Time To Take Stock...

-

 


You've got to ask yourself the question: "For the vast majority of the population of this archipelago - i.e. normal, struggling folk, does this government serve any real function whatsoever?" - and the uncomfortable answer is: "No, none...". They don't seem to know, want or care that a significant majority of their electorate are staring hardship, if not abject penury, straight down both barrels. Predictions that a six-percent base rate could be the new norm for some considerable time; an overheated housing market, and banks continuing to take the piss with savers' interest rates, all conspire to hit the very kind of demographic that the Thatcher government targetted with right-to-buy, cheap share offers on previously publicly-owned utilities, &etc., hard in the pocket. The Tories serve none but the rich, never have done: and the aspiring middle and working-class voters that have somehow managed to keep them in power for so long, are now starting to feel the pinch. Let's hope their Tory votes disappear as rapidly as the contents of their bank accounts at the next General Election.

The NHS is seventy-five years old today, but its continued survival as the main plank of a civilized society is in severe doubt, due to the machinations of successive Tory governments in flogging off more and more of its core functions to private companies, and increasingly cutting back on funding for the bits that they know full well they can't sell. If they are allowed to continue as they are for very much longer, it will be too late to rescue it from oblivion; the point of no return is not that far away. The first baby born under the itself newborn NHS, Aneira "Nye" Thomas; was interviewed by the press to mark the anniversary: not only did she fear for the NHS' future, she said that there was no access to any NHS dentist where she lives, near Swansea. She was named after the founding light of the NHS, Aneurin Bevan. She was the first of generations to be born and nurtured under the care of the NHS: who will be the last?

I should mention that the other main plank of our erstwhile civilized society was also bought into being by a Welshman: David Lloyd George. He had many, many faults, not least of which being a corrupt bugger; but for that one achievement alone - the welfare state - we should all be grateful. Hwyl fawr...


Comments

  1. Anonymous6 July 2023 at 10:43

    I find my "nose out of joint" Kel. Because she may have been the first to be born under the NHS but that obviates the crucial pregnancy! My mother and I were one of the first pregnancies to be looked after by this great institution, oh and a successful birth! A BTW: in the same NHS hospital where the first Covid death was registered:((
    We are ALL imperfect and to deny that is to deny our very humanity DLG & every politician/person should be remebered for the things that they DID; Thatcher as the kiddies milk steeler! We now know how important nutrition IS and this one cheap and simple act was a central plank in the Welfare State. Plus it HAD to be locally sourced cos we didn't have our current bollocks distribution/production "system" supported by road transport that adds SO much to pollution in many forms! There's more on the A55 "Road to Opprtunity" sh1te.
    ATB
    Joe

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Of Feedback & Wobbles

-
Image
Many years ago I came up with an analogy for poorly damped feedback loops. The feedback loop that prompted this frankly tart analogy was indeed a horror. Anyone who remembers shame-faced their first attempts at clutch control resulting in the good old kangaroo launch across the lights only to stall in the middle of the crossroads will have some idea of the kind of data transfer lag involved in said system. The analogy I made was that of a large blancmange. Untouched, a model of stasis and eminently stable and predictable; but prod the bugger and the resultant chaotic behaviour needs a very complex physical model and some very decent computing horsepower to predict its outputs, if at all. The system in question was a large and complex audio-visual display at what eventually became 'The Electric Mountain' in Llanberis. We were ultimately contracted to maintain the thing having been witness to and peripherally involved in its installation. Certainly not involved in its des...
Read more

A Time of Connection

-
Image
I was just reflecting on the vacuum of continuity that's left behind when someone dies: that sudden sense of disjoint, of fracture, in one's personal history that takes one completely by surprise at the oddest moments. These pinch-points in memory can often yield some surprising revelations of fact about periods in one's past. One such occurred to me tonight, tending my rather lazy meal of pizza in its journey from shrink-wrap to mouth via the oven. Al's recent demise still catches me out from time to time: the space he left bounded by forty plus years of friendship. But the thing that struck me tonight was just how much change was happening on a personal and social level in the very early years of our acquaintance. Between moving here from Birmingham in September 1980 and our buying our first proper house eighteen months later, all manner of things occurred that would chart the course of our lives to the present day. At around the time of our meeting Alan & Irene [...
Read more

Sister Ray

-
Image
Ray Keats - aka Ann Key - local artist & family friend, died this morning. She'd been ill for some years, but never let it get in the way of her work or of tending to the massive network of friends, colleagues and fans she had accumulated over the decades. Her house on the High Street of Rachub, just below where we live - a former cockle factory(!) - bought many years ago when she and her late husband Ronald moved here from Manchester to set up home in Yr Achub, is currently still home to her paintings and drawings, and the front window displays her work, including the last drawing she made in hospital, just days before she died. Her good friend Colin has been a diamond in her latter years, looking out for her and just being there when she needed him. She will be much missed by this tiny community of ageing bohemians up here in the hills, but suffice it to say, George, her cat, will be well looked after now she's gone.
Read more