The complete opposite to the list Ian Dury came up with in 1979. Reasons To Be Cheerful, Part 3. Why the song is part 3, I have no idea.
I say this although it’s difficult to come up with the opposite to “Cheddar cheese and pickle, the Vincent motorsickle”.
How about: Cheesy strings and things, the brothers of Kings (just to be mildly controversial).
One shilling and seven pence, that’s what a copy of Flight magazine cost in 1960. Today, roughly that’s equivalent to £6. Which is not so far off the weekly cost of a typical printed magazine taken off-the-shelf in a newsagent. Now, Flight is a digital subscription[1] at £22 a month. We consume our News in a different way, but the overall price is not so different.
Spending money in charity shops always contributes to some good cause or another. Certainly, our British High Streets in 2026 are markedly transformed from that of 66 years ago. Fine, if I get hung up on that elegant number. It’s not a bingo call. It’s the number of times I’ve circled the Sun. Circled, that is, while safely attached to this rocky planet.
The young woman behind the counter was chatting to what must have been a regular when she looked up. I pointed an unregarded dusty box on the floor in the corner of the shop. “How much to you want for that box of old aviation magazines”. She looked slightly fazed. Nobody had even thought about pricing them let alone selling them. They had probably been donated as someone emptied the attic of their grandparents. Probably on the verge of going to the recycling bin.
Eventually, we settled on a modest price. She looked me up and down. I’m sure she thought that I was completely mad. That said, charity shop workers, volunteers, must face that colourful situation more than a couple of times a week. Even a day.
What struck me was the first inside page. The weekly editorial could have been written yesterday. It’s titled “Facing it” and reads thus:
“More than one great newspaper has given warning that our nation is living beyond its means – that our export prospects are poor, and that we are taking a commercial thrashing”.
“Bleak prospects for a people who have never had it so good, and one that promotes us to consider how the aircraft industry is facing up to cold reality.”
It went on to highlight that there had been few new aircraft at the Farnborough airshow of that year. It was an October publication[2]. There was a lot of talk about industry and Government cooperation but that this was not delivering.
“And now that the industry is needed, as it has never been needed before, it will not be found unready or unwilling.”
But the lament was about the failings of the Government of the time, and there being no room for complacency. This was 4-years after the Suez Crisis.
Today, we have an increased security threat, much as arose in the Cold War days. Industry and Government cooperation needs to be a lot more than fervent aspirations. We seem to be in the same phase of formulating strategies rather than implementing actions.
Don’t let me paint a picture of gloom and doom. What this Flight magazine had is great stories of British technical innovation. Electronics and control systems were advancing rapidly. Automatic landing systems were being pioneered. Technology applied improved aircraft performance and aviation safety significantly. In fact, in numerous areas Britain was not only leading, but guiding the world.
[1] https://www.flightglobal.com/subscribe
[2] Flight Number 2691 Volume 78.
One of the motivators in politics is that prospect of the shining city on the hill. The ability of an able politician to articulate a vision of a future where aspirations are met, harmony pervades the land and the world becomes a better place for all. Naturally, this expression has religious originals. That interweaving of religion and politics is hardly new. It’s us. It’s us humans who give form to our desire to see our communities thrive and adversity overcome.
However, this ability to project hope isn’t the only tool in the politician’s toolbox. The other side of the coin is fear. Sadly, this gets used just as much as in rhetorical flurries and backroom decisions making. As the week has passed so there’s been a fair amount of both.
I like to think that, of the two, hope transcends. It is not an even coin. Our in-built propensity to strive regardless of the barriers and failures along the way, that’s powerful.
What am I saying? It’s that loosing sight of the shining city on the hill and getting stuck in the weeds of everyday gloom and despondency, that’s the monster problem.
Scandals will come and go. It’s a national preoccupation. That’s not to say that such each and every one deserves significant attention. In the most recent one, involving the UK Prime Minister (PM) and a prominent former Labour politician, there’s clearly much work to do.
It seems to me that the whole process of making appointments to significant national posts needs a thorough review. The discretionary powers that a PM has are a key part of the job, but that exercise of power without sufficient scrutiny has led to dangerous errors being made.
