Category: Media

The execrable garbage on social media – and a Covid Mad Hatter’s tea party

The execrable garbage on social media – and a Covid Mad Hatter’s tea party

GILES WATSON WRITES:

Another toxic meme is circulating.

It tries to claim that most of the deaths attributed to COVID-19 in Italy were accompanied by “comorbidities”, and it insists that most of the deaths were in nursing homes.

Given that this meme is appearing repeatedly on my news feed, I’m going to put my answer to it here, rather than tackling this execrable garbage every time it crops up.

If you’re my Facebook friend and you are sharing this rubbish, please read this and then decide whether you still want to be my “friend”.

Just because these people had underlying medical conditions, it does not mean that they were going to die from them – certainly not with the horrible, desolate suddenness which COVID-19 dealt death to them. Most of us have an underlying health condition as we get older; it depends purely on how you define it.

As for the part about 90% of deaths coming from nursing homes, it seems rather irrelevant to the discussion unless we have decided that we are not going to honour old people for their past contributions to society, or care about their welfare now – which is frankly just abominable. The meme includes no statistic showing how many health workers were killed, I notice; are they dispensable too?

We could also just look at the bare evidence of our senses. Italy’s health services were overwhelmed. Military planning was required to deal with the numbers of the dead.

This is one of the reasons, apart from the physical evidence, why I say that the anti-lockdown movements are driven by neo-fascism: because they are based on a fundamental disregard for the needs of others.

They also lack historical perspective. We are extraordinarily lucky that we have gone a century without being affected by a major pandemic. We’ve had a century to prepare ourselves for it, and to put measures in place to ensure that everyone was protected medically and economically.

We are witnessing worldwide failures, by most governments, to do that. And given our encroachments on wilderness, our long-term abuse of antibiotics and the way we encourage zoonotic disease through factory farming, we ought to be expecting more pandemics soon. We are not going to defeat them without tremendous human cost if we just go on living lives as normal.

My parents are both over 80. To me, that increases the value of every extra year and month that they live. It is precious time. People saying that only the old are dying are not only wrong; they are engaging in a colossal callousness, and it makes me wonder

just how much they respect the aged in their own families.

Those who claim that lock-downs are themselves some sort of “fascism”, rather than a compassionate social response to the threat of mass death and bereavement, don’t seem to have complained about any of the other colossal curtailments of freedom over the past decade, such as police raids on our national broadcaster as a punishment for exposing war crimes, or the gag put on public servants which prevents them from criticising government policy, or the silencing of health care professionals working in our offshore internment camps, or the threat of a life sentence hanging over a whistleblower who revealed bullying tactics in our tax office.

Suddenly, when lock-downs have become necessary to stop a lethal pandemic, these people are vocal about the curtailment if freedoms they never gave a damn about before.

So, here’s a question you could ask, instead of railing against sensible measures to prevent mass morbidities.

People have been paying taxes into our system for the past century, and we have known all along that a pandemic was inevitable one day. The fact that it has taken a century is a massive reprieve. Yet our governments, despite all that warning, can’t afford to pay a universal basic income to protect people from hardship and stop people from dying horribly and prematurely.

Why not?

DORRIE BRIDGE WRITES:

Whey hey, some parts of Greater Manchester have been ‘eased’ on lock-down.

But, sadly, it gets more like the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party by the minute. You don’t need a big black opera hat, nor a dormouse, not even a grinning cat.

You can have your tea party in a restaurant, six to a bubble – but there’ll be a penalty if you take one sixth of that bubble and sit them opposite you at the other end of your dining table. Is it any wonder that Alice began to accept madness as the status quo?

Did she, like us, start to make it up as she went along. Ultimately I wonder if Lewis Carol is a pseudonym for Boris?

SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS – IF THEY ARE LEGAL WE WILL PUBLISH THEM!

#covid19 #isolation #bubble #Manchester #pandemic

Take the original Trip with Leigh G Banks…

Take the original Trip with Leigh G Banks…

A lot of people on the site have been asking when Leigh is ‘doing’ radio again – his shows The Trip and the Dinner Party had dedicated listeners across the world.

