The Lady's for Turning

 

With more spins than a child’s gyroscope on a Christmas morning, Liz Truss’s premiership is looking decidedly revolutionary, but only in relation to the number of its U-turns.  There are, however, two changes of heart that she has not yet made, which are a worrying sign of what may follow given her adherence to a flawed ideology.

 

The first is her bizarre decision to intervene on King Charles’ appearance at COP27.  The King is a life-long advocate for green issues, to prevent him from attending the conference is an unnecessary interference and, to paraphrase the words of her predecessor, is spaffing Britain’s soft power up the proverbial wall.  As Prime Minister Truss sets about dismantling the power that the UK enjoys, you’d think she’d at least want to preserve some of it with an easy win.  What one doesn’t know is whether the intervention stems from the influence of lobbyists or her ideological position for maintaining small government.  Possibly I am being unkind.  Perhaps she is simply worried that Charles will talk to delegates in the same way that he talks to his plants, or worse, those who fill his fountain pens.

 

The second issue is of far greater concern.  In the seemingly endless Tory leadership hustings, Liz Truss was adamant that she was the strongest advocate of minimal government intervention, a laudable argument when exercised judiciously.  A government that permits its citizens unfettered choices in day-to-day activities is welcome, most of us like our freedoms preserved.  Equally, entrusting decisions to devolved administrations or local authorities to reflect what best suits each community is a preferable state.  However, dogmatically sticking to such principles, when arguably an intervention is warranted, is not the demonstration of strength that Liz Truss appears to believe.

 

Truss has intervened to prevent a public information programme designed to encourage responsible energy use and practical tips to reduce consumption.  That Jacob Rees-Mogg, Honourable Member for the 18^th Century, proposed the initiative, makes it even more remarkable that Truss should think it too ‘woke’ to proceed, especially given his previous role in government as Minister for Rogering the Peasantry.  Having announced the plan, the Department for Business, Energy, and Industrial Strategy had to immediately withdraw the initiative on the basis that our Prime Minister believes “the country does not need its government telling it what to do.”  While libertarians may consider the policy commendable, it points to a wider concern – the rigid adherence to a dogma, rather than introducing a communication strategy that will benefit the country.  In these straightened times, when fuel bills are advancing at unprecedented rates and energy security is at risk, it is a sensible measure to provide information to the citizenry that will lessen energy demand.  Notwithstanding, it is a communication exercise, not a statutory directive, we will still have the freedom to make our own decisions regarding energy use.

 

A public information campaign is a responsible action for our government to take.  Not issuing guidance misses the opportunity to educate the nation in practical measures to ease the pressure on energy resources for the sake of appearances (which as her Instagram account illustrates, is singularly important).  Truss will argue that it is what she promised in her leadership campaign, albeit she’s rapidly developing a track record of dispensing with commitments faster than Elon Musk can change his mind about Twitter ownership.  Not that we should be surprised, her history demonstrates a politician with a chameleonic character.

 

Her dogmatism in limiting government intervention does lead to concerns as it relates to recent history.  We are emerging from a global pandemic in which government intervention was critical to addressing the spread of the virus.  Those governments that were more interventionist were considerably more successful in containing the disease.  By contrast, those countries whose leaders preferred a more libertarian approach, including Trump, Modi, Bolsonaro, and Johnson, presided over some of the worst death tolls on the planet.  Of course, ‘libertarian’ is being kind, it was arrogance and apathy that prevailed in their administrations, and vast numbers paid the ultimate price for their hubris.

 

With Truss adopting a rigid policy of non-intervention during the energy crisis, what can we expect from her in the event of another pandemic – a rigid belief that the public would know best what to do and should not suffer dictate from Government?  I would hope not, but it is a worrying prospect.  It makes sense that a responsible government would act appropriately to protect its citizens in the event of a pandemic.  Equally, one could argue that a responsible government would inform its people of measures to reduce fuel consumption during an energy crisis.  Truss clinging to her ideology demonstrates an astonishing lack of responsibility and a disregard for the most vulnerable.  Let us remember that we are discussing a public relations exercise as opposed to a policy directive.  At the end of it, we are still at liberty to choose what we do – she hasn’t yet curtailed that right.  If Liz Truss’s dogma prevents her from making coherent decisions regarding measures to avoid excess energy use, God help us if she is still in office should another pandemic hit.

