Tag Archives: UK

The real granny killers

Mrs S has a dose of the dreaded lurgi, a SARS/COV-2 infection, courtesy I think of baby sister in law who came to visit even though she was coughing and spluttering. So, I’m busy keeping my other half cool, medicated and resting. Not that I’m that worried. Mrs S is a robust woman who will slough this latest illness off like she has everything else.

This may play ducks and drakes with her upcoming hospital appointments, but the restraints are off (leg & knee brace etc), and it’s only for physio anyway. Fresh air, good food and gentle exercise will pull her through with ease. It’s ironic really, because she’s had the booster shots and I have steadfastly refused to do so. So, it is what it is.

I see all the crazy green dreams of ‘Net Zero’ are starting to crumble, despite the insanity of places like Oxford and elsewhere hamstringing their local economies with pointless traffic restrictions. Newsflash kiddies. If people can’t get in to buy things, your city centres will rot from the inside out. Trade needs goods to move to be bought and sold. If the goods don’t move, the money gradually stops, and places become wasteland.

What ‘Net Zero’ also does is kill. Mainly old people on fixed incomes who can’t afford the skyrocketing bills caused by Net Zero policies and the pointless lockdowns. For the rabid greenies, well they don’t care that your elderly parent will freeze to death in the dark. Their empty headed fanaticism will result in thousands of deaths because, contrary to their beliefs, reality tells us that there is no empirically proven causal link between human emissions of Carbon Dioxide and weather The claimed correlation only exists in the output of bad theoretical models and the crazed ravings of rent seekers. I’ve looked at the source data and model output. There’s nothing there.

The rabid greenies, fraidy cat NIMBY’s and their insistence that wind and solar are more use than a chocolate teapot, will be directly responsible for people freezing to death. People like the loathsome Extinction rebellion and their protest splinter groups will be directly to blame for people starving in the dark. But what do you expect from the kind of ‘woke’ idiots who can’t even tell a man from a woman? Bozo’s.

You didn’t have to be a genius or a prophet to see this motorway pile up of an economic car crash coming. It’s so obvious that anyone with two brain cells to rub together can see it. Yet the cosseted urbanites of the rabid green faction, living off borrowed money the rest of us are going to have to repay, can’t.

Lifting the ban on fracking will help. The panics about seismicity are just that, empty panics. The ‘earthquakes’ associated with fracking are at worst magnitude two point five, which no one will notice because it’s below the range of human perception. These ‘quakes caused by settling as rock strata give up their oil and gas can only be detected by seismographs. Having experienced several over magnitude three I can tell you it’s like having a heavy truck roll by the house. A saucer might rattle, or a picture tilt, but that’s all. Mining subsidence from badly maintained mothballed mine tunnels can lead to far worse subsidence. A dryer than usual Summer or much wetter Winter can lead to far more ground shifting. Hardly grounds for killing the poor and elderly.

Now 1200+ scientists have signed a ‘world climate declaration‘ stating that there is ‘no climate emergency’. Unfortunately this body of scientific opinion will be ignored even after people start to die. Rather like the ‘Great Barrington Declaration‘ (With almost a million signatories) devised by well qualified immunologists and researchers is still being ignored by much of the political class, many of whom have blood on their hands over both climate and pandemic. Their policies are already killing more people than they ‘save’. Either from denial of treatment or putting a stranglehold on reasonably priced energy, or more directly from inappropriate use of badly tested ‘vaccines’ and ‘renewables’ not delivering in the depths of winter.

For me, I saw this coming a long time ago and have been taking steps to protect those I care for. Insulation. Affordable fuel. Alternate sources of food. The money we squirreled away for our frail dotage has been invested carefully, and as soon as Mrs S is back in action it’ll be full steam ahead.

The granny killers are not going to take us without a fight.

God save the King

There. I’ve said it. The Queen is dead, long live the King. I may not like Charles’s stance on man made climate change, or his obeisance to the wokish side of politics, but I am sworn. And an oath is an oath. May God help me.

Queen Liz, Brenda, whatever you want to call her, is no more. No doubt with a sense of relief to be following her husband, but with concern for the future of the people for whom she was the figurehead.

How do I feel about this? For someone I could never know personally? Deeply saddened. Subdued and, in a dry-eyed way mournful. I’m not really a monarchist either. The whole wavy flag, my country right or wrong thing passed me by. Yet I understand the need for a head of state, and I’d far rather it was someone trained for the long haul, rather than some mere politician.

