Monthly Archives: July 2020
The Antiques Roadshow being forbidden to film normally because of the lockdown madness, the BEEB showed one of last year’s editions on Sunday, filmed at an historic Scottish Castle.
I finally got round to reading Scientocracy, (eds. Patrick J. Michaels and Terence Kealey). It’s only nine months old and already outdated by COVID-19 – or rather, thoroughly vindicated by the rapid descent into censorship of all but official government policy on what “the science” says, despite the clear and demonstrable failure of the predictive models most governments are still following.
In the current civil unrest, which has been blamed on an “institutional white racism” that led to a slavery which somehow persists nearly two centuries after its abolition, a number of people from Thomas Sowell to Baroness Caroline Cox have drawn attention both to a more complete history of slavery, and to the widespread existence of black slavery in Africa today.
As the largest recession in British history begins to bite, the government has decided to spend a good chunk of its debt on campaigns (and more “draconian” legislation curtailing freedom of advertising, etc) on fighting obesity. The justification? That it has emerged that obese patients are perhaps twice as likely to die from Coronavirus infection as others.
Currently, two days before the wearing of face masks becomes compulsory in shops, the UK tally of COVID-19 deaths has dropped to only 65 daily. Where I live, in England’s west country, there have been no deaths at all for over a fortnight. Absolutely the right time to curtail liberty, then.
One of my major concerns at the moment is the almost total blindness of those in British churches to the insidious infiltration of Neo-marxist “Social Justice” theory into society, and by extension into the churches themselves, which are fast becoming its most useful idiots and, too often, true believers.
I suppose industrial estates are similar across the civilised world, though I’ve never spent enough time in them to know for sure. Take a large field, give it a grid of roads and and a bunch of featureless low-rise buildings, and let them out to the busy folks keeping the world running.
My son-in-law has just started hosting a podcast, doing long-form interviews of interesting people in his local area to encourage a community identity. Good stuff.
An elderly celebrity, I forget who, used to say that he read the Obituary page of the Times in bed each morning, and if he wasn’t in it, he got up. Obituaries in this new intersectional normal of ours have become obsolete, because the woke want to erase the memory of the dead as soon as iconoclastically possible, apart from their newly-minted biographies of Mary Anning as a lesbian, or Mary Seacole as a nursing pioneer. Oh yes, and Frederick Douglass as a white supremacist.
Together with the current campaign to direct of our entire moral attention on an ill-defined thing called “racism” (worth critiquing in a post of its own), that programme also calls on us to repudiate the evils of another thing called “imperialism” (or “colonialism”) as one of the worst tributaries of that racist stream.