an instruction to the flight commander to go f#ck himself. The flight commander takes all this pretty calmly and apologised profusely to the Sergeant for being so abrupt with him in the first place, but would he kindly do him a favour and get ready for his flight. With a stroppy leer on his face the Sergeant pilot gets into his flying kit, staggers out to the flight line, climbs up the ladder, slipping off a couple of times before he succeeds, and into the cockpit of one of the aircraft, starts the engine, taxies out (badly) and takes off.
Story 3
On his first day on the squadron a new rookie pilot is taken into the squadron operations room. In the ops room was a radio through which the squadron ops officer could communicate with pilots when flying. Whilst the rookie pilot was present, the following conversation, took place between the ops officer and a pilot flying on a sortie. This was a set up but this was unknown to the rookie.
Pilot, “I am having engine difficulties and it may flame out at any moment.” He therefore requested ops to “send out the air-sea rescue launch and helicopters in case I have to eject. Over.”
Ops officer, “It is lunch time now old boy and I don’t think it would be right to disturb the rescue crews whilst they were eating so you will have to wait until they finish eating. Over.”
Pilot, “the engine had now flamed out. Please advise what I should do now. Over.”
Ops officer, “Sorry old chap but I’m afraid there’s noting we can do for you now but wish you the best of luck and to tell you that it has been nice working with you. I suggest that you eject. Goodbye and good luck. Out”
Story 4
One of our flight commanders dressed himself up in a padre’s uniform, whilst one of other pilots who was not only small but also looked very young and boyish, dressed himself up as a school boy and acted as the padre’s son.
The newly arrived rookie pilot was introduced to the “padre” and his “son”. While the rookie was present in the crew-room the padre’s son asked the flight commander if could have a flight. The answer was no. Begging and pleading by the son, with the support of the padre, soon produced a positive response. The son then gets dressed in flying gear, exits the crewroom and proceeds to climb into a single seat Hunter, starts up and taxies out. The padre remarked to the rookie that "there’s no limit to what a father must do for a son."
The picture will give you some idea of how young jocks behave.
Click picture to enlarge.
Although these devious tricks occurred whilst I served on 20 Squadron, I was not directly involved myself. I give them to you as they were told to me and as best my memory serves. All these were set ups and the rookie pilots were unaware of this. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.Story 1
One of these new pilots was taken into the CO’s office, where one of the jocks, dressed in the COs KD, began to interview the rookie jock in a slapdash and gormless manner. On the CO’s wall was a large map of the Malay Peninsula to which he turned so as to point out the squadron’s home base at Tengah and other prominent landmarks such as the nearby Indonesian border (with whom we were at war with at the time) and which would be important for an operational jock to be aware of. But instead of showing a knowledgeable image to the newcomer, the CO began to look all over the map trying to find Singapore on which RAF Tengah was based, he hesitated and fumbled and could not locate Tengah or even the Indonesian border. Finally giving up on the exercise, the CO terminated the interview and instructed the new jock to find these things out for himself.
Story 2
Taken into the jock’s crew room, a rookie pilot was introduced to a slovenly, unshaven and somewhat inebriated looking Sergeant pilot (he’d borrowed the line chiefs KD tunic for this). At that moment a flight commander entered the crew room and loudly demanded of the Sergeant pilot why he was not dressed in his flying gear. To this the Sergeant responded with a stream of invective which included an instruction to the flight commander to go f#ck himself. The flight commander takes all this pretty calmly and apologised profusely to the Sergeant for being so abrupt with him in the first place, but would he kindly do him a favour and get ready for his flight. With a stroppy leer on his face the Sergeant pilot gets into his flying kit, staggers out to the flight line, climbs up the ladder, slipping off a couple of times before he succeeds, and into the cockpit of one of the aircraft, starts the engine, taxies out (badly) and takes off.
Story 3
On his first day on the squadron a new rookie pilot is taken into the squadron operations room. In the ops room was a radio through which the squadron ops officer could communicate with pilots when flying. Whilst the rookie pilot was present, the following conversation, took place between the ops officer and a pilot flying on a sortie. This was a set up but this was unknown to the rookie.
Pilot, “I am having engine difficulties and it may flame out at any moment.” He therefore requested ops to “send out the air-sea rescue launch and helicopters in case I have to eject. Over.”