 

 

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2022
12 October 2022

What is White Privilege?

I saw a Tweet during the week in which comedian Nathan Caton undertook the ‘Check your privilege’ test, lowering his fingers in response to an audio clip featuring some of the systemic racism that black people face.  Check out his reaction at 51 seconds when he’s run out of fingers and the narrative continues.

Now do the test.

How many fingers do you have left?  I had 10, which I achieved by ignoring the teasing that I get from friends for being a Kiwi.  I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count.  It was a salutary lesson in what so many of us white people fail to understand and an illustration of why those responding to the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter with their indignant ‘All Lives Matter’, really don’t get it.  That’s White Privilege

Another comedian, Mark Steel, writing in the Independent provided an analogy that summed it up rather well.

“there are people who object to the slogan ‘Black Lives Matter’, making the reasonable point that “ALL lives matter ACTUALLY.”  They make a good point, as long as you ignore the fact that obviously all lives matter, but clearly many people, including armed police, don’t think black lives do matter.  It’s like ringing for an ambulance after a heart attack, and being told, “Why are YOU so important, surely ALL hearts matter?”

I don’t consider myself to be racist, and I’m not, overtly.  However, I’ve just written a screenplay and, in my mind, I had a clear vision of the characters I was writing.  Admittedly, I didn’t dig too deep for inspiration.  It was a cast largely plucked from a Richard Curtis movie: Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Emma Thompson, Renée Zellweger, Rowan Atkinson, Kristen Scott Thomas – you get the picture.  The problem though, is that they’re all too old, and dare I say it – white.  Its conception illustrates my unconscious biases, that a white upper middle-class demographic would fill the roles.  It’s a subtle form of racism; a 50-year-old-man penning a trope that reinforces an embedded stereotype.  I failed to see it as an issue, and therein lies the problem.  For so many of us, it’s not.  That’s White Privilege.

It wasn’t until I submitted my screenplay for professional scrutiny to The Black List that I was challenged to think about the composition of the cast.  The website has a section that invites details on each character including gender, age, and race.  Until then, I hadn’t confronted the ethnicity of the characters.  Their ages are important, so too is their wealth, but they could be from any ethnic background – it’s immaterial.  My prejudices had coloured my thinking, if not my cast.  That’s White Privilege.

I reflected on the cast of ‘Hamilton’; Lin-Manuel Miranda’s brilliant musical telling the story of one of America’s founding fathers.  It is an outstanding production with a fabulously diverse cast that play the parts of white historic figures, deliberately so.  At no point during the watching of the show did I even consider that the casting was flawed because the actors weren’t white.  Frankly, it was performed by an exceptional cast and is a supreme performance which is delightfully colour-blind.  There is no need for the characters to be played by white actors.  What the show needs, and what it has, are the absolute BEST actors; a requirement that should be adopted in many more walks of life.  But it’s not.  That’s White Privilege.

That may lead some angry white men to complain that affirmative action is discriminating against them, denying them their privilege.  I almost joined them when I heard an interview with a literary agent who suggested that right now, it’s not a good time to be a white, middle-aged, heterosexual male writer if you’re trying to break into the industry.  Woe is me.  I determine a career change to pursue my dream to find, after hundreds of years of publishing being controlled by my demographic, that the odds are against me.  At least, that’s the excuse I can use if my novels and screenplays continue to gather dust.  Heaven forbid I should think they remain unpublished for any other reason like, for instance, they’re not good enough.  That’s White Privilege.

Instead of feeling aggrieved or bemused, we white folks need to take conscious and conspicuous action if we’re to dismantle the implicit racism that exists with White Privilege.  We probably don’t have to think, as John Boyega did following his impassioned speech in Hyde Park recently, that his words about the injustices that black people are facing may result in backlash from the moguls in his industry.  Would a white person face the same risks?  Listening to his address, I don’t know why any of what he said would result in censure – but then, I’m a white man, so why would I?  That’s White Privilege.

