Thursday, 3 July 2025

How Donny's 'big, beautiful bill' could help finance his very own 'secret police'. Paranoia? Let's hope so, but perhaps Ernst Röhm and his SA pals might have been a little more paranoid when they took off for a relaxing mid-summer weekend break in Bavaria 91 years ago . . .

Here’s a scenario which might well be filed under ‘conspiracy theory’ by all sane and decent people, and probably should be, but is actually more than a little plausible given what has occurred since January 20 this year (2025).

Donny’s bill going through the US Congress at present, and as I write it has not yet passed, but with come amendments I’m sure will, includes giving ICE another $45 billion to expand its operations and hire another 10,000 agents by 2029.

So that got me thinking . . .

ICE already has many agents who go around in masks and never identify themselves. By the beginning of November 2026 - over the next 17 months - their number will be swelled significantly and their activities widened.

The simple ICE protocol is to grab folk from the street – and they are legally allowed to do exactly that with no immediate explanation if they claim the people they are grabbing are ‘suspected illegal aliens’. There is no fuss, no bother and no comeback, except for the poor saps thus grabbed.

There are already many documented cases where ICE agents have grabbed someone who was not an ‘illegal alien’ and who they subsequently released. Others, though, were initially flown out of the country and there was no recourse to the courts as should be the case: they were out of the country in just a few short hours with very few questions asked (‘You look suspiciously dusky, pal, so come with us!’)

The ICE agents were and are legally covered at all times: they simply have to swear, on oath if need be, that at the time they grabbed someone, they sincerely believed the men, women and children they were arresting and

 detaining were ‘illegal aliens’. That’s it, and pretty much a carte blanche to do what the hell they like.

Those who do not believe ICE and think that claim is just a convenient fig-leaf – there is no way on God’s earth that they can prove that ‘I sincerely believed the dude as an illegal alien and I was simply doing my duty’ is a lot of hooey. They are stymied.

Store that particular dilemma in the file which also contains many, many instances in which a witness up before a Congressional committee has pleaded ‘sorry, I do not recall saying that’. Go on, legal superman, prove said witness is lying and that they do recall it. Go on, score a first. Then be off and drown your defeat and sorrows with a stiff drink.

That all brings me to this: we might like to consider a possible tactic by Donny on November 3, 2026, as voters gather to elect a new representative, a new senator or a new state governor, one in which ICE agents attend a polling stations and ‘arrest’ those they ‘suspect’ of being illegal aliens. And best do it while they are waiting to vote.

This might well take place mainly in purple states and red states where the GOP believes it is in danger to losing to Democratic candidates, on the assumption that all those lining up to vote who look vaguely ‘foreign’ and are thus legally ‘detainable’ in some way are likely to vote Democrat.

All the ICE agents need to do is simple: prevent them from voting by detaining them until voting has closed, then release them with a ‘sorry, but we had good grounds to believe . . .’

If ICE agents are subsequently taken to task about their actions – though that is not very likely it has to be said – they can fall back on their useful standby that ‘I was acting in good faith and simply doing my job because I sincerely did believe I was detaining someone I suspected of being an illegal alien’ with the subtext ‘so fuck off you libtard’.

This line can be passed up the chain of command: ‘All we did was to instruct our agents to attend gatherings where we suspect illegal aliens might congregate. That was their sworn duty and that is all they did.’

Game, set, match and any number of potential Democratic supporters are prevented from voting.

Donny, of course, has the ultimate Get Out Of Jail Card if – again it is possibly not very likely but . . . – the flak reaches the Oval Office: why, hasn’t SCOTUS ruled that a president cannot be accountable for any criminal acts he might have committed while acting as president? It certainly has, and that is luck Donny’s arse well and truly covered.

. . .

I am as a rule not interested in conspiracy theories and in the eternal debate of ‘Conspiracy or Cock-up’, I am a ‘Cock-up’ champion at every turn. But we should remind ourselves that what hitherto in recent history has been regarded as impossible has shown itself as often nothing of the kind.

Had anyone before January 6, 2021, suggested that an incumbent US president would resort to organising what to all intents and purposes was an insurrection when he summoned thousands of MAGA wackos to DC to prevent certification of the presidential election vote, he might well have been carted off by the men in white coats.