Ops officer, “It is lunch time now old boy and I don’t think it would be right to disturb the rescue crews whilst they were eating so you will have to wait until they finish eating. Over.”
Pilot, “the engine had now flamed out. Please advise what I should do now. Over.”
Ops officer, “Sorry old chap but I’m afraid there’s noting we can do for you now but wish you the best of luck and to tell you that it has been nice working with you. I suggest that you eject. Goodbye and good luck. Out”
Story 4
One of our flight commanders dressed himself up in a padre’s uniform, whilst one of other pilots who was not only small but also looked very young and boyish, dressed himself up as a school boy and acted as the padre’s son.
The newly arrived rookie pilot was introduced to the “padre” and his “son”. While the rookie was present in the crew-room the padre’s son asked the flight commander if could have a flight. The answer was no. Begging and pleading by the son, with the support of the padre, soon produced a positive response. The son then gets dressed in flying gear, exits the crewroom and proceeds to climb into a single seat Hunter, starts up and taxies out. The padre remarked to the rookie that "there’s no limit to what a father must do for a son."
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Story of a duck
The photo is 20 squadron celebrating their 50th anniversary in Singapore in 1965. The duck which was named Sierra, is circled in red and was the squadron mascot. He was bought, together with his mate Tango, as day old ducks late one night down Bugis Street, by an inebriated airman and released the next morning in the squadron operating area. They never lacked for anything to eat or drink as there were dozens of erks around to feed and water them.
Click for a larger picture.
Their names were derived from the two T7 Hunters which we had and whose squadron codes were S(ierra) and T(ango). If you look closely you will see both T7s parked at the end of the line.
They soon grew accustomed to the sound of loud jet engines as the aircraft taxied in and out of their hardstandings. Occasionally they would take to the air if caught in the jet blast of a taxiing Hunter, but it never seemed to do them any harm, they were birds after all.
When the squadron went on detachment, a Beverly (large transport aircraft) would come in to pick up both us and the ground servicing equipment. Needless to say, Sierra and Tango were also loaded on board. On arrival at the detachment airbase they would be released in the new squadron operating area and they took to it like the proverbial duck takes to water.
In the evenings after flying had finished for the day, the chaps would usually retire to the NAFFI for beers. And of course we were accompanied by Sierra and Tango. It wasn't long before the ducks were invited to join us on the table and there to my great shame I corrupted both birds into the habit of drinking Tiger beer. You’ve not seen anything until you have seen two drunken ducks.
All efforts to convince our pilots to take one of the birds up in a Hunter so it could fly through the sound barrier met with a resounding NO.
We did have a tortoise which was taken into the air in a Hunter and exceeded the speed of sound. Making it possibly the fastest tortoise in the world.
The ducks were still wandering around the squadron when I finished my tour and returned to old Blighty. A couple of years later the UK pulled back from east of Suez, which meant the disbandment of the squadron, but I never found out what happened the two ducks after that.
Monday, February 28, 2011
The Great War, the last time Ireland fought to defend Europe
There have been many occasions throughout history when Irishmen joined foreign armies to fight and die to protect the freedom of countries in Europe, and the last time this happened was in August 1914 when the Great War started. (If the truth be known these boys, some as young as 15, joined mainly for excitement and adventure and to get away from poverty stricken Ireland.)
Ireland was neutral during the Second World as it has been in all wars since then. That of course did not stop young Irishmen joining the armies who were fighting. I doubt there has been any major conflict since the Great War where Irishmen did not die. The number of gallantry honours they won are proof of their amazing courage.
In the opening days of the Great War, the Germans swiftly advanced through neutral Belgium and were threatening Paris. Redmond, the leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party, who with the support of the Catholic Church in Ireland under the slogan "save Catholic Belgium", called upon the Irish Volunteers to enlist in existing Irish regiments of the British army, in support of the Allied war effort.
The sad thing is that whilst there are a number of War Memorials in Belgium and France, honouring those Irishmen who fell in battle, there are no memorials, in any town in Ireland, honouring the Irish dead to my knowledge, except for the controversial Irish National War Memorial Gardens in Dublin. This memorial commemorates Irishmen who died fighting in the armies of Australian, Canadian, New Zealand, South African, United Kingdom and the United States.
It's a well known joke throughout the armed forces of the world "Irishmen don't care who they fight as long as they fight."
The Duke of Wellington (himself an Irishman) on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo, when asked what he thought of his Irish regiments, replied, "I don't know what effect these men will have on the enemy, but by God, they terrify me."
