Andy's Glasses

There’s loads of speeches at THE Labour Conference (I refuse to omit the definite article when talking of ‘conference’, even though everyone else does but I’ve never known why). And all the speeches are free. Once you’ve paid your exorbitant fee to attend, obviously. But the best ones, in terms of freedom are by the FSOI. That’s ‘Free Speech On Israel’ group. That’s not an outspoken endorsement of the Zionist state kind’a thing. In fact its the opposite. This group wants the ‘freedom’ to slag off Israel and Jews at every opportunity. Between the lines you can certainly read ‘without being accused of anti-semitism’. They want the right to use terms like ‘Nazis’ and ‘apartheid’ and ‘land grabbers’ with impunity. Without those constant accusations of antisemitism from all those fucking Jews. And to that end, the FSOI want the Labour Friends of Israel (LFI) and the Jewish Labour Movement (JLM) thrown out of the labour party. They actually said that at their meeting. The Labour party maintain that the FSOI is ‘not affiliated to the Labour Party’ and yet the inflammatory event was on the Party’s conference agenda.

So just for the record, I’d just like to repeat Jeremy Corbyn’s and John McDonnell’s words: ‘there is no antisemitic problem within the Labour Party. Now we all feel better and totally reassured.

Like there’s no problem with ‘trolling’, that lovely practice of abusing, insulting and threatening people, usually women, online. Death threats, rape threats, all manner of lovely stuff. Yet Laura Kuensberg, the BBC political editor, now has a personal security guard to accompany her at all times because of the threats she constantly receives from ‘supporters’ of Le Corbyn. And remember, the BBC is often accused of ‘left wing bias’. Not left enough, obviously.

But not to worry. McDonnell yesterday outlined his plans to remove loads of government privatised contracts. The railways, hospitals, schools, all part funded and financed by private investors, have the bare-faced cheek to make money for those investors. McDonnell forgets that they never did that for the government, which is why they were sold off in the first place. By the last Labour government in the most part. “We’ll buy back 200 billion quid’s worth of contracts. We’ll BRING THEM BACK!!!” the tosser shouted. No mention was made of where that 200 bil will magically come from. Nor the 42 billion a year it’ll probably cost in setting up committees and quangos and administration teams to run it. Jobs for the boys.

Its not the socialist agenda of the Labour Party that I fear but the sheer militancy with which they behave. Socialists are fine. Aggressive, threatening, bullying socialists are emphatically not fine. The ‘threat level’ from Labour has moved from ‘fearful’ to ‘scared shitless’. The only level remaining is ‘run for the hills!’ We’re at Defcon 4. The only place more dangerous is Lila’s eating tray.

Happy Conference

A xxxx

Taking a knee used to be a way to refer to receiving a knighthood. You kneel before your monarch and if she has the strength at the time, she will place her sword on your shoulders and pronounce you a knight of the realm. If she’s feeling a bit weak and trembly you become the knight with one ear-lobe missing. Easy. Chivalrous.

But those damned Yanks have hi-jacked the whole ‘knee’ thing in protest against… basically against Donald Trump. Though ostensibly its about racism in the police forces of America who just keep on shooting innocent black guys in the back. And that is a massive problem. So in protest at the government’s apparent inability or unwillingness to prevent these terrible crimes from happening and being (no pun) whitewashed at their inquiries, black sportsmen and women have taken to not standing for the national anthem that precedes all games over there. And in fact over here too because there was an NFL game played at Wembley yesterday and all the black players ‘took the knee’ at the first mention of a star-spangled banner.

Last week a basketball team who won something or other was collectively invited to the White House and again several black players showed public lack of enthusiasm for this ‘honour’ so Trump took away the invite. Then, being Donald Trump, took to the Twitter-waves to slag off all exponents of this gentle, peaceful protest. Accusing them of ‘disrespecting the flag!!!’, that our forefathers fought so hard, blah, blah, blah, lost their legs in battle, blah, blah, blah… you know the speech. “These sports team owners” (that’d be the white guys at the top), Trump continued, “should just pull those kneelers out and say ‘YOU’RE FIRED!!'” To his credit the president did refrain from actually using the ‘n-word’ in any of this.

