I’m sure every decent citizen of Britain was appalled this morning to hear of the police error that led to a young lad of 16 being effectively handed over to the mob he’d given evidence against following his witnessing of some horrible gang violence.
Apparently the case came to the attention of the BBC after they discovered that the lad’s name and address had been given by the police to THE GANG! And yet on the news this morning they described it as inadvertent. Surely this is utter lunacy?
It has wrecked the lives of the family as they have had to be given new identities, new homes, consequently needing new jobs, and will have to live a lie for the rest of their lives. And that’s aside from the horrendous expense. They have been given £550k in compensation and £50k costs, but that’s just scraping the surface I suspect. And what’s £550k worth against completely starting your life from scratch, and the fear that the situation is bound to create.
I lay fuming in bed listening to the story this morning. To me the worse part of the whole thing is that it wrecks people’s confidence and will make others even more reluctant to even admit to knowing anything let alone giving evidence in court against people they know to be dangerous, lawless and ruthless. It takes a strong person to stand up in front of someone and say they saw that person commit a crime, in the knowledge that the criminal may not be convicted, and even if they do go down, how long will they be locked up for?
And yesterday the beleaguered business secretary finally laid out his plans to restrict executive pay.
And what a lash up it is!
It’s a chalice indeed this one. There is doubtless deep dissatisfaction in the country about the completely crazy amounts some of the bosses are being paid, but how do you work it out? Can you just work on a multiplier on the lowest salary? Or perhaps of the average? The lowest is unlikely to have any responsibility and no worry, so how do you quantify the difference between them and the person at the top? Perhaps the company average could make sense? When I was consulting at The Co-operative I’d guess the average salary in head office was something like £30k, the then chief executive was pulling around a million. So a 30 x multiplier. Would he have done the job for half a million? Probably. So does that mean they were wasting half a million a year on one guy? Probably.
And how funny that the guys trying to sort out the situation are all on less than a £100k. Hard luck Vince.
Last night I spent far too long in a place called The Bar in Chorlton with my mate Carla who was bursting with excitement over a fellow she’d met through the Parship dating site. I dearly like Carla, and yes, I would, and so I’m dead chuffed for her, but I didn’t really want to know just how wonderful this fellow is. It left me feeling like a bit stuck in the mud. So I just drank too much as she wittered on. Bless!
And now as a consequence the grey of the day suits the grey of my mood.
It leaves me fuming listening to the parlimentarians shouting and braying at each other most of the time.
We’re in the shit. Deep, deep in the shit. And it can’t help having the opposition tearing apart every proposal that is put forward. I truly don’t know why anyone would go into politics these days.
It leaves me wondering whether a similar position existed back in the 30s and that was what allowed someone like Hitler to come to power. He was dangerous, maligned, and generally bloody awful, but he at least offered an alternative and that was what the Germans may have been desperate for at that time.
But last night young Ed finally came out in support of DC on the Scottish question saying what a waste it would be to break up the Union. I fully agree. And I think DC was shocked, not quite into silence though.
Then the Scots came out and said that the state of their banks is England’s problem!
How rich is that?
In fact it’s a bloody good job I’m not involved in politics, I couldn’t just sit back and let such insanity go on around me. I’d have to go extreme and at the moment I don’t know which way that extremity would take me. I’m naturally left leaning, but that doesn’t seem to be the answer just now.
This morning there was more talk about what needs to happen regarding the NHS.
I was pretty dozy and didn’t get the chance to go back and listen again, but there was talk of making patients responsible for keeping their own health records in an effort to reduce the amount of admin being undertaken by nurses.
Now in a lot of ways I like the idea. I believe we should all be more responsible for our own lives, even if not our destinies, but then on the other i love watching Shameless. Can someone please sit Andrew Landsley in front of an episode of that and then ask him whether he thinks it might be a good idea? Couldn’t the whole thing just be put online and give us all a PIN code? Inputting 60 million records would keep a whole lot of people employed for ages wouldn’t it?
Blimey, I’m not sure giving me the space to blog is good for my blood pressure sometimes – I love a rant and it gets me nicely hot under the collar, it saves Mrs G having to listen too, so it’s good in that way I suppose. I’m actually talking to 34sp about wordpress hosting for work purposes soon, I need to learn a heck of a lot before a client meeting next month when I’ll be suggesting that they blog a lot more as a commercial venture rather than just a load of thoughts like mine is here.
I think I’m due a fat rant. Totally hypocritical of course as I carry a bit too much weight myself, but hopefully I’m not about to become a burden on the state as a consequence.
What is it with people that they think it’s acceptable to just chuck their Christmas tree out on the street when they’re done with it?
There are various places the council have nominated as pick up points. The information is easy to find online. And the trees will be chipped and used again as mulch.
Yet they’re just tossed outside of their houses as if the bin men are expected to bother their holes picking them up. Blimey, you’re lucky if the bin men collect the bloody bins it seems.
I’d like to just go down the street with my (imaginary) well trained doberman and toss the offending trees back into their gardens. But then I am an arsy old git at times I admit. And grumpy too it seems, as we didn’t even have a tree this year. Didn’t really see the point as we spent most of Christmas at Lou’s place down in Cornwall.
