Decades ago, at school, we had boxing. It was compulsory, after a certain age. You had to train for it, but nothing prepared me for facing my deskmake, in the ring, in front of the whole school, for 3 rounds. We didn't want to hurt each other, so we dodged about. And then he hit me. End of round 1. Round 2, I felt obliged to hit back so, near the the end, I hit him. Round 3. Near the end, I let him hit me. I didn't hurt.
In a subsequent bout, a gentle giant friend of mine gave his opponent, an equally harmless chap, a nosebleed and then proceeded to pound his bleeding nose. It was shocking. The fight was stopped.
Later on, a notorious school bully was given a severe pasting by a seemingly inocuous bloke who had very long arms. Despite the obvious suffering taking place, the pasting was allowed to continue to the bitter end, with the full support of the staff! His bullying days were over.
The following year, boxing was discontinued.
A few years later, I was working as a student teacher in a primary school off the Old Kent Road. There was a nasty incident of verbal racial abuse by an obnoxious white boy against a black girl. I was aware of boxing gloves and ropes for a boxing ring in the stores. Clearly, there had been boxing on the curriculum in the past. I took it upon myself to have the matter resolved by physical combat. Without consulting the headteacher, I arranged for a match on the rooftop playground after school. After 30 seconds of continuous pummelling to the white boy's face, I stopped the match and declared the black girl the winner. No further racial incidents ocurred while I was there.
Tuesday 29 May 2012
Monday 28 May 2012
Xenophobia
I was born in London, UK, in 1950. On my father's side, I can trace my ancestors to middle England, 400 years ago and my maternal grandparents were Londoners, but I have not yet traced them back any further. Despite this, I have always been considered 'foreign looking', not only in my own country, but everywhere else, except Turkey. My uncle was arrested during World War 2 on suspision of being an Italian spy, being in posession of thick black curly hair, a dark complexion and a bicycle.
I'm pretty sure my father's mother was Jewish which, although denied by family members, makes him Jewish, because if your mother is Jewish, you are Jewish. Fortunately for me, when my father was captured by the Nazis as a British soldier, they had no access to his family records. Otherwise I would not exist.
I heard on the radio that we British are 90% pre Roman in terms of DNA and that the invaders have only imposed a 10% overlay. Also, we can draw a line at 1940 being descendants of those born here as being British. That's fairly consistent with the definitive historical work '1066 and all that', which concludes that English history ends with the conclusion of World War 2. This was written before the Suez crisis, but is broadly correct.
We imported Indians to work in the car tyre industry because they could work in the high heat and humidy required to manufacture the stuff. The rationale for importing West Indians to work as bus conductors in London is a little less obvious, but the sad result is that bus conducters are no longer required, resulting in gangs of unemployed black youth roaming the the streets, armed with guns and knives, denims hanging at half mast and bombarding us white folks with rap, bling and attitude, plus increased street violence, burglary and muggings.
But that is not the worst of it. We can cope with disorganised, self destructive, in fighting dumb niggers. We built a dubious empire out of that. The bigger threat is semi intelligent eastern Europeans who know how to play the game to their own advantage and suck us UK tax payers dry. They lack culture, they have no clue about cricket and shout into their mobile phones in their own offensive languages with no regard for others.
I now have 'Kosovans' as neighbours. They are really Albanian economic refugees, encouraged by the likes of Paddy Ashdown as legitimate refugees from an oppressive Serbian persecution.
They are not bad people, but their peasant Albanian culture is not compatible with mine. My attempts to educate them in the concept of a garden is hard work, not helped by the fact that the landlords of the rented property are Indians, whose concept of a low maintenance garden is concrete.
It could get even worse. Somalis.
I fear I am becoming legend.
I'm pretty sure my father's mother was Jewish which, although denied by family members, makes him Jewish, because if your mother is Jewish, you are Jewish. Fortunately for me, when my father was captured by the Nazis as a British soldier, they had no access to his family records. Otherwise I would not exist.
I heard on the radio that we British are 90% pre Roman in terms of DNA and that the invaders have only imposed a 10% overlay. Also, we can draw a line at 1940 being descendants of those born here as being British. That's fairly consistent with the definitive historical work '1066 and all that', which concludes that English history ends with the conclusion of World War 2. This was written before the Suez crisis, but is broadly correct.