What I don’t want to listen to is the torrent of empty platitudes from mere politicians, because she, and she alone was my sovereign lady. I may not have cared for the actions of her politicians and servants, but since before I was born she was the lynchpin of the land of my birth and the greater commonwealth.

All I have to say is this. God speed Elizabeth. You served your people as well as you could from the gilded cage of your position.

For the next few days I will be wearing black as a mark of mourning and respect. I may not crack a smile for a while. Something subtly important has departed from my life, and from the lives of so many of my fellow expats.

Now what? I think it is time for new beginnings. A time for the end of fear. To rid ourselves of old dogmas like COVID and man made climate change. To abandon the woke minority to the obscurity they so richly deserve, and to tell the yanks to stuff their crappy foreign policy once in a while. To begin to live properly again.

A proposed modest solution to the coming food crisis

With those who fancy themselves our lords and masters telling us that an ‘insect based diet’ is really healthy and infinitely preferable to any form of animal protein, I find myself less than convinced. Are these people willing to put their stomachs and digestion on the line? Oh my goodness me, don’t be silly. They will have the best animal protein all to themselves while most farms and farmers go to desolation and waste, and livestock, ever a component of a healthy ecosystem, is confined to the plates of a select few and their hangers on.

Do you think the senior members of S.P.E.C.T.R.E. are going to give up their Chateaubriands to ‘save the planet’? If you do, I have a really excellent bridge to sell you. Absolute bargain. A never to be missed opportunity.

There is a food crisis coming down the tracks for those who will not or cannot take a few simple precautions. The global supply chains are not recovering fast enough after the COVID debacle and there are even people out there actively involved in trying to shut key elements down, usually ‘environmental’ protesters. Who seem to get gentler treatment from the farces of law and disorder than anyone else. Which, given the later content of this blog post, may not be such a bad thing.

Now, given that a crisis (Oh blood and sand, not another one!) is heading toward us at a high rate of knots, there is time to take action and make preparations. Imagine a scenario….

A senior member of the ‘Insulate Britain’ group is taking an early morning jog on a sunny morning, earbuds in, listening to sounds and generally having a pleasant interlude while plotting spreading misery to the rest of the travelling public. Another day, another protest. Not long now, capitalism is almost crushed.

To the background of pleasant morning birdsong, they turn into their privet lined middle class haven, passing a plain white delivery van with an open side door. As they pod alongside there is a swish of cloth followed by a short melange of sounds, a brief scrabble of trainer clad feet and a noise like someone hitting a melon with a hammer, followed by the metallic rumble of a van door closing. The birds keep singing. After a few moments the electric van whirrs away from the kerb. The joggers cellphone and earbuds are tossed into a well clipped hedge at the end of the street. The anonymous van turns left and disappears from sight.

A few short minutes later, in the concrete anonymity of a run down industrial estate, the same white van drops a black sack, quite heavy for its size, onto a pallet at the back door of an industrial kitchen. A steel roller shutter door rattles open. A bored forklift driver emerges and uses his machine to move the new arrival onto a belt of steel rollers. The forklift retreats inside, the van drives away and the roller shutter door rattles closed. From inside comes the buzzing whine of a bandsaw.

A while later a whiff of cooking heavily spiced pork drifts across the yard to a small group of vagrants who glance up expectantly. One grimaces. “Bloody hell, they’re going to feed us pork curry again.” His fellow down and outs berate him for his ingratitude. It’s meat, a rare treat in this day and age.

“I remember when there was beef, lamb, chicken and even goat. Kebabs even.” He comments sourly. “Now it’s either ground up tasteless insects or bloody Pork.”

“What would you rather have?” Snaps one of his fellows. “We all remember proper meat from before the crash. I think we’re lucky to have found this soup kitchen. We can’t afford to live, so we have to eat where we can. I’ll settle for this places dodgy pork curries and rice any day of the week. Stop your grousing or sod off.”

“I only meant I’d like something other than curried pork.” He mutters darkly.

“Beggars can’t be choosers mate, and guess what we are.” Says a sour faced woman to his left. “Come on. let’s get in the queue before it’s all gone.” She rises to her feet and begins to walk around the side of the building to join the early morning charity breadline. The others follow. One leading a scrawny dog, yawning mouth exposing it’s slack dripping tongue, canine eyes expectant. They join the already hundred metre queue for the long shuffle for their one meal of the day, not caring where it came from, only that their ever present hunger is appeased.