Thus, we have a serious man who espoused a brilliant future, at the last UK General Election, only to deliver more of the same. True, the current PM hasn’t yet plummeted the depths of the Johnson or Truss era. A wave of relief sounded across the nation when those two Conservative politicians were effectively banished.
Righteousness is not something that sits well with a cynic. And our daily News loves to adopt a cynical tone. Every journalist must have a streak of it running through them like a stick of rock. On the positive side, in many ways when political scrutiny fails it’s the News media that we depend up. Maybe to shine a light on the less than shiny city on the hill.
At this moment in early 2026 there’s good reason to be concerned. Now, at the dispatch box in the House of Commons we have two gladiators who want to make mincemeat of the opponent but are each covered in a disagreeable mess. Both as a legacy of incidents that their Party has had a hand in. It’s easy to say – twas ever so. Only that’s not good enough in 2026.
It’s as if both Party leaders have wadded through a muddy smelly swamp to meet face to face. To meet covered in mud, slime and weeds that they have dragged with them. Not an attractive sight. Neither in a position to project the prospect of a shining city on the hill. Credibility is low with both parties. These are strange times.
[What might happen if more than 45 Conservative MPs jump to the Reform Party? Crossing the house could become an avalanche breakdown. Will we see the Liberal Democrats as His Majesty’s official Opposition? That would surely put the cat amongst the pigeons.].
I wouldn’t for one moment propose that the palace of Westminster be demolished. It’s an iconic landmark. No, my point is that the building is entirely ill-suited to be a 21st century parliament building. What served well in the Victorian period now restraints and stultifies its occupants.
Across the great river Thames is another iconic building, London’s Country Hall. That’s no longer an important seat of local government. Throughout the country there are hundreds of former Town Halls, now put to other uses. Lots of listed buildings that are rightly preserved as part of our unique British heritage.
I’m reacting to the News story about the cost of repairs to the Houses of Parliament. Possibly six-decades of work at the cost of tens of billions of pounds. Parliamentarians, who may never see the work finished, will need to decide on different potential courses of action.
Let’s be clear. Six-decades ahead takes us to the year 2086. Those at school now will, they hope, be retired as the final lick of paint is applied. Not only that but who on earth can realistically predict the final cost to the taxpayer of such a never-ending project?
This brings home what real long-term planning is all about. Do we adopt a myopic vision based on sentimentality and stick with the existing palace of Westminster or take a different approach.
Buildings, their structure and form, do shape the way we behave. What would be the point of celebrated architecture if such was irrelevant to the human experience. This has been understood in both Germany and Australia.
British architect Norman Foster’s reconstruction of the Reichstag in Berlin[1], finished in 1999, transformed a 19th-century building into a modern, transparent seat of democracy.
The architecture of Parliament House[2] in Canberra is well worth a tour. To be able to walk over the hill, and on top of the building is a profound statement that suites Australians so well.
My view is that an ambitious nation would look at the next sixty years as an opportunity to forge an identity suited to the future not the past.
So, British Parliamentarians move out of Westminster and look for another solution.
The great River Thames is part of our national story in a way that other rivers are not. The River Severn may be longer, not by a lot, but it doesn’t have the navigation that made the Thames and the city of London so pivotal in our national story. What other locations on the River Thames would fit the bill? Likely more central but remaining well connected. My suggestion might shock some people and create an instant rejection.
Our national story is one of roads, rivers, canals and railways. Moving inland along the path of the River Thames, a fast efficient railway service leads to a large town, not yet a city. The ruins of Reading Abbey, founded by King Henry I in 1121 “for the salvation of my soul,” reminds me that a sense of continuity has its place. That’s apt. For the salvation of the souls of our elected representatives, why not choose Reading.
I’m not saying the famous Reading Gaol[3] could be repurposed. Anyway, it’s been sold. But there are numerous sites in that town where a new parliament building would shine a beacon of hope.
