The Fight for Democracy?

Benazir Bhutto returned to Pakistan in the hope of returning the nation to democracy. She had been warned that extremist elements would try to assassinate her. She resolutely ignored the threats saying that nothing should stand in the way of her democratic mission.
Miss Bhutto is the daughter of a previous president who, although he brought Pakistan into a democratic state, later in his tenure of office turned corrupt. He was finally hanged for all sorts of crimes against the state. Whether these were put-up charges we may never know. Then the present military regime took over and has remained in power in one form or another for many years - propped up by the Americans who look on the present regime as a bastion of defence against the Taliban in Afghanistan and are therefore prepared to overlook other misdemeanours like human rights abuses etc. (Shades here of previous American relations with Iraq, Iran, Korea, Vietnam . . .)
Back to Miss Bhutto. As I said she stayed firm in her resolution to try to bring back democracy - even to the point of making arrangements with the present regime to have charges against her dropped (don't ask me how - I don't have a clue).
So on arrival in Pakistan after eight years of self-imposed exile (because she would have been thrown in jail or executed if she had stayed) she staged a big rally. It was well publicised and at least 100,000 people turned up to line the route of her procession. She was carried in an armoured truck - just as well for her because, predictably, two suicide bomb attacks were carried out on her truck. The truck was disabled by the first. The second blast was even bigger and took the lives of at least 130 people and cause many more hundreds of casualties.
Miss Bhutto was interviewed after the event and told of the carnage.
I wonder if she stopped to consider the causes? She had been warned that attempts would be made on her life. She knew she needed the massed support of the people to carry her campaign. It was obvious that many thousands would be at any demonstration she organised. Yet she still carried on. She knew that there was a risk not only to her life but to those of her followers. I wonder if she really realised the true risks each one of her supporters was taking just by being in her vicinity? She probably did. She probably also calculated that such deaths and injuries would help rally support for her campaign against extremism.
Did those people who died or were injured really want to die or suffer for the cause?
I wonder . . .

The Fat of the Land . . .

A new survey states that Britain has become the most obese nation in Europe. We're a load of flat slobs. The average weight of a 12-year-old boy has gone up by 6.6 kilos and a 12-year-old girl by an astounding 7.4 kilos.
Daily in my place of work I see globs of fat sticking out over waistbands. To me it looks revolting. But then I am from a time when slim was the norm and fat people were looked on as abnormal, to be made out as figures of fun and derision. Not that the norm was "size zero" (whatever the hell that is) but most people had a waist that went inwards and hips that were wider than the waist.
I don't want to deride obese people. I just think of the few I have known in the past who have died far too young because their hearts have not been able to take the strain any longer.
Talk is of the Government having to do something about fast food outlets, excess drinking and eating and making our diet more healthy. For goodness sake, governments of all persuasions have been preaching - and legislating - about unhealthy foods for years. Still we, as a nation, consume.
And There is the answer.
CONSUME.
Our whole society now lives on consuming. If we didn't consume - whether it be food, gadgets, toys or almost anything - the whole fabric of our society would crumble.
While we live in the Consumer Society we will never curb our desires and live more healthy lifestyles.
So I will just have to remember the times when young girls and guys were slim and attractive - not just lumps of lard with globs of fat hanging out of their clothes.

Renewed Faith in Car Mechanics

The saga of the cars continues.
Last week the windscreen washer switch on the present car went wrong. No worries, I know I have a spare in the old car, so I'll just swap them over . . . easy!
So off I go to the Haynes manual. It tells me that I have to remove part of the dashboard to gain access to the switch. It also tells me that to do that I need to remove the steering wheel. So I follow the instructions and set to work.
Remove the central cover on the steering wheel - done.
Undo the nut revealed underneath the cover . . . having finally found the right socket to fit the nut I start to undo the nut - but I can't! I use a long handle - no effect. I tap the handle with a mallet - still the frigging nut won't turn. It's almost as if it's been welded in place!
So I give up and call the local Renault dealer to arrange for them to fit a new switch.
Come Friday, they say, and it'll cost you £80. Well, we thought, it's got to be done. You can't drive long distances in shitty weather without washers.
Come Friday my wife duly takes the car in. She waits while they do the job. Then a rather sheepish fitter comes back and says that the part they ordered is the wrong one. It does the job but it is not the right shape. He will contact the spares warehouse and see if they can send the right one by tomorrow.
So today I ring them. "Have you got the replacement switch?" I ask. "They've sent the wrong one again", says Dean, apologetically. "We can try it and see if it will work but I think the shape of the stalk is wrong and may impede steering."
I commented that it was such a shame because I have the right switch in another car but cannot get the steering wheel off to gain access to it.
Back comes Dean: "You don't need to get the steering wheel off if you have the right thin T10 screwdriver to get to the screw behind the wheel. I'll lend you mine!"
I am now halfway through the job of swapping them over and just waiting for the missus to come back from shopping in the car so that I can finish the job.
I want to say a big "thank you" to Dean at Renault Minute in Staple Hill, Bristol. His loan of the tool has saved us £80 and, indirectly, I have now got a working windscreen washer.
LATER THE SAME DAY . . .
So the Missus comes home . . . I swap the switches . . . and still the bugger doesn't work! SHIT! So I try both switches in turn on the old car. Both work perfectly. SHIT AGAIN!
So I decide that it's the wiring or the connector. I fiddle with the connection to the switch. It makes no difference. I look at the connection at the pump end. Some connection, but only if I press really hard on the connector. I finally get my head under the bonnet and get the aforesaid good lady to work the switch while I fiddle with the pump. It works spasmodically. It still hasn't dawned on me that the obvious answer is the pump is buggered!
But finally, in desperation, as a last resort I swap the pump from the old car.
EUREKA!
The frigging thing works! Perfectly! Every time you press the switch!
If only I'd gone right through the whole system before taking it to the mechanics . . .

So what IS Facebook for . . .?

I recently posted an entry to this blog with a tongue-in-cheek comment that I didn't really know what Facebook was for.
I received a comment from "Anonymous" which read as follows:

I remember once, as a young child, sitting in a garden in Bristol while my brother was being born. A wasp flew past and I made some comment about how much I hated wasps. My Uncle asked me: "Why don't you like wasps?" "Well," I replied (I was clearly a very articulate toddler), "I'm not sure what they are for.""What they are for?," my uncle exclaimed in surprise, "Why do they need to be FOR anything?"Today, I get to say the same back. Facebook isn't FOR anything (though it has many uses it can be put to). It's just THERE and, unlike wasps, it's bloomin good fun!

Well, nephew Kevin - I'll tell you what Facebook is for. It is for fun, as you state. It enables friends to communicate. It enables you to increase your circle of friends via "cyberspace" (what a horrible word!)
But mostly it's to make Money, Ackers, Filthy Luker, Bread, Dough, Cash for its instigators.
They have made piles of greenbacks . . . and good luck to them!
I just wish I'd been the one to think of it!

Conscience or abuse?

So Sainsbury's, that bastion of western capitalism, has decided that it will allow its Muslim workers to opt out of dealing with alcohol in its stores.
Very commendable. Let's try to accommodate all beliefs and viewpoints within our workforce. If there is someone who has a religious problem with the sale of alcohol then let's help them by letting them get someone else to do that part of their job. So when Muhammad sees a bottle of plonk or a tinny advancing down the conveyor he puts up his hand and another employee scans that through so that he can avoid being involved in selling it. Likewise Abdul can opt out of stacking the shelves in the wine aisles.
All very commendable on the part of Sainsbury's . . . or is it?
Many Muslims have stated that this is not the road to go down. They state that Muslims, like any others, have a duty to fulfil their duties as employees. They have a contract which binds them to act within the law of the land. It is legal to sell booze in this country and it is reasonable within the law to ask employees to assist in the sale of such merchandise. So, if they have issues with selling alcohol, they should not apply to work in such an environment.
If taken to the extreme, this would preclude all Muslims from working in any job in Britain - and, for that matter, anywhere in the world. Women would not be allowed to work anywhere where there were men. No Muslim would be allowed to work for any company which profited from money which has been loaned - most companies rely on shareholders (lenders) to finance their businesses. I could go on . . .
Take as another example Jews. No Jew should work in a supermarket because they might sell pork. Hindus might also have an issue with beef. Buddhists may have problems with meat in general.
There are many other sections of society who could claim that parts of their beliefs would be compromised by working in certain situations.
Isn't it time that common sense prevailed? If you have problems with a certain job, don't apply for it.
Or is it a case of Human Rights rules over all other considerations?
Could it be a case of people claiming religious conscience in order to take advantage of the system? I hope not.
But I still cannot be sure that it is not the total abuse of the system, thus turning the term "human rights" into "what suits me".
I write as a "don't know". I neither believe nor disbelieve in a deity. Is there a God? I don't know!
I have a respect for my fellow man inasmuch as I treat them as I hope they would treat me - with a respect for a way of life and a right to life.
As such where they have issues, I hope I could accommodate them. But I hope they hold the same view on my way of life. If they can't, then we all have a problem.
Belief and conscience have a way of dividing humanity which leads to dispute, argument and - eventually - war.
Let's hope that Muhammad can come to terms with either selling alcohol or changing his employment.

Recognition!

At last! Someone has commented on my blog!
I told one of my friends on the notorious Facebook to look at my blog and she did. Furthermore she made a comment!
Thanks Charlotte!
Albeit she said she liked it and would read more of it later . . . but I then sent her the url of a particularly amusing one (in my opinion) entry.
I hope she reads it and tells her friend how good it is.
Perhaps I can build up a following . . .
But then - perhaps not . . .

Promises, promises . . .

So it looks as if Scotland has taken over British politics - again!
Last time it was James I of England and VI of Scotland.
Now . . . have you noticed that all the leading politicians have Scots names or ancestry - or both?
Gordon's an out and out Scot. David has the eminently Scottish name of Cameron. Sir Menzies (pronounced Mingies) Campbell is a Scots ex-athlete of note with a posh English accent to disguise his roots.
Even Tony before this present lot has a Scots-rooted name - Blair.
It looks like the beginnings of a Scottish Empire!
It seems lately that a prerequisite for becoming a politician is to have Scots roots.
Now I don't give a damn where my leaders come from, or their background. All I want from the government of the day is a fair and just society.
Dream on, Mac! One promises to cut this tax. Another says he'll take this many millions out of certain tax brackets by raising threshholds. Another says he'll make the country greener and cleaner. Another says he'll increase the number of people sent to prison. Another counters that prisons cost us too much and he will reduce the costs by executing everyone who has broken the speed limit. Then the first comes back and says he'll do all this and do it without costing any of us a penny!
And so on . . .
All of them have election fever and would promise to provide flying pink elephants for all same-sex partners of 16 and above if they thought that would tip the balance in their favour.
Whoever gets into power - whether it be the present incumbent or some other twat - all the average person wants is to be able to live decently, safely and comfortably.
But that would be Utopia.
I suppose I will have to vote for a lying prat - otherwise the wrong lying prat will get in . . .