It's not often that the press report simple mindless vandalism, but this particular case has recently made the headlines.
My native village of Lingfield in Surrey is very close to both the villages of Godstone and Oxted; two venues that are currently suffering from regular bouts of serious hooliganism from marauding gangs (above). They smash church, house, and car windows, kill animals, and have even blinded Swans on Godstone village pond; a pond I know well. They generally cause mayhem by firing catapults whilst others are asleep.
It is difficult to understand why some people commit blatant vandalism and cruelty. It has been alleged that the perpetrators are from an ex-traveler community, but this is no excuse to behave badly. Many people have financial or social problems but they don't go around killing pets or smashing windows.
Some people are simply prone to vandalism, it seems to be in their blood. I imagine it's a question of 'they have what I don't, so I'll smash it'; not unlike keying expensive cars.
Some while back I wrote about the possibility of reintroducing some form of National Service, to give such people a purpose in life. I now see that the idea is becoming spoken about across the board, and it does look as if it will be introduced some time in the not too distant future.
Maybe swapping their catapults for more modern weaponry on a shooting range will help heal their inherent woes.
I do find it very odd that the good folk of Godstone are able to photograph these people, yet PC Plod fails to arrest them. What more do they need?
What do we want?
Free money!
When do we want it?
NOW!
Of course at the moment there are pro-Hamas demos, train drivers demos, pro-soup and anti-paintings demos, anarchy demo's, and good old lets lie down in the road demos.
What do we want?
Anarchy!
When do we want it?
When we can no longer vote for it!
I've only attended one demo in my life and that was when I was a student; I can't even remember what we were demonstrating about. We all went up to town by coach, then when we arrived close to Westminster Abbey, a Communist Party member was handing out irrelevant political placards to everybody as they left the bus. Some fellow students took hold of them without even looking; I told the Commie to get lost. We decided at once that the demonstration had been hijacked, so we went to The Tate instead.
What do we want?
Can't remember!
When do we want it?
Gawd only knows!
It's Sunday, and I'm heading off up into the loft.
I need to buff-up and sharpen my metre-long sabre, polish the buttons on my be-meddled Cavalry Officer's tunic, and fill my campaign trunk with a few Western essentials. I'm off to Tehran to have a word with Ali Khamemei.
I shall arrange an interview, and give him a jolly good talking-to. The man is a menace, and for someone who claims to be 'religious', he is a disgrace. I may even quote the Koran to him, if I can find any passages that talk of Islam being peaceful.
When I have him by himself, I shall grab one of his ears and twist it until he promises not to be so bellicose. If he squeals I'll grab his beard, and threaten to cut it off with my sabre. That should calm him and get him to abide by my demands.
Once I've dealt with Ali, I shall head for Moscow. I shall invite Putin to Tea somewhere nice; and show him how people behave in the democratic West. I have a feeling that after a scone or two, thickly spread with Raspberry jam and Devon clotted cream, and a cup of Lapsang, he will apologise for his recent actions, and promise to make repairs. I shall of course give him a time-table, and if all is not repaired before a certain date; I SHALL RETURN, and I will not be responsible for my actions..
Hopefully I'll be home again before nightfall, and shall reward myself with a slice of Pork Pie, and a glass of Harvey's rejuvenating Sussex ale, before heading off to Bedfordshire!
A job well done.
p.s. The above photo shows Ali enjoying 'blissful ecstasy' with his 72 virgins; but here on earth rather than waiting to ascend to heaven.
Frankly, there's never a lot of interest in the Sunday papers, but I buy one anyway.
In this last weekend's 'Sunday Times' there was one article that probably shocked everyone who read it.
Tucked away at the bottom of Page 3 was an article entitled 'Forty and Filthy Rich'. An exposé of who are buying London's multi-£Million properties.
Apparently 54 homes were sold last year at prices over £15 Million. The biggest purchaser, who paid £138 Million for a house in Mayfair, was just 42 years old.
There's a lot of money out there and a lot of it is in the hands of young entrepreneurs in their early 40's. Making the average age of 'Mansion-buyers' drop by 12 years in one decade.