The excessive use of police force against black civilians is not new. Probably why OJ Simpson was driving so far and so fast that day. And although it was a big problem during the Obama years, it wasn’t an Obama problem. For Bush it was more difficult, simply because he’s white and southern. But no protests. Its because Trump has been repeatedly associated and in fact at times associating with right wing nut-jobs. The ‘alt-right’ which had a massive influence on his early time at the White House is a racist organisation. He acts in a manner which inspires the KKK to endorse his words and actions. And his extreme reluctance, after the car murder of an anti-racism protester, to critisize the neo-nazis was duly noted by all.

Ah, but even neo-nazis are allowed ‘free speech’ under the constitution, he implies. But oddly, the black sportsmen aren’t allowed that same freedom, apparently.

The Labour Party Conference is under way in Brighton. And they’ll sort out the entire future of this nation over 5 days. Oh, except Brexit. That won’t be discussed at all. Well, its not that big a thing really, not that important that Corbyn needs to worry himself about that. And by officially excluding it from the main conference agenda, Brexit has now become a fucking great herd of massive bull elephants in a very small room.

Happy Monday

A xxxx

I knew we had to win at West Ham yesterday. At the ‘London’ Stadium. Named after the people who West Ham stole it from. But we don’t mind. Cos its shit. Horrible place. The perfect home for a fairly horrible team. The only noise there yesterday was coming from the Spurs fans. Until about 60 minutes into the game when West Ham, given their sudden advantage following the departure of Serge Aurier after his second yellow card, decided to wake up a bit. Try playing some football. The fans then took their lead and, slowly sobering up from the previous night’s drinking excesses, neo-nazi conferences, drug-fuelled car-theft, joy-riding excursions, found some of their voices. Not that I like to stereotype.

Spurs were potent. Lethal. Kane, Alli, Erikssen. Need say no more. But I will. Because to that holy trinity you must add the name ‘Lila’. Who was watching, in her own fashion, round here. Wearing the Spurs bib that she insisted on having, in solidarity and support for her boys. Even Aussie Johnno, who still calls the game ‘soccer’, shame on him, couldn’t detract Lila from having her influence on the game. Free points.

I feel sorry for Crystal Palace. Well, I feel sorry for Streatham Malkie and Sarf London Simon who have the grave misfortune of supporting that almost tragic team. They’ve played 6 and lost 6. They haven’t scored a goal this season yet have managed to concede 13 in the failed efforts. Ok, its ‘only September’. But that soon becomes ‘only October’ and then its ‘only April’ and you’re fucked. They need a new manager. Oh, they did that already. Maybe Roy Hodgson will get more than the 4 games his predecessor was allowed.

Yesterday’s defeat was at the hands, or feet, of Manchester City. Just who you want to play when you’re 0 out of 5. But you can’t choose that sort of thing. City have now scored 21 goals in 6 games, conceding just 2 in the process. And they look the part. (Sorry, but…) They only played Palace but were simply brilliant. Horribly, richly, over-payingly brilliant. Every minute of Kevin de Bruyne’s game represented a greater income than most fans earn in a year. I may be exaggerating there but can’t be bothered to get the calculator out. Its pretty close anyway. But you know what? He’s almost worth it. As is David Silva and most certainly Leroy Sane. I haven’t even mentioned that Argentinian geezer because yesterday he was almost superfluous.

Ok, Chelsea, Manchester United and Watford are also on winning runs and looking strong but not on the same level as City. And one of those might be in the relegation battle before the year’s out. Let’s hope that’s Chelsea then. Man City have squandered leads in the table before though. Like… er… well, like last season.

