A Question of Moral Authority

PARLIAMENTARY GOBBLEDEGOOK – THE QUESTION OF MORAL AUTHORITY


So, David Cameron (Conservative – leader of the opposition) accuses Gordon Brown (Labour – Prime Minister) of lacking any political or moral authority.

The main points for arriving at this conclusion seem to be that

i) GB failed to call an election, which DC thought he may have a chance of winning (political authority)
ii) GB stole, and put into practise, Tory (Conservatives) policies.(moral authority)

As far as I can see, this means he lacks political and moral authority because

a) He wouldn’t give the Tories an early chance to ruin the country
or
b) He lacks moral authority because he practises Tory policies.

This would seem to be a very strange accusation. Presumably, DC believes he occupies the moral high ground because politics is simply a means to further his career; obviously he doesn’t believe his own policies would be good for the country, otherwise he would applaud the PM for implementing them, feeling flattered that the PM should consider them worthy of theft! He fails to recognize that GB saved the country the expense of an unnecessary election which would have simply been about which "window-dresser" gains the prize.

Since the advent of Blairite Thatcherism we’ve been stuck with two Tory parties to choose from. I can only assume that all aspiring candidates should choose their party on the basis of whom they believe will best advance their political career. (Stuff the country – what about my job!)


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A further blog posting for today, K...K...K...K...Katie, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

Mechanical Breaks

Saturday morning was a time to break the relative silence of the garden with a bit of mechanical intrusion. Both strimmer and hedge trimmer, which share a common electrical lead, fortunately making it impossible to wield both simultaneously, were brought out of hibernation, the more efficiently to perform the decapitation of meadow grass, trees and hedgerows. Actually decapitation is not quite the right word, rather a productive mutilation.

Only later were the loppers brought into action, as I started to prune back some of the topmost prolific growth on the largest of our fruit trees. To my own surprise, and that of my beloved, I had actually started this travail at a time, 10.00am, when I would normally still be ensconced in the duvet lair.

It’s always something of a mystery that, the cutting back of vegetative growth should in fact enable stronger and fuller growth the following season. A couple of hours of exertion and perspiration later, I decided (to my wife’s relief) that it wouldn’t be very wise to attempt more. Even that couple of hours, I was later to discover, was sufficient to cause a (relievedly) minor setback; this “pacing” game is never as easy to manage as one would suppose. I so frequently make the mistake of comparing my current stamina output with that of a few short years ago. I’ve got to admit that the exertion initially makes me feel good, and I do so enjoy looking after the garden, but I never like the repercussions.

When one has spent a considerable amount of time in a numbingly aching fatigued state, it makes a pleasant change to be able to blame a particular bout of activity for some of the more extremely painful exhaustion. Fortunately my bounce-back time seems more efficient these days; the pacing is working after all!

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This budding remote control helicopter pilot continues to make progress, replacement propeller blades being less frequently required. Training is temporarily on hold as I await the delivery of a couple of tail-frame assemblies, the current one being fractured in four places. It’s amazing how many obstacles one has to try and avoid within the confines of ones garden.

Mal murmurs on avian matters

Todays blog posting, STAKING A CLAIM, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

For further recent postings (poetry), don't forget to visit 'ARCHIVE MINED and FRESHLY SPUN' and 'MAL's FACTORY'

FREE BURMA

Dylan Patrello

Just wanted to share this video.

Congratulations Sir Terry

So, Sir Terence of Wogan has been voted the BBC Radio2 Ultimate Icon of the past forty years

And some people have the gall to accuse the media of dumbing down?

Makes you think.

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For those of you beyond our islands shoreline, I should point out that without the presence of Sir Terry the world would be a place in which we encountered wars, terrorist threats, inequalities, floods …. indeed the list is endless.

Had Wogan not been grasped from the very jaws of Radio Telefís Éireann then we would all probably have no idea that such greatness could exist this side of heaven.

Ein kleines nachtdenken

How does one explain an awareness of being unaware, a drifting within a static void, a painless ache; why, indeed, should one want to capture and explain such an undeserved and undesirable experience? Perhaps it’s the desire to simply interpret a non-experience in such a way that life makes sense. It’s not so much a dark night of the soul as a plenum void!

The moment is everything and yet feels like the very antithesis of anything, a sense of detachment from daily (or any) reality. Why do I use words? Because they’re there; maybe that’s the reason why!

Follow up

A follow up posting, to the one immediately below, can be found on 'Mal's Murmuring' - If you can't stand the aches ... get into the kitchen.

Return of the hammer wielding fiends

Once more the wielders of the lead cored, matted felt, lump hammers are on the rampage. Yesterdays aches, and nagging bruised feeling in the armpits, are now accompanied by a bruised sensation in limbs and torso; even my head has not escaped the fiends’ nocturnal havoc! To be honest, my head feels as if it has been swathed in blankets with the occasional tourniquet applied around temples, eyes, ears and jaw-line.

A sharp spasmodic cramping pain in the right lower limb plays counterpoint to the dull aching shoulders and upper limbs. For a few days the discomforting throbbing armpit has been doing its darnedest to make me forget the progress I’ve been making during 2007. For the first time in many months, the helping presence of my beloved was essential as I showered this morning and, a little rest period following this dowsing imposed itself upon me.

I trust that this minor setback will be swiftly overcome; perhaps it’s simply a belated reaction to the drained resources of physical and emotional stamina consequent upon my recent holiday excursion. Falling falteringly asleep mid-afternoon, in recent days, was quite probably the hammer wielders warning signal.

At least these dully throbbing visitations are not recurring with the same frequency nor, hopefully, of such sustained duration, as was my lot in earlier times.

Mal's Passion

Today's blog posting, A TALE OF PASSION, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.