Had anyone suggested that an incumbent president agreed to take part in a suggested conspiracy to rig the presidential election in a US state, he, too, would have been locked up for her or his safety.

Whether or not you accept that Donny tried to rig the election in Georgia, remind yourself that three of his former attorneys – Kenneth Chesebro, Sidney Powell and Jenna Ellis – pleaded guilty to being a part of that conspiracy, so one did exist.

There is also overwhelming proof that Donny himself agreed to be a part of the conspiracy, although admittedly none could legally be produced in court, because Donny’s – successful – tactic was to delay as long as possible his own appearance in court in Georgia.

Oh, and consider this: if anyone suggested that a German vice-chancellor would organise the mass murder of 85 of his own supporters, they would be dismissed as being away with the fairies.

Those dismissing might, however, care to consult accounts of what happened at Bad Wiessee in Bavaria, Germany, between June 30 and. July 2, 1934, just over 91 years ago. Oh, and apart from those 85 who were murdered in the course of three days, another 700 odd Nazis and other politicians – including many on the right – were ‘liquidated’ in the subsequent weeks.

As one ostensible reason for eliminating the leadership of the SA (Sturmabteilung), led by Hitler’s former best buddy Ernst Röhm, an out-and-proud gay man (below with Hitler), was the ‘moral turpitude’ of
rampant homosexuality in the SA, any closeted MAGA men and women reading this might care take more care than they usually do.

You can be certain Donny knows all about it as he claims to have read Hitler’s Mein Kampf, although as the man is a lazy cunt who doesn’t much like reading, he probably listened to the audiobook or had Karoline Leavitt rustle up a four-minute powerpoint presentation.

All that is an extended way of saying ‘never say never’. The US is living in unprecedented times and no one can take anything for granted. For example, economic indications are that little by little the US economy is going tits up.

I really don’t think it occurred to Donny that the tariffs he imposed on imports would be paid for by American businesses big and small and that these were almost certain to pass on the extra costs to their customers.

Finally, as we are here dealing with conspiracy theories, let me mention one which is also plausible and which has been mentioned by more than one respectable economists who, one might assume, wants nothing to do with wacky conspiracy theories and who one might care to take a little more seriously than all the Q-Anon nutters with their pizza parlour paedophiles.

The claim is that Donny is not averse to crashing the US economy because he believes it would bring down the dollar and makes American goods cheaper abroad – and the US would then sell more – and also make imported goods more expensive so America would start buying fewer imported goods and start buying more domestic products.

On the face of it, that makes sense – except that, as was pointed out in Congress by representative Madeleine Dean when she was questioning secretary of commerce Howard Lutnick on June 5, 2025: why, she asked quite
reasonably, has Donny slapped a tariff on imporing bananas when American doesn’t grow bananas and imports them for that reason?
Lutnick (right), ever the sycophant, gave no answer and simply waffled about this and that.

Given that Donny gives every impression of having limited and short-term peasant cunning than involve himself in anything that might make more intellectual sense, suspecting him of ‘hoping to make the dollar cheaper by crashing the economy’ is not necessarily unlikely.

And I’ll repeat that not a few respected economists, men and women decidedly brighter than the lad from the Jamaica Estates, Queens, have suggested that might well be Donny’s intention.

There is an even more unlikely, though not at all implausible, corollary: that Donny intends to bring civil disobedience to America amid the growing economic upheaval and can use it as a justification for marshalling the national guard in various states to ‘preserve order’.

But, you might be asking, isn’t ordering in the national guard the prerogative of the state governor? Well, yes it is, and Donny knows that is the law. But he drove a coach and four through the law when he ordered the national guard into Los Angeles a few weeks ago and did so without consulting California’s governor Gavin Newsom.

In the event, there was a lot of liberal huffing and puffing and outrage and more huffing and puffing and no-holds-barred condemnation of Donny’s blatant act to undermine the constitution and then even more huffing and puffing and outrage, before the ‘news cycle’ moved on and sexier fresher outrage by Donny could be reported by the media.

But Donny got away with it.

Yes, there was court action and even for legal huffing and puffing, and Newsom is now suing Fox News for defamation for repeating Donny’s claim that he had telephoned Newsom to ask for his consent because the only call he had from Donny was three days before the national guard was (were? subs please check) and, anyway, there was no mention of the national guard at all, but . . .