[1] https://www.fosterandpartners.com/projects/reichstag-new-german-parliament
[2] https://www.aph.gov.au/Visit_Parliament
[3] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ballad_of_Reading_Gaol
I believe the Scottish word for it is – Dreich. With that spelling it almost sounds German. I’d pronounce it as dreek. What this means is the weather is dull, damp, gloomy, and miserable. Overcast, wintery, with intermittent drizzle and rain never seeming to give up. Couldn’t be a better word to describe it – Dreich.
That was yesterday. There’s a good chance that today will be the same. Not unusual for February. That said, the cumulative impact is that the ground water is rising and the rivers are topped right up to the brim. That rock hard, dusty, tinder dry summer of last year is as if it was a million years ago. What water shortage?
Outside the bird life is flourishing in these damp conditions. I saw a large white Egret was doing a morning stroll oblivious to the drizzle. Up top a tall dead tree a Cormorant was surveying its territory. Ducks are playfully buzzing around the river’s edge. The Canadian Geese are doing what they do every day. Foraging for anything of interest.
It does not good to complain about this uninspiring weather. Although it’s a cultural phenomenon, the weather is the biggest sources of small talk in this country. “You’re not made of sugar, get out there and do something”. I maybe miss remembering these parental words. It’s clear that mulling around indoors and constantly whining isn’t a good formula for mental health.
Add to the gloom and despondency the daily dose of British politics. So many of us had hoped that replacing one group of deafening incompetent politicians with a duller set would mean that stuff gets done. The boring, but necessary, tasks of governing would be accomplished without endless calamities. Faint hope.
For lunch, to escape the incessant rain, I sat down in a coffee shop. The place was busy. Everyone coming in to get out of the rain. Shaking off umbrellas and drying out raincoats. I had to look around to find a comfortable place to sit. Near the entrance. Next to me were an older couple and their granddaughter. It’s impossible not to earwig in such situations. We exchanged a couple of polite smiles.
Here I recount what fascinated me about the generational gap. The young girl didn’t put her mobile phone down once, in so far as I could see. It was clear from the conversation that she was not allowed to use her mobile at school. Phones were confiscated. If my observation indicates anything, it’s that banning phones just mean more mobile phone use when the opportunity presents itself.
Politics reared its head in their conversation. The granddaughter was monosyllabic about the subject. Maybe it was one she studies at school. She carried on scrolling. Unsolicited grandfatherly advice came across the table. To paraphrase – You should watch that man Jacob Rees-Mogg on GB News. He speaks very good English. He makes a lot of sense. The young girl carried on scrolling.
Oh brother! There’s a generational gap summary in a couple of rainy-day minutes.
I had one grandfather on my mum’s side. On my dad’s side my grandfather died relatively young. Both were West Country farmers. The grandfatherly advice I got was more to do with hard work. Not so much to do with politics. That is except for amusement about the hippies that turned up at the village of Pilton every year. That became the Glastonbury festival. Given that my grandfather had experience of the First World War, that must have been quite a contrast.
Controversy is bubbling away like a broken pressure cooker suck on a high gas flame. I’m just writing about the words spoken in Parliament, yesterday. The case of the British “prince of darkness” is one for the textbooks. This man, who acquired the title “prince of darkness[1]” long ago, is Peter Mandelson. Now, formerly a Labour Party member, he’s slithered through political life, in the UK and Europe, dragging controversy everywhere he’s been.
Honestly, I don’t want to write about this politician. A casebook study of a follower of Niccolò Machiavelli’s brutal manual for would-be leaders. Being a “prince” in this century, and the last, seems to bring out the very worst in those who are given the title. It’s fine for fiction to be dotted with so called “evil genius” characters but in real life these are people best avoided.
At the heart of the recent News is not just a betrayal. It’s the habits and lives of powerful people acting in a way that assumes an immunity from any accountability. Evidence that greedy people collude behind closed doors to line their own pockets. That morals go out of the window.
I continue to believe that most politicians in the UK Parliament are motivated to make the world a better place. They go to Westminster to try to make a difference. To fulfil that adage to: “Try and leave this world a little better than you found it.”
I make this assertion not in a naive way. Afterall, I’ve stood for election more than a few times. Quite a lot, in fact. Over several decades. Sadly, never with any great amount of success. Often meeting people on the same journey. Most of those people I met are putting themselves forward to right some wrong or use their expertise for the public good and make a difference.
