Adversity always brings out the best in people, and I am lucky in having a lot of friends with a good sense of humour.  After we went into the first lockdown in March, I shared some of that humour with you – some light, some a bit dark, and some just plain daft.  But it all brightened the long days in isolation.

So, now that we are back to the future, so to speak, it is time for episode two.  It will run until this latest aberration is supposed to end in four weeks’ time, or whenever it finally extends to.  Regardless, let’s hope it’s the last episode!
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So, when the time comes to sidle off this mortal coil, the very least any living being might hope for is a small plaque physically-fixed somewhere on their home planet to mark that they actually existed for a relatively-fleeting moment of its history – and that they meant something to the someone who took the time to mark their memory for posterity.

But what if, sometime in the future, someone else completely unconnected with either party, decides that the very name that being was known by, the essence of their identity, has become offensive to future sensibilities?  Will that being’s plaque simply be removed from existence, thus cancelling them forever?  Well, that is what has just happened to the dog who was the wartime mascot of the RAF’s famous 617 Squadron – The Dambusters. Continue Reading

I am British born and bred.  I am male. I have a belief.  I respect democracy.  I am law-abiding.  I am heterosexual. I am a pensioner.  I have underlying health issues.  I value all lives.  I am white.  I no longer matter

I was brought up by working class parents who taught me to respect all people regardless of their gender, creed, ethnicity, orientation or political opinions.  They both served in WW2 to give me, and you, our freedom.  I have always practiced what I was taught, and continue to do so.  I passed that teaching to my children, which they have followed and will pass to theirs.  But I no longer matter.  Neither do they. Continue Reading