27 December 2010
26 December 2010
A father imparts the secret of men's desires to his daughter
From The Julia Davis "Little Cracker", one of a series of wry and vaguely christmas themed shoirts shown last week on Sky One
25 December 2010
24 December 2010
Merry Christmas Mr Videla Ho Ho Ho!
The Telegraph reports that Argentine dictator Jorge Videla, has been sentenced to life imprisonment.
Videla, 85, ruled Argentina from 1976 to 1981 and was the architect of the "dirty war" during which around 30,000 people were murdered. However, he was convicted for the murder of 31 prisoners who were pulled from civilian jail cells and "shot while trying to escape" in the period after his regime toppled president Isabel Peron.
"Videla ... is a manifestation of state terrorism," judge Maria Elba Martinez said as she handed down the sentence in the central Argentine city of Cordoba.
The former dictator remained unrepentant, telling the court the day before his sentencing that Argentine society had demanded the crackdown to prevent a Marxist revolution and claiming that the country was now run by "terrorists".
Videla also defiantly told the court that he was a political prisoner and denied human rights violations despite saying he accepted "full responsibility" for his actions as his subordinates were only following orders.
He was ordered to be detained for the rest of his life in a federal jail under civilian rather than military rules, denying him any special privileges.
Videla was previously tried and sentenced to life in prison in 1985 but was pardoned five years later by the then-president, Carlos Menem. Three years ago a court ruled that the pardon was unconstitutional, paving the way for the latest trial.
It is a shame that Videla isn’t repentant. That would have made his incarceration all the more miserable. However, that he has been sent to prison is will just have to be good enough..
Perhaps his cell should be decorated with a life size photograph of Dgmar Hagelin (above), the 18 year old Swedish girl who was murdered in the ESMA torture camp.
One thing that irritates me is that while fellow leftists screamed blue murder (quite rightly) about the scumbag Pinochet, there was hardly been a peep about the murderous regime in Argentina.
Oh well. I look forward to reading his obituary in at least 15 years time
A christmas McGonagall
THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL
by William McGonagall
It was biting cold, and the falling snow,
Which filled a poor little match girl's heart with woe,
Who was bareheaded and barefooted, as she went along the street,
Crying, "Who'll buy my matches? for I want pennies to buy some meat!"
When she left home she had slippers on;
But, alas! poor child, now they were gone.
For she lost both of them while hurrying across the street,
Out of the way of two carriages which were near by her feet.
So the little girl went on, while the snow fell thick and fast;
And the child's heart felt cold and downcast,
For nobody had bought any matchea that day,
Which filled her little mind with grief and dismay.
Alas! she was hungry and shivering with cold;
So in a corner between two houses she made bold
To take shelter from the violent storm.
Poor little waif! wishing to herself she'd never been born.
And she grew colder and colder, and feared to go home
For fear of her father beating her; and she felt woe-begone
Because she could carry home no pennies to buy bread,
And to go home without pennies she was in dread.
The large flakes of snow covered her ringlets of fair hair;
While the passers-by for her had no care,
As they hurried along to their homes at a quick pace,
While the cold wind blew in the match girl's face.
As night wore on her hands were numb with cold,
And no longer her strength could her uphold,
When an idea into her little head came:
She'd strike a match and warm her hands at the flame.
And she lighted the match, and it burned brightly,
And it helped to fill her heart with glee;
And she thought she was sitting at a stove very grand;
But, alas! she was found dead, with a match in her hand!
Her body was found half-covered with snow,
And as the people gazed thereon their hearts were full of woe;
And many present let fall a burning tear
Because she was found dead on the last night of the year,
In that mighty city of London, wherein is plenty of gold -
But, alas! their charity towards street waifs is rather cold.
But I hope the match girl's in Heaven, beside her Saviour dear,
A bright reward for all the hardships she suffered here.
Don;t forget McGonagall Online
by William McGonagall
It was biting cold, and the falling snow,
Which filled a poor little match girl's heart with woe,
Who was bareheaded and barefooted, as she went along the street,
Crying, "Who'll buy my matches? for I want pennies to buy some meat!"