Its all to play for.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx

Theresa May is a wonderful negotiator. No doubt about it. She goes to Florence to speak to those rotten Euro-bastards and give them ‘what for’ and ‘read the riot act’ and make our case for leaving their repressive, demanding, over-charging Euro-bollocks, and plans to offer 18 billion quid for a 2 year ‘interim period’ after Brexit, before… before proper Brexit. And within one measly day’s news headlines, that has grown to 40 billion. I mean, WTF??? Well, its only money.

Meanwhile, back in London, you’ll need to take the bus. Walk. Tube it. No more Uber. Its finished here, done forever, don’t need ’em. Uber? Phah!! Got black cabs, got mini-cabs, well we did have mini-cabs before Uber arrived, but we don’t need Uber. So they’ve lost their license in London. Quite right too.

Who needs all that rotten convenience? Who needs that job flexibility? Who needs to have trackable, traceable drivers who are cheap enough that our daughters use them to get home from Shoreditch at 3am rather than that lovely, safe, reliable, speedy night bus. Or walking, semi-drunk, in their mini-skirts and high heels. Who needs that? Who needs to be able to call a ride with a press of your phone, get a cab within 2 minutes and not have to go to the cashpoint first? Naaaah mate. Who needs ’em? Who wants to be part of the future when the past is so appealingly expensive and antiquated and quaint? You wouldn’t want London to be just another city hooked up to the most wonderful alternative personal transport system in the world, would you? Not when you can become un-Ubered and be part of the 3rd world for riding round. Except most of the 3rd world has embraced Uber and found it to be a massive asset. Both in terms of public usage and job creation. Like it is here, but its simply not ‘good enough’ for London. Not… not… not… I wish I fucking knew. But licensed they won’t be as of September 30th. Though doubtless there’ll be appeals. But really. Really!

Spurs played at West Ham today and were winning so easily that was almost embarrassing. So they decided to try and make more a game of it so had one of our players taken off, give them a man advantage. Which levelled things up a bit but not enough to affect the result.

No tennis for me today. Nor tomorrow, much the pity. Seeing a hip man on Tuesday night. Not like a geezer with a long beard and tattoos who runs a vegan kebab shop in Dalston, more a besuited dude with a white coat and stethoscope. Though really, as an orthopaedic surgeon, more a hammer, chisel and Black’n’Decker. Oooohhhh.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

Mental health is an issue. Big issue, apparently affecting up to 40% of 14 year olds, particularly girls. Who, let’s face it, have never exactly been the most stable of genders. Yet 40% is a massive number of kids worried about social pressures, body images or life in general.

So the first question is: was it always this way for adolescents and we’ve just never quantified it or labelled it as a ‘condition’, rather than just the negativity and misery we expect from that demographic? Or does this represent an increase in mental problems, rather than an increase in the testing?

About 1 in 3 kids (so it seems) is ‘dyslexic’. Whereas in ‘the old days’ one in 3 kids was just thick. Or a shit speller. (I’m a bit dyslexic myslef so can cast nasturtiums at this grupe). Then they invented testing for it and created a whole new class of ultra-bright, multi-talented individuals who share a ‘condition’. Which is liberating.

So is mental health the same? Have they just become better at ‘diagnosing’ it, classifying it and making a nice, safe comfortable ‘condition’ into which the young can find solace?

Adolescence is a particularly difficult time of life for everyone except me. My only problem during that fabulous time of expansion, growth and world awareness, was spelling ‘adolescence’. But for everyone else, apparently, its now a problem. But the world has changed. Mainly in that there are no delays in information. I just bought some new shoes; here they are (7 photos attached to this message). No graphic descriptions, no waiting for the great unveiling on Saturday night; here they are. They haven’t even made it out of Zara but you’ve seen them already.

And people post images all the time on social media. Which fall into 2 groups: gorgeous thin people with muscles and smooth skin to make everyone go ‘wow!’ And slobbering fat people with spots put up to make people laugh. Its cruel but that’s what they do. Thus increasing the entire ‘body image’ shit that has always, to some degree, affected particularly young girls. You do get anorexic boys but very very few relative to girls.