Strange as it may seem but there is still an Irish Regiment in the South African army. Although it's unlikely that there are any Irishmen or of Irish descent serving in its ranks. I imagine it would now be mainly African manned and wonder if they still wear the shamrock and harp insignia and if the regimental commander still marches on to parade with a shillelagh. (spelling?)
Ireland was neutral during the Second World as it has been in all wars since then. That of course did not stop young Irishmen joining the armies who were fighting. I doubt there has been any major conflict since the Great War where Irishmen did not die. The number of gallantry honours they won are proof of their amazing courage.
In the opening days of the Great War, the Germans swiftly advanced through neutral Belgium and were threatening Paris. Redmond, the leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party, who with the support of the Catholic Church in Ireland under the slogan "save Catholic Belgium", called upon the Irish Volunteers to enlist in existing Irish regiments of the British army, in support of the Allied war effort.
The sad thing is that whilst there are a number of War Memorials in Belgium and France, honouring those Irishmen who fell in battle, there are no memorials, in any town in Ireland, honouring the Irish dead to my knowledge, except for the controversial Irish National War Memorial Gardens in Dublin. This memorial commemorates Irishmen who died fighting in the armies of Australian, Canadian, New Zealand, South African, United Kingdom and the United States.
It's a well known joke throughout the armed forces of the world "Irishmen don't care who they fight as long as they fight."
The Duke of Wellington (himself an Irishman) on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo, when asked what he thought of his Irish regiments, replied, "I don't know what effect these men will have on the enemy, but by God, they terrify me."
Strange as it may seem but there is still an Irish Regiment in the South African army. Although it's unlikely that there are any Irishmen or of Irish descent serving in its ranks. I imagine it would now be mainly African manned and wonder if they still wear the shamrock and harp insignia and if the regimental commander still marches on to parade with a shillelagh. (spelling?)
Monday, February 21, 2011
An African American's View On Africa
Warning!
Not suitable viewing by the politically correct and non-recovered liberals.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
To see and hear an African American's views on Africa, Africans and Nelson Mandela, click on the following link.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17m8OnHC7dQ&feature=player_embedded
The latest on multiculturalism
European leaders have made the following statements in recent months.
Angela Merkel German Chancellor says “Multiculturalism has totally failed.”
David Cameron British Prime Minister says “State multiculturalism has had disastrous results.”
Nicolas Sarkozy French President stated when asked if multiculturalism was a failure in France replied “My answer is clearly yes, it is a failure.”
Jose Maria Aznar Ex-Prime Minister of Spain has declared multiculturalism a failure in his country.
Silvio Berlusconi Italian Prime Minister does not have the time to make a remark. Nicole Minetti refused to comment unless she was paid more money.
Am I missing something?
Angela Merkel German Chancellor says “Multiculturalism has totally failed.”
David Cameron British Prime Minister says “State multiculturalism has had disastrous results.”
Nicolas Sarkozy French President stated when asked if multiculturalism was a failure in France replied “My answer is clearly yes, it is a failure.”
Jose Maria Aznar Ex-Prime Minister of Spain has declared multiculturalism a failure in his country.
Silvio Berlusconi Italian Prime Minister does not have the time to make a remark. Nicole Minetti refused to comment unless she was paid more money.
Am I missing something?
African Humour
I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the following stories which are purported to originate from reputable and serious newspapers but they are probably untrue. Anyhow, they have a humourous siside'
1 From The Cape Times (Cape Town):
"I have promised to keep his identity confidential," said a spokeswoman for the Sandton Sun Hotel, Johannesburg, "but I can confirm that he is no longer in our employment. We asked him to clean the lifts and he spent four days on the job. When I asked him why, he replied: "Well, there are forty of them, two on each floor, and sometimes some of them aren't there". Eventually, we realised that he thought each floor had a different lift, and he'd cleaned the same two, twenty times. We had to let him go. It seemed best all round".
It is understand he has now immigrated to Ireland and may be working at the Shelbourne Hotel Dublin.