As it happens, John Boyega just about fits the age profile that I need for my characters, so if he’s interested, there’s a role for him – and he can decide who he wants to play, although perhaps the story’s entitled arsehole should be played by a white man.  Of course, whether it gets produced is another matter altogether.  I think it’s brilliant, but then it’s written by a middle-aged white man and the cards really are stacked against me.  That’s not White Privilege, that’s just delusion.

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2020

05 June 2020

Attempting the impossible

Happy New Year.  I’m a couple of weeks late, but as these are the GOM in Training’s first mutterings of 2020, I’m sticking that out there.

Given the turning of the year, I’ve come up with a couple of resolutions which, as of today, I’m almost managing to keep.  They’re different to anything I’ve proposed before.  The first, which is NOT to interfere with other folk’s barbecues, saw some early challenges in the first three days of the year.  These were spent in New Zealand, where a barbecue occurred on each of those days.  I left Anthony, Bella and JP, and Mike to do their thing.  Each was superb: Ant’s effort, unencumbered by my contribution, was excellent.  I allowed the view over the Orewa River and out into the Hauraki Gulf to distract me whilst he grilled a feast.  That same Gulf, but from a different perspective on Waiheke Island, distracted me again as Bella’s butter and thyme drenched Pipis opened in all their gloriousness on the hotplate, a perfect starter to precede her Dad’s effort, JP demonstrating expertise of his own.  Back on the mainland, Mike’s swift breakfast barbie the following morning served as our final treat before heading back to Blighty.

Here in the northern hemisphere, winter has us in its grip; outdoor cooking opportunities are rare, but this Saturday, a friend’s firing up his Weber as part of his wife’s birthday celebrations.  He’s English, so could probably do with some help, but I’ll resist.  He has shown reasonable form when turning a snag, so I’ll let him have his tongs.  If I budge in, it may engender foul language; he’s a man of the cloth so it wouldn’t do to put temptation in his path.

My other resolution is proving to be a mite more challenging.  “Be more like Ange” was my declaration on the eve of the New Year.  It’s a tall order.

I would suggest that Ange is like a whirling dervish, however, that would imply some form of chaos in her wake.  Not with her, quite the opposite, she’s a tornado of tidy.  When she flies around the house, order follows; it’s extraordinary.

I first noticed this on a visit to spend time with her and her husband, Shane, when they lived in Queenstown.  Queenstown’s a tourist mecca, there’s something for everyone, a discovery I made at the local tourist office as I garnered armfuls of brochures.  My plan was to review them when I returned to their house.  When I did, I popped them on the coffee table whilst I went to the loo.  Ange returned from work whilst I was out of the room, and when I got back, the brochures had vanished.  I momentarily questioned my sanity, then asked the obvious question.  “I’ve tidied them away,” she replied.  “Oh,” was all I managed.  I hadn’t realised they needed tidying.

On a subsequent visit for their wedding, we blokes; Shane, his best man, Dave, and I participated in the preparations by sitting down for an afternoon in front of the TV to watch the cricket.  The coffee table that had once briefly hosted a range of extreme activity brochures now supported our beers, each perched on the centre of a coaster, three corners of the table occupied.  In the fourth corner, an empty coaster sat, perfectly square to the sides of the table.  Ange, slightly more engaged in the wedding preparations than we were, fizzed around the house undertaking a variety of tasks.  “Watch this,” said Shane in a moment when she was out of the room.  He subtly shifted the fourth coaster, turning it so that it was no longer square.  The next time Ange whizzed by, she realigned it to the table without pausing as she passed.  “You do it,” said Shane when she was out of earshot, encouraging Dave.  He duly obliged.  So did Ange, once more restoring order on her next pass.
  “Your turn,” said Dave, drawing me into the plot.  I childishly participated, bolstered by Heineken-fuelled courage.  Ange, armed with freshly delivered flowers for the following day’s nuptials, straightened the coaster as she flew by again.  Shane rose to the challenge she’d unwittingly set, daring to move it a fourth time.
On her next approach she paused, hands on hips, glaring.  “I know what you’re doing,” she said.  “Leave it alone.”  Chastened, we complied.