. . . Donny got a way with it. I’ll repeat: Donny got a way with it.

. . .

Yer actual dyed-in-the-wool conspiracy theorist might then argue that sending in the national guard on that occasion was a dry run for what Donny hopes will be the real thing. And if – if – a ‘real thing’ occurs and civil  
disobedience does break in many states, patsy GOP governors will mobilise the national guard on Donny’s behalf and in blue states Donny might simply do what he did in Los Angeles a few weeks ago.

He will also be able to call upon his growing army of ICE agents, described by one commentator in all seriousness as ‘Trump’s secret police’ and who will be ready to do whatever dirty work is required of them.

Donny is adept at simply making up stuff, for example claiming against all possible evidence that his actions on deporting as many folk as he feels like deporting is legal under the ‘Alien Enemies Act’. That act is actually 227 years old and was passed while America was at war with the British. Ah, but Donny insists, America is again ‘at war’ because has been ‘invaded’ by Central and South Americans.

Complete bollocks and total shite? Yes, of course it is, but the US in 2025 is in such an odd pickle that no one, but no one knows how to deal with Donny’s lunacies. The opposition are almost like rabbits frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car that is about to run them over. In the meantime, Donny carries on rampaging like a manic toddler.

If any of this comes about, it will not be until autumn (‘fall’) by which time most economists think store prices in the US will have risen sharply, many farmers bereft of their labour force of mainly illegals will be going out of business, unemployment will be rising and folk might well be in the mood to make their feelings felt.

But will those feelings be opposed to Donny, or will many again be convinced it is all the result of ‘deep state’ machinations as ‘stealing the election in 2020’ was also engineered by the ‘deep state’?

I have been mixing with several of MAGA drones on Truthsocial who all argue that the ‘the election was stolen’ and that anyway democracy is not necessarily what it is cracked up to be. None is the brightest by any means and several make it very plain that they rather like possessing weapons of all kinds.

Unfortunately, irrationality is certainly not reserved for the right and there is any number of ‘anti-GOPs’ who might be up for a fight and who are equally enthralled by possessing and using lethal weaponry.

Pie-in-the-sky? Almost certainly, but it does sound horribly plausible.

Is Donny insane? I very much doubt it. Was Hitler insane, was Stalin insane, were or are Pol Pot, Saddam Hussein, the Iranian supreme leaders, Viktor Orban, Mussolini, Franco, Lukashenko insane? I very much doubt it.

What might be Donny’s objectives? That’s hard to say, but easy to guess: it has been long accepted that he is terminally narcissistic, has no conscience or scruples and demonstrates many sociopathic symptoms, has the attention span of a bored gnat, has to be the centre of attention and has a certain peasant cunning but is really not very bright.

My personal addition to that list of characteristics is that he suffers from a huge inferiority complex and that would explain a lot: the lying about his ‘achievements’, the apparent conviction that he is an expert in a great many areas and the vindictiveness to which he resorts when he feels he has been slighted.

One final point: what I have here outline is fantastical: America eventually engaging in another civil war? Is this ’ere himself sane?

Well, I like to think I am and as evidence I shall again concede that all suggested above is fantastical.

Another, for me, encouraging point is that when fantastical, unprecedented, impossible situations are predicted and subsequently come true, the predictor – here that would be me – is hailed as a true visionary, someone with an uncanny foresight etc.

When none of it comes true, the prediction is very much forgotten. Let’s hope we can all forget all that I have outlined above.




Wednesday, 21 May 2025

A little more inconsequential bollocks and a one-off in as far as it is semi-personal, about writing and disguising art (and I trust that won’t put you off)

A while ago, I started a second blog so that I could keep it private and where I could post stuff I would not want to make public, such as my wife’s - - - - - - - when she - - - - - during the - - - -, and my brother’s - - - - - - - -, my sister’s - - - - - -, that kind of thing.

It was to be ‘my space’ for letting my hair down – the quote marks indicate that ‘my space’ is a ‘new’ expression for us over 70 in that it evolved and became current in the past twenty years rather than last week, and that I’m not overly fond of it as in I’m not accustomed to it.