2 From The Star (Johannesburg):
"The situation is absolutely under control," the Swazi Transport Minister told Parliament in Mbabane yesterday. "Our nation's merchant navy is perfectly safe. We just don't know where it is, that's all." Replying to an MP's question, the Minister admitted that the landlocked country had completely lost track of its only ship, the Swazimar: "We believe it is in a sea somewhere. At one time, we sent a team of men to look for it, but there was a problem with drink and they failed to find it, and so, technically, yes, we've lost it a bit. But I categorically reject all suggestions of incompetence on the part of this government. The Swazimar is a big ship painted in the sort of nice bright colours you can see at night. Mark my words, it will turn up. The right honourable gentleman opposite is a very naughty man, and he will laugh on the other side of his face when my ship comes in."
It is understood that the Minister is now employed as a consultant to the Irish banking industry.
3 From a Zimbabwean newspaper:
While transporting mental patients from Harare to Bulawayo, the bus driver stopped at a roadside shebeen* (beerhall) for a few beers. When he got back to his vehicle, he found it empty, with the 20 patients nowhere to be seen. Realizing the trouble he was in if the truth were uncovered, he halted his bus at the next bus stop and offered lifts to those in the queue. Letting 20 people aboard, he then shut the doors and drove straight to the Bulawayo mental hospital, where he hastily handed over his 'charges', warning the nurses that they were particularly excitable. Staff removed the furious passengers; it was three days later that suspicions were roused by the consistency of stories from the 20. As for the real patients: nothing more has been heard of them and they have apparently blended comfortably back into Zimbabwean society.
100% for quick thinking on this one, so it is suggested that should he apply for asylum in Ireland that it be granted. He's halfway there already, as he at least knows what a shebeen is.
*Many people wonder where the term shebeen originates from.
1 From The Cape Times (Cape Town):
"I have promised to keep his identity confidential," said a spokeswoman for the Sandton Sun Hotel, Johannesburg, "but I can confirm that he is no longer in our employment. We asked him to clean the lifts and he spent four days on the job. When I asked him why, he replied: "Well, there are forty of them, two on each floor, and sometimes some of them aren't there". Eventually, we realised that he thought each floor had a different lift, and he'd cleaned the same two, twenty times. We had to let him go. It seemed best all round".
It is understand he has now immigrated to Ireland and may be working at the Shelbourne Hotel Dublin.
2 From The Star (Johannesburg):
"The situation is absolutely under control," the Swazi Transport Minister told Parliament in Mbabane yesterday. "Our nation's merchant navy is perfectly safe. We just don't know where it is, that's all." Replying to an MP's question, the Minister admitted that the landlocked country had completely lost track of its only ship, the Swazimar: "We believe it is in a sea somewhere. At one time, we sent a team of men to look for it, but there was a problem with drink and they failed to find it, and so, technically, yes, we've lost it a bit. But I categorically reject all suggestions of incompetence on the part of this government. The Swazimar is a big ship painted in the sort of nice bright colours you can see at night. Mark my words, it will turn up. The right honourable gentleman opposite is a very naughty man, and he will laugh on the other side of his face when my ship comes in."
It is understood that the Minister is now employed as a consultant to the Irish banking industry.
3 From a Zimbabwean newspaper:
While transporting mental patients from Harare to Bulawayo, the bus driver stopped at a roadside shebeen* (beerhall) for a few beers. When he got back to his vehicle, he found it empty, with the 20 patients nowhere to be seen. Realizing the trouble he was in if the truth were uncovered, he halted his bus at the next bus stop and offered lifts to those in the queue. Letting 20 people aboard, he then shut the doors and drove straight to the Bulawayo mental hospital, where he hastily handed over his 'charges', warning the nurses that they were particularly excitable. Staff removed the furious passengers; it was three days later that suspicions were roused by the consistency of stories from the 20. As for the real patients: nothing more has been heard of them and they have apparently blended comfortably back into Zimbabwean society.
100% for quick thinking on this one, so it is suggested that should he apply for asylum in Ireland that it be granted. He's halfway there already, as he at least knows what a shebeen is.
*Many people wonder where the term shebeen originates from.
Little Johnny Strikes Again
The teacher asked the class to use the word "fascinate" in a sentence.
Molly put up her hand and said, "My family went to my granddad's farm, and we all saw his pet sheep. It was fascinating."
The teacher said, "That was good, but I wanted you to use the word fascinate, not fascinating."
Sally raised her hand. She said, "My family went to see Rock City , and I was fascinated."
The teacher said, "Well, that was good Sally, but I wanted you to use the word 'fascinate."
Little Johnny raised his hand.
The teacher hesitated because she had been burned by Little Johnny before.
