Give Frankie Boyle Your Attention

Looking at this blog of mine, it is obvious from the time elapsed since last posting, that I have hardly a thought in my head, or at any rate, very few with enough coherence to write down. Sorry about that. However, I have not spent the intervening time unprofitably, for though most televisual offerings are a bag of the stuff that comes out of bull's bottoms, I have found a little diamond among the dross.

Frankie Boyle just makes me laugh out loud at his irreverently sharp non-pc wit, thank God for him and it. He is my hero on "Mock the Week" and can out-wit, out-shock and just out-do everybody on there. Oh, for a glinting glance from those bespectacled eyes, followed by a few words in that inimitable Scottish accent. Bet Frankie would have a fit if he thought he appealed so strongly to 60 year old grannies like myself.

Go Frankie, go! You light up the dark winter nights like a beacon of common sense and downright wickedness and I love you for it, wee lad.

Fry's English Delight BBC Radio 4 Does it Again

I have come to accept that as a blogger, I would make a good trapeze artist. I simply do not have the discipline to get the thoughts collected and transferred to my world wide audience, all 20 of them. Apologies all round folks. But I just have to share this brilliant quote from the inimitable, eccentric and delightful Stephen Fry, bless him. In his programme this morning on the English language in all its glory, he said "Computers oil the wheels of the handcart in which we are all going to hell." Isn't that just magnificent? I wish I had said it myself, but there you are, he is a genius and I am a lazy bones.

BBC Radio 4: Gold Among the Dross of Media Entertainment

If you can access BBC Radio 4 in your corner of the world, do so, I urge you. If you enjoy quality on the radio, here is the place to find it. This morning, Friday 19 June, at 9.00 am, I listened to a wonderful old favourite programme, broadcasting in the same format since 1942, "Desert Island Discs. Kirsty Young, the presenter, was as always, conducting a gentle exposition of the life, times and character of the great Labour Chancellor of the Exchequer of the 20th century, Denis, Lord Healey. Oh, if only we had men like him in government right now. But let me not digress.

I just wanted to share my enthusiasm for the man, the programme, along with some quotes he made that had me laughing out loud. They also provided a glimpse of the wit and wisdom of the man. He may be 92 years old, but as we say here in the North, he's not lost his marbles one bit! When asked what he thought of Margaret Thatcher, (one time Conservative Prime Minister),then and now, he replied that she was an awful prime minister, "because she wouldn't listen to anybody who didn't share her views" and "Nobody ever listens to her now, poor thing, I feel sorry for her. I gave her a hug the last time we met..."

Lord Healey's choice of music included Bach, Mozart and Beethoven, so he was a man after my own heart. The format of this programme allows the "castaway" (interviewee) to take three special items to the island, along with the Bible and the Complete Works of Shakespeare. I knew I had just discovered a kindred spirit when Lord Healey opted for the Faber Book of English Verse, a huge big box of chocolates and the Cavatina from Beethoven;s String Quartet No. 13 in B Flat Major.

This programme has stood the test of time, BBC Radio 4 is uncompromising in delivering a quality service, and after listening to Lord Healey, my day is brighter. Thank you sir.

All details of this and BBC Radio 4's other splendid offerings can be found on the BBC Website. Give your intellect a treat and listen.

Belfast Racists

There have been very few times in my life when I have been ashamed to call myself Irish - but this is one of them. I am deeply ashamed that people in my home city of Belfast could attack a group of Romanian families with such racial hatred and ferocity, that they were forced to flee their homes. Here we go again. Ah, but why does it not surprse me? As a Catholic child, I had to do a bit of fleeing in the past, before the Troubles with a capital "T" became an ongoing saga of murder and hatred.

The shame deepened when I heard one man, speaking on Radio 4 yesterday, with an accent much like my own. He declared these Romanians to be "parasites who should go back to their own country." I felt a little bit of hope when another man from the same working class area that housed the evicted families, state that this was the work of only a few racists. For God's sake, does nobody learn anything from 30 years of terror, mayhem, prejudice and bigotry?

Shamefully, I must accept that it would appear they have not. Is there some dreadful flaw in the Northern Irish psyche that impels people to attack those who are different? If what has just taken place is anything to go by, then the answer must be "yes." But I thought I knew that my people were good, kind, benevolent and welcoming, for the most part; therein lies a glimmer of hope.

Many of those Romanian families now just want to go home, and who could blame them? I have to conclude that the place I called "home" is so contaminated with inhumanity and intolerance that it is best avoided. Which is a great pity. To the good people of Belfast, and there are many, I extend my sorrow that they have been tainted by the few. Let us hope they can quash the evil in their midst. Let my doubts ast to this happening be unfounded.

A Great Result!

The absolutely fabulous Joanna Lumley must be over the moon, as the Gurkhas have won the right to settle in Britain,proving that at last, a bit of justice has emerged. I do not want to sound all gung ho and rah, rah, but these people have supported and fought for this country for years, and if any group deserved to be able to live here, then they do. Joanna fought too, without fear, without taking any nonsense or double talk from the politicians, and with the people of the nation behind her. What a victory and well done. Welcome to these wonderful people and their families, I hope you will be treated with the respect and honour you so rightly deserve, having earned these and more. That's it folks.

Ingorance of the Law is No Defence!

I think I heard somebody say that, or maybe I read it, or could it be wishful thinking on my part, but it sure is making a comeback as our glorious representatives in government rush to empty their pockets and show their many and varied receipts for things they "didn't know I couldn't claim for that." and so on and so forth and yawn and oh yeah! There is a song lurking at the back of my mind, which for some reason I associate tentatively with Roy Orbison. It is "Running Scared" and I think it would be a tip top election campaign anthem for every major UK political party.

If anybody out there reads this and can think of one better, please leave a comment and a suggestion, which I will polish up and send to Westminster. Oh what fun I will have. Meanwhile, I have better things to do, but am filled with regret that I didn't buy a simple account book and enter all the totals of moneys repaid therein, then, under Freedom of Information Act, demand the totals of moneys improperly spent. No, too, too long winded and boring for a mathematical dunce such as I. But I certainly hope somebody is in charge of doing hard sums and keeping account. It would be lovely to hear the final figures, should I live that long.

And Now We Make Reparation!

They are all putting their hands in their pockets, falling over themselves in their eagerness to repay what they should not have taken in the first place. Our government and opposition MPs, I mean. Golly, they will surely be welcomed at Heaven's pearly gates for such firm purpose of amendment and expressions of regret.

I await the next election to see whether this "too little, too late" empty gesture has had the desired effect. Perhaps we the voters will abstain from supporting those who failed us and show them just what we really think. It's a bugger, when we have reached a stage in our history where trust is just a word on paper, or even worse, part of the title of some financial organisation. Oh well, the public coffers may yet be swelled and those who deserve to benefit, receive help. My breath will not be held on that one.