This December we had the opportunity to spend more time with our friends and rather than disrupting the interior design through misappropriation of coasters, I chose instead to observe Ange in action.  Her tidying is immediate and breathtakingly swift.  I swear, if I’d chomped into a biscuit and an errant crumb were to break loose, she’d dispose of it before it hit the floor.  She’s a marvel.

So, my resolution, to be more like Ange, is an attempt to introduce a little more tidiness into my doings.  Mrs GOM is rightly sceptical, she’s experienced 25 years of the antithesis, so perhaps has justified reasons for doubt, but I have set off with aspirations.  From the centre of the kitchen, there is a four-foot radius where I’ve focused my attention.  Surfaces get wiped, dishes get washed and my usually chaotic efforts in meal preparation have a degree of order to them that was hitherto unknown.  It’s exhausting and I’m not sure the heightened activity will extend beyond its current scope.  That might demand attention in another room, the one to where I’ve been throwing the stuff from the kitchen.

I’m also trying to follow the example of immediacy and pace, but that’s possibly beyond my capability.  My frantic efforts create more mess than order; water is sloshed over work surfaces, discarded waste misses the bin and there is a real danger that crockery will meet an untimely demise, all of which creates additional work.  I’m not sure that Mrs GOM is impressed with my attempts, however, she’s welcoming the improvement, however mild.

I’ve tried to encourage Daughter of GOM (DofG) to join me on the crusade, however she’s too busy to participate, preferring instead not to empty her suitcase from the holiday.  Mrs GOM would argue that if ever there was evidence in favour of nature in the ‘nature versus nurture’ debate, when it comes to tidiness, DofG provides it; until that is, one considers that I’m her father.

Mrs GOM persists with her patience.  Mine, however, is being tested.  Dog of GOM (DoG), not to be confused with DofG, is not playing ball.  Or rather she is, discarding them, along with other remnants of her play and snacking about the house.  Ange’s dog knows better than to leave a toy discarded in a corner – it may never reappear. DoG, on the other hand, has taken to mass disruption, leaving bits all over the place in an effort to undermine my declaration and overwhelm me into submission.  I’m not giving up though, I’m going to convince DoG to join the effort and adopt more appropriate behaviour.  She’s bound to be easier to train than DofG.  That said, as I write, I can hear DoG shredding an envelope that she has purloined from the recycling bin beneath my desk.  My failure to notice this egregious act may illustrate that my resolutions are doomed to failure.

Maybe I will dig out my tongs for the forthcoming weekend, you know, just to spare the Englishman his blushes.


Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2020
17 January 2020

Don’t trust the technology

We recently signed up to a new gym.  Fancy place, fully digitised and tech heavy.  I have been asked repeatedly whether I wear a pacemaker.  I think that has less to do with my health and more to do with buggering up their electronics.  I suspect if I had one, I’d be encouraged to focus more on the analogue equipment.

One bit of kit that caught my eye was the Boditrax, a glorified set of scales that carries the by-line “beyond body composition”.  I’m not sure what that means; beyond composition suggests decomposition to me and, although I’m not as fit as I’d like to be, I haven’t yet started to rot.

By standing on a platform and gripping its handles, Boditrax magically provides more information than a simple weight measurement.  It provides 14 different metrics including fat and muscle mass, skeletal and abdominal analysis, a physique classification and a metabolic age.

I’m tickled by the physique classification for the highest fat percentage and lowest muscle score.  Boditrax has opted for the politically correct “Hidden Obese”.  I’m not sure where people in that category will be hiding their fat, but it does conjure an image of veins popping from prolonged tummy tensing.  My measure provides me with an “Obesity Warning”, which presumably means that I need to do some exercise or start looking for hiding places.

