Just Say Noam!

The Dunwich Dynamo is a 185 km cycle ride from London to a little Suffolk town called Dunwich. The original Dunwich is under the sea. The Suffolk coast is eroding at a phenomenal rate and as the coast crumbles away, occasionally villages go with it. Right, me at the start, thinking about the 120 miles of cycling ahead of me.

I wasn’t sure that I could do it, to be honest. Last time I cycled this sort of distance was in 1988. I was a student, living in Plumstead, quite young, and quite fit. On the other hand I had a shit bike, no water, I was wearing jeans, and not at all prepared for what turned out to be a ride from London, to Brighton, up the road to Beachy Head, then back to Seven Oaks. By Seven Oaks I couldn’t ride any more, and could barely walk. The next day I couldn’t walk, nor could I walk very well for about a week. The bike fared even less well. The next time I took it out the frame snapped. I moved out of Plumstead days later and left the dumped bike at the house we rented. me at the start, right.

This time I managed to finished it in about 12 hours - not bad considering I did no training at all for it. I probably tried to go a bit too fast early on - eager to get out of London and put as many miles behind me while I was still wide awake. S and K saw me off from London Fields. I was surprised how many cyclists were drinking beer just before setting off. I know that if I tried it – I doubt I’d be able to cycle far afterwards. My main battle, I knew, was to prevent dehydration, and prevent myself getting a crippling headache. The other battle was to be against chafing around the inner thigh area.

I set off at 8.40 and immediately lost my way. This was in Hackney. I wasn’t the only one. It turned out that we were supposed to cycle a little way up the wrong way on a one way road, and turn right into a church yard. Not what I expected. But the road out through East London, towards Epping, was pretty clear, and I had no further trouble – not till I got to Suffolk anyway.

The Essex section was interesting - hundreds of cyclists riding through the middle of the Essex Saturday night - dodgy clubs, bouncers, souped up motors - we attracted comments - one being the bloke who stuck his head out of his car window and shouted "WAAAANKERRRS!!". So many cyclists in one place must have made his head hurt.

I’d been told that the ride was “flat as a witches tits” to coin a phrase. This was from someone who enjoyed cycling up mountains as a past-time. It wasn’t quite as flat as that, not that I know any witches. Nor am I quite sure how flat a witches tits are supposed to be. I struggled to keep up with the cyclists ahead of me. Generally catching up on the flat bits, but falling behind on the uphill bits. This due to my bike being extremely heavy. I was laden down with 6 bottles of water at this point too. I could feel the strain on my chest as I struggled to keep my breathing under control. I quickly realised that I’d have to take the uphill sections at my own pace, and not worry about being overtaken by everyone – even tandems.

Epping Forest is much more pleasant looking than I expected (admittedly it was in the dark). And large too. While cycling through there was an unbroken line of cyclists ahead and behind me. It was dark by now, and I could see thousands of flashing red tail-lights ahead. A 24 hour garage provided us with a final chance to buy batteries, sandwiches, drinks etc. A few took the chance for a piss in the bushes opposite.

I continued on, but I got a bit confused around this point. For some reason I thought it was an hour later than it really was, and started to get quite disorientated. This may have been directly related to a dip in my sugar levels that became apparent a little later on. I had to have a quick boost to my sugar levels after this brief wobble. I started tucking into the food I had in my panniers. I had these muesli bars and ate one after the other. Soon felt much better.

By now we had entered what appeared to be countryside. I decided to stop and text S. “No idea where I am but its all fields here.” A few people passed, with one asking if I was ok. I affirmed I was, and then drank a huge amount of water. Think I took a couple of pain killers round this time too – I knew that I needed to avoid getting a headache – and this was one way of doing it.

Little villages, pubs still open, and little groups of cyclists had stopped to have a pint or two before closing time. One of these – I distinctly remember, was called Fyfield, and there were about 30 or 40 cyclists partaking in drinking intoxicating fermented juice, around 10.30. Apparently the DD used to start earlier in the evening and participants used to have a bit of a pub crawl on the way out of Essex.

Another participant joined me for a few miles – he told me that we’d hit the 30 miles point – quarter way. And we had a chat for a few miles– we met again later at the feeding station, though I forgot to ask his name – and again back in London.

After the pubs shut - I cycled for miles in the pitch black, barely another cyclist in sight, hardly a car in ten miles. Pot holes were a constant threat, not many, but completely invisible, and at reasonable high speed coming down the hills, hitting one could send me flying. I saw a tandem come a cropper at some point. By around midnight I'd hit my natural pace, and I was truly enjoying the experience.

This was the hard slog part of the journey. I had to put miles and miles behind me. I went as fast as I could down hill and tried to harness the momentum achieved to get up the next one. None of these hills were particularly big, but the route was never completely flat. Occasionally I could see blinking red LEDs in the distance and knew I was catching up with a group of cyclists. I’d ride with a group for a while – until either I left them behind – usually going on an extended down hill bit, or couldn’t keep up any more – usually going up a hill. Sometimes, though, it was because I’d received a text message, and could hear the sound of my phone alerting me to the fact about every 5 minutes. I began noting the distances on the road signs, counting down to the next village, realising around 1 or 2 am that I must be around the half way point, though not really having a clue where I was.

I continued to text S – “aythorpe roding”; “now I’m in flitch”; “Gt Bardfield 43 miles”; “Tis excellent wine gums a life saver”; “im in Suffolk”; and such-like, receiving suitably encouraging text messages back such as “Yay” and “keep going, you’re doing well”, although my phone seems not to have saved any of them, so I’m guessing at the exact content.