Now they want to counsel ‘freshers week’ students to keep them ‘sober and sane’. Good luck with that. Both of ‘that’. Particularly the sober bit. Its in an effort to try and improve mental health. Which inversely correlates with drunkedness, regardless of how it feels during your 7th tequila shot.

If the testing for mental health is now sufficiently good that it can help, then fine. If its just an umbrella to hide under, another grouping to share misery with, not quite so good. I would say ‘avoid social media’ but for this generation its just too late. Lila’s not getting a smartphone until she’s at least 21. Unless she wants one, of course.

Happy New Year (the Jewish version)

A xxxx

I must admit I don’t have much time for the UN. The United Nations! Sounds grand, sounds like some league of superheroes, brought together for Marvel Comics and a movie franchise. A group of men, AND WOMEN, joined in the pursuit of world peace and harmony and happiness. Except its not like that. And its based in America which pisses off about two thirds of the members anyway. I’m not sure exactly what the UN does. Its like an over-riding world police organisation but seldom acts like one. Unless anyone complains about Israel, then its in like a shot.

The UN has made about 10 times more resolutions about Israel than about the rest of the world put together. It has done nothing about Myanmar and the current mass genocide and expulsion/departure of half a million people. It did nothing about Syria as the country crumbled amid the worst killing of civilians since the Holocaust. It makes no moves against Russia ever, whatever they do. And in the Yemen, the worst humanitarian crisis of the moment, it holds its silence as the Saudis slaughter and starve the people there.

Yet when Israel builds a wall to prevent terrorist attacks by fundamentalist Islamics (which we’re all, tragically, a little more familiar with nowadays), and which in fact reduced those attacks by over 90%, the UN boldly steps in with proclamations, resolutions, toothless demands and calls for all sorts of impotent bollocks.

To sum up the uselessness, the stupidity, the sheer comedic value of the UN: Saudi Arabia have a seat on the UN Human Rights Council. And has been elected to the Commission on the status of Women. They don’t allow women to drive in Saudi. Nor leave their homes without permission from a man. Yet the nation ‘represents women’ in the UN. And as they sit on the Human Rights Council, a blogger has been condemned in that fine nation to receive 1000 lashes over his 5 year prison sentence. For, basically, ‘dissin’ the Prophet in a blog. Ok, they can impose their laws as they see fit, ‘its a free country’, phah! And the blogger knew he was acting against the law. And that those laws are not as we know laws to be. But instead repressive, restrictive and totalitarian in nature. But to give a seat on the Human Rights council to a nation which stones to death rape victims on the grounds of adultery?

In all this the UN is tacitly condoning Saudi terror and endorsing it with an international validity.

So that’s why: I fucking hate the United Nations.

Happy Wednesday

A xxxx

The only times when you’re asked the hard/soft question are when you order eggs for breakfast or when you take your country out of the European Union. There are other parallels. Boris Johnson seems now to have egg on his face. As a consequence of the second situation rather than the first. Theresa May is covered in egg and David Davis not only looks like an omelette but appears to have a similar IQ. And I feel, as most do, that we’re just kind of ‘drifting’ towards Brexit with no plan, no negotiating position and not really much clue of the parameters. Which in turn shift frequently and are dependent on whom you hear from. None of which puts Britain in any kind of position of strength. Boris wants it hard! Hard as ya like. Just walk away and tell anyone with a funny accent to fuck off! Reclaim the 350 million quid a week which was ridiculed as a concept the first time he used it. Theresa May wants the softest of soft; barely a whisker, of departures. Almost seamless. You’d never know we’d left.

