Malta is a lovely country. Or State as we now have to call it now it’s joined the EU. Funny how names change without you really noticing. I think we all know what a State is. The USA has 50 of them I believe. We all know what a State is not. A country. So its goodbye Malta, the independent country that fought so valiantly in the 2nd World War.
I’ve just been there. One of the most amazing things is the low level of crime and disorder. Apart from the areas they have specially set aside for people from the UK where they go and do all the things they think will amuse the local population. Not realising they are being looked at with scorn and pity. For the islands that make up Malta don’t know crime the way we do. A car break in was reported in banner headlines in the Malta Times.
So why are they so crime free? A few observations. Families eat together. On the balcony, the street. Even the beach is covered in the dusk with extended families all enjoying time together. Almost every night. Now, I know local climatic conditions make that possible. Their TV out-put doesn’t inspire staying to watch it either. But is there some secret there. Here, in the UK, it’s all TV dinners in front of mega plasma screens with food bought out the supermarket, probably processed.
One of the fears of the Maltese I talked to is that many of the bad traits that exist in Europe will steadily creep into Malta. Open borders and single currency may have their benefits. But they bring a whole new set of problems. They think they are seeing the first signs of it already. Hopefully joining the EC will not be the beginning of the end for a little bit of this world that lives on common sense, a strong sense of family ties and values and has little crime to write home about.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Red phone box
Earlier this year while on holiday in Cornwall I took a trip to Boscastle. Which brings me to question one. Name Boscastle ring any bells? Ah yes the place that was nearly washed away in floods a few years back. I remember the coverage. Wall to wall. Screen to screen. Paper to paper.
Now, question two. What famous telephone box nearly got washed away in a mud slide caused by torrential rain? If you were listening to the news on BBC Radio Four or indeed viewing it on any of the news outlets south of the border you probably haven’t a clue what I’m on about. Pennan is a beautiful little village up on the north east coast of Scotland. The telephone box was the one in the wonderful film “Local Hero”. Both nearly ended up in the sea after the afore mentioned mud slide.
It also happens to be 600 miles from London. Which is probably why no one south of the border knows about it. Which is a shame. Because if they are operating in the spirit of impartiality, we won’t be getting the wall to wall coverage we recently had again of flooding in parts of England next time they happen. Sad that.
Now, question two. What famous telephone box nearly got washed away in a mud slide caused by torrential rain? If you were listening to the news on BBC Radio Four or indeed viewing it on any of the news outlets south of the border you probably haven’t a clue what I’m on about. Pennan is a beautiful little village up on the north east coast of Scotland. The telephone box was the one in the wonderful film “Local Hero”. Both nearly ended up in the sea after the afore mentioned mud slide.
It also happens to be 600 miles from London. Which is probably why no one south of the border knows about it. Which is a shame. Because if they are operating in the spirit of impartiality, we won’t be getting the wall to wall coverage we recently had again of flooding in parts of England next time they happen. Sad that.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Give us this day our daily bread
I’m not sure if it is one of these great urban myths or not, but the story of the school child when asked where milk comes from answers with out hesitation, Tesco, is well known. Well, technically they were correct of course. Or you could have said Asda, Co-op, your local corner shop or where ever. But it does belie a certain lack of understanding as to where our food comes from.
This ignorance was highlighted during this weekend when the dreaded foot and mouth disease reared its ugly head again.
One person that was described as an economic expert noted that farming in the UK accounted for less than 5% of GDP and therefore as they were not a dominant player in the over all scheme of things, who cared if a bunch of them went out of business.
In a way, this expert was as devoid of intellectual understanding as the child.
Sitting at breakfast, corn flakes with milk, toast, butter and jam. Then lunch, gammon steaks, potatoes, vegetables. Then supper. Light snack of cold cooked meats and cheese.
Clothes, wool jacket and trousers, leather shoes. And the list goes on. There are very few essentials in life that do not come from agriculture.
So I would like that expert to go away and do without any agricultural produce for just one day. I suspect even after 24 hours he would realise what 2/3 of the world already know. With out agriculture you starve. They may be only 5% of GDP. But they are 100% necessary for our survival.
This ignorance was highlighted during this weekend when the dreaded foot and mouth disease reared its ugly head again.
One person that was described as an economic expert noted that farming in the UK accounted for less than 5% of GDP and therefore as they were not a dominant player in the over all scheme of things, who cared if a bunch of them went out of business.
In a way, this expert was as devoid of intellectual understanding as the child.
