18 days ago
It was only a couple of weeks ago when the hapless Tory MP William Wragg was exposed for exposing himself on Grindr and then being blackmailed that I made reference to Uncle Chris, the late Christopher Booker HERE. The image from Private Eye of the Court of SuperMac dressed as if for the fall of Rome, which hangs in the downstairs loo at The Old Rectory, is again in my mind. It is as if Tory MP’s get an automatic account with the gay dating app Grindr when they are elected. Again, another Private Eye joke springs to mind.
620 days ago
One of three brothers who all became vicars ( until one was defrocked and sent to prison) , Douglas Winnifrith was my great great uncle and in this podcast I bring you his account – written up in a 1915 book – of Christmas Day 1914 on the Western Front.
906 days ago
I am berated by mask jihadists here in my home village of Holt for my refusal to wear a face nappy. My national leader here in Wales, a deranged chap of low intellect called Mr Mark Drakeford, tells us we have to wear one everywhere, even in a open air school playground when we pick up our kids. Yet if you ask them for data to back their views all they can say is “most doctors say“or “the experts say”. They cannot cite one single study to back up their extreme claims. My GP will not treat give me a flu jab unless I mask up, but nobody at the Village Surgeries Group, over the border among the English infidels, can offer me one shred of evidence as to why a twice jabbed chap who also has antibodies from surviving covid is more likely to transmit the disease to other twice jabbed folks if not wearing a mask. There are no facts to justify this fascist diktat. Well chaps you want some facts?
1187 days ago
Yesterday I revealed how joining the ever longer list of things that became racist in 2021 was celebrating the life and mourning the passing of Tom Moore. Who said so? A Church of England Vicar.
1286 days ago
I have been sent a stern email by the Vicar in Shipston about tomorrow’s funeral for my father. She knows my views and position but reminds me that the Church is only following the law in requiring us all to muzzle up and not sing. Naturally I have replied but the attachment below, the Church’s guidance on Covid prevention, strikes me as a monstrous deception which, in time, it will be forced to recognise and will come to regret.
1292 days ago
If you have actually looked at scientific studies, at facts, at hard data, you will by now be convinced that wearing masks will not stop you either catching or spreading Coronavirus. But folks find all sorts of reasons for not actually studying the data as I discovered when discussing my father’s funeral with the vicar and a sister. I am still unspeakably angry with Boris Johnson and Matt Hancock for the way we must tell people they cannot be with his family next week. But it seems the vicar and at least one sister goes along with the GroupThink. Among their arguments for not only wearing a muzzle themselves but also for being cross with we refuseniks were:
2504 days ago
Was he by any chance a relation? Did I have a photo of him? The truth is that I did not have a scoobie but I knew a man who did. I called my father.
2599 days ago
Dad and I got back from the hospital and were sitting down to lunch. water for me, wine for him. After a morning with a range of Shipmans he deserved it. Who should bound in but the vicar from our old village of Byfield. I told him that I had recently written an article about wringing his neck HERE. He then gushed out a stream of left wing views on Trump, Brexit and other matters that were so barking mad that even my Guardian reading father was a bit taken aback. A bitter attack on Uncle Chris Booker was the final straw. No wonder the CofE is going to the dogs. On the podcast that followed I cover Orogen (ORE) where we are in and backing Adam Reynolds again, Nyota (NYO), Audioboom (BOOM), Andalas Energy (ADL) and Advanced Oncotherapy (AVO).
2646 days ago
Above the main field at Butterwell Farm in Byfield was a smaller field. On one side was a continuation of the dry stone wall that separated our land from that of Mr Peter Thompson, on the other the extensive gardens that my mother worked to create. At the bottom ,separating this land from the main field, was a giant old barn which contained a wooden three-seater lavatory seat among other gems. At the top there was another barn which in turn formed one half of one side of the yard behind our house. We we worked hard to turn the barn into a fox proof hen-house. and then started to build up a flock of chickens with the odd bantam picked up along the way, for fun.