I did think I was doing a little better than that reading implies, but there is clearly work to be done.  None more so than when it comes to addressing my metabolic age.  Mrs GOM stood on the machine before I did and, coming in at 16 years younger than her actual age, the machine confirmed what we all know, that she is brimming with youth.  By contrast, I am not.  I turn 50 next year, but according to Boditrax, four summers have passed since that mark was achieved, proving categorically, despite Mrs GOM’s assertions to the contrary, that you can’t trust technology.

Maybe the clever people at Boditrax should develop their system to incorporate a maturity index.  On that measure, I’d be sure to come in considerably below my years.

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2019
18 October 2019

The training is over

Credit: Gary Andrews (@GaryScribbler)

A friend recently remarked that I could perhaps lose the “in Training” element from my GOM in Training sobriquet.  It appears, he suggested, that I am now a fully qualified grumpy old man.  I think he has a point.  When reflecting on my most recent posts, I have become increasingly outraged at the political and social climate within which we live.  I didn’t intend for the GOMIT to become a political commentator; the plan was for something considerably more frivolous and light-hearted.

If my friend is right, and my training is complete, I have discovered that my chosen path is akin to a newly qualified doctor discovering that he or she doesn’t like blood.  I don’t like to be grumpy.  For a start, it’s exhausting.  Summoning the energy to rail at the world exacts a toll on my preferred optimistic state, where I’m much happier to exist.

Over the last week I’ve been quietly mulling what to do.  I could continue to scream into the void at our parlous world or revert to a more genteel form of moaning where daily trivialities, such as the baffling appeal of Snapchat to teenagers, or the growing trend to have jeans hover halfway down the wearer’s arse, assume a far greater magnitude than they should warrant.  These latter subjects provide a much greater opportunity to moan in mystification than in outrage, which is considerably better for mine, and everyone else’s wellbeing.

As well as the mainstream media, much of the grist to my GOM mill derives from Twitter and other forms of social media, where it is possible to find extremes of views which all too frequently lead to a competing vitriol, where it is possible to witness the “good people on both sides” become increasingly hostile toward one another and demonstrate the somewhat less savoury sides to their nature.  I cannot be too critical; I am in no position to cast that first stone.

However, as poisonous as Twitter can be, it also has redemptive voices; users who offer considerably healthier reading.  Moving forward, I am likely to spend a little more time following their tweets than the poison that spews forth from the grubby little thumbs of @realDonaldTrump and others.

Take Gary Andrews (@GaryScribbler) for instance, whose sketch appears at the top of this page (https://twitter.com/GaryScribbler/status/1177345226911944706).  Of that, he wrote:

Tough enough being at a new school without the extra burden of our circumstances - but I do like Lily’s solution. Finding a laugh when things get uncomfortable. It both breaks my heart that she has to go through this and makes it swell with pride at her bravery. #doodleaday.

Nearly 55,000 of us get to share Gary’s daily challenges and triumphs.  We are regularly treated to the unadulterated pride and love he has for his children, but occasionally, he will share poignant moments too, where he opens up to the grief he experiences following the death of his wife.  He’s a hero.

So too is Lin Manuel Miranda (@Lin_Manuel), probably best known as the creative genius behind the musical ‘Hamilton’, who operates at a seemingly inexhaustible pace as he leaps from project to project, whilst managing to tweet some wonderfully positive and often esoteric tweets.  One recently (https://twitter.com/Lin_Manuel/status/1177691534742949893) read simply:

Gmorning.

There’s a lot going on.

Take all the time you need.

It’s advice we could all do well to follow.

If you prefer your positivity in a more surreal form, then I suggest following the watermelon eating Thoughts of Dog (@dog_feelings).  His punctuation leaves a lot to be desired, but with 2.8 million followers, there are a lot of grammatically tolerant people out there who are treated every few days to a canine insight that will make you smile.  Take this little pearl (https://twitter.com/dog_feelings/status/1158060297044844545)

i know there’s bad in the world. and it would be silly. to pretend it isn’t there. but for now here’s my leash. and a few licks on your hand. to convince you that one day. we will be alright

Even if you don’t like dogs, it’s hard to argue that the dog’s account has a much rosier outlook on life than a huge number of the Twitteratti.

