Thursday, 10 August 2017
"Past time for sensible MPs in all parties to admit Brexit is a catastrophe, come together in a new party if need be, and reverse it."
"Let's be honest, if we had an effective electoral law leading Brexiteers would now be in jail."
"[The main parities are] paralysed and they are terrified of being called saboteurs, wreckers and people defying the will of the people."
(As reported here.)
These very apt comments on our present political scene come not from an enthusiastic and bewildered Europhile such as myself, but from the very heart of the Brexit team. Their author, a James Chapman, is a former political editor of the Daily Mail, (gasp); special advisor to George Osborne, (gasp gasp); and has spent a whole year as chief of staff for the Brexit Secretary David Davis in the clumsily-named Department for Exiting the European Union (it beggars belief).
It would be kind to suppose that Mr Chapman has now seen the light, but rather, I suspect, he has decided to "come clean." This is clear evidence that the Brexiteers know all along that Brexit will not be the raging economic success they proclaim, and that they achieved their narrow lead in the referendum by peddling a catalogue of gross exaggerations if not downright lies (of which the extra £350m a week for the NHS was the most blatant and influential). Their real motive remains open to speculation.
The question is, when will "sensible MPs" (and I like to think most are sensible) recognise that in their supine pretence that they are implementing the "will of the people" they are doing a grave disservice to the people they are supposed to represent, put their judgement before their job-security, and put a stop to this folly before any more time is wasted?
Then they can concentrate on our real problems: housing, health service, social care, climate change, a prison service which shames a country which claims to be civilised, the north-south divide. . . All of these, and more, are being put on the back burner as the present self-harming nonsense fills the agenda..
Monday, 7 August 2017
Yesterday I went to our multi-plex cinema to see this well-reviewed film.
Although I've been several times before I still haven't quite got the hang of modern cinema going - quite different from the good old days of "going to the pictures." The booking counter has now started designating seats and I spent quite a lot of time in the semi-darkness looking for 12A. Failing to find it I sat where I could, and eventually realised that 12A was not the number of my seat but the classification of the film.
Happily no-one claimed the seat I was in but this is another case of dispensing with useful employees - usherettes with shaded torches - in order to cut costs and boost profits whilst making life harder for the customers.
In a further complication the cinema now has reclining seats with a leg-rest attachment which enables you to stretch out. A tried every possible location for the lever to work it with. A girl in a neighbouring set kindly pointed out the operating button.
Most of the soundtrack was much too loud - we are approaching the "feelies" depicted in Huxley's "Brave New World" - but even so much of the dialogue was hard to catch.
The film is, I take it, an accurate description of the horrors of war. Deaths are not sanitised, and not every "warrior" is a selfless hero.
I cannot imagine anyone seeing this film wanting to leave the European Union.
Sadly, I suspect the more buccaneering Brexiteers will draw the opposite conclusion.
Wednesday, 2 August 2017
The observances for the centenary of the start of the Battle of Passchendaele have brought some of the Commonwealth War Grave Cemeteries on to our television screens.
The first one I visited was in Papua New Guinea in the 1970s, and in the last few years, especially while helping to write accounts of the Old Boys of the school I attended who were killed in the First World War, have visited several in Northern France and Belgium.
I count these visits as among the most moving and humbling experiences of my life: the astonishing numbers, the youth of so many who died, the immaculate care and attention given to each cemetery and each grave. And in addition to these the hundreds, maybe thousands, of square meters of walls with the names of the missing whose bodies were never found.
I have no idea how the Commonwealth War Graves Commission is organised, and the websites aren't very informative on this aspect. But I suspect its directors, if it has any, are not on massive salaries, with out-of this-world bonuses just for doing what's expected of them, it is not encumbered with fancily-phrased mission statements, targets, OFSTED-style inspections or any other of the management-speak paraphernalia which today is deemed necessary to motivate even the humblest of organisations.
And yet it does a near-prefect job. No one would dare suggest privatising it: or would they?