Okay, that’s just a fantasy. However the above scenario may yet be seen in the urban centres of dear old blighty. Seemingly random people kidnapped from the street, their bodies used to feed the victims of economic fallout from a crash engineered by those behind the ‘great reset’. There’s a form of poetic justice in my version though.

Yes my friends, if Schwab and his acolytes get their way, like those down and outs in my little vignette, there may well come a time when you will be grateful to eat your Greens. As most of them have never really worked for a living, they’re tender and juicy, and probably better for you than starvation.

Just a thought….

I will miss

I had such high hopes of Boris Johnson, but found myself increasingly alienated as his Prime Ministership developed. The lockdowns, the masks, the travel restrictions, the cowardice in the face of a comparatively minor threat.

Now he’s resigning, there is a part of me that will miss him. But the upside is that Carrie Simmonds loses her grip on the bollocks of power. She is the one who (I feel) has hag ridden Bojo into implementing the crazy ‘net zero’ anti-human WEF agenda.

I won’t miss her.


There are sheep in the driveway and garden of our temporary domicile this morning. No idea where they’ve come from, but they’re merrily lunching on the lawn. I suppose the neighbour who owns them will be along shortly with his dog to round them up and herd them back into their proper meadow. See picture below taken from the kitchen window.

They’ve obviously squeezed between strands of a barbed wire fence as the Ewes are missing chunks of fleece. The lambs, about ten of them, appear relatively unscathed. Sheep are great escape artists and will get out of anywhere.

Wincing slightly at the UK Chancellor trying to do something about high fuel bills by imposing a ‘windfall’ tax on the energy companies to give to the people currently suffering from fuel poverty who can’t pay their fuel bills.

Now I’m no economist, but what do you think the energy companies hit with such a tax bill are going to do? Got it in one! Raise their prices to the already hard pressed consumers even further, thus increasing fuel poverty for the most vulnerable. Never mind the ‘better off’ giving their four hundred knicker payment to charity, the ‘rebate’ will easily get swallowed up by the increased bills.

As a more sensible approach, the UK government could cut energy bills overnight by almost fifteen percent by cancelling all the ‘Green’ levies and not collecting the tax from the poor bloody peasants in the first place. That would make far more sense.

Why is it so obvious to me but not to the supposed big brains currently in power?

Makers and breakers

Having listened to Dr Starkey’s little talk (See below) about Bojo’s fining for breaking the COVID rules. I am minded to think that Boris Johnson should not be fined. Nor any of his Staff, the Chancellor or any of his staff. Indeed I would like all COVID fines to be quashed and if need be repaid, no matter who they were issued to.

The restrictions have served no good purpose, and once the data is fully known, will be found to have been far more harmful than doing nothing but simple common sense (Stay at home if ill) precautions.

Off with their honours.

The Numbers are in

So, how many people died in each age group from a SARS/COV-2 infection between March 2020 and December 2021?

These are official statistics for the UK. From the office of National Statistics (ONS) no less. These are the thing and the whole of the thing, da bomb, or the absolute cold hard numbers, whatever your vernacular.

Brace yourselves.

The number of people to die of a SARS/COV-2 infection alone, in the UK between March 2020 and September 2021 (Statistics as quoted by John Campbell below and here), by age groups are;

  • Age range 0-64: 3,774
  • Age range 65+ : 13,597
  • Total: 17,231
  • Average ages of death UK 2020-21: 79.3 (Males) 83.1 years of age (Females).
  • Average ages of mortality UK 2018: 79 (Males) 82.5 (Females)

Jaysus, Joseph and Mary! Is that all? Considering there’s over half a million deaths in the UK every year. Under 20,000 is barely a blip, statistically speaking. 50,000 UK citizens have died through untreated cancers alone according to Dr Karol Sikora. Never mind all the untreated heart disease and other fatal conditions. Now remind me. Who were all these restrictions, mask mandates and vaccines supposed to save?

This is not ‘disinformation’ or any other form of deception. All this information can be independently verified. Any deception I leave to SAGE, Independent SAGE, the politicians, mainstream, Alphabet corporation social media and all their so-called ‘fact checkers’. See John Campbell’s exposition below:

The Black belt Barrister discusses the figures below.

These numbers have been public domain all through the pandemic. They tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so God help us all. So. Why the mainstream scaremongering? Why the constant project fear and the hamstringing of whole economies?

Personally I think this is a massive case of some people who should know better refusing to do any proper due diligence. They just trusted a bunch of so-called ‘experts’ who have repeatedly proven that they are not fit for purpose.