We’re having real scutter/comfort food tonight for tea. Scampi and chips, sat in front of the TV (absolutely against the house rules) watching The Devil Wears Prada. Crap sounding film but I’m so tired any entertainment will have to be low key.
As for the chips. I’ve been against oven chips most of my life, but love McCain’s French Fries.
I might even be allowed to have baked beans.
United 3 City 2. How about that then?
Yes, National Health? The question mark says a lot doesn’t it?
I’m only in my early forties, but I’ve never known the country to be as low as it is now.
I guess I was too young to really understand the Winter of Discontent back in the seventies when it seemed like most of the country was either on strike or on a three day week because there wasn’t enough work to go around.
But this note isn’t about history, it’s about now. Young Cameron is talking about putting the patient at the heart of the NHS.
What?
Like that’s supposed to be a new idea?
What the hell is going on?
I dread the idea of going to hospital, and worry like mad when mother had to go last year. It’s probably not as bad as we’re led to believe, but hell. Bring me a quick death any day rather than a spell in hospital.
Make us take out insurance perhaps like the Americans. I don’t know if that could work. i don’t know how those with no money would cope, but we can’t carry on funding a beast like the NHS surely.
However no matter what solution we reach please don’t let me hear any more about the patient being at the heart of it all. Just do it for heaven’s sake.
As I lie in bed in the mornings listening to the radio I regularly pick out the new cliches, and hope I don’t get trapped by them, though of course it’s difficult when people around you are picking up on a word or phrase. Actually there was one dropped then – good copy writers will do their best to avoid using ‘of course’.
I’m interested in ‘systemic’.
By my thinking it means something that is present right through the subject, and generally used to describe a companies failings.
But what’s interesting is how it has come to the fore of late. I think I first noticed it when the Met Police Force was under review and was accused of being institutionally racist. Systemic prejudice. Ah, and there’s another – institutional issues, they’re new too.
You may say “So what?”, and that’s a fair reaction, but I would like to drive us away from the traps of following the herd. It’s a nice idea, but it’s a lot easier said that done.
Mrs G just had a glance over my shoulder. I’m flattered that she has paid any attention to what I might be doing. Her reaction though was just to tell me to take a day off and let people come out with whatever blox happens to flow forth from their mouths.
Perhaps. Just for Christmas?
Over the past few days I’ve been to Birmingham and into Manchester towns, both on social visits. Last night we collected some friends from the station who were going to see Coldplay at the MEN Arena. We had a couple of hours before the gig which wasn’t enough to make it worthwhile going back to our place then back into town so we strolled through the German Markets that now seem to line every available space in Manchester. We ate at Wagamama’s in Spinningfields before getting them to the MEN with instructions to get the tram home later.
Flick back two days to Birmingham. There some of my old team mates met up for an evening of a few beers and food, no real plan other than to meet at the Moose Bar, in the German Markets. It was bloody freezing, with occasional drips of a threatening shower, and absolutely rammed with people! You couldn’t move, getting to the bar was an achievement in itself.
At that bar you then had to pay a £3 deposit for your glass (saves them getting broken, and actually very sensible, but makes for a scary first round of £26 – for four!).
But what I want to know on the topic is – what’s the attraction? And why on earth can’t we satisfy this demand ourselves? Do we feel that the Germans actually need the last of our hard earned cash?
As Mrs G left this morning she joking asked, “Are you striking today dear?”, knowing that it who raise a smile.
While she asked in jest, she has an interesting point regarding the forced inaction of all those who supply any business, let alone all the parents who can’t suddenly find child care and so need to take a day’s holiday.
I do understand the deep unrest that the situation has caused, and being told you’ll need to work extra years is a hell of a thing, indeed many get up in arms at the thought of working an extra hour at the end of a busy day. But how interesting it is that these are the folk who, by and large, work pretty fixed hours, take good holidays and have a good degree of job security. Those in the private sector generally have much less security, less holidays and what’s most important, have seen their final salary pensions replaced by defined contributions – meaning that there may be nothing there at all after a lifetime of work.
The pension was designed when men lived to about 70 and any older was truly an achievement. It should come as no surprise that some renegotiation is necessary in the new age of age meaning so much less.
Get a grip folk. You have jobs, that are secure, and well paid, don’t try to hold the country to ransom for something that is near impossible to give (without ever more borrowing).
I know I’ve ranted in the past about verbal tics and almost named a couple of friends – Mr PH I have to say… and Mr C As it were… both of whom still maintaining their tics years after I noted them as above on my phone.
I was therefore delighted this morning when Humphreys had someone on the Today programme to rant about misuse of “So” to start a sentence.
I had some American guests in Manchester a couple of weeks back who were even worse at it than the Brits.
Want a few others to watch / listen out for?
How about “At the end of the day”.
“Going forward”.
“Paradigm shift”
Any perversion of unique – totally unique, almost unique – or in fact qualifying any superlative.
“Hear me when I say”. That’s one that should be rewarded by a punch on the speaker’s nose.
Imagine being Mrs G and being picked up every time you accidentally utter a cliche or fall into some habit trap.
I promise that I do my utter best to avoid doing so myself.