Leigh is currently working on his memoir, Ravine, and is collaborating on two mainstream TV documentaries.

He is also continuing the fight for parental alienation and to save a village from the tyranny of 10,000 trucks a day…So we are recalling and revisiting Leigh’s greatest radio hits.

Come on join in and have a laugh. Let’s rock the joint!

#Leighgbanks #radio #music #rock # Blues #Progressive #Folk #Country #Thetrip #TheDinnerParty

Here’s to our mums – the beer bathing beauties!

Here’s to our mums – the beer bathing beauties!

By Alena Dulakova, Tatras Escapes

Carrie and I met around three years ago.

We used to work together for an education franchise in Reading, UK. We clicked right away. You know when somebody just gets you completely and utterly from (almost) day one?

We became very good friends …

I have always talked about Slovakia to Carrie. How pretty it is, what you can do and see there, and that she should come and see for herself one day.

Little did I know this chat will turn into reality a few months later.

We had wanted to surprise our mums for Christmas last year and take them to Paris.

However, France just wasn’t working out for us. It was either the dates, or the places we wanted to see. The usual organisational issues you get from time to time. What I knew for a fact was that we can go to Slovakia and A. Carrie and her mum Linda don’t have to worry about the organisation of it all B. I REALLY enjoy putting itineraries together especially when I’m showing off my motherland and C. I was very confident they would love it.

OK, perhaps a little hesitant and keeping all my fingers and toes crossed.

But off we went!

29th January 2020, we landed in Poprad, Slovakia. Carrie hates flying and so she used a special kind of liquid to get her relaxed. She got so relaxed, they managed to be the last ones coming out of that plane! Phew… OK, hello mum Alena! (I’m Alena and my mum is also Alena, a very strange tradition in Slovakia where girls inherit the name of their mother and boys of their dad. Confusing everyone for no apparent reason. Although, it doesn’t happen so often any more).

I planned the whole itinerary for us and have to admit, I was like a child at Christmas waiting to unwrap the presents.

I take a huge pride in presenting beautiful Slovakia, specifically the Tatra region. It is where I was born and spent 19 years of my life before moving to the UK.

The next day, we started at Smokovec, took a cable car to Hrebienok where we observed some ice sculptures from ice sculpting competitions all over the world.

It was mesmerising!

Next!

It doesn’t matter how old you are, you are going sledging when I happen to be your guide. The girls (Carrie and Linda) haven’t laughed so much in ages. So I’ve been told, and the rest of the population on Hrebienok must have heard. They couldn’t get the sledges to go because they didn’t know how to stir it. It takes a couple of minutes to become a pro. Trust me! We all met at the finishing line, my oh my, did we have fun!

As we were waiting for the mountain train, I thought this is a moment to introduce the Tatra Tea!

The stronger the better, Linda said.

Alrighty, 72% it is then! A shot in Slovakia is 0.5ml rather than 0.25ml (I always like to make this point, mainly for health and safety reasons). We had 2 shots each.

Tatra Tea is a liquor like alcohol of different strengths and flavours. You can feel the warmth travelling from your mouth through to the final destination (your stomach!).

It’s absolutely fantastic during those cold winter days.

We jumped on the train and waited for it to depart, when all of a sudden, a group of people were stuck to the window. It took me a while to figure out they are watching an animal.

It’s a bear!

Ladies, look it’s a wild brown bare playing about with a household cat! First, we thought it’s the Tatra Tea and its magic powers but after observing the majestic creature for a couple of minutes, we were certain it really is a beautiful Tatra bear playing with a cat.

I have never seen anything like that in my life (nor did Carrie and Linda of course). It almost felt like I had this ‘performance’ prepared for them. They told me they will never forget the day they saw a wild bear being chased by a cat in beautiful Slovakian mountains.

Our trip was filled with fun, laughter and new memories.

We also visited a beer spa in Poprad town called Beer Spa Tatras. It is exactly what it says on the tin – beer bath. You’re greeted in very traditional Slovakian style – fresh bread with special butter (it’s basically pork fat, I know it sounds gross but it’s actually very yummy. Unless you’re vegetarian or vegan. Then stay away please).

There are four baths filled up with warm water, hops and beer. Each bath has its own beer pipe that can be used to top up your bath or glass. Drink as much as you like. However, you only have an hour at the spa (I think I know exactly why that is!).

Sauna, ice cold water, shower and hay bed are also part of this lovely experience. The place has its own brewery and restaurant downstairs. There is also a gift shop where you can purchase some beer.

We finished the trip with a dinner at beautiful Sabato hotel and restaurant in medieval part of the town called Spisska Sobota. It’s definitely a must see while you’re visiting. We had the restaurant to ourselves all night!

Yes, you read that right. The wine and food were absolutely sensational. What made this dinner very special was a genuine thank you from Carrie and Linda that have both said it was the best holiday ever! Whether it was the wine talking, I don’t know, but it certainly warmed my heart. As this is exactly what I strive for when I organise trips for Tatra Escapes customers.

Alena

The Founder

Tatra Escapes

www.tatraescapes.co.uk

#holidays #getaway #slovakia #tatras #beerbath #tatraescapes

Grin and bear it…Leigh’s ‘lost’ radio shows

Grin and bear it…Leigh’s ‘lost’ radio shows

A lot of people on the site have been asking when Leigh is ‘doing’ radio again – his shows The Trip and the Dinner Party had dedicated listeners across the world.

Leigh is currently working on his memoir, Ravine, and is collaborating on two mainstream TV documentaries.

He is also continuing the fight for parental alienation and to save a village from the tyranny of 10,000 trucks a day…So we are recalling and revisiting Leigh’s greatest radio hits.

Come on join in and have a laugh. Let’s rock the joint!

#Leighgbanks #radio #music #rock # Blues #Progressive #Folk #Country #Thetrip #TheDinnerParty

No magic if you bank on penn-y and teller for your own dosh

No magic if you bank on penn-y and teller for your own dosh

What is wrong with our banks?

Why do they think they can lie to us, strand us a thousand miles from home in a covid-ridden country, refuse to give us our money when we want it, leave us standing forlornly on the doorstep of a hotel with no way of paying the bill, render us potentially destitute sleeping on a park bench, or in our car – AND then tell you it’s for our own protection!

Well, here’s a penny for ’em!

This is what’s just happened to us, AGAIN, this time in Trieste in Italy … at this moment we are parked outside a bijou little residence – a boutique hotel no less – on a Vespa-ridden main street, in blistering heat, with the concierge refusing to let us in because our credit card has been blocked by the bank.

Now we know we are way below the limit on that particular credit card and it has been accepted over the past three weeks in Slovakia, Czechnia, Hungary, Slovenia, and Croatia without any problem.

And you can’t blame the Italians! No! It’s the bloody NatWest Bank being ridiculous again.

After more frantic phone calls to them we finally got through to the security team – he is a bank teller with an 007-type title that’s all… and let’s define bank teller, for that’s what these people still officially are.

“A bank teller is an employee of a bank who deals directly with customers, a customer representative. The job includes assisting customers with client transactions and depositing and withdrawing funds from an account.”

And that’s what this bloke does for a living, earning between 30-40 thousands pounds a year, I may add. But what he isn’t is some sort of international cyber cop working tirelessly to protect his customers and there money…

Is it a claim? Is it a nurd? No! It’s Tellerman!”

And this is what Tellerman told us about why our card had been cancelled and yet again we have been potentially stranded in a covid lockdown country without any visible means of support:

Now remember – a penny for ’em!

We had waited 40 minutes to get through to him, being told by that nice lady that the bank ‘is experiencing a higher than normal volume of calls’ … educated us by showing how to do voice recognition and entertained us with some tinny Vivaldi. Very nice.

Then we had to wait for Tellerman, to make himself a cup of tea as he was working from home, butter his morning toast, put the dog out and tell the kids to be quiet.

Then he said in his official little voice: “How may I help you today?”

We explained our predicament. He listened politely then began to check things on his all-singing-all-dancing adding machine.