How many of these people get hold of their huge wealth is often questionable. Possibly not illegally as such, but often through nepotism or political favours.
Their wealth and property portfolios don't bother me at all, I have never been jealous of other people's wealth, and the distribution of wealth is always a good thing, but so many of these spectacular homes are left empty until such time as no-one is any longer asking questions. It would be nicer to see them lived-in.
In all honesty I suppose I would quite liked to have been hugely wealthy in my 40's, but I chose a different, more relaxing, route.
It's an over-used idiom that 'The lunatics are now running the asylum', but the whole of the UK seems, at times, to follow the notion precisely.
Our wonderful 'Ministry of Justice' has recently decided that criminals who feel that they have been 'deprived' in some way or other, should be given lesser sentences. They should be treated kindly; wrapped in comfy cotton-wool and sent home to Mummy!
It is suggested that criminals who have lower educational attainment, lived in so-called poverty, and/or have experienced discrimination, should have these factors considered in mitigation.
In fact they have drawn-up a list of a dozen circumstances in which Barry Burglar, or Stanley Stabber should be given more lenient punishment. These include having family members who are also criminals, excessive use of drugs or alcohol, and negative influence from peers.
So, to round-up the Ministry of Justice's recommendations, if an aspiring criminal makes a nuisance of himself at school, spends all his dole money on drugs, alcohol, and tattoos, and chooses fellow criminals as his mates, then he can do whatever he likes and probably only get a slap on the wrist.
Well, it's an interesting idea. Our prisons will then only house the very worst mass-murderers, and all others will be allowed home to roam the streets with impunity.
Frankly, if the Ministry of Justice think this is a good idea, then they must be bloody nuts. We all want criminals OFF the streets and locked away, and the only way to achieve this is to build more prisons, and increase sentences. NOT the opposite.
Conclusion: Should you find yourself in the dock (in the UK), don't forget to tell the judge that you had a horrible childhood, you can't read or write, and you are on fentanyl. You should be home in no time!
This is an insult not only to the victims of crime, but also to all those from 'deprived' backgrounds who have NOT turned to crime, but have worked hard all their lives to achieve their goals.
Who are these bloody people at the Ministry of Justice? How did they get their jobs? How much are they being paid to utter such nonsense? I think we should be told.
The thorny old subject of gender-swapping is rarely out of the headlines these days, and on 'April Fool's Day' Scotland introduced a law that demonstrates how we now live in an era where nomenclature supersedes criminality, and where the thoughts and feelings of the offender are prioritised above those of female victims.
The trans-gender militants were horrified, some while back, to hear PM Rishi Sunak tell the 'heinous lie' that women don't have penises, and they went berserk; demanding his resignation and his instant exile to St Helena (well almost). Had he made this statement on April 2nd in Scotland he would have been hanged, drawn, and quartered.
OF COURSE women don't have penises; that's what makes them women. A man who wishes to 'transition', can have his men's bits cut off, and he can have other bits added-on, but that still doesn't make him into a biological woman; it makes him a 'trans-woman' at most.
I'm a 'live and let live' person. I have no qualms whatsoever if a man wishes to live as a woman, or if a woman wishes to live as a man, but lets not have them claiming to have physically changed sex; that simply DOES NOT HAPPEN. If I wasn't liberal thinking, I wouldn't be living in Brighton.
I think the militant trans-gender folk do a great dis-service to their own cause. They should be more generous and welcoming in their attitude, and leave people to live however they wish. And all this pronoun nonsense of 'they' and 'them' really gets on people's nerves. Sunak knows what's what, and dared say so.
I do wish they'd all settle down and accept the TRUTH of the matter. Too many people who've told the obvious truth have been hounded, 'cancelled', and persecuted. It's about time all this silliness stopped.
In case you didn't know, the person in the photo (above) is April Ashley. A trans-woman who became a cause celebre in the early 1960's as a high-profile example of 'transition'. She was one of the first people to be operated on in Morocco by pioneer surgeon Dr Georges Burou. She (not they) died in London in 2021 at the age of 86.
Ashley was a one-time very good friend of Dali's muse, Amanda Lear, who has always refused to say if she was once male...... Frankly, if no-one knows, no-one cares!
