Life's a Beach

Is there a secret beach in the city of London of which I'm unaware? Something must explain the large numbers of women (and, far, far worse, and just downright wrong, men) travelling around the city's transit system in beach footwear.

Something Different

One of the best songs ever recorded.

Spit and Polish

I know there's a credit crunch. I know there's a food crisis. Is there also a shoe polish crisis?

Occasionally my commute takes me past the main financial employment centres in London, via London Bridge and Canary Wharf. And only occasionally do I see someone wearing properly polished shoes. And I don't just mean that most are wearing suede or other fabric which doesn't shine. I mean proper shoes, worn with a proper business suit, in some cases expensive business suits, rounded off with dull, or even worse, dirty, footwear. What happened to taking pride in one's appearance, and, for that matter, attention to detail.

Is this a trivial concern? I don't think so. It demonstrates the continuing descent of our country into the gutter, the abandonment of once cherished consensual norms for a one-size fits all, we're all chavs now conformity to the lowest common denominator. I mean, why bother polishing your shoes? For one thing, they'll only get dirty again; for another, that twenty minutes spent polishing you could be concentrating on Big
Brother/Strictly Come Dancing/Celebrity Shoe Salesman(delete as appropriate).

Congratulations to Boris

Congratulations, if a little belatedly, to Boris Johnson on his magnificient victory over the marxist slimeball Livingstone. At long last, London has an intelligent, serious politician in charge.

It says a lot of the depth of repulsion felt at NuLabour and their divisive, pusillanimous policies, that, even with the enormous client state that Vilestone created and maintained with the largesse of the socialist dictator spending other people's money, even with that vast constituency, the King Newt still got kicked out.

Good Riddance. Now for the other talentless, brainless redistributor in Downing Street...

Where did the Bells Go?

Currently, I'm spending some time in Germany, in the centre of a medium-sized northern city.

Every morning, I wake up to the sound of ringing church bells. Not just from the one church either - from my balcony, I can hear several churches belting out the chimes. On my way to work on the tram, I pass more churches with ringing bells during the week.

What happened to the church bells of England? Why do I never hear them? Is it the creeping menace of the cultural marxists who control our lives, dictating that they might 'offend' some minority group or other?

Time to take back our heritage - it' time the bells of England were ringing every day again.

Porridge

You're in prison. You should no longer have any 'yuman rights' - you gave those up when you abrogated the contract between yourself and the rest of, by breaking our laws. Instead, there are riots if the toilet paper is too rough, demands for special mealtimes, multi-function remotes for their flat-screen televisions.

Prisons are there to lock up criminals - or at least they should be.

It's not just mawzlems who are at this caper, but this is without a doubt the most ridiculous I've heard this week.

Boo Hoo!

Now, when I was a boy, we were always playing war games - cowboys and indians, second world war. It's only natural. It's also natural to caricature the current enemy in these games.

The whining really knows no end. There really is no detail too small for the 'Muslim Advocacy' brigade to launch their carping and complaining