She finally decided there was no way he could damage the word "fascinate," so she called on him for his offering..
Johnny said, "My aunt Gina has a sweater with ten buttons, but her tits are so big she can only fasten eight."
The teacher sat down and cried.
Molly put up her hand and said, "My family went to my granddad's farm, and we all saw his pet sheep. It was fascinating."
The teacher said, "That was good, but I wanted you to use the word fascinate, not fascinating."
Sally raised her hand. She said, "My family went to see Rock City , and I was fascinated."
The teacher said, "Well, that was good Sally, but I wanted you to use the word 'fascinate."
Little Johnny raised his hand.
The teacher hesitated because she had been burned by Little Johnny before.
She finally decided there was no way he could damage the word "fascinate," so she called on him for his offering..
Johnny said, "My aunt Gina has a sweater with ten buttons, but her tits are so big she can only fasten eight."
The teacher sat down and cried.
Medical distinction between Guts and Balls
There is a medical distinction between Guts and Balls. We've all heard about people having Guts or Balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, here are the definitions:
GUTS - Is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the Guts to ask: "Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"
BALLS - Is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the Balls to say: 'You're next, Chubby.'
I hope this clears up any confusion on the definitions.
Medically speaking, there is no difference in the outcome. Both result in death.
GUTS - Is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being met by your wife with a broom, and having the Guts to ask: "Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?"
BALLS - Is coming home late after a night out with the guys, smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the butt and having the Balls to say: 'You're next, Chubby.'
I hope this clears up any confusion on the definitions.
Medically speaking, there is no difference in the outcome. Both result in death.
Beware of Genies
An Aussie truckie walks into an outback cafe with a full-grown emu behind him.
The waitress asks them for their orders.
The truckie says, 'A hamburger, chips and a coke,' and turns to the emu, 'What's yours?' 'Sounds great, I'll have the same,' says the emu.
A short time later the waitress returns with the order 'That will be $9.40 please,' and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change and pays.
This becomes routine until the two enter again. 'The usual?' asks the waitress.
'No, it's Friday night, so I'll have a steak, baked potato and a salad,' says the man. 'Same for me,' says the emu.
Shortly the waitress brings the order and says, 'That will be $32.62.'
Once again the man pulls the exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.
The waitress cannot hold back her curiosity any longer. 'Excuse me mate, how do you manage to always pull the exact change from your pocket every time?'
'Well, love' says the truckie, 'a few years ago, I was cleaning out the back shed, and found an old lamp. When I cleaned it, a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes.
My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there.'
'That's brilliant!' says the waitress. 'Most people would ask for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want, for as long as you live!'
'That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there.' says the man..
Still curious the waitress asks, 'What's with the bloody emu?'
The waitress asks them for their orders.
The truckie says, 'A hamburger, chips and a coke,' and turns to the emu, 'What's yours?' 'Sounds great, I'll have the same,' says the emu.
A short time later the waitress returns with the order 'That will be $9.40 please,' and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the exact change and pays.
The next day, the man and the emu come again and he says, 'A hamburger, chips and a coke.' The emu says, ' Sounds great, I'll have the same.'
Again the truckie reaches into his pocket and pays with exact change.This becomes routine until the two enter again. 'The usual?' asks the waitress.
'No, it's Friday night, so I'll have a steak, baked potato and a salad,' says the man. 'Same for me,' says the emu.
Shortly the waitress brings the order and says, 'That will be $32.62.'
Once again the man pulls the exact change out of his pocket and places it on the table.
The waitress cannot hold back her curiosity any longer. 'Excuse me mate, how do you manage to always pull the exact change from your pocket every time?'
'Well, love' says the truckie, 'a few years ago, I was cleaning out the back shed, and found an old lamp. When I cleaned it, a Genie appeared and offered me two wishes.
My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket and the right amount of money would always be there.'
'That's brilliant!' says the waitress. 'Most people would ask for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want, for as long as you live!'
'That's right. Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there.' says the man..
Still curious the waitress asks, 'What's with the bloody emu?'
The truckie pauses, sighs, and answers, 'My second wish was for a tall bird with a big arse and long legs, who agrees with everything I say.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Ireland falls from 5 to 17 place in the world literacy standings
Ireland has ben renowned for having a good education system and intelligent pupils. However the latest PISA (Programme for International Student Assessment) literacy ranking shows that Ireland’s position has declined from 5th to 17th place. This was the greatest falll suffered any country. I understand that the fall occured between 2006 and 2009.
