In the papers they are talking about the Great Train Robber, Ronnie Biggs, and his son's disbelief about Ronnie being denied parole. He has apparently had 3 strokes, 2 heart attacks and skin cancer. Poor old man...but is he?
This poor old man is a thief, an incompetent thief admittedly and, he is also at least party to the vicious assault on Jack Mills (the train driver).
Mills was struck on the head with an iron bar and never recovered completely from the blow to the head, suffering severe headaches for the rest of his life. He was unable to work again.
Biggs was arrested and imprisoned but escaped from Wandsworth Prison. He fled to Australia with his wife and children, then to Brazil where he had a son. He made a record with the Sex Pistols, wrote a biography, got kidnapped, had a public party in Brazil for his 70th birthday with other Great Train Robbers, lived the life of a celebrity in Brazil, then decided after over 30 years 'on the run' that he wanted to return to England and:
"My last wish is to walk into a Margate pub as an Englishman and buy a pint of bitter."(as told to The Sun)
You get parole for being repentant. It doesn't sound like he is... Nowhere in any quotes is there anything saying that he wishes that he hadn't done it. That he is sorry that Jack Mills was injured.
"I am an old man and often wonder if I truly deserve the extent of my punishment. I have accepted it and only want freedom to die with my family and not in jail." (Biggs's public appeal)
His son is complaining that this isn't justice. For whom? Certainly not for Jack Mills...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/norfolk/8131053.stm
Randomeanderings: Useful and useless things, random assorted ideas and general waffle
Randomeanderings: Useful and useless things, random assorted ideas and general waffle
- clinestar
- Part time poet, full time librarian, student of the delights of milk chocolate. Likes books, milk, paddling, poetry, scribbling, chocolate, notebooks, sea, piers. Not necessarily in that order. All work copyright cih.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
Friday, 12 June 2009
RSPCA
I have been watching a programme about the fantastic work done by the RSPCA. Except that the work wasn't fantastic.
A woman rang the RSPCA because she had been left in charge of her son's brand new puppy. The puppy was sick and when the officer went to see it turned out that the puppy was far too young to be away from its mother. After a discussion in which the RSPCA woman tried to point out that the puppy would die without medical attention, she left, but was called back a bit later and took the pup to a vet. So far so understandable.
They looked for the puppy's mother and discovered the address of the seller's flat from the guy who had bought the puppy. The bitch and her puppies were in an otherwise abandoned flat with no furniture, on a council estate. They were thin and the mother was extremely protective. The RSPCA had to get the police to come and break into the flat which was in a disgusting state.
However - the dog and her puppies looked like pitbull type dogs. If this was proven that they were pitbulls then they would be illegal.
The tests were done.
They were pitbulls.
They were put down.
So they were rescued then killed.
What was the point? Surely there was another way? Couldn't they have found someone with a licence (I understand that some people have licences to own pitbull type dogs) to have the dogs?
It seems unnecessarily cruel to rescue these dogs who came to them with such hope and trust of being saved from a terrible fate (dog fights or being kept for breeding then just dumped) only to be killed by their rescuers.
The expression on the bitch's face as she decided to trust the RSPCA inspector who carried her pups out of the excrement filled flat, only to have them end her life like that for being the wrong type of dog. Its wrong.
I haven't been in favour of the RSPCA since they lied last summer - they said our dog was in a hot metal car when he was in a cool glass fibre motorcaravan, and that the temperature in the car was too high when they hadn't actually even taken it...
So what with the poor pitbull family and their lying about Chip last summer, I for one am not going to be supporting their charity shops or stalls, nor buying their Christmas cards. It isn't much of a protest, but it is a start.
A woman rang the RSPCA because she had been left in charge of her son's brand new puppy. The puppy was sick and when the officer went to see it turned out that the puppy was far too young to be away from its mother. After a discussion in which the RSPCA woman tried to point out that the puppy would die without medical attention, she left, but was called back a bit later and took the pup to a vet. So far so understandable.
They looked for the puppy's mother and discovered the address of the seller's flat from the guy who had bought the puppy. The bitch and her puppies were in an otherwise abandoned flat with no furniture, on a council estate. They were thin and the mother was extremely protective. The RSPCA had to get the police to come and break into the flat which was in a disgusting state.
However - the dog and her puppies looked like pitbull type dogs. If this was proven that they were pitbulls then they would be illegal.
The tests were done.
They were pitbulls.
They were put down.
So they were rescued then killed.
What was the point? Surely there was another way? Couldn't they have found someone with a licence (I understand that some people have licences to own pitbull type dogs) to have the dogs?