Yesterday Theresa was in Canada. I love Canada. And handsome young Trudeau assured us that we’re great mates and will continue to trade together as always. Which is great. Canada is a massive country with a tiny population. Polar bears don’t import stuff. They generally eat ‘locally sourced’ food and won’t drive a stick shift. So the trade between our nations will carry on but that won’t replace Europe. Canada is trade we already do now. And part of that trade will doubtless be dependent on our (current) access to the European markets. Which we won’t have upon our departure. Similarly many of our non-Euro trade partners will reduce their dealing with us by the size of the Euro-dependent stuff. We need new markets. Previously unexplored.

North Korea has potential. Long as its still there after the current madness. Big population of starving individuals. And no-one else in the world will trade with them. Well, China does. But they don’t make much. Hmmm… The famine-ridden masses of Kim Jong-Un’s nation would just love Princess Diana mugs. Spurs scarves. They just can’t get enough Charles and Camilla t-shirts.

I’m hating Brexit and its boring.

Lila is never boring. Always wonderful. And today she ‘ate’ her first proper breakfast!!! Milk is for wimps. Real babies not so much eat food as spread it around liberally, toss it about the kitchen. Lila vs Food. Lila definitely won. Bless her.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx

Do they have orthopaedic care homes? Or ‘sporting care homes’ perhaps? Where old people who refuse to ever slow down in their pursuit of athletic excellence can go and get put back together. To live their lives out being pumped full of steroids and being physiotherapied along so they can play just one more game of tennis, have one last run, make just three more attempts at jumping 7 metres on the pole vault, before they die.

People always ask me the same thing when they haven’t seen me for a few years/months/weeks/hours; ‘have you lost weight?’ they say. Because they’ve forgotten that I’m just a skinny bastard. Always have been. Nothing to do with ‘eating well’. Which I never have. Well, I do eat well. Then I eat badly afterwards. Very naughty badly. Mel’s in good shape too. Not sure how that precise shape would be described but its not a bad shape at all. So people accuse us of ‘being fit’.

No, we’re not fit. Fit implies glowing with muscular perfection, with rampant athleticism, with everything working perfectly, harmoniously, effortlessly wonderfully. Mel & I are more: ‘held together with sticking plaster, surgical supports, k-tape and an endless supply of ibuprofen’. We’re the medical equivalent of a 1958 Porsche Speedster that is polished to perfection, chromed to the max; but the engine’s firing on one cylinder, the carbs clogged up and the spark plugs missing.

This morning I have a physio appointment. Been booked ages. Just an ‘interim service’ kind’a thing. Check it all over, make sure its not too damaged, stiff, seized up, whatever. Particularly the shoulder which was cortisoned up a year ago and is thankfully now almost 65% ok. That was the plan. Til yesterday. I hurt my hip on the tennis court about 6 months ago. Been liveable with since then (read: I still play tennis on it even though I probably shouldn’t). Either forgot about it or learned to live with the infrequent minor discomfort. Then I went for a shot yesterday morning, moved fast, very fast, almost explosively, to the right (that’s the hip) and… well, exploded. My hip did. That’s what it felt like. Holy Shi-iit!!! I hobbled to the coffee shop then walking the 200 yards to my house, I actually had to stop. Couldn’t move it without sheer agony.

Yet today its not too bad. Back to normal (levels of minor pain). But was replaced by a sharp ache between my shoulders, right across my back. Woke me up. So you just have to wonder: What the Fuck??? And get physio. Lots of physio. And drugs. Better get to my appointment early. We have much to do.

Happy, achy Monday

A xxxx

When you learn a new word you have to re-organise your internal glossary. Otherwise you’ll get it wrong in polite company and be accused of some form of obsessional political incorrectness. My mother always referred in to ‘coloured people’. No Mum, I’d advise, we call them ‘black people’. Oh no, wasn’t black, just light brown… She never got it, bless her saintly memory. She’d never cope with the new obsession for sexual and gender redefining. She grew up in the most binary of all possible worlds. So I was never dressed in pink or instructed in gender neutrality. For which I can forgive her. But for not buying me a Barbie doll?? Never.

