tartan bunker

I ’phoned my local bank in south London and a very nice lady in India answered, telling me she’d fax my details to the branch and get them to call me. I then found the bank manager’s direct phone line, called him, made an appointment and saw him within the hour. Two days later, he rang me, puzzled, wanting to know who I was. I reminded him. Ah, he said, thing is, I’ve just received a fax telling me to contact this number, but no name, no reference. . . ’ This chap is a professional, he’s not responsible for this nonsense but . . . In future, I won’t be using Barclays.

Also, alack and alas, I had cause to ring Thames Water. Two phones ringing, on and off over two days. Gave up, and sent an email. Got a call two days later. ‘Hello,’ said a heavily-accented voice where wordsranintooneanother. ‘ThisisTim’swater.’ 

Do the lunatic accountants who must have thought this’d be cost effective ever have cause to contact their call centres abroad? Have they given thought or care ever to the cost to the customer and society at large through the waste of time and money spent in contact with such centres?

I’ll return anon to the problems at home with those who take calls and go out of their way not to help you. And then before signing off, ask if there’s anything else they can help you with.

Soon, I’ll have to contact BT. Most of us know what that means. I give up. Bring back pigeons.

British jobs for British workers – aye! To describe this rallying cry as xenophobia is to misunderstand, intentionally or otherwise, the meaning of the word defined as ‘an intense fear or dislike of foreigners.’ What’s wrong with British jobs for British workers? It’s not meant as blanket coverage, but blanket support. At the very least, it keeps Brits out of their own dole queue. At the least, it’s a common courtesy to employ your own, who’ve been born and/or brought up here, and been schooled (hopefully) in the language and ways of the country. (That’s how Italy operates I understand from a highly-qualified English acquaintance who failed to get a job there).

Those against the idea claim foreign workers are better than Brits. I find this insulting, given the people I work with, but it were the case, then someone in charge of the red tape should be out there ensuring that our lot is up to scratch, and if there are doubts, ensuring the training system is way above scratch. I’ve been in the dole queue: it was unpleasant, humiliating, and the system supposedly helping you back into work was useless if not corrupted. I hope things have changed but . . .

When my friend, Graham Greene’s grandson, visited these shores from Switzerland he was appalled, scorning the many foreigners, with uneasy English, who attempted to show him round many of our national treasures. It just wouldn’t be allowed to happen in Switzerland, he said.

There’s more on a lighter, and darker, note in Green Fire, the second in the Chronicles of Dekaydence, due out in summer, 2009. Visit: www.dekaydence.com

As Number 10 and Number 11 appear to encourage others to declare them saviours of the world’s current financial mess (yes, that same mess they got us into, having been in power, obviously blindfolded, for the past decade), I feel it’s important to make it absolutely clear that I, MacCavity, played no part in creating the world in six days. 

If necessary, MacMog will testify to this.

PS If you enjoy adventures of mayhem and madness be aware that Green Fire is published later this year by Garret Books.  

Oh, and a goode new year to you all, wi’ plenty of good health and happiness.

This week a young talented man I know lost his job and was almost in tears and an elderly lady who’s worked hard all her life, who feels the cold, has said she’ll not be using the electric fire because of the cost. It’s happening nation and worldwide, and will get worse. Stand up those responsible (if they’re not too full of free champagne, air miles, and bullshit): politicians and financiers*). Are they crying, fretting about how to pay a bill or feed a hungry mouth. Are they freezing to death?

 Why aren’t these people on trial? For years they’ve known full well what was going on with our economies (and if they didn’t, let’s remind ourselves, and them, that ignorance is no defence in the eyes of UK law). Shouldn’t they be forced to return money they’ve ‘taken’ from us? And while Mr Brown and The UnDarling of Neverneverland borrow huge sums of money, on whose broken backs does this burden of debt rest?

 If you or I go a tad over the speed limit or are a few minutes overdue paying a tax bill, we’re fined or imprisoned. But it appears when you reach a level of power and/or influence, you’re given a ‘getaway wi’ it’, a Santa, clause. And what about some of these culprits taking responsibility for those who’ll lose their life because of what’s happened? Am I barkin’ mad to think that their actions amount to manslaughter?  

 Come the revolution. Or Dekaydence . . . See Black Light and in 2009, Green Fire. 

* I exclude the good ’uns who do exist but appear far too few in number.

Took some wee ones to the pantomime (Brian Blessed-cotton-socks in Peter Pan), and came up wi’ a new plan for democracy. (Oh, yes I did!).  Get those politicians to stand on a stage and tell us what they want to do. The populous then shout back: “Oh yes, get on wi’ it!” or “Oh no, you don’t, you mad, bad etc…!” (Excluding our own hero MPs, why do I expect this to be the popular vote?).

Post panto, I’ve also refined ma’ long-held idea for an independent auditor to assess weekly/monthly/annually/hourly (take your pick) the performance of each MP. I reckon poor results get “The crocodile’s behind you!” which means they’re taken immediately to the Tower. Oh, and there’s no tea or pension for them. 

I do hear Dekaydence has its own plans for MPs. Much tougher and greener than mine. See Green Fire out in 2009.

MacMog and I settle down to watch Sam Peckinpah’s Ride the High Country (1962), a western with Joel McCrea and Randolph Scott as ageing cowboys in a changing western world. I am not enthusiastic. And then I get it: a simple story with high character definition, great editing/filming . . . in fact, a feast of a movie in many ways. Listening to the keen, knowledgeable chaps on the dvd enabled me to enter many other levels of understanding this film. 

Hopefully, one day, someone will do the same with the films of Dekaydence; not only book one, Black Light, but also book two, Green Fire, due out spring/summer 2009.

Suddenly, we’re awash with ‘experts’ pronouncing when we’ll be through the recession and giving us solutions so it’ll never happen again. Apart from the fact that these wiseries come from some of the very people who got us into this mess, I wonder, where were these ‘experts’ before the lights went out? I’d have appreciated their input then but not now. Seemingly, the only people who knew what was what were Vince Cable, my mathematical friend John, and ma young friend’s old mum who’s been Cassandra-ing for years that over-borrowing and lending would lead us only down this almighty dreadful path.

Stick with Dekaydence. We do have solutions.   

Apologies for going awol. Been in an arm-wrestling contest with surgeon. Which I lost, and won, so to speak. Great surgeon. And a rematch follows. Had to wear great bright blue foam sling - the size of small goat, and still people determine to barge into you. I am not that small, or that short on mouth. Where have manners gone? Why do people feel it cool to be impolite?  

Oh well, bring on the music. Listen to a gent on the guitar. Francis Rossi (of Status Quo) on our website - www.dekaydence.com - singing our anthem! There’s some woman screaming. Take no notice. 

What was God’s plan? And how many bureaucrats got involved to put it into operation? I look at nature and see blood as well as beauty, and the dreadful struggle animals have in today’s world. It’s why, despite MacMog’s annoyance, I feed the foxes; we’ve taken their land and they’ve become paupers and beggars. Ma cousin lives in the north where the nouveau crass have shot most everything of fur and feather, leaving a surfeit of new pheasants and 4×4s. Nouveau crass want ma cousin to cut back her hedges which are harbouring some wildlife. She told them where to go. AttaGirl! 

Librarians! Especially Youth Librarians! I just love ’em. You might not be aware of the great hands-on work the YLs do with Young People (if you’re not, visit http://www.thebookseller.com/blogs/67011-page.html#Comment). 

I’ve had a wee glimpse into what they do. And I’m thinking of inviting the nation’s Youth Librarians to form a Battalion within the Corps of Tartan Guards at Dekaydence.