It seems unnecessarily cruel to rescue these dogs who came to them with such hope and trust of being saved from a terrible fate (dog fights or being kept for breeding then just dumped) only to be killed by their rescuers.
The expression on the bitch's face as she decided to trust the RSPCA inspector who carried her pups out of the excrement filled flat, only to have them end her life like that for being the wrong type of dog. Its wrong.
I haven't been in favour of the RSPCA since they lied last summer - they said our dog was in a hot metal car when he was in a cool glass fibre motorcaravan, and that the temperature in the car was too high when they hadn't actually even taken it...
So what with the poor pitbull family and their lying about Chip last summer, I for one am not going to be supporting their charity shops or stalls, nor buying their Christmas cards. It isn't much of a protest, but it is a start.
Friday, 17 April 2009
Fat fingers
Why do such large men have such tiny mobiles? On the train to and from work there are businessmen crammed in their business suits all with the smallest phones, their fat fingers trying to find the dinky little keys to text people or call someone. Maybe we need to have phones specifically designed for businessmen with podgy digit issues? Cut down on the accidental texts sent to the wife instead of the mistress? Now if only we could do something about predictive texting ar I understand it cam cd a problem sometimes...
Friday, 3 April 2009
Alas, poor blog...
Poor abandoned blog. Yes, yet again I left you when I got something better to do. Which makes me think - all these people constantly updating their lives on Twitter - how do they actually have time to live them? If I was forever letting people know what I was up to (more so than I do on Facebook where I can have the same status for weeks from sheer idleness) then I'd never actually have time to do anything. Are they missing the point, or am I? So this blog will be sporadic. If I've written something two days in a row, then brilliant. If there is nothing for a month - or a year - then don't panic. I might be busy with life. Or I might have forgotten my password...
Saturday, 31 May 2008
Four candles - 'andles for forks
Just wondering - it was my 33rd birthday the other day and four separate people gave me candles. Are candles the traditional gift for this age, like paper is the traditional present for your first wedding anniversary? (By the way the candles are all gorgeous - thank you very much!)
Monday, 5 May 2008
Not a fete worse than death
I've just been to Morden Hall Show, to experience the London version of a 'country show'. I had my doubts, probably because I've been to a lot of shows, but never one in London.
I was pleasantly surprised. It was a proper show, albeit smaller than a county show (which is probably a good thing as it means that you aren't forced to admire rows of shiny green tractors and combines). No horses, but pens with goats and sheep. Birds of various varieties, from turkeys to quail. In fact the sublime to the ridiculous - and both birds probably look better when cooked.
The craft tents were plentiful, even if rather overstocked with silver jewellery. The other year everyone was making cards. Looks like now silver jewellery is the new trend. There was a lot of food available - tho sadly overpriced - and I mean overpriced even by show standards, not by normal standards.
The weather was lovely too although I understand that is under the control of the fates, rather than fetes.
I was pleasantly surprised. It was a proper show, albeit smaller than a county show (which is probably a good thing as it means that you aren't forced to admire rows of shiny green tractors and combines). No horses, but pens with goats and sheep. Birds of various varieties, from turkeys to quail. In fact the sublime to the ridiculous - and both birds probably look better when cooked.
The craft tents were plentiful, even if rather overstocked with silver jewellery. The other year everyone was making cards. Looks like now silver jewellery is the new trend. There was a lot of food available - tho sadly overpriced - and I mean overpriced even by show standards, not by normal standards.
The weather was lovely too although I understand that is under the control of the fates, rather than fetes.
Tuesday, 29 April 2008
I twought I taw a puddy tat
Why is it that cats can not only tell if you dislike them, but can also sense if you are allergic to them? As a child I wasn't allergic to cats but now that I am, cats make a beeline (ok, make that a catnip line) for me. They will try to sit on my lap, rub against my legs, jump up on the furniture - all just so that they can be close to me. Is this pure sadism on their part? From the little I know about the way cats toy with their smaller victims, such as mice and birds, I suspect that they are merely viewing me as just another target. Albeit a larger one than usual.
The question is, how do they know that I am allergic to them? Is it some form of ESP? Is it the same way that dogs can tell when humans are going to have fits? In which case why do dogs use their powers for good and cats don't? Are cats simply untrainable?
The question is, how do they know that I am allergic to them? Is it some form of ESP? Is it the same way that dogs can tell when humans are going to have fits? In which case why do dogs use their powers for good and cats don't? Are cats simply untrainable?
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