When she left home she had slippers on;
But, alas! poor child, now they were gone.
For she lost both of them while hurrying across the street,
Out of the way of two carriages which were near by her feet.
So the little girl went on, while the snow fell thick and fast;
And the child's heart felt cold and downcast,
For nobody had bought any matchea that day,
Which filled her little mind with grief and dismay.
Alas! she was hungry and shivering with cold;
So in a corner between two houses she made bold
To take shelter from the violent storm.
Poor little waif! wishing to herself she'd never been born.
And she grew colder and colder, and feared to go home
For fear of her father beating her; and she felt woe-begone
Because she could carry home no pennies to buy bread,
And to go home without pennies she was in dread.
The large flakes of snow covered her ringlets of fair hair;
While the passers-by for her had no care,
As they hurried along to their homes at a quick pace,
While the cold wind blew in the match girl's face.
As night wore on her hands were numb with cold,
And no longer her strength could her uphold,
When an idea into her little head came:
She'd strike a match and warm her hands at the flame.
And she lighted the match, and it burned brightly,
And it helped to fill her heart with glee;
And she thought she was sitting at a stove very grand;
But, alas! she was found dead, with a match in her hand!
Her body was found half-covered with snow,
And as the people gazed thereon their hearts were full of woe;
And many present let fall a burning tear
Because she was found dead on the last night of the year,
In that mighty city of London, wherein is plenty of gold -
But, alas! their charity towards street waifs is rather cold.
But I hope the match girl's in Heaven, beside her Saviour dear,
A bright reward for all the hardships she suffered here.
Don;t forget McGonagall Online
23 December 2010
Christmas Truce 1916
"Here we are again as the song says. I had quite a good Xmas considering I was in the front line. Xmas eve was pretty stiff, sentry-go up to the hips in mud of course. … We had a truce on Xmas Day and our German friends were quite friendly. They came over to see us and we traded bully beef for cigars. Xmas was ‘tray bon’ which means very good."These words were written by Canadian soldier Ronald Mackinnon (above) in a letter to his sister. But this was not written during the famed Christmas truce but in 1916
According to research by Dr Thomas Weber, of the University of Aberdeen, cease-fires continued to take place in 1915 and 1916. But because of military action (artillery, machine gun, and sniper fire) the truces were on a rather smaller scale and and more localised than the events of 1914.
"…soldiers never tried to stop fraternising with their opponents during Christmas. After the battle and after the adrenaline had gone, remorse tended to set in and there are many incidents recorded where soldiers tried to help injured soldiers from the other side.” Dr Weber said
Private Mackinnon was killed during the battle of Vimy Ridge in April 1917.
A Christmassy Simulacrum
It would appear that Rudolf exists if only in the Hippocampal region of the brainClaudia Racca, of the Institute of Neuroscience at Newcastle University said: ''Biology can throw up things like this, but it was a nice surprise to find this image. We were looking at a section of the tissue and noticed this strange but familiar shape. We then took an overexposed picture of it and the red blob for the nose and the white antlers showed up even better.
22 December 2010
Chavez fetes Lukashenko win
Lukashenko to be the Lucky Pierre in this threesome?Following his unsurprising landslide victory in last week’s elections in Belarus (the only strange thing being that he did not claim that 2,377.48% of the electorate had cast votes in his favour) , it did not take long for one of the truest friends of freedom (ha!) to send his heartiest and most hyperbole-filed congratulations
Hugo Chavez, made this statement in the wake of Stalin’s, sorry Lukashenko’s victory: “It was an extraordinary day for democracy, which resulted in the re-election of the great European leader. Lukashenko knows how to lead the glorious motherland to independence, putting the sacred interests of his people ahead of the narrow- minded intentions of the world powers.”
By contrast Ahmadinejad was rather muted saying, if Press TV is to be believed (a big if) that the recent presidential election in Belarus was another "golden page in the honorable history" of the Belarusian people.
What can I say but repeat my assertion that Chavez is an utter wanker. I suppose I could rant on about the man but I just cant be bothered…
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