Can anyone enlighten me why there has been such a dramatic fall in standards?
Can anyone enlighten me why there has been such a dramatic fall in standards?
Please tell me it's not true
Then there was the case of a Nigerian woman fired for robbing from a store in Dublin where she worked. The case ended up in court. Not with her being charged…. silly! No, she brought a claim of wrongful dismissal against the store on the basis that it was the Nigerian ‘culture’ to, well, rob from where you worked. Here was a rare instance of a Nigerian telling the truth. The ‘learned’ judge was impressed. He ordered her to be reinstated to her job, and paid I think it was €30,000 in compensation for ‘humiliation and distress’.
Taken from the Irish Savant Blog.
Old Africa hands are well aware that Nigerians are natural thieves and not much different from other Africans such as Zambians and Zimbabweans (personal experience in those countries bear this out). But to think that this can be used as an excuse in an Irish courtroom beggers belief. So will some kind hearted person please tell me that the story is untrue.
Taken from the Irish Savant Blog.
Old Africa hands are well aware that Nigerians are natural thieves and not much different from other Africans such as Zambians and Zimbabweans (personal experience in those countries bear this out). But to think that this can be used as an excuse in an Irish courtroom beggers belief. So will some kind hearted person please tell me that the story is untrue.
The latest on multiculturalism
European leaders have made the following statements in recent months.
- Angela Merkel German Chancellor says “Multiculturalism has totally failed.”
- David Cameron British Prime Minister says “State multiculturalism has had disastrous results.”
- Nicolas Sarkozy French President stated when asked if multiculturalism was a failure in France replied “My answer is clearly yes, it is a failure.”
- Jose Maria Aznar Ex-Prime Minister of Spain has declared multiculturalism a failure in his country.
- Silvio Berlusconi Italian Prime Minister does not have the time to make a remark. Nicole Minetti refused to comment unless she was paid more money.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Fascism by another name
Frederick Forsyth, a top selling British author, who whilst researching a book, spent many hours with an elderly rabbi who had fought fascism all his life. Forsyth considered the rabbi one of the wisest men he had ever met and who had the rare gift of original thought. The rabbi was adamant fascism was a deeply imbued standard of behaviour and insisted there were four pillars to this behaviour.
Let it not be forgotten that fascism is the offspring of socialism and nothing to do with conservatism. The term Nazi derives from the first two syllables of Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (National Socialist German Workers' Party).
- One was a total and blind commitment to the current political and moral orthodoxy.
- The second was the angry repudiation of any possibility of variant thought. He concluded this blinkered bigotry was seldom the standard of the truly evil (these were right at the very top) but of the deeply stupid.
- At number three he listed a relentless no-mercy persecution of those refusing or unable to conform to the imposed orthodoxy often stemming from the anonymous denunciation and presaged by the intimidating phrase: “We have received a complaint that you…”
- The final criterion of fascist behaviour is the demand for total control of thought, speech, writing – even body language and gesture.
Let it not be forgotten that fascism is the offspring of socialism and nothing to do with conservatism. The term Nazi derives from the first two syllables of Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei (National Socialist German Workers' Party).
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Two Nations
The echoes are uncanny. In Britain first and then Ireland, two finance ministers followed upon two "successful" prime ministers, both of whom retired as millionaires, and each new prime minister then leads his party to political disaster.
Both countries have run up intolerable debts in the past 15 years, both countries have a huge and unmanageable public service, and both countries have an underclass equally averse to self-advancement and sobriety. The strange Hiberno-British dance through time continues, though it obeys no known rules of science or of history.
And whereas Irish people are good at remembering history -- usually inaccurately, and involving evictions, the Famine and the Black and Tans -- English people have almost no historical memory at all. I suspect it is precisely because of the utter awfulness of their history that the English lost the facility to remember.
The Norman conquest of England was one of the most terrible events in European history. Not merely was the entire ruling class of England either butchered or exiled, the entire apparatus of the state and church and commerce was handed over to a French-speaking caste of conquerors.
The new aristocracy, the parliament, lawyers and the church were all French-speaking. All laws were in French for 300 years. The emerging urban crafts of meat-provider, arrow-maker, builder and beard-trimmer spoke French: hence the trades and the surnames, Butcher, Fletcher, Mason and Barber.