Then there’s the documented incidences of menstrual irregularities and heart irritation being linked to the mRNA vaccines (Short term or not). The vaccines that only mitigate the worst symptoms, and unlike regular vaccines do not provide fuller protection against a given disease. The vaccines that did not prevent spread. And so on….

At this stage of the game I think many of the ‘unvaxxed’ are clapping themselves on the back knowing that they dodged a bullet. Frankly I am unhappy that I allowed myself to be double jabbed against my better judgement, and bluntly told Mrs S; “This is what I’ve been saying all along. The raw numbers tell us the truth.” To which she grudgingly allowed me a small victory, even though the taste of it is ashen.

Personally, I’m with Mark Steyn.

Given the ramifications of all of the above, I am disgusted with the conduct of most of the people in public life over this matter. Disgusted with their censorship, lies and divisiveness. Disgusted with the media talking heads who should now, if they have even the faintest patina of any integrity, which I doubt, shuffle off into retirement and get the hell out of our freaking lives for good.

Now I have an ancient IKEA wardrobe and a few rolls of old carpet to dispose of. I’ll be saying good riddance to those, too.

Save the Health Service!

Another day, another text trying to inveigle me into baring my arm for a third time. I think it’s the fifth I’ve ignored in the last two weeks. You think they’d get the hint wouldn’t you? Keep sending out texts that get ignored, maybe the recipient isn’t interested? Next time I’m blocking them. this is getting silly.

I’m getting a more than a little impatient over all this COVID nonsense. As I have said many times, we never locked down or wore masks everywhere for colds and flu, so WTF are we doing over a bug that has morphed into something analogous to a bad head cold? Especially as the “OHMYGAWD!” variant seems to infect both vaccinated and not equally, regardless of being ‘boosted’ or not.

In addition, we keep on hearing that we, the general public have to “Save our health service” In the UK this is the ‘wonderful’ National Health Service fetishised by so many despite it’s many flaws. So, having a bit of time on my hands on site between waiting for estate agents, technicians and builders to turn up on site, I did a bit of Interweb searching and found the following;

In the UK, the ‘wonderful’ NHS which people are constantly exhorted to ‘save’ is shrinking. It has been in decline as far as bed capacity is concerned since at least the year 2000. In the year 2000 there were approximately 240,000 beds, almost a quarter of a million beds serving a population of just under 59 million people. That’s about one bed for every 246 people.

By 2020, the NHS had a capacity of approximately 167,000 beds serving a population of around 68 million. That is one bed for every 407 people. If you want to check the percentages, knock yourself out.

Now pardon my arithmetic, but that sounds rather like an institution in decline. Go back to the mid 1970’s and the total bed count was 400,000 for a population of just over 56 million. One bed for 140 people. How do I know? this site has done all the heavy lifting. All right, ‘care in the community’ hadn’t happened yet and the UK still had large mental hospitals, but still, that’s a hell of a step change.

By the mid 1980’s the bed count had shrunk to 151,000, but grew again to 299,000 (!) by 1986/7, with the majority of spaces being in acute and emergency care. Read the full story here.

However, I would call one thing into question; The articles quoted population figures. See quoted paragraph below:

As bed numbers have fallen, England’s population has grown, from around 47.3 million in 1987 to approximately 56.6 million in 2020. As a result, the number of beds per capita has fallen faster than the absolute reduction in number of beds. Over this period, the number of older people in England – who are more likely to spend time in hospital – has also increased.”

43.7 million in 1987? World bank and ONS figures give the UK’s population as just under 57 million for that year. In 2020 the overall population figure is over 10 million higher at a shade under 67 million, putting even greater stress on the fewer beds available.

I’d tend to concur about the increasingly elderly in secondary health facilities like nursing homes. But memory is waving a hand here and is reminding me that this was a problem even as far back as the early 1980’s. Space in the public waiting rooms for God has always been at a premium.

I can recall some breakfast TV talking head using the ‘Oldies are hogging all the resources’ kind of rhetoric before 1990, coining terms like ‘bed blocking’, as if older people like getting ill and taking up bed space. If my family is any guide, they generally hate being in hospital, because there is always the suspicion that they might not come out breathing. This was a widely held belief at least back to the 1970’s.

One of the other factors currently putting even more pressure on hospital beds has been less reliance on primary health care sources like GP’s practices, with more shifting directly onto hospital A & E departments. Especially with undocumented newcomers who are not even registered with a GP. They bypass the buffer of GP’s and end up inflating the A & E queues. There is also a breed of Doctors receptionists who have not helped this situation by deflecting would be patients and forcing them to seek help in the only other place available. Other countries get around this, Canada and the USA being examples, by having ‘walk in’ clinics where anyone can go in off the street and get relatively affordable health interventions, no matter who they are.