“Ah,” he said: “I see the problem… your card has been blocked for your own protection as there has been some mysterious activity on it indicating perhaps some criminal intent.”

We heard his wife come in from shopping – she let out a high wafting “Hi!”

He replied sternly: “I’m on the telephone machine to a customer darling.”

Their dog yawned as it watched morning television.

He continued: “There was recently a transaction involving ONE pence which alerted us to something untoward going on … the one pence trick is a strategic method used by international criminals to see if a stolen credit card is actually working or not.”

WHAT! NO THEY DON’T! They take – spend – purloin – hundreds or thousands to see if a credit card is working!

So, we got him to expand on his theory a little more and it turned out the one pence transaction had taken place six weeks earlier (so how come the Tellerman team only just spotted it?) and was to do with a transaction involving a Moonpig promotion (why did Moonpig bother about taking one pence – how much did it cost them?)

“We were acting for your own protection madam,” he said.

“Over a penny!” I was heard to exclaim in the background.

Tellerman said he had reinstated our card.

A penny for them…

Four hours later we used the same card to pay for a meal.

It was blocked!

https://leighgbankspreservationsociety.blog/cry-poverty-as-banks-hold-billions-more-of-our-savings/
https://leighgbankspreservationsociety.blog/this-virus-has-no-dominion-as-bankers-turn-dead-eyes-away-from-the-bereaved/
https://leighgbankspreservationsociety.blog/tourettes-and-tantrums-as-more-lock-down-victims-find-themselves-one-question-away-from-banking-oblivion/
https://leighgbankspreservationsociety.blog/locked-down-by-the-virus-of-hostile-silly-bankers-who-dont-care/

#bankers #money #finance #PennyandTeller #creditcards

Cohen’s legal camp warns Trump – you want it darker?

Cohen’s legal camp warns Trump – you want it darker?

Enigmatic troubadour Leonard Cohen discussed very little about politics in his 60 year career, only to say that he wasn’t cool with extremism of any kind.

Leonard was happy being a politician of the broken heart.

But his legal team believe that the urbane and charming poet would be fuming after Trump’s camp included Hallelujah as a grand anthemic call to the beleaguered people of the US at the recent Republican National Convention.

And not only did they use it once – they had a second go at it too!

So, in a statement, representatives from Cohen’s estate and Sony ATV Music Publishing said they are “exploring legal options” for the unauthorized use.

Michelle L. Rice, legal representative of Leonard Cohen’s estate, wrote “we are surprised and dismayed that the RNC would proceed knowing that the Cohen Estate had specifically declined the RNC’s use request, and their rather brazen attempt to politicize and exploit in such an egregious manner ‘Hallelujah’, one of the most important songs in the Cohen song catalogue.”

And with a wryness ol’ Leonard would have been proud of, she said that had the RNC requested Cohen’s “You Want It Darker,” they may have reconsidered.

The use of Cohen’s song at the convention in the US brought strong reactions from fans, many who said it was totally inappropriate, coming on the heels of a the violence against the African-American community and an economy in turmoil and the pandemic.

Many critics also say Trump’s camp didn’t understand the song and saw it as purely a religious work. But the song has far more meaning a depth and is more about the horrendous break up of a relationship than anything else.

Even though he did not of talk politics, Leonard, had a recurrent theme in his songs. In Democracy (The Future) Cohen wrote, “From the wars against disorder/ From the sirens night and day/ From the fires of the homeless/ From the ashes of the gay/ Democracy is coming to the USA”.

#cohen #hallelujah #trump #youwantitdarker #convention #legal

I’ll let you be in my ‘Johnny Foreigner’ dream, if I can be in yours…

I’ll let you be in my ‘Johnny Foreigner’ dream, if I can be in yours…

In a very small way we have just tasted what it is like to face racism.

Don’t get me wrong, we haven’t had to cross from one land to another in a leaky plastic boat or feel our lives sweating out in the back of a rocking roasting truck.

No.

And we don’t have to live on minimum wage, ten-to-a-room, or in mildewed old caravans and spend the day picking vegetables and fruit in a muddy Middle England field.