At the heart of the recent News is a moral vacuum too. This vulgar belief that ingratiating oneself with unethical wealthy individuals has no consequence. Instead of protecting the public interest and exposing corruption, a considerable number of influential men have chosen to either turn a blind eye or adopt disgraceful practices.
On first meeting, I admit that it’s not always possible to know of the evils that another person may have committed. What’s shocking now is the distinct lack of curiosity that seems to have been exhibited by many prominent people. That’s the generous (Christian) interpretation.
The exhibition of misogyny revealed in the information that has been released in the US is disgusting. It’s way beyond that simple expression. If we are to move forward as a society these behaviours must be eradicated. To leave this world a little better than we found it, change must not just be a word that’s sprinkled into public speeches. Behavioural change must materialise.
Yes, we all have a responsibility in this respect. No looking the other way or pretending that unacceptable behaviours are not happening. Call them out. Especially those with a public voice.
How life has changed. In the time of black and white TV I remember watching Jack Hargreaves[1] wibbling on about a lost countryside. A romantic world of idyllic landscapes. Rolling English hills and green hedges. His series “Out of Town” played for a generation. To his credit he did focus on people and the way they lived their lives as much as the scenic backdrops.
He’s cheerily derogatory about the urban environment. Although he does take on the sentimentality that people have towards the countryside. In ways he’s a latter-day green campaigner. With a past century traditional style.
This memory is sparked by me thinking about colds and flu. Winters accompaniments. Changeable January weather torments us in one way and in another gives us a tempting glimmer of the spring to come. It really is wet wet wet.
Ground water has risen to form shallow pools in the swamy field out back. This is much to the liking of the geese and a lone heron. The river Lambourn hasn’t yet bust its banks but that can’t be far off. Cloudy today with more rain on the way.
I’m fortunate in being in relatively good health. I’ve had my bout of winter blues. Now, I’m noticing the slightly shorter shadows when the sun shines. Everything is sodden. Hints of the season changing are out there. It’s the blubs that are trusting upwards from the soggy soil.
What do I attribute my good health to? I wouldn’t put it down to heathy living although the maximum of all things in moderation does appeal. In part, maybe it’s because I grew up in the world that Jack Hargraves documented. On a west country farm were muck and mud were plentiful at this time of year. Deep soggy and unavoidable.
I don’t know if youthful the exposure to muck and mud has a lifetime benefit. It certainly seems to be one theory that is put around. The idea that a person’s immune system learns about all the nasties that are encountered. It then adapts and knows how to fight off the worst of them.
My, and my brothers, inoculation consisted of a wheelbarrow, a pitchfork and a mountain of manure. Shifting this delightful stuff from farm sheds was mostly a manual task in the 1960s. Now, it’s a case of jumping on a Bobcat[2] or JCB and driving up and down until the job is done.
Solid stone-built farm buildings, like our cart shed were never intended for the use that my parents put them to. Keeping cattle indoors during the winter months. Layers of straw and muck accumulated their bedding grew in hight. By the time it was dry enough to let the cattle out into the surrounding fields their bedding was almost as deep as I was tall.
That’s how we earned our pocket money. A wheelbarrow, pitchforks and hundreds of trips backwards and forwards shifting muck. Creating a big pile in the farmyard. Then that got loaded into a muck spreader. The most organic fertiliser that can be spread on the land.
This memory is sparked. Looking at a cliff like face of compressed muck that went back for what seemed like miles. Digging away at it endlessly. Wheelbarrow load after load. A Sisyphean task, where only dogged persistence would pay off. No wonder I was a healthy young man.
Ten years ago, the world was a different place. “The past is a foreign country”. That bit is true. I still had an apartment is Cologne. Although, that phase of my life was coming to an end. The first two months of 2016 were about wrapping up the loose ends. Deregistering, as is the way when leaving German. Coming to a settlement with my landlord. Packing up and moving back to the UK. Saying goodbye to my regular haunts. Saying goodbye to a wonderful city.