Anecdote: I was in for major chest surgery in a UK midlands hospital in the mid 90’s (Cancer with a small c) and in the High Dependency Thoracic Unit I spent 3 days in there were 12 beds. Four of which were occupied by ethnic north Europeans, one of whom was myself. Six of the remaining 8 beds were occupied by elderly non-Europeans from the Indian subcontinent. Which at the time surprised me somewhat. Over 15 years before, during my time working on the wards, non-European patients were a rarity. Non-Europeans were commonplace among the staff, but not the patients.

And you can’t even blame it on any particular political party. The largest growth of NHS beds since the mid 1970’s occurred under the premiership of (gasp) that awful public health hating Margaret Thatcher, topping out at the end of her tenure as Prime Monster of the UK at 299,000 beds and thereafter declining throughout the Major, Blair and Brown administrations. Said decline continuing under Cameron, May and Johnson. This is the story the raw data tells.

Before that, during the late 1970’s, NHS capacity dropped 50,000 beds under the Callaghan Labour government, before Thatcher came to power. I mean, this is the Labour party that allegedly just Luuurrves socialised health care, right? Yet the biggest decline in NHS beds happened on whose watch?

Personally, having actually worked in the UK’s National Health Service, I think that there’s been a lot of political cheese paring over the years, trying to ‘cut costs’ and ‘improve’ the management of said organisation, but only ending up with a huge bureaucratic monstrosity chewing it’s way through everyone’s wage packet.

Of course this could have been mitigated by implementing a French style system where there is a basic service with additional top up, either by insurance or cash. Yet the propaganda soundbite machine has always been opposed to a ‘two tier NHS’, and so here the UK is, with a bureaucratic behemoth that is failing it’s original purpose.

As one who keeps his ear to the ground, I hear constant leaks from the health service front lines about management interference in clinical decisions. Just little trickles and dabs of information, but when viewed as a whole like an impressionist painting, these snippets paint a comprehensive picture which does not imbue one with a sense of confidence. Far from the utopian vision that brought about one size fits all care’s naissance.

For a little light relief, see the trailer for the satire ‘The National Health, or Nurse Norton’s affair’ below.

Yes I have seen Lindsay Anderson’s ‘Britannia Hospital’ – didn’t like it much, although some of the characters were awfully familiar.

What is that whirring sound? Oh, it’s only the political father of the NHS. Aneurin Bevan, spinning in his grave. As a semi serious aside, if we could harness all his rotational energy, maybe we could solve the unfolding energy crisis?

Talking of crises, I have to get back to packing my life away ready for the move. Next time some other bugger can have the pleasure.

Update: Just as a matter of interest; Canada has undergone a similar decline in hospital bed capacity since the 1970’s. In 1976 there were 6.92 beds per 1000 population. Now it’s 2.52. No wonder the politicians and their ‘experts’ are panicking.

Good news for a change

Those who support freedom of speech in the UK got a bit of a boost today. An ex-copper by the name Harry White who was put on the ‘Non crime hate crime’ list for liking a tweet, subsequently investigated by the Twatter squad for thought crime has just won a landmark judgement in the UK High Court. The practice of putting non-crime ‘Hate’ incidents upon a register in the UK must now end and it may well be that the records obtained over the last five or six years under this register now have to be deleted.

Coming on the back of Fraser Nelson’s revelations about policy driving science instead of the other way around, this is more good news. Those who were long derided as mere conspiracy nuts are being vindicated. To borrow a line from “A Knights Tale”

“Days like these are too rare to cheapen with heavy handed words.”

It almost restores my faith in human nature so it does. Fraser Nelson and Harry White should be added to the Queens New Years honours for these two victories alone. For these are knightly deeds and should be recognised as such.

For my own small part, my happy news is that ‘North’ is on her way and we’re going to collect her from the airport. Fingers crossed now. The only possible issue is that she might not be let back into the UK as the eejits are talking about locking down. As if that will do any good.

Causality is a harsh mistress

Difficult news day. Down in the fabled prison camp of Oz, ‘South’ has just been diagnosed with a SARS/COV-2 infection. She will miss Christmas as she now has to stay indoors for two weeks poor lamb. However, she’s young, fit and otherwise healthy, so she’ll be a bit rough over the weekend and be drumming her heels for the whole of Yule.