We imported Indians to work in the car tyre industry because they could work in the high heat and humidy required to manufacture the stuff. The rationale for importing West Indians to work as bus conductors in London is a little less obvious, but the sad result is that bus conducters are no longer required, resulting in gangs of unemployed black youth roaming the the streets, armed with guns and knives, denims hanging at half mast and bombarding us white folks with rap, bling and attitude, plus increased street violence, burglary and muggings.
But that is not the worst of it. We can cope with disorganised, self destructive, in fighting dumb niggers. We built a dubious empire out of that. The bigger threat is semi intelligent eastern Europeans who know how to play the game to their own advantage and suck us UK tax payers dry. They lack culture, they have no clue about cricket and shout into their mobile phones in their own offensive languages with no regard for others.
I now have 'Kosovans' as neighbours. They are really Albanian economic refugees, encouraged by the likes of Paddy Ashdown as legitimate refugees from an oppressive Serbian persecution.
They are not bad people, but their peasant Albanian culture is not compatible with mine. My attempts to educate them in the concept of a garden is hard work, not helped by the fact that the landlords of the rented property are Indians, whose concept of a low maintenance garden is concrete.
It could get even worse. Somalis.
I fear I am becoming legend.
Food of the gods
Also known as Ambrosia. Gods, being immortal, need no food, or maybe they rely on anbrosia to keep them immortal, in which case: who makes the stuff for them and what is the formula?
It's been a while since the age of reason, yet we still talk and think in terms of the sun rising and setting, as if the world is flat and the sun revolves around it. Around 2 billion folk call themselves christians, believing they can do whatever they please, so long as they say sorry before they die and then they can live forever in paradise. Even if this were true, how can they imagine that spending eternity with people like themselves would be any better than how they live now? The sad answer is yes, but no better. Just a continuation, including all the bad bits that they cling onto as the only vaguely interesting parts of their lives. The popularity of soaps relies on this. You can see them all still queing up for lottery tickets and scratch cards even though they have achieved eternity!
For those of us who see certain death as a welcome relief from the crap of current culture, here is a palliative:
It's been a while since the age of reason, yet we still talk and think in terms of the sun rising and setting, as if the world is flat and the sun revolves around it. Around 2 billion folk call themselves christians, believing they can do whatever they please, so long as they say sorry before they die and then they can live forever in paradise. Even if this were true, how can they imagine that spending eternity with people like themselves would be any better than how they live now? The sad answer is yes, but no better. Just a continuation, including all the bad bits that they cling onto as the only vaguely interesting parts of their lives. The popularity of soaps relies on this. You can see them all still queing up for lottery tickets and scratch cards even though they have achieved eternity!
For those of us who see certain death as a welcome relief from the crap of current culture, here is a palliative:
Beerenauslesen: For a couple of years I managed to get a few half
bottles of this superb and uncommon medium sweet German white wine from
Aldi just before Xmas at a very reasonable price, but sadly no more.
However, this recipe, for 1 gallon, comes pretty close, if left for a
year:
4 lb parsnips
1 ltr pineapple juice
1 ltr white grape juice
680 g cheap clear honey
12 oz sugar
1/4 tsp tannin
2 tsp pectic enzyme
1 1/4 tsp tartaric acid
25 g glycerin
1 tsp yeast nutrient
Yeast, preferably sauternes
Chop parsnips, boil 20 mins in 5 pints of water, strain onto juice, add honey, tannin, acid and glycerin. When cool, add pectic enzyme, nutrient and yeast. Strain after 3 days then add sugar. When fermentation, racking and clearing complete, leave for a year before drinking.
4 lb parsnips
1 ltr pineapple juice
1 ltr white grape juice
680 g cheap clear honey
12 oz sugar
1/4 tsp tannin
2 tsp pectic enzyme
1 1/4 tsp tartaric acid
25 g glycerin
1 tsp yeast nutrient
Yeast, preferably sauternes
Chop parsnips, boil 20 mins in 5 pints of water, strain onto juice, add honey, tannin, acid and glycerin. When cool, add pectic enzyme, nutrient and yeast. Strain after 3 days then add sugar. When fermentation, racking and clearing complete, leave for a year before drinking.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)