There are other reasons for me to refocus.  There are manuscripts that need some love and a creative canon that deserves nurturing considerably more than my expressions of anger.  I’ll continue to follow the maddening politics that dominate our culture and, no doubt, will periodically spew forth with my unwanted opinions.

In the meantime, however, I’m going to add some life to no one in particular, help a man restore a battered sloop and mull over a coach load of folks on their way to Albuquerque.

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2019
4 October 2019

Wonder Women

What a week.  It started well.  Greta Thunberg, the 16-year-old climate activist gave both barrels to world leaders at the UN Climate Action Summit.  In an impassioned speech, she called upon those same leaders to do more to address the issues facing our climate and the self-inflicted damage that we are doing to our environment.

Notably in her speech, she highlighted that they “have stolen my dreams and my childhood with [their] empty words.”  She’s right, she should be enjoying a childhood instead of having to implore politicians and businesses to do better, reminding them (and us all) that “we are in the beginning of a mass extinction and all you can talk about is money and fairy tales of eternal economic growth. How dare you.”

How dare you indeed.  President Trump attempted to patronise Thunberg by tweeting “She seems like a very happy young girl looking forward to a bright and wonderful future. So nice to see!”  His infantile attempt to ridicule her was trumped by Thunberg’s response.  She updated her twitter profile to read “A very happy young girl looking forward to a bright and wonderful future.”  Let’s hope she’s right, although I suspect that her childhood is lost to her as she becomes a heroine for our age, as has been evidenced by her profile reverting to the customary reminder of what she’s all about.[1]

On Tuesday, the UK learnt the news that its Government had acted unlawfully in proroguing Parliament.  The ruling was read by Lady Hale, President of the Supreme Court.  A nasty headline over a piece in the Mail Online read, “Ex-barmaid with a spider brooch who spun legal web that snared PM: ANDREW PIERCE on Supreme Court president Lady Hale”.  The headline is contemptible.  I just hope that most of the Mail’s readers will digest the full article, where we learn that Lady Hale read law at Girton College, Cambridge, where she graduated with a starred first; she taught law at Manchester University, and achieved the top results of her year when sitting the Bar exams.  She is a formidable proponent of equality and diversity and when she became a Law Lord, she opted for the motto on her coat of arms of ‘Omnia Feminae Aequissimae’ – ‘Women are equal to everything’.  But that headline … I hope Andrew Pierce has enough morality to be embarrassed and ashamed of it.

Lady Hale’s ruling follows the actions brought by equally inspiring women, Gina Miller and Joanna Cherry QC MP, in defence of this country’s parliamentary democracy.  They’re not only inspiring, but brave.  Gina Miller suffers much hatred on social media, an example of which was from Rhodri Philipps, the fourth Viscount St Davids, who wrote on Facebook that he would put up “£5,000 for the first person to ‘accidentally’ run over this bloody troublesome first-generation immigrant”.  The courts sentenced him to 12 weeks in jail for his abuse of Miller and ordered him to pay her £500 in compensation, unlikely to be enough to pay the weekly cost of the security that she probably needs for her protection.

In May, Joanna Cherry had police protection following abusive messages and death threats on social media.  The reason for this onslaught?  She had the temerity to quiz Twitter and Facebook bosses at Westminster over social media abuse of females.  Being acutely aware of what she was likely to face, she still had the courage to bring her action against the Government.  That takes balls, of which we should be reminded, she has none.

Later that day, news broke in the US that the Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, was launching an impeachment investigation into President’s Trump’s conversation with Ukrainian President, Volodymyr Zelensky, where it is alleged that Trump pressured the Ukrainian to come up with dirt on the business activities in his country of Hunter Biden, the son of former Vice President, Joe Biden.  Beforehand, Trump had suspended $400m in US military aid, purportedly presenting Zelensky with a choice: cough up on Biden or lose the aid.

Pelosi has been a tolerant voice in the calls from Democrats to begin impeachment proceedings against Trump.  Despite being repeatedly abused and harassed online by the President, she has resisted these calls.  Her action on this occasion is measured and considered.  It is also a reflection of her professionalism and dignity that she hasn’t been driven to act sooner out of spite for the man.