For our part we will try to keep her entertained via various video sharing platforms, and all her aunts and uncles will be likewise checking in from their quarantines. We have agreed to all work together to ensure she doesn’t feel isolated and alone. She’s got a good social circle too, so they will be pitching in to help where they can, but Christmas dinner for her will be a sad little sparkler in a glass of orange juice with the culinary horror of a TV dinner. We’ll make it up to her when she finally gets out. You can take that to the bank.

This side of the world it’s a bit touch and go whether ‘North’ will make it across the Irish sea next week. We’re paying for all her extra tests to satisfy the authorities that she is ‘clean’, but honestly I’m kept up nights worrying about the closing window of opportunity. At any time the regulators can slam the door on her leaving and there’s nothing we can do short of smuggling her out to Blackpool and hijacking or bribing a fishing boat or helicopter under the radar to bring her across.

I think I’ve made this point before, but this is abuse by Government diktat. The disease isn’t that bad, the “OHMYGAWD!” variant being more akin to a common cold at this stage if the data coming out of Sarf Efrika is to be taken at face value.

I am only heartened by watching the Tories getting drubbed in their supposedly ‘safe’ seat of Shropshire North, with the potential for another kicking at the ballot box at David Amess’s old seat of Southend West. Pity that not enough protest votes are going to Reform or Reclaim, but that’s for the conscience of the individual voter. They seem to think that keeping on voting for the same mainstream parties will make a change for the better. They will find that this decision will not help, because the legacy political classes are all heavily biased in favour of return to the tentacular grasp of the EU and yet more restrictions.

Unfortunately this will lead to causality writ large. Vote for a rejoiner party, even in protest, and this is what you will get. More pointless regulation of the minutiae of your lives. More masks, more lockdowns, and don’t you dare miss your scheduled jab citizen or it’s off to the COVID gulag with you. No, not them, you. Just because it is someone else’s turn this week does not mean that it won’t be yours next. No matter how far you bend the knee. It will never be enough. This is what giving your life over to doctors looks like. Cause, meet effect. Happy now?

Because those voting for ‘safety’ will only find out that causality is a very harsh mistress. Very harsh indeed.

Ready, set……oh.

Right, so about a quarter of the parliamentary tory party rebelled over Bojo the clown’s ‘plan B’, which as crap as any plan B can ever be. Plan B is always a poor second choice, and so it is for the dear old UK. Despite their opposition, the restrictions still got voted through.

Not of course that it’s any better over here. ‘North’ is (Was?) due to join us next week, and has gone for her ‘booster’ jab to ensure she can join us unmolested. New travel ‘guidance’ says she has to get a negative antigen or PCR test before getting on the plane. We’re offering to pay for her test, just to make sure she can travel. Just so we can have some quality time together. We’ll do the same for ‘South’ when she can get out of the great prison state of Oz.

For my part, I have elected to ignore the repeated messages saying I am ‘eligible’ for a ‘booster’. Given that the current round of the “OHMYGAWD!” variant is as harmless as a kitten on Valium, at least according to the Sarf Efricans who discovered it. So I won’t be bothering. I’ve had two jabs, and if those didn’t work then what’s the point of another? Thus far and no further. Stuff the mandates.

Yes, yes, I know one death with the “OHMYGAWD!” variant of COVID has been reported in the UK, but ‘with’ isn’t ‘of’. Which means that the deceased was found to have traces of virus (Live or dead) in their sinuses after a post mortem PCR swab test, no matter their actual cause of death. Said test does not mean that they were symptomatic or even infected, merely that they had traces of it in their sinuses when swabbed. That, even with my limited medical training, does not constitute a ‘case’.

Frankly I’m pissed off with the whole business, and a second Christmas ruined by these weak arse politicians and their control freak advisers is not being looked on kindly. Bastards. The f*cking bastards. Right this minute I f*cking hate the whole of the British and Irish Parliaments who voted for renewed restrictions. I hate the EU commission, the Scottish and Welsh assemblies, and I wish them all the harm in the world. I hope they all die of a particularly nasty and painful form of cancer. Next week for preference. Hell, I’ll even buy tickets to watch each of them writhe and die in agony.

Now that may sound like I’m over reacting, but I say, if you’re going to over-react you might as well go the whole hog. However, no matter what happens we’ll survive. I just want to see ‘North’ in person and give her a serious hug to tell her that the family guard dog (Me) is still a good ‘un and all will be well. I want to feed her, share a few daft Dad-jokes, warm her in front of a good Irish fire and in the New Year send her back to the great metrollops relaxed and refreshed. If you are a parent who is worth your salt you will feel this way. Anything that gets in the way instantly raises the red mist of vengeance.

