"If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude better than the animating contest of freedom, go home from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or your arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains set lightly upon you, and may posterity forget that you were our countrymen."

Saturday, 16 February 2013


Since we all now know what's happening I think I'll just confine myself to posting snippets of good music and poetry; after all, there's only so much political detestation one girl can take.

The following image may not contribute much to political debate in our country but, for me, it says it all:

I've used it before and no doubt I'll use it again because I think it's the ultimate expression of where we're going.

On the bright side, I could be down in Torquay as early as April; the tenants will be leaving at the end of this month and, with one more (final, I hope) blood test in the middle of this month, I'll be off. Seagulls, beaches, palm trees, the smell of sun-soaked seaweed and a 'new' life beckon.

That isn't to say I'll forget our corrupted politics: as a Wise Man almost said to a questioning traveller: 'If you found the last set of politicians corrupt you will surely find the ones in the next village also'.

Blogging will continue to be light and, more than ever, you may have to get used to reading between the lines of music and poetry:  I haven't thought to spell it out before but 'Your baby,' in this instance, is your sovereignty.


  1. Oh you will, will you?............

    1. Apparently so! After all that's happened I'll believe it when I'm down there.


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