Today’s word is ‘polyamorous’. Read it in the paper. You’d guess it has something to do with loving anything, or perhaps everything, just from the Latin. “My friend is polyamorous” it stated. So I at first thought she’s into boys and girls and animals and plastic objects, perhaps corpses, trees, who fucking knows. But no. Apparently its more ‘everyone’ than ‘everything’. So please amend your internal word-list accordingly. Delete these terms: slut, bike, tart, whore, slag and all synonyms thereof and replace with ‘polyamorous’. Easy. Done that.

The Spurs match yesterday was very binary. We did all the attacking, Swansea did all the defending. So a proper binary score; 0-0. Was it dull? Not really, Spurs looked fab at times, not so fab at others, Swansea were incredibly organised, with a back 5 in front of the goalie and a line of three 5 yards in front. I’ve never felt that football matches are defined by the goals scored. Ok, they’re nice but I’ve seen some amazingly exciting 0-0 draws, real edge-of-the-seat stuff. This wasn’t one. You only moved to the edge of your seat yesterday to avoid the cramp of inertia. But it was ok. I won’t bang on about missed penalty awards because that’s such a horribly Wengeresque thing to do. We didn’t win because we didn’t score. End of.

Fortunately I went to the match with The Miserable Fucker which redeemed the day. Because he’s not really that miserable, though he reserves the right. And for 90 minutes (ok, ‘plus stoppage time’) we ignored most of the match to pictorially illustrate the far more interesting conversations about grandchildren obsessions, about food obsessions, about how the world could be made better if everyone just ate more meat and killed more animals, about whether its appropriate for old men to get tattoos and if so, of what? And ok, a bit about football. So did I enjoy ‘the game’ which started when we met up, the travelling together with other friends, the bullshit, the banter? And did I enjoy ‘the match’, are in fact different questions. Neither of which I’m prepared to answer without my lawyer.

Happy Sunday, which it may be for either Chelsea or Arsenal but not both.

A xxxx

Britain never signed up to the full ‘Schengen’ agreement by which all member states of Europe, plus a few others like Norway agreed to ‘free passage of Europeans between states’. We never signed up because we’ve always had a small-island-mentality and we always will. Not saying it was a bad thing not to do the full Schengen, just saying it was a thing. Which won’t matter a jot once we finally, eventually, agonisingly Brexit because we’ll probably end up joining the Schengen to get the trade deals. Even though we didn’t need to when we were a part of the madness that we’ll call ‘Europe’. That clear?

Free passage of Europeans means that they can cross borders. It never referred to the freedom of Europeans to march along the streets of Islington singing German marching songs in groups of 15,000 or more whilst setting off flares and being very foreign. We never signed up to that.

So when someone on Thursday night sent me a video of precisely that I immediately went and hid behind the sofa. I mean; fuck me!! Germans marching with gesticulating arm-movements and aggressive chanting in London! Holy shit. And on a thursday too, which is not a European football night. Then I realised that for some poor souls, Thursday night IS Euro night. That other Euro night. Oh. (Sorry; but for 20 years we’ve endured such gloating so cut me some slack here). And this was just those lovely Cologne fans come to see their relatively lowly team compete at even that minorly ‘high’ level for the first time in decades. So the whole fucking town came over. Even though they were only awarded 3,000 tickets for the ‘away fans’. Itself a bit ‘mean’ really, but that’s Arsenal for you. 20,000 of the Germans came, a-singin’ and a-marchin’ and basically being really Germanic. Without tickets. Though many did have tickets but in the Arsenal sections of the ground. Supposedly some error in the system where you enter the team you support; “zat vould be ze Arzenal’, and your address: Bustenhalterstrasse 52… and those very clever computers work out whether you might be a chancing away fan rather than a true Gooner scumbag. Or not, as the case may have been.

You have to laugh.

Off to Wembley soon for the Swansea game. Doubtless after yesterday’s ‘event’ at Parsons Green the security at the game today will be vast and thorough. I bloody hope so.

Happy Saturday

A xxxx