Being an astute watcher of the UK political landscape, I could see that a vail of discontent was hovering over my homeland. There was a frustration amongst those in government. Can this endless debate about the UK’s place in Europe be resolved? Can it be knocked on the head once and for all?
The UK Prime Minister (PM), David Cameron was sitting on a small majority after the General Election of 2015. Conservatives were nervous but wanting to retake the agenda by trying to put to bed the Europe question. As it turns out Cameron made a grave mistake. He entertained the notion of a national referendum to advise the government on what to do next. An act that was uncommon to the UK’s normal way of doing business.
Probably one of the most foolish political acts a UK PM has taken in a very long time. Naturally, in 2016 few had an idea of the chaos that would be unleashed by this attempt at quelling internal Conservative Party wranglings. It’s true that these wranglings were not new. Just perpetual or should I say perennial.
My return to the UK wasn’t a celebration of the achievements we had made in Europe. That collectively we were in a much better place than before. That we had build something to be proud of. No, it was more of a submersion into an angry and emotional row. A heated row littered with misinformation and just simple run of the mill nonsense.
As I write this it’s plainly evident that the experiment, that was Brexit, damaged the country. Not only that but it resolved nothing. Instead of settling an issue it stirred up animosities and tribal conflicts. Today’s soap opera on the right-wing of UK politics is evidence enough of unresolved rivalries and ideological divides. An insular mindset and unresolvable differences.
In January 2016, there was no practical plan to leave the European Union (EU). It was almost unthinkable. Surely sensibility would prevail. That’s the political trap that Cameron fell into. Dare I say an almighty display of his cultured public-school arrogance. Convinced that if arguments were put to the public authoritatively, logically and rationally a remain result would be a simple foregone conclusion. That the political risks were manageable. That’s how wrong a man in power can be.
Moving on a decade. Yes, it is that long. Lots of water under the bridge. To the idiots on stage now, I say: the UK is not broken. It surely isn’t in as good a place as it could be. Had Brexit not taken place then we’d all be much more prosperous. We would be contenting with continuity. That includes squabbling right-wingers, but the fact is that they will never ever desist.
What’s sad is that the opinion polls say that a significant number of people want more of the same. More nonsense from the people who brought us Brexit in the first place. More from those doomsters and has-beens who complain without any realistic ideas of how to solve problems. A karnival of conmen.
Now, in the UK we have two right leaning political parties that are almost the same. One being the Conservatives and the other Reform. Each trying to outdo each other to attract the same voters. Stirring up discontent wherever they can find it. Projecting a negative image of the country whenever they speak. Feuding in a way that should convince people that neither is fit to govern.
POST: These folk explain it all in clay. Claysplained (@claysplained) • Instagram photos and videos
OK so there’s the predicable amount of sentimentality. Yes, it makes the story human. Great and cataclysmic events don’t grab attention unless they are associated with the human experience. That’s not entirely true. There will always be nerds, like me, who are drawn in by the facts and the creativity of structure and form.
“The War Between the Land and the Sea[1]” is a well-crafted combination human stories and an imaginative fictional expanse. It’s a spin-off of the world of Dr Who. However, what Russell T Davies has created is a more grounded drama about the here and now. Whoops – shouldn’t have used the word “grounded.” This made for broadcast science fiction story is about our Earthly reality. Two thirds of our beautiful planet is water. Earth is as much about water as it is about dry land.
He’s not the first screen writer to imagine a world dominated by water. If I remember rightly, there’s that terrible American movie Waterworld[2]. I say terrible even though it was atypical of 1990s cinema watching. A better point of reference, and a motivation to wall-up a stock of baked beans on high ground somewhere in the English countryside, is “The Kraken Wakes.” Now, there’s an exceptionally fine story from one of my favourite authors, namely John Wyndham.
Russell T Davies taps into ancient sailor’s stories of scary monsters in the deep. The lure of the unknow. Even with our expansive knowledge of the cosmos, humanity is still largely ignorant of the world of the deep ocean. Discoveries are arising year by year.