It wasn’t to be: somehow it was also listed on ‘my other blogs’ with this one, so it was not at all private. Worse the ‘stats’ indicated that he had been read several times.

Well, I couldn’t have that, could I! How would I be able to call my best friend a - - - - - who doesn’t - - - - - - - - - - - - on a good day when he’s sober in a month of Sundays knowing that he might well, solely by chance, come across my second blog and realise that I am not the nice, affable guy he first met in - - - - when we were both working on the - - - - - - but essentially just another two-faced - - - -?

You see my dilemma, but then in a way it got worse: I realised it was my fault that the third ‘private’ blog had been listed and thus accessible to all and not in the lightest bit ‘private’.

So I de-listed it, but, in a sense, that created another problem: as an ‘aspiring writer’ – yes, even at 75 – 76 on November 21 next, sadly – and like all other ‘aspiring writers’ I am more or less convinced that Fate will be kind and that my genius will, it time, be acknowledged and that legions or PhD students and ambitious academics and – well, why not! – biographers will be trawling for details of my life, my work and my thoughts. And where else to trawl, now that writing long letters is a thing of the past, than in a blog.

Yet by keeping my thoughts and all the other crap that sustains biographies private in their own separate blog would – will not only would their job be far harder, but I will be running the risk that would-be biographers finding the tasks of digging out ‘telling details’ so tiresome that they might conclude ‘what the fuck, think I’ll biographise someone else’.

To cut to the chase: I’ve decided to get a little cute and post the occasional ‘private’ blog here in public and in full view of the word, which, of course, will not make it in the slightest ‘private’.

NB I’ve long known that I sharpen my ideas best in conversation and by getting them down in words. Mere ‘thinking’ doesn’t cut it for me. Of those two, in conversation is best as whoever you are talking with will, as an outsider, spot flaws in your thinking which were not apparent to your.

As for writing down my thoughts, I worked as a newspaper sub for 37 years and I’m accustomed to re-writing in order to clarify what I’m writing. That doesn’t necessarily mean it is perfect, but in the reading and rephrasing I, myself, do get more clarity.

It is always quite surprising how badly phrased a passage might be when you read it the first time around. I don’t know where I first came across this observation, but it is most certainly true: ‘Confused writing betrays confused thought’. Remember that the next time you read something and ask yourself ‘what the fuck is he / she / it on about!’ It might not be your fault.

Sorting through my ideas, in this case by writing this blog entry it the purpose of this and previous and subsequent posts on my private blog. I hope all that isn’t too longwinded and that your are still with me.

. . .

Those who have dipped into this blog before might know that I am shameless enough to plug what I have previously written. Those books – a novel, five volumes of short stories, three volumes of verse and a non-fiction opus looking at why Ernest Hemingway, in my opinion really not a great writer at all got to be so bloody famous. But rather than clog up this bit of the post, I have listed them and links on Amazon at the end.

I conceived of what I am obliged to call ‘my second novel’ quite a few years ago and have been thinking about it ever since, but that thinking was not ‘what the story would be’. Ironically although there is ‘a story’ of sorts – and I have now written just under 45,000 words – telling that story is not at all the purpose of this new work.

As far as I can see ‘telling a story’ as in ‘things happening’ is useful in as far as it might serve to hold the reader’s interest while you – that is I in this case – gets on with attempting something else.

I shan’t say what the ‘something else’ I have in mind and will eventually be – or better am – attempting is because if I don’t pull it off, I shall look a little silly, not to say a tad big-headed. But it does relate to the notion, which I find attractive of ‘art that conceals art’. To sound a little more impressive, not to say pretentious, here is the original Latin – ars est celare artem.

I’ve been beavering away at it for a few months now and although progress has been slow in as far as I, like all other would-be writers, will pretty much do anything rather than sit down and fucking writer, though not that I find writing difficulty.

Frankly, I now regard what I am doing as a learning process and I am learning a little more about writing as I go along. And talking of ‘writing’, as far as I can see there are as many different kinds of ‘writing’ as there are writers. Then there’s the fact that different writers will be trying to do different things.