Sitting at breakfast, corn flakes with milk, toast, butter and jam. Then lunch, gammon steaks, potatoes, vegetables. Then supper. Light snack of cold cooked meats and cheese.
Clothes, wool jacket and trousers, leather shoes. And the list goes on. There are very few essentials in life that do not come from agriculture.
So I would like that expert to go away and do without any agricultural produce for just one day. I suspect even after 24 hours he would realise what 2/3 of the world already know. With out agriculture you starve. They may be only 5% of GDP. But they are 100% necessary for our survival.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Boris for Mayor. Or Ken. Who cares!!!
It looks like it may actually be an election that makes us laugh, smile, cry or cheer. The race for The Mayoral seat in London has begin, all be it as a trailer for the real thing. Opinion polls, these wonderfully reliable gauges of public opinion actually had Boris ahead in one. How exciting is that! A blip? A trend? Who knows. In a sense, who cares because ultimately only one vote will count. What we lovingly call democracy will have its way and one candidate will rise above the rest to be duly elected. Democracy, the suppressing of the minority by the majority. Oh how cynical of me.
But not half as cynical as Dawn Butler and Diane Abbott, Labour MPs for Brent South and Hackney North respectively. They already have played the “race” card. And all because Boris, in his inimitable fashion, used some rather quaint phrases. By no stretch of the imagination could they be called racist phrases. That is unless you see racism in every corner. (Just don’t ask for black tea!)
I recall not so long ago sitting on a Government committee on ethnic businesses and the need to integrate them into the “main stream”. On the evidence presented to us, one of the key issues for the particular community we were looking at was the lack of ability to speak English by a fair number of the business owners.
Now, if you are like me, you seek solutions to problems. The logical solution to me was to get the Home Office to fund a pilot programme to give intensive support to these businesses in the form of English language courses, all paid for by us the tax payer. It would at one stroke have given the poor English speakers an open door to the whole UK economy.
Sensible? Oh no it wasn’t! One chap nearly jumped over the table at me and shouted in my face that I was “a racist”! “They”, (he was referring to the largely European business community that existed in that particular part of town), “have to come to us and understand us”. Incidentally, it was at that series of meetings that I first realised the extent of the “race” industry. On many fronts, it wasn’t about getting equality. It was about getting separate development. Openly talked about were different accounting systems, different legal systems for businesses, different education systems for the children, different banking laws. I think in South Africa they called that apartheid. And there was me thinking that the UK was becoming a melting pot for all cultures and creeds. It was revealed to be far from it and getting further from it as the years go by. What different worlds we lived in.
So Butler and Abbot may, like my friend on the committee who introduced his own rather objectionable defination of what racisim is, be in danger of themselves introducing racism in to the debate by effectively saying that they are the judges of what language is racist and what is not.
Frankly, I think the people of London are too sensible to listen to such strident nonsense from these two.
But not half as cynical as Dawn Butler and Diane Abbott, Labour MPs for Brent South and Hackney North respectively. They already have played the “race” card. And all because Boris, in his inimitable fashion, used some rather quaint phrases. By no stretch of the imagination could they be called racist phrases. That is unless you see racism in every corner. (Just don’t ask for black tea!)
I recall not so long ago sitting on a Government committee on ethnic businesses and the need to integrate them into the “main stream”. On the evidence presented to us, one of the key issues for the particular community we were looking at was the lack of ability to speak English by a fair number of the business owners.
Now, if you are like me, you seek solutions to problems. The logical solution to me was to get the Home Office to fund a pilot programme to give intensive support to these businesses in the form of English language courses, all paid for by us the tax payer. It would at one stroke have given the poor English speakers an open door to the whole UK economy.
Sensible? Oh no it wasn’t! One chap nearly jumped over the table at me and shouted in my face that I was “a racist”! “They”, (he was referring to the largely European business community that existed in that particular part of town), “have to come to us and understand us”. Incidentally, it was at that series of meetings that I first realised the extent of the “race” industry. On many fronts, it wasn’t about getting equality. It was about getting separate development. Openly talked about were different accounting systems, different legal systems for businesses, different education systems for the children, different banking laws. I think in South Africa they called that apartheid. And there was me thinking that the UK was becoming a melting pot for all cultures and creeds. It was revealed to be far from it and getting further from it as the years go by. What different worlds we lived in.
So Butler and Abbot may, like my friend on the committee who introduced his own rather objectionable defination of what racisim is, be in danger of themselves introducing racism in to the debate by effectively saying that they are the judges of what language is racist and what is not.
Frankly, I think the people of London are too sensible to listen to such strident nonsense from these two.
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