Nor have we ever been piled one on top of the other in city ghettos.

But, that’s what we make our European neighbours do when they come looking for a new life in good old blustery Blighty!

No. We are actually the privileged … faux gypsies in a black Bentley look-alike. We have air-conditioning and cool bags, money, sat navs, jet-pack diesel and mobile phones.

We are the English lockedowners abroad, burping cheap lager, slugging purple and yellow shots and turned grey and wispy by cheap fags.

Out here Andrea and I seem to be a reminder of the old contemptibles who rode rough-shod over Europe a century ago…

We are the rich and rip-off-able, Johnny Foreigners in foreign lands, pasty white targets in so many European nations … Italy, Hungary, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia and even that covid-ridden holiday haven of Croatia.

And as Brexit cuts like a limping old warship across the water where we fought our friends for all those little fishes, we are seen as the Don Quixote traitors tilting at the whirling cogs of the EU and its dictatorial legislation, tariffs and bullying.

Yes, strange things are happening in Europe …

The land of open borders and Schengen ambitions is the place where so many are pocketing the union coin for a better life while we build a wall between us and them, just like Trump.

But on the rolling roads from borderless country to borderless country we two were haunted by police in blacked-out BMWs and boy racers in souped up Skoda Octavias.

And when we got our speeding fine almost doubled, it was because we were in our black Bentley look-alike with English number plates. The four armed-to-the teeth police it took to detain us in a prison of red and white bollards in the fast lane licked their lips at the smell of our cash.

Local cars flashed by at twice the speed we were apparently doing.

But the speed of a corrupt copper’s mind knows no limit eh?

At the Slovenia border, we were made to get out of our car and empty its boot by a pinch-faced sneering spinster border guard with a gun, to show what contraband we were delivering into her country.

Her peevish arrogant gun-totting demands were orchestrated by the full-blown horn section of all the central Europeans who were being stopped from going around their daily business by this inquisitive stick insect in a bullet-proof vest.

But they didn’t have the horn for her, nooo – the cacophony was aimed directly at me, my wife and my big black limo.

But our world almost fell apart when she found two bars of cannabis chocolate and a bag of non-THC cannabis cookies … the gun itched the sun-parched spider of her hand as she pointed like a sniggering velociraptor at them.

She relented when we showed her the receipt from the official toll-road station souvenir shop in her own country.

So, we were on our way to the sneers and gestures of the locals SHE had held up in the blistering sun.

And why, when we crossed the border in to Croatia, a land desperate to drops its metaphorical skirts and allow the rest of Europe in to its glorious undulating hills and thighs and neatly-trimmed forests and bushes, were we followed by ‘secret police’ in an unmarked van as we went for a lovely day at the seaside?

And why did the taxi driver who took us to dinner confide on the way back home that there were two prices for a trip, a price for locals and a price for British tourists?

But are we being treated any better or worse than we Brits treat the Slovaks, the Poles, the Romanians or the Croats who still come across to the UK looking for a better life?

I think not!

And just maybe we created this atmosphere ourselves … and perhaps we deserve it.

There is a growing climate of anti-tourist sentiment brewing on the continent and the Foreign and Commonwealth Office recently released a list of countries where Britons have been the victims of serious crime.

Yet, there are roughly 2.2 million Eastern European nationals living in the UK, but nobody tells the Polish, Romanian and Lithuanian nationals where they could be in danger.

There were 43,516 knife crime offences in the UK early in 2019, and of course, these crimes were committed, mainly, by our own dispossessed youth, those trapped in tower-blocks that stand sentinel over no-go areas in ALL of our cities.

But in fact all we Johnny foreigners around Europe want to do is to share what we’ve got, our history, our beauty, our sun our rain our languages, our creativity. We want to become each other – they want the money we can supply for a job well done and we can buy the homes they have abandoned and restore them to their former glory.

“I’ll let you be in my dream if I can be in yours’.

There are approximately 285 thousand British citizens living in Spain, with a further 145 thousand in France and almost 93 thousand in Germany.