At 3.00 I reached the feeding station. I knew it was the feeding station because the occasional candle in a jar I’d been following so far suddenly became a mass of them, leading up a hill to some sort of hall. Cyclists were leaving as I went up the hill, bikes laying everywhere on the grass around the hall, bright lights on inside the hall, people helping themselves to nosh, tea, etc. The queue was huge – but I wanted hot food. I really wanted hot food. Hot carbohydrate heavy food. So I joined the queue. I texted S while waiting in line.

“im at the catering café thing which is a bit surreal there is a massive queue in middle of tiny village and hundreds of bikes”; “Looking forward to sun coming up. my bum is very sore. hoping I get fresh burst of energy after this”; “still queueing”; “I don’t think many drop out” – I think this was an answer to a query about whether I felt like calling it a day or not. At this point dropping out wasn’t an option.

Once in the hall I saw tables laid out like a café, with people in cycling gear at every table – most eating, some sleeping, lots of chatter, photographs being taken. I got the chance to look at a map of the remaining portion of the journey – and it really didn’t look too bad.
Hot food looked really good. I couldn’t wait.

More texts: “damn they ran out of food”; “im having a cup of tea”; “clock just struck four”; “now tea and

flap jack are finished”. seven miles from Dunwich, right

At 4.00 I set off again, reassuringly there were cyclists still arriving. Failing to look at the route, I got lost with another cyclist - called Dave - and we ended up doing a 6 mile detour to get back on the Dynamo route. Instead of seeing the sunrise we were battling with a couple of inadequate maps, trying to find the village we should have been through by now. It didn’t get much easier because the sun had come up. I was worried about the heat – but it never did get particularly warm. But it was back to hard slog again, and for the first time I feel people became competitive. Noone wanted to be the last to arrive. 40 miles to go. 30 miles to go. I knew I was slowing up, but by the time I was around the 100 miles mark, I also knew I was going to finish.

Then I just couldn't believe it - looking back i couldn't see anyone - even though id just passed a load of people. i stopped to take stock, and concerned going back as it seemed i'd taken yet another wrong turn. then a couple of Dutch cyclists passed me and seemed to know where they were going; i followed them. We did find the main route again, but it was another damned detour, and added more milage to the route.

“100 miles”; “you still up?”; “I got about eight miles to go before I get my beer”;

with an unfeesibly sore bum, achey legs, beginnings of a headache, a streaming nose, i limped through the last ten or so miles. the (cruel) rumour that the last 15 miles were all downhill turned out to be complete bollocks. I walked the uphill stretches, passing people who seemed to be in a worse state than me. I reached Dunwich Moor, a bumpy ride, frustratingly long. Cyclists who had finished and were heading back came past us. wonder what they thought of us? I felt like saying - but I would have finished by now if only I hadn't done about 10 miles of unecessary detours.

Signs for Dunwich now. Then Dunwich. Then Dunwich Beach. I went straight for the beach. Parked my bike up, opened up a beer and sat - next to a boat with a couple of cyclists sleeping in it - and drank my bottle of London Porter. Seven miles from Dunwich, right.

“Ive arrived”; “in now on the beach drinking my beer”; “Ta. I’m queuing up for breakfast now”;

Then I had a fried breakfast, found a place on the grass and slept till it was time to load the coaches. It did get extremely chilly though, a

nd I suddenly realised why some cyclists had wrapped themselves up in shiny stuff.

Dunwich Beach cafe, left.

On the way we lost our bikes; we'd been taken to Smithfield Market and the bikes went to Kings Cross. It took an hour or two for bikes and riders to be reunited. No one seemed unduly upset about it though, most were fairly chilled sitting on the pavement.

So my plan for next year is to wear proper shorts - carry more sweet sugary food, about the same amount of water, a decent map – have my route mounted onto the handlebars – get a

brighter front light. If I don’t get lost that’ll save me about an hour on its own. I plan to complete the whole thing in 10 hours - leave at 8 - finish at 6. this way I won't have to queue up quite so much, and be at the beach just in time for the cafe opening.

I'm making S come along too - she should have been with me this year, but was clearly too ill on the day.

This man was killed by Metropolitan police yesterday in the apparent belief that he was a suicide bomber.

The following is from Wickipedia:

"The son of a bricklayer, Menezes grew up on a farm in Gonzaga in the state of Minas Gerais inland from Rio de Janeiro. After discovering an early aptitude for electronics, he left the farm at age 14 to live with his uncle in São Paulo in order to further his education. At 19 he received a professional diploma from Escola Estadual (State School) São Sebastião. He had originally wanted to go to the United States but could not obtain a work visa.

He then entered the UK on a tourist visa in 2002, and subsequently applied for and obtained a student visa for the period to June 2003. According to a statement by the British Home Office, he did not apply for an extension, and was therefore living illegally in the UK after that time. Within 4 months of arriving in the UK he had a good grasp of the English language, and spent his time earning money to send back to his family in Brazil. Menezes had hoped to eventually return to Minas Gerais to start a cattle ranch with the money he had saved.

He was shot and killed by London police who mistakenly believed him to be a suicide bomber on 22 July 2005. On 27 July 2005, Menezes' body was flown to Brazil for burial. His funeral took place in Gonzaga, Brazil, on July 29.[1] A memorial service presided over by Cormac Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor was held in Westminster Cathedral, London, at the same time."

"Disputed facts and events
Virtually all of the facts and events regarding the Menezes shooting were initially disputed by various parties. Contradictory witness accounts, off the record statements from police, and press speculation added to the confusion. As a result, initial press reports on the story presented several different views on the chain of events and facts, which differed from the version later revealed by the IPCC investigation.

Clothing
With regards to his dress on the day of the shooting The Observer reported that he was dressed in "baseball cap, blue fleece and baggy trousers." Mark Whitby, a witness to the shooting, told Reuters that he observed Menezes wearing a large winter coat, which "looked out of place". Vivien Figueiredo, a cousin of Menezes, claimