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Showing posts from May, 2023

That Bud Jet revisited

I've blown the dust off this October-2022 blog and reposted it in the light of today's Daily Telegraph article here  and excellent commentary here exonerating Truss and Kwarteng. As I said at the time, the Blob was / is to blame for the extent of our economic ills, not Batman and Robin.

Sins of the Fathers

I was set a blog-challenge a wee while ago in the context of reparations for slavery: “…unless you are a person of colour or descended from immigrants at that time … you will have somehow benefitted from the proceeds of slavery… At what point in the long chain of benefits do we decide that individuals and organisations should not be held responsible for slavery?” If I were a Christian, I’d simply point to Ezekiel 18:20 (King James’ version, of course): “The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father”. Funnily enough, lots of Christians are demanding reparations – a hypocritical circle to square.

Education, education, education

Another quickie blog while I put the finishing touches to the one on Reparations, which has been anything but a quickie! Apparently even the most able students have been traumatised by the Year 6 SATS tests. Teachers are claiming they were stumped by some of the questions. The Daily Mail reproduced a sample few and asked their readers how many they could answer. I love a challenge! Except it wasn’t a challenge. I aced each and every one of them, English and Maths, while making a Béchamel sauce for a fish pie. Anyone who’s ever made such a sauce knows that it’s easy to mess up throughout, from burning the butter to not stirring vigorously or for long enough.

Happy and Glorious!

I have a million and one things to do today so this blog is just a collection of short takes: no research, no ‘clever’ logic, probably more typos than usual. It’s my disparate thoughts on the Coronation of KC3.

Dream on, Gerontius

Given that I can’t get the blessed music out of my head, day or night, awake or asleep, I might as well blog about it and compound the agony or, should I say, “the double agony of man”. I shouldn’t describe it as agony, to have something of such sublimity playing with my head like an ethereal pinball machine but, honestly, if ever the adage ‘less is more’ should apply, it’s with the rattling around of this piece of work. And what a piece of work it is.