Thinking about this, I can’t think of any other occasion where I’ve hated another group of people so much. And I do mean hate. Not some minor dislike, but borderline incandescent rage at being repeatedly cheated and gaslit over a bug which has done far less harm than the restrictions meant to contain it. I want their (The politicians, their ‘science’ advisers, enforcers and their snitches) lungs to catch fire so I can refuse to piss down their throats.

Maybe in Hell Satan will let me do that.

Just an observation

Sitting in a very nice coffee bar in Limerick the other day, waiting for Mrs S to get prodded and poked by a specialist medic, I looked up at a screen to see a Sky news report of Bojo the clown promising a hundred million quid of taxpayer dosh to ‘Break the drugs gangs’. Also ten-year drug strategy including rehabilitation for 300,000 drug users who are responsible for half of all acquisitive crimes. Proposals also include taking away the passports or driving licences of ‘middle-class’ drug users. Right, so that’s almost the entire UK Parliament needing chauffeurs and country houses then.

Yeah right. Like that’s going to work. Not. Never has in the past, why should it now. That’s three hundred million spondoolicks the UK taxpayer isn’t going to see again to no good purpose.

Also, who is to say that the powers given to the UK police to ‘break the drugs gangs’ will not be used upon those who object to the continuation of the COVID-19 vaccine medical trial? Using the false charge of ‘hate speech’. Or are further abused to confine us peons in order to placate the false gods of man made climate change?

While enjoying my coffee and wondering why the politicians are hunkering in their bunkers over the relatively harmless “OHMYGAWD!” variant, I was struck by the following thought; we need more freedom of speech, because without it, how do we divine someone’s true intent and know when to protect ourselves if they are hostile? Or react with humour if they are a good person who simply wants to share a laugh?

Because if this pandemic has proven one thing, it’s how abso-freaking-lutely useless modern governments are at actually protecting the people who vote them in. No matter how many restrictions they put on the rest of us, while laughing up their sleeves at us peasants.

On the subject of restrictions, we’d been shopping in LocalTown during last week, quietly taking the mick out of all the people who insist on wearing masks outdoors. We’d just entered the lift in a multi-storey car park when a lady pushing a shopping trolley loaded with Christmas goodies followed us in. We had not expected her to do so, so had already doffed the silly surgical masks the shops insist upon as a condition of entry. “Oh thank God.” She smiled, pulling her own mask down to take a welcome breath. “People who don’t believe in masks. Useless bloody things. I keep telling people, but no-one believes me.”

We agreed, shared pleasantries and she got off on the next floor, noting how relieved she had appeared to have encountered people who shared her contempt of mask culture. Which was a refreshing experience in these days of the random scold. Because this mass psychosis over a rapidly attenuating virus has brought all the holier-than-thou crowd out of the woodwork hasn’t it? Don’t these petty tyrants just love telling random strangers off or giving them the evil eye for non-conformity?

Which makes it such a nice experience when you meet someone else who hasn’t drunk the kool-aid.

Happy weekend everyone.

Storm red

Well that’s the weather warning for out here in the wilder west of Ireland, so I’ve got the logs in and lit the main stove ready while we watch trees cartwheeling through the air outside, or as the media drama queens would have us think.

‘Storm Red’ sounds jolly dramatic though doesn’t it, almost as though it’s primary purpose is to spread fear and dismay. While we were out this morning I also noted that good many of the businesses in LocalTown have actually shut up shop for the day.

Yes, it’s going to get a bit wet and windy, but having lived through some of the regular Winter storms on Vancouver Island BC, I think a few gusts of over 130km/h (80mph) won’t bother us much. Unless one of the local cows gets blown off it’s feet and dropped on the roof. Now wouldn’t that be a hoot? Steaks all round I think.

All that’s really required to sail through one of these events is to hunker down, put the kettle on, and make sure you have enough goodies, candles and firewood in for when the grid goes down.

In hindsight I really should have installed a new UPS so we could have some light, sound and vision when the power outages come, but we have books and enough lighting stuff, so I’m not bothered about that. We have heat, light, shelter and hot water. The Internet can go hang for a while.

At one point Mrs S put RTE on the car radio and we heard some brain dead presenter ask a meteorologist “Is this to do with climate change?” Media code for “Is this something we can scare the ignorant with and generate some clickbaity headlines to boost our ratings?” The meteorologist to his credit demurred, and said no, this was more to do with the jet stream coming further south than usual, but then again this storm won’t be as bad as the one back in 2014, or previously 2001 (I think). Nice to see a proper expert being asked for a change and not some ambitious academic who’s only set foot outside his university to go on holiday or when he needed his grant money topping up.