At its most basic some might be hoping to write romance, other murder mystery, others still might be hoping to ‘save the planet’ by pointing out the dangers of ‘global warming’. Some might hope for money and fame, some might purport not to give a fig about money and fame, some might be persuading themselves that they want ‘to create literature’ and so on and on an on (and I have read some real guff from supposedly ‘serious writers’ but no names, no pack drill.

Me, I’m doing it for only two reasons: that I enjoy it and because ever since I was sixteen I’ve persuaded myself that I was ‘a writer’. I shan’t tell the story here as to why I came to believe that, but I shall confess that I more or less did fuck all writing until I sat down and wrote what became Love: A fiction. Essentially, I want to prove to myself that I am not just another of life’s bullshitters, though now it does go just a little deeper than that.

One thing I keep in mind is that nothing, but nothing is perfect from the off and ‘my plan’ is to get it all down, then ‘shape’. The trouble is every time I sit down to write – and see above about procrastination – I am for ever doing a little re-writing when strictly I should not bother with that until the first draft is finished.

NB (the second so far) The other day I looked up the history of pens, mainly those used in the 16th, 17th, 18th and early 19th century.

For much of that time writers of every kind were using quill pens, dipping them in ink. ‘Re-writing’, composing drafts was all done by hand and it must have been a bloody pain like no other.

For example, Gibbon’s The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, published in six volumes between 1776 and 1789, is estimated to be about 1,105,000 words long. And I am certain that Gibbon made many changes to what he was writing as he went along.

Apart from juvenilia, Jane Austen wrote six novels before she died at the age of 42 in 1817 and all were written with a quill pen.

Later came the metal nib pen but writing was still only done by hand, and although typewriters became common in the last decades of the 19th century, I have no idea how many writers used them in preference to writing by hand. Finally, word processing software such as Microsoft Word (and Bean which I use on my Macs) took over from typewriters.

To get to the point, because of all the re-writing I do, I would find it a real pain to write on a typewriter. Yes, it’s possible, what with crossings out and such, and I did write stories in the early 1990s on a little portable typewriter (and still have them somewhere, though I doubt any would shake much fruit from the trees).

Originally a word processor was a kind of digital typewriter and in 1993 I bought one made by Panasonic, a WL50 or a WL55 according to the picture of one I have just found in the net. This was a halfway house
and certainly not as good as a laptop as it had a limited memory and once you got to a certain point, you had to save what you have written to a floppy disk (look them up, kids) which as a pain. But I am now vastly off track by writing all the semi-irrelevant bullshit.


In fact, I’m going to end this post here. Sorry. I’m sure you are all panting for more, but . . . (I’m tired, so nothing more today, not even another NB).

. . .

Here is the work I have so far had printed – I put it that way because although, strictly, they have been published, it was me who published them, and claiming ‘they are published’ might be a tad misleading. In fairness to myself, I haven’t even tried to interest a publisher (and getting one interested in publishing short stories is just a little harder these days than squeezing blood from a stone.

Although all these are available to be bought, I am not interested in ‘making money’ (and would be deluded if I thought I might, frankly), but I would just like the different works to be read. I mean surely that’s at heart all that most writers want? No? OK, I did try.





Verse:



Monday, 19 May 2025

Trump and his gang of no-hopers are still cretins, but here is the first post this year that is not about the Desperate Don and his stupidity, but about short trip of Canterbury to see an old friend and two more recent friends

Canterbury, May 17-19

I have rather neglected this blog and have post only five times since the turn of the year, four times in February and just once in January. Furthermore, all four posts were about what a cretin Donald Trump is and the fifth on the related question of wondering why the far-right in Germany is making a comeback.

None of those posts will have been popular with supporters of he Desperate Don and Germany’s Afd (Alternative für Deutschland) party. Those who happen upon this ‘ere blog might also be wondering ‘can’t the old chap bang on about something else for a change?’

Well, of course, he can and so here and now I shall bang on about a tripette I’ve just made to Canterbury and from where I am returning home to North Cornwall as I sit on the 12.35pm from London Paddington to Exeter St Davids, then to driver the final 60 miles home. And if that topic, most certainly not about morons around the world, including Donald Trump and his assortment of cabinet deadbeats – Rubio, Hegseth, Bondi, Noem, Kennedy, Burgum, Duffy et al – doesn’t shake your tree, piss off and read someone else’s blog and consider yourselves banned from reading mine for a month.