I can imagine some hard-nosed right-wing commentators will be sniffy about the focus on climate change and the dangers of the melting of the polar icecaps. To some extent, this is incidental to the story. I don’t think the “The War Between the Land and the Sea” is too preachy.
Strangely enough I was initially put off by the BBC’s repetitive advertising of the series. As if they were nervous of the risks of making it in the first place and that few would watch this drama. Let’s put that aside. This is an excellent British television drama. It’s more adult than Dr Who. By storyboarding the global angsts of the day and combining it with a fantasy that’s full of twists and turns, this is well worth a watch.
I hope the BBC drama will be brave enough to continue in this direction. New, imaginative, science fiction that’s not afraid of posing the “what if” questions. As we endure the manipulation of the daily News that spins fears and gives airtime to conspiracy theories, so fiction and reality can get blurred.
I know an unidentified race of intelligent life is not going to rise out of the Seas and challenge our dominance of Earth. I like the idea of stories that prick our arrogance and offer a reminder of our vulnerabilities. Apocalyptic visions abound but not all touches on our contemporary industrial recklessness and potential political idiocy.
Today, the oceans are riddled with hydrophones listening for underwater activity. Yet no one has picked-up and decoded a group of fleeing dolphins saying – so long, and thanks for all the fish. Maybe tomorrow. Who needs to Dr?
Although there’s a growing intolerance in the UK. That can be seen in the opinion poll ratings for the Reform Party. Voicing opinions that are likely to arouse conflict, and division has become a calling card. Done on a regular basis the media can’t resist covering every foghorn moment. This offers them a disproportionate coverage, as if the sky is falling every day.
Kinda funny that a European folk tale, with a moral twist, is the basis of a political strategy in 2025. “Chicken Licken” got hit on the head by an acorn and deduced that the world was about to end so he’d better tell everyone right away.
I started, although there’s a growing intolerance in the UK, and meant to lead on to deducing that I’d say that people in the UK are more tolerant than those in the US. Now, this isn’t the case. For from it, tolerance is being stretched to the limits in the US.
For all the bad Press the current UK Prime Minister (PM) gets, his language has been coherent, deliberate, and understandable. That is like most of his predecessors, except the one who was in office only as long as a lettuce remained fresh, namely perhaps Liz Truss. Starmer is a lawyer after all. Not a great orator. Certainly not a comedian.
If Labour’s leader Starmer stood on a public platform and exclaimed “nobody understands magnets” I’m sure he wouldn’t last longer in post than Liz Truss did. See how intolerant people are in the UK.
Humanity understands magnetism. That’s down to a couple of heroes on mine. Michael Faraday[1] and James Clerk Maxwell. By applying experimentation and mathematics they both mapped out how electromagnetism works. Much of the modern world depends on their discoveries. Electrical power is at the core of technical society.
If the PM were to redefine his government’s environmental policies and take against wind energy, I doubt that he’d say, “The windmills are driving the whales crazy, obviously.” It’s true that the UK has a lot of wind turbines in the North Sea and that there are whales who pass that way[2]. That sentence alone would have the members of the House of Commons rolling in the aisles. It would be difficult for supporters and opponents alike to remain calm in such a situation.
On both sides of the Atlantic there’s so much debate and discussion about artificial intelligence that it’s impossible to get away from it. Yes, there must be a few ostriches, with their heads in the sand, who when asked wouldn’t know of the existence of AI. Can’t be many though.
So far, the PM hasn’t resorted to saying “Around the globe everyone is talking about artificial intelligence. I find that too artificial, I can’t stand it. I don’t even like the name.” Naturally, I stand to be corrected because there may come a time at Prime Minister’s Question Time that the subject of dropping the word “artificial” comes up. It’s hasn’t yet. If this subject became part of the ding done exchange at the dispatch box in parliament there is one thing for sure. Everyone would know that it would be time for a new PM.
Will Starmer survive 2026. My prediction is that he will survive in post but that will not stop arguments about his future. Overall, here my conclusion is that people in the US are far more tolerant than those in the UK.
[1] https://www.mritannica.com/biography/Michael-Faraday
[2] https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/wildlife-explorer/marine/marine-mammals-and-sea-turtles/minke-whale
John Vincent 