These talented and courageous women filled me with hope.  I went to bed on Tuesday night feeling that democracy and the rule of law was beginning to assert itself and that much of what is wrong with the world was being put right.  I should have known better; the shift isn’t remotely seismic.  Depressingly, it’s barely a tremor.

By Wednesday, the patriarchy had reasserted itself.  Having returned to Parliament, we witnessed the Attorney General, Geoffrey Cox; the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, Michael Gove; and finally, the Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, collectively pour scorn on the Supreme Court’s judgement, fail to show remorse for misleading Queen and country through the unlawful proroguing of parliament, and inciting further abuse through the use of pejorative language and insults in the House of Commons.

Politicians including Alison McGovern, Paula Sherriff, Anna McMorrin, Caroline Lucas, Karen Buck, Tracy Brabin, Rosie Duffield, Anna Soubry and Janet Daby sought to have the Prime Minister moderate his language so as not to incite more hatred and abuse, with Rosie Duffield reminding him that her colleague, Jo Cox, was violently killed while campaigning with her young family to remain in the EU.  The Prime Minister dismissed all their remarks, referring to Paula Sherriff’s observations as “humbug” and he disgracefully annexed Jo Cox’s memory by suggesting that the best way to honour her would be to get Brexit done.  His responses were incendiary, insensitive and deeply offensive.

Across the pond, meanwhile, Donald Trump resorted to his usual Twitter-fest to spread further hatred and dis-information against the Democrats, the Fake News and others that he despises, and after just 48 short hours, the flicker of hope I felt was replaced with the restoration of the toxic status quo.

There remains some cause for hope.  These powerful women, who are taking a stand against injustice and holding others accountable for their misdeeds, represent another step in the long overdue move towards gender balancing.  Regrettably, it is likely to take decades before the imbalance is addressed, but more will follow and with them, one can yearn for a day when their influence, and the efforts of decent and reasoned men, come together to diminish the toxicity in both our politics and our climate.  Until then, let’s hope the extremists that are exercising control over both today don’t irrevocably destroy what we’ve got.

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2019
27 September 2019

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[1] @GretaThunberg – 16 year old climate and environmental activist with Asperger’s  Join the global climate strikes on September 27th! #fridaysforfuture

What have we come to?

There’s an account on Twitter that recently posted the most horrifying video.  What’s horrifying is that it had to be made at all.  The comments that follow are enough to make you weep, if they haven’t already made you rage beyond belief.

You can find it here https://twitter.com/sandyhook/status/1174291982857883653

Despite what the NRA and Republican lawmakers would have you believe, proposed laws don’t destroy the protections afforded under the 2^nd Amendment of the Constitution.  They are sensible laws that will go some way towards addressing the epidemic of mass-shootings that engulfs the United States today.  No civilian should have any cause to own military grade assault weapons.  Outside of military conflict, I find it difficult to imagine a credible scenario that warrants the use of an assault rifle.

The House of Representatives Judiciary Committee has voted to approve three measures: a ‘red-flag’ bill (a law that permits police or family members to petition a court to order the temporary removal of firearms from a person presenting a danger to themselves or others), a ban on high-capacity magazines, and legislation to prohibit people convicted of violent hate crimes from possessing firearms.

Democratic Senator Chuck Schumer and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi are urging the Senate Majority Leader, Mitch McConnell, to bring background checks to the Senate floor.  They have also written to the President asking him to support universal background checks for all gun sales.

For his part, McConnell has stated in recent weeks that he will not allow a vote on any gun bill until President Trump has indicated what kind of legislation he is willing to sign, adding that he “wants to pass bills that will become law and that any push for gun control without Trump’s backing is theatrics”. 

Trump hasn’t been forthcoming with the details on what will be acceptable.  He has, however, stressed the need to protect gun owner rights.  

It’s time that Trump and McConnell pause in their politics to offer some bi-partisan leadership that begins to address the gun control crisis that exists in the United States today.  America’s children shouldn’t be learning gun drills, surely there are more important things for them to do, like being kids.

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2019
20 September 2019