As the woman blithered on about other dramatic topics I finally asked Mrs S to turn the radio off as it was annoying me. Now we’re home, there’s coffee in hand and the fires are lit.

Well that’s it for the moment. Not much else to say apart from Bojo the Clown trying to appear all butch and decisive (And failing utterly) by trying to put in place some very stupid legislation indeed. See below.

Resurrecting an old joke

There is a joke so old that my father taught it to me. “The floggings will continue until morale improves. Signed, the Captain.” A real life variant of which was recorded in the 1960’s as “All liberty is cancelled until morale improves.” A more modern (and pertinent) variant might be “The restrictions will continue until our share prices drop.”

But there’s a study (From Harvard, if that impresses you) just out that demonstrates what some of us have been maintaining all along, that natural immunity is far better than the experimental vaccines alone. See below. Dr Syed discusses the study below.

So if what he’s saying is the unvarnished truth, if you’ve had the dreaded lurgi and recovered, then got vaccinated, congratters! Like me, you likely won’t get it again, regardless of ‘variant’. Unlike having the mRNA vaccines alone, where ‘breakthrough infections’ do happen and there is also a documented elevated heart and reinfection risk. Which is why I’m reluctant to get a ‘booster’. The risk / reward equation at this stage of the game does not seem favourable. I’m already immune, with brass knobs on and no returns, so why bother? I can’t catch it and am therefore unlikely to pass it on, Huzzah! World saved, half hols for everyone. Home for tea and medals.

So no more need for tests, masks, or vaccine passports or whatever. We’re all golden. South African sniffles notwithstanding. Herd immunity has been reached. If only the PCR test, which detects both live and dead virus, were replaced with antibody tests, then we would have a clearer picture of how the virus has propagated through the population and who is now immune. But maybe that would have been too easy.

Yet the UK is imposing even more restrictions, fining people two hundred smackers for getting on a bus without a mask. Which makes no sense. As does cancelling the vaccine passports of those who, like me, won’t bother with a vaccine booster. Especially as having the booster will entail entering a known sink of infection. A.k.a. a hospital.

We are immune. Unlike those who have been vaccinated without having caught the dreaded lurgi first, now they may get a dose, but will probably get the milder version, which is what the “OhmyGod” variant will give you anyway. Which is what the South Africans are saying.

Which sends us, in a circuitous manner, back to the beginning of this post. The punishments, because that’s what mask mandates and lockdowns are, will continue until the infections go away. Which will be never at this rate. Even if the measures to mitigate the outbreak don’t really work in the wider population. Because they have obviously failed to do so on the new strain in Scotland. As on the previous bugaboo delta ‘variant’, prompting the comment below;

‘The Scottish and English approach to masking, although formally different since July, has made no meaningful difference to Delta.’

     – Professor James Naismith FRS FRSE FMedSci FRSC FRSB. Professor of Structural Biology, Oxford University on England’s new mask rules

In hospitals, or in other natural reservoirs of infection, yes masks and elevated hygiene measures have a mitigating effect, but not outside in the wider world. There you might as well write a cheque to ward off double pneumonia, and continually beating people over the head with these restrictions will do nothing but breed further resentment.

Oh well, I have to pay the deposit on the new place today. The money has been waiting for weeks, so I might as well put it to work.

We’ve done all our Christmas shopping already. There’s only the fresh stuff and some Port and Sherry to get. Christmas cards go winging their way to UK family by Friday, so there’s not much else to do but wait around.

After that we’re packing. It’s going to be another one of those oddball Christmases.


I keep hearing this figure of 75,000 (Seventy five thousand) excess deaths at home in the UK not attributed to SARS/COV-2. Not sure if that’s the overall figure since March 2020 or just for the last 12 months.

75,000 people who died of not getting treated for heart attacks, strokes and other diseases. Not treated by the UK’s ‘world leading’ and ‘wonderful’ NHS.

Out of a population 0f 67 million it’s a drop in the ocean, but I’m sure the families of those who got locked out of the NHS their taxes pay for will agree, it’s a small price to pay for controlling COVID (Do I have to post a /sarc tag here?) Which the lockdowns didn’t.

To all those people who advocated for the lockdowns, is 75,000 extra dead enough? Doesn’t matter. So long as it’s not you, eh?