You're Fired!

Donald trump has ‘terminated’ the head of the FBI.  That simple. Because he runs the show the only way he knows how, as if it were one of his business enterprises (and it probably is). I am the boss, you are my underling, you will do as I say. Period.

This should come as no surprise. After all, it was what he promised during the election campaign. Enough pc, let’s just get on with the job.

The real test is for democracy itself. Although not a perfect system by any means, it at least fends off would-be dictators, and, in theory, limits abuse of power generally. Trump will try to bring it to its knees, and his paid cohorts will gladly help him to achieve that. As will a certain number of foreign powers, with their own particular agendas.

Let us hope that the institutions of USA are strong enough to resist.  If not, God Bless America.

A Dirty Word

Politics (from Greek: Politiká: Politika, definition "affairs of the cities") is the process of making decisions applying to all members of each group. Wikipedia.

A dirty job, but somebody has to do it.

And there’s the rub. For who knows what kind of scheming, corrupt, small-minded, over-ambitious, two-faced megalomaniacs will run for office?

Politicians have given politics a bad name.  Just mention the word and everybody yawns, or groans or reaches for the bottle. Should anyone warm to the subject, the rest will wander off and leave them to it. Politics is boring, politics is a farce.

To the gallery they are public servants, sacrificing themselves to the god of the common weal, but we all know they vote according to their own interests.

Politicians are allowed, even expected, to lie. They can change their opinion and position mid sentence, no worry. If they make a promise, a solemn vow, it can be taken with a pinch of salt. Promises are made to be broken.

So we are asked, every so often, to choose between being robbed a little but controlled a lot, or being robbed a lot, but controlled less. If they win, they make a killing, if they lose, they make a living.

So voting becomes a chore. Thinking about different policies a pointless task. Politics? No thanks!

Which was the plan from the start. Leave it all in their capable hands. Let them get on with it. So that while we watch TV or chat in the bar, these boring, slippery types can decide for us exactly where our money goes.

And guess where it goes.

Fresh Kills

It is relatively easy to start a forest fire, often a stray cigarette butt is enough, but it is incredibly difficult to put out.

Incendiary Geopolitics has been lighting fires across the world for centuries. Sparks fly on the wind and light new fires, and now there is little left to burn. 

The endless tit for tat of attack/retaliation, the suicidal policy of scorched earth, will leave us all with third degree burns and nothing to eat.

Today it is Syria, tomorrow….

After the 9/11 attack, the USA sought revenge. Those who suffered that reaction sought a vendetta of their own. And so on.

After the 9/11 attack, the rubble from the destruction of the twin towers was taken to the municipal landfill site aptly named Fresh Kills.

How long will this song be relevant?

Rock

Gibraltar, the gateway to the Mediterranean, a majestic rock crowning the bay of Algeciras, often shrouded in mist as if trying to hide from the curious gaze of Africa.

Gibraltar, the most Spanglish place on earth, a town of Bobbies with thick regional accents and perfect English, tapas and fish and chips, where corned beef becomes ‘carne con bif’.

Gibraltar, the border town, the tax haven, the military base, the foreign territory.

Gibraltar, the bone of contention.

When it could be so different. Imagine a Gibraltar with no frontier, no customs, no high fences. Imagine Gibraltar with no naval base, no military buildings, no streets full of uniformed young squaddies. Imagine the whole bay of Algeciras, with La Línea and San Roque, from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, with its beaches and scenery, studded with hotels, a casino perhaps, a marina.

Gibraltar could be the jewel of the south. The history, the geography, the mixed cultures of Spain, Africa and Northern Europe. The Barbary apes, the amazing cave systems in the rock itself, the weather, the cuisine….

Maybe one day the nostalgic imperialists will all have faded away, and the people of Gibraltar, Los Llanitos, and their understanding neighbours  (they know each other, respect each other, without the need for political intervention), will be able to give back to the area the dignity and beauty it deserves.

Dirty words

We are living a classic reactionary backlash to the undeniable excesses of political correctness. For too many years we have been avoiding certain terms for fear of offending certain sensitive groups. In itself that is a noble idea, but as always it went too far. Terminology became muddled, and many in the media spotlight fell foul to pc's draconian laws. The right to consider phrases uttered, often with the best intent, as offensive, reigned supreme. Enough is enough.
So plain speaking people like Trump felt like a breath of fresh air.
But what you gain on the roundabout...
There are now a number of new words to be avoided at all costs, a kind of mirror version of pc.
The list is long, but here are a few of the new taboo words.
Tolerance, equality, compassion, dignity, solidarity, human rights, international co-operation, environment, social welfare, medical care, freedom....
As Nick Lowe asked so many years ago (all this is cyclical, of course) 'What's so funny about peace, love and understanding?'

Pasaporte Europeo

Llevo más de treinta años viviendo en España, pero todavía tengo pasaporte británico. Ahora tengo el derecho a convertirme en ciudadano español, por el tiempo que llevo y porque estoy casado con una española.

Sin embargo he pospuesto solicitar la nacionalidad española porque esperaba que un día todos seríamos sencillamente Europeos, y que todo esto de pasaportes españoles, británicos, franceses o alemanes sería cosa del pasado. Más o menos como la peseta, el franco o el marco.

Ahora, con Brexit, mis planes han sido truncados. Una vez más nos dividimos. Debo escoger entre una cosa o la otra. La inclusión no es una opción.

Crear un pasaporte europeo no parece estar en la agenda política. Quizás ha llegado la hora de promover la idea, por un sentido de unidad, y con la esperanza de que el proyecto europeo no sea sólo un sueño imposible, sino un futuro inevitable, deseable y posible.

The European Passport

I have lived in Spain for over thirty years, but I still hold a UK passport. I now have the right to become a Spanish citizen, as I have lived and worked here for so long and have a Spanish wife.

However I have put off applying for Spanish citizenship because I was hoping that one day soon we would all of us become simply Europeans, and the whole idea of Spanish, British, French, German etc passports would become a thing of the past. Much like the peseta, the franc, the mark.

Now, with Brexit, my best laid plans have been spoilt. Once again the old divisions. I must choose to be either one or the other – inclusion is not an option.

The creation of a European passport does not appear to be on the agenda. Perhaps it is time to promote the idea, for the sake of unity and a feeling that project Europe is not just a hopeless dream but an inevitable, desirable, attainable future.