But we like modern myths… surveys show Britons think around a quarter of our population are immigrants, when it’s half that, at around 13 per cent.

But it’s not just how many, its who these foreigners are that people get wrong.

When asked people said that immigrants are refugees and asylum seekers yet these are in truth the smallest category of immigrants.

Large proportions think too that immigration increases crime levels, reduces the quality of the NHS and increases unemployment among skilled workers. This just isn’t true.

The truth is that all we want to do, even if we don’t see it yet, is share our lives, share our cultures, our boots and shoes, walk a mile in each others flip-flops, be in each others countries, be friends and distant neighbours …

#borders #racism #europe #police

A bit sheepish about those shower scenes as I’m a Celebrity heads for the Welsh hills!

A bit sheepish about those shower scenes as I’m a Celebrity heads for the Welsh hills!

MSM has been having a good old laugh about UK minor celebs missing out on that trip to the land of Oz to eat worms and Witchetty grubs in a bug-ridden forest as that vomit-ridden scandalous travesty of modern entertainment keeps a welcome in the hillside for them!

#i’maceleb #getooutofhere #antanddec #antanddick #celebs #jungle #oz #covid #australia #whichettygrubs

Click here … https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-8670039/Im-Celebrity-2020-filming-location-CONFIRMED-200-year-old-Gwrych-Castle-Wales.html

Shame in Victoria … sex victims must stay anonymous to protect paedophiles

Shame in Victoria … sex victims must stay anonymous to protect paedophiles

Sex assault victims in Victoria, South-East Australia, have lost their right to use their own names when they tell what happened to them – and who did it!

The changes to the Judicial Proceedings Reports Act, introduced in February, silence all sexual assault victims from ever speaking out under their real identities.

These laws are seen as a “major victory” for convicted paedophiles and rapists

The laws also apply irrespective of when the crime happened or when the offender was found guilty.

This includes scores of high profile survivor advocates who have been speaking out for decades.

These individuals will now potentially face jail if they continue their advocacy work under their real names.

Any sexual assault victim found guilty of breaking the new laws could face up to four months jail and fines in excess of $3000. Media outlets could also face potential prosecution and fines of over $8000.

The only way for a survivor to reclaim the right to self-identify in public, is to take the matter to court and obtain a court order – a process which could cost each victim in excess $10,000.

#sexabuse #victims #peadophiles #silenceofthelambs #courts #fines #publishing

How size 13 winklepickers led to family’s lost picture

How size 13 winklepickers led to family’s lost picture

The other day I was mooching in a second hand book shop in Newport, Shropshire, when I came across a tome about my old home town of Wolverhampton (writes Andrea Martin-Banks).

As I leafed through page after page of grainy black and white photographs of places I recognised – The Wolverhampton Airport at Pendeford, where I spent lots of time with my dad who was a keen pilot… I bet we were the only family to live in a council house and had half shares in an airplane  …  The West Park, where again I spent lots of sunny Sundays on the boating lake with my dad, also the Royal London Buildings where I started my first job at an insurance brokers.

Then I came across a picture of the Central Arcade, just as I remember it where my favourite toy shop used to be, a glorious place with a glass domed roof. 

My eyes kept being drawn to a tall slim young man on the left hand side of the picture. And I thought I recognised him.

It’s my brother Paul waiting outside Rachel’s hairdressers for his girlfriend Chris who worked there. The picture according to the caption was dated 1966 (the year they married 50 years ago) and Paul had just joined the police force. Paul doesn’t remember the picture being taken, but many, many years later my mother had seen it in the Black Country Bugle.

But sadly, like so many family memories the paper must have been thrown away, I never thought we would come across it again.

My sister-in-law Chris said it wasn’t difficult to spot him as he is tall, but the give-away was the notorious size 13 winkle picker shoes he was wearing at the time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttozdondP1U

What a joy it was to see this picture after all this time…

The book is called Memories of Wolverhampton, by Alton Douglas and published by Beacon Radio and radio WABC.

#beaconradio #altondouglas #wabc #Wolves #wolverhampton #60s #fashion #winklepickers #westpark