The occasion of my trip was a reunion of sorts with a very good old college friend – ‘old’ as in ‘longstanding’, although neither of us will see 70 again – and two more recently acquired friends, the former drummer in the band they were both in in the 1970s and his wife.

The former drummer was born in Barnard Castle, on the County Durham / Yorkshire border, but has lived in the US for more than forty years and now has American citizenship. His wife is fully American, born in New Jersey.

We chose to meet in Canterbury because our mutual friend lives in Deal on the Kent coast and it was easy for him to drive to Canterbury for Sunday lunch at The Old Weavers in Canterbury old town, built in 1500 
although dated on its sign as 1500, much of the structure of the building is earlier with the foundation having been laid in the 12th century. The fabric of the street frontage is 15th century with 16th to 20th century alterations and additions. The external river frontage has been much altered and extended from three to five gables, disguises the original 15th century fabric. In the interior of the building much of the original Tudor structure has survived with Jacobean, Georgian and later additions.

This was our second such reunion, and although I had been in touch with the Americans over then net, only the second time I had met them face-to-face. (For those interested, they – all three – had roast lamb but I stuck to chicken Kiev as I am not much of a meat eater these days).

The Americans and I stayed Canterbury’s Cathedral Gate Hotel, sitting in Butter Market and, as the more astute reader will gather, right next to the gate leading to Canterbury Cathedral. The cathedral was literally as stone’s throw away and either backed on to our hotel or our hotel backed on to the cathedral. That’s up to you.

The hotel was as old as the cathedral itself built for monks. Quirky does not even begin to describe it, and the quirks delight most foreign visitors, especially Germans and most Americans, though, the owner assured me, it does get some guests with a vanilla outlook who far prefer very bland, very straight lines and somewhere with as little character as possible. This, I suspect, are wholesome, God-fearing folk from the American Mid-west who can’t be doing with fiddle-faddle of any kind however ‘charming’.

There are no straight lines in the Cathedral Gate Hotel, none at all. Everything is at an angle, uneven and leaning over. I assume the health and safety bods have been over it with a tooth-comb to ensure it is safe to live in, but we can only go on the promise.

Stairs are steep and narrow and uneven. Corridors lead here, there and everywhere. I had a reasonably simple trip to my room on the fourth floor overlooking the Butter Market (which I could not see, however, as the – quite modern – window ‘curtain’ refused to be raised).

My American friends, however, had a more adventurous trip to their room from the reception area. This took them down one narrow corridor, into another off to the left, then up a few stairs to a door leading on a roof. This they had to cross along a short gangway which did have a rubberised floor to avoid slipping in the rain and a guardrail on the sides, but did not have a roof to keep guests on their way to their room dry on their brief crossing from one part of the hotel to another.

Inconvenient? No, not really, just a charming quirk that amused guests (except those from Kansas, Wyoming, Oklahoma and Nebraska).

The weather forecast for Canterbury when I looked at it on Saturday morning just before leaving home promised quite warm temperatures and sun, sun, sun and the more sun for the weekend. And that’s what we got throughout Saturday. We did not on Sunday or this morning. Sunday was distinctly chilly.

Because of that forecast I decided to set off with in just a T-shirt and shirt and dispense with a jacket. Come Sunday I wish I had taken a jacked of some kind, or a hoody. Just after nine when the streets were pretty much deserted and did not fill up with tourists as they did later in the day, I went for a walk around the cathedral and got

colder and colder. Finally, my hour of sightseeing over I decided to find a local Asda or Tesco to get some kind of cheap pullover or hoody. And here in medieval Canterbury old town, of course, there was nothing of the kind.

So I went into one of the – very many – touristy shops to ask where I might find an Asda or Tesco (think Walmart or similar – I was not looking for anything fashionable just something a tad warmer than a thin cotton T-shirt and a thin cotton shirt).

There an extremely helpful shopowner told me there was a Primark in ‘the high street (and the Asda and Tesco superstores) were some distance away for a walker). He checked and told me it would be opening in and hour at 11am. Then he did something quite touching: he insisted that I borrow his jacket (something like a North Face item) while I found my way to the Primark branch. I refused. But he kept insisting until I could no longer refuse, and I then set off

As it turned out a branch of Sports Direct was already open and I bought a hoody for a very reasonably £16 (after having to ask whether they had anything cheaper than the £59.99 hoodies more prominently on display). Then it was back to the shop to return the jacket, and this led to a long conversation.