The Anglo-Saxons were slaves in their own country, compelled by ferocious law to build the great cathedrals that are now the glory of England. To be sure, this racial exclusion wasn't of the same duration as the Irish penal laws, which lasted about a century. No indeed: the exclusion of the native Anglo-Saxons from real power lasted over three centuries, during which the collective punishment for the murder of a French-speaker anywhere in England, if the culprit was not found, was the forfeiture to the crown of all Anglo-Saxon owned farms in the area.
The unconscious but long-term influence of these times is visible in the English hatred of the foreigner and of the aristocracy, which expressed itself in the Reformation, and in the English Civil War. This racial/class division in English life was behind the emergence of the two main parties: the Whigs, of Norman extraction, and the Tories, the remnants of the Anglo-Saxon squires. This division was, in time, partly eroded by the social catastrophe of the Industrial Revolution, which also rendered the English working classes physically unfit for service as soldiers. Fortunately for England, there was a neighbouring island full of well-fed strapping young men who could be recruited into its imperial armies.
But the Famine sets Ireland apart, surely? Certainly it does in its psychological impact, but not in its overall death-toll. The life-expectancy of a child who survived birth in the slums of English cities in the 1840s was around 16. How many people perished prematurely through malnutrition and disease in England between 1815 and 1865? Maybe as many as died in the Irish Famine.
The lesson the English apparently learnt from their terrible history was to forget everything; and the lesson the Irish learnt was to cling on to the useful bits.
Two peoples, two islands, two terrible histories, and two completely different psychological refuges. The outcome today? Apparently, pretty much the same. All of which belongs to the "well, f**k me" school of historical theory.
Condensed from Kevin Myers column in the Irish Independent.
Both countries have run up intolerable debts in the past 15 years, both countries have a huge and unmanageable public service, and both countries have an underclass equally averse to self-advancement and sobriety. The strange Hiberno-British dance through time continues, though it obeys no known rules of science or of history.
And whereas Irish people are good at remembering history -- usually inaccurately, and involving evictions, the Famine and the Black and Tans -- English people have almost no historical memory at all. I suspect it is precisely because of the utter awfulness of their history that the English lost the facility to remember.
The Norman conquest of England was one of the most terrible events in European history. Not merely was the entire ruling class of England either butchered or exiled, the entire apparatus of the state and church and commerce was handed over to a French-speaking caste of conquerors.
The new aristocracy, the parliament, lawyers and the church were all French-speaking. All laws were in French for 300 years. The emerging urban crafts of meat-provider, arrow-maker, builder and beard-trimmer spoke French: hence the trades and the surnames, Butcher, Fletcher, Mason and Barber.
The Anglo-Saxons were slaves in their own country, compelled by ferocious law to build the great cathedrals that are now the glory of England. To be sure, this racial exclusion wasn't of the same duration as the Irish penal laws, which lasted about a century. No indeed: the exclusion of the native Anglo-Saxons from real power lasted over three centuries, during which the collective punishment for the murder of a French-speaker anywhere in England, if the culprit was not found, was the forfeiture to the crown of all Anglo-Saxon owned farms in the area.
The unconscious but long-term influence of these times is visible in the English hatred of the foreigner and of the aristocracy, which expressed itself in the Reformation, and in the English Civil War. This racial/class division in English life was behind the emergence of the two main parties: the Whigs, of Norman extraction, and the Tories, the remnants of the Anglo-Saxon squires. This division was, in time, partly eroded by the social catastrophe of the Industrial Revolution, which also rendered the English working classes physically unfit for service as soldiers. Fortunately for England, there was a neighbouring island full of well-fed strapping young men who could be recruited into its imperial armies.
But the Famine sets Ireland apart, surely? Certainly it does in its psychological impact, but not in its overall death-toll. The life-expectancy of a child who survived birth in the slums of English cities in the 1840s was around 16. How many people perished prematurely through malnutrition and disease in England between 1815 and 1865? Maybe as many as died in the Irish Famine.
The lesson the English apparently learnt from their terrible history was to forget everything; and the lesson the Irish learnt was to cling on to the useful bits.
Two peoples, two islands, two terrible histories, and two completely different psychological refuges. The outcome today? Apparently, pretty much the same. All of which belongs to the "well, f**k me" school of historical theory.
Condensed from Kevin Myers column in the Irish Independent.
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