Wednesday, 30 November 2011
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Harsh title for a blog post ............... I accept that.
But every now and again something comes along that makes my urine boil.
And its this man........... The Speaker of the House .......... John "Wanker" Bercow.
Oh and you can take your vibrator worshipping wife with you. Says alot about your prowess pal does it not.
Add the cost of this to his £144K spent on his wee flat in the Commons ..... odious turd of a man.
The people of Buckingham are an absolute disgrace to the rest of the country .......... hang your heads in shame for voting him in !
The Speaker of the House of Commons also revealed his new official portrait by British artist Brendan Kelly, depicting him rising from his Speaker's chair and motioning towards the Government benches.
The total bill to the taxpayer is £37,000, prompting criticism from value for money campaigners, who said it was “very excessive at a time of public sector austerity” and only aimed at “boosting John Bercow’s ego”.
Mr Bercow’s official coat of arms sits in the frame of his portrait. It is dominated by a ladder, four roundels and two curved ‘seax’ knives.
The ladder represents Mr Bercow’s ascent from humble beginnings, as the son of a taxi driver in north London. He went to a comprehensive, before entering Parliament as MP for Buckingham and becoming Speaker in 2009.
The roundels mark Mr Bercow’s fondness for tennis – he is a qualified lawn tennis coach – and also represent his role as ex officio chairman of the Boundaries Commission of England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland.
The seax knives, which were traditionally worn by Saxon warriers over 1,000 years ago, represent Mr Bercow’s attachment to Essex.
He went to university in the county, graduating in 1985 with a first class degree in Government.
The rainbow colours and pink triangles mark Mr Bercow's championing of the rights of lesbian, gay, bisexual or trans-sexual people. They sit between his motto: “All Are Equal”.
The red and blue colours, as well as the gold colour of the roundels, represent the three main parties in the House of Commons.
The coat of arms sits in the frame of the Speaker’s official portrait, which features him rising from the Speaker’s chair in the House of Commons.
In the portrait he is making a hushing motion to the Government benches in the Commons,while holding a Commons order paper, and wearing his gown, rather than the traditional Speaker’s robes and tights.
Last night his office said that the painting cost £22,000, along with another £15,000 for the frame and coat of arms “to keep the style of previous portraits”.
The portrait will hang alongside other recent Speaker portraits including those of Baroness Boothroyd and Lord Martin of Springburn in his apartment.
Mr Kelly said he had wanted “to capture the day to day reality of a Speaker mid-action at work in the Chamber”.
However the TaxPayers’ Alliance, which highlights waste in pubic spending, criticised the cost of the painting and coat of arms.
Mathew Sinclair, the alliance’s director, said: “It’s very excessive at this time of public sector austerity for the Speaker to spend tens of thousands of pounds on a vanity portrait of himself.
“Following the MPs’ expenses scandal, Parliament should be cutting costs, not throwing taxpayers’ money away boosting John Bercow’s ego.
“Michael Martin was thrown from the job for wasting taxpayers’ money, so the current Speaker should be much more careful with how he spends our hard earned cash.”
A spokesman for the Speaker said: "The artist's fee is agreed through careful negotiation, balancing the prices artists can command for their work against strict value for money considerations.
"The portrait and the coat of arms form part of the Parliamentary Art Collection. This is a national collection which illustrates the history of Parliament and British politics over the century. The portrait remains the property of Parliament."
Friday, 11 November 2011
A poem for "The Fallen" Verse 4 is the now famous one, but the whole poem posted on this day of days.
For The Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
And for my Grandfather
Col W.G. Fielding M.C.
A proud Army Commando, Royal Irish Fusillier,and holder of th Military Cross for bravery
"Love you and miss you"
Her hair was up in a pony tail,
Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
Today was Daddy's Day at school,
And she couldn't wait to go.
But her mommy tried to tell her,
That she probably should stay home.
Why the kids might not understand,
If she went to school alone..
But she was not afraid;
She knew just what to say.
What to tell her classmates
Of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried,
For her to face this day alone.
And that was why once again,
She tried to keep her daughter home.
But the little girl went to school
Eager to tell them all.
About a dad she never sees
A dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back,
For everyone to meet.
Children squirming impatiently,
Anxious in their seats
One by one the teacher called
A student from the class.
To introduce their daddy,
As seconds slowly passed.
At last the teacher called her name,
Every child turned to stare.
Each of them was searching,
A man who wasn't there.
'Where's her daddy at?'
She heard a boy call out.
'She probably doesn't have one,'
Another student dared to shout.
And from somewhere near the back,
She heard a daddy say,
'Looks like another deadbeat dad,
Too busy to waste his day.'
The words did not offend her,
As she smiled up at her Mom.
And looked back at her teacher,
Who told her to go on.
And with hands behind her back,
Slowly she began to speak.
And out from the mouth of a child,
Came words incredibly unique.
'My Daddy couldn't be here,
Because he lives so far away.
But I know he wishes he could be,
Since this is such a special day.
And though you cannot meet him,
I wanted you to know.
All about my daddy,
And how much he loves me so.
He loved to tell me stories
He taught me to ride my bike.
He surprised me with pink roses,
And taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes,
And ice cream in a cone.
And though you cannot see him.
I'm not standing here alone.
'Cause my daddy's al ways with me,
Even though we are apart
I know because he told me,
He'll forever be in my heart'
With that, her little hand reached up,
And lay across her chest.
Feeling her own heartbeat,
Beneath her favorite dress.
And from somewhere here in the crowd of dads,
Her mother stood in tears.
Proudly watching her daughter,
Who was wise beyond her years.
For she stood up for the love
Of a man not in her life.
Doing what was best for her,
Doing what was right.
And when she dropped her hand back down,
Staring straight into the crowd.
She finished with a voice so soft,
But its message clear and loud.
'I love my daddy very much,
he's my shining star.
And if he could, he'd be here,
But heaven's just too far.
You see he is a British soldier
And died just this past year
When a roadside bomb hit his convoy
And taught Britians to fear.
But sometimes when I close my eyes,
it's like he never went away.'
And then she closed her eyes,
And saw him there that day.
And to her mothers amazement,
She witnessed with surprise.
A room full of daddies and children,
All starting to close their eyes.
Who knows what they saw before them,
Who knows what they felt inside.
Perhaps for merely a second,
They saw him at her side.
'I know you're with me Daddy,'
To the silence she called out.
And what happened next made believers,
Of those once filled with doubt.
Not one in that room could explain it,
For each of their eyes had been closed.
But there on the desk beside her,
Was a fragrant long-stemmed rose
For those people today and everyday .......... I tip my hat !