The owner, a man from Uzbekistan, was a former sociology lecturer at the University of Kent. I discovered this when I asked where he was from as his kind of generosity, though not unknown in Britain, was unusual. We then talked bout this and that for the next hour and a half.

He explained that since Brexit – remember Brexit? Funding for universities, much of it dependent on European Union money, and the number for European students had fallen alarmingly, his department staff of 60 had reduced to 13 and fearing the worst he and his wife and decided to open their shop (though why that kind of shop was not clear and nor did I think of asking).

After that lunch at The Old Weavers followed by a trip to pub showing Sky sports and see Arsenal beat Newcastle, secure its participation in next season’s Champions League.

That’s it really. A little break in routine which has been welcome.

Pip, pip.

Wednesday, 26 February 2025

A new American civil war? Can it happen? Will it happen? Who knows, but it ain't looking encouraging for the Yanks. Mind they were stupid enough to elect a rapist fraudulent felon who paints his face orange every morning


Just posted this on Twitter (‘X’), and it has finally sunk in that Trump (and Musk) in his extremely addled way really does want to do away with democracy in the US and become ‘a dictator’.

Unlikely? Well, as unlikely as a convicted felon, proven fraudster and ajudged rapist being elected US President.

That happened, so frankly all bets are off.

Face it, ALL of us here might be outraged and predict the worst, but in our - I’ll say it! - complacent liberal way, there’s a corner of us which keeps whispering ‘don’t fret, it won’t come to that’ and, guiltily, we take a quiet solace in that ‘well, this is America, this kind of thing doesn’t happen!’

Well, what HAS happened is that SCOTUS has declared that ‘a president is immune from criminal prosecution for any presidential acts’, and that will in time certainly open a can of worms.

What is so piss-poor about that ruling is not what is says, which is dubious enough, but far worse: how utterly vague and supremely debatable the phrase ‘presidential acts’ is! It can mean anything depending upon who is being asked. And, of course, it bloody will!

So while we outraged angel-souled liberals get our lawyers to complain to the federal courts that this and that can certainly NOT be construed as a ‘presidential act’, La Trumpa and his organ grinders (of whom I suspect there are several and La Trumpa is to dumb to realise he is fundamentally a patsy) are already having the lawyers argue the toss in court in the standard delaying tactic will also committing more ‘presidential acts’.

Result: total bloody legal logjam and it will be one which really will divide the nation. It’s the old and very useful political tactic to neutralise opposition: ‘send it to committee’.

It’s even worse than that, however. What if, say, one of La Trumpa’s ‘presidential acts’ is not necessarily to murder opponents - though we are now assured ‘he could in the course of doing his duty’– but far simpler: to detain under house arrest as many Democrat lawmakers as he need as well as potential Republican ‘trouble-makers’.

More democratic outrage and thundering editorials in the Washington Post, New York Times and even the Wall Stree Journal ‘that this is wholly unacceptable!

Then, after a federal judge has put a temporary stay on the relevant presidential order and ruled that the deatainees must be released - sparking more confusion about ‘judges overreaching their authority’ – what then? Simple, La Trumpa and his mobster, simply ignore the judicial rulings.

There, in a nutshell, is the simple liberal democratic dilemma: WE ‘play by the rules’ and are stymied when other simply don’t do so.

And the first such two-fingers (US middle finger) to the judiciary makes subsequent two-fingered salutes ever easier and they come thick and fast.

You Yanks have guns and aren’t afraid to use them (and we Brits are perpetually baffled by the bullshit about ‘it’s every Americans right to bear arms’ – yes, in the frontier days 240 years ago, but in 2025 when it is now something of a weekend sport to take out as many elementary school kids and students as you can before lunch.

So how soon might it be that someone takes up arms to make a ‘democratic’ point about La Trumpa and MAGA pissing all over American democracy, then getting an armed response.

Lord, what a fucking bloody mess you guys have allowed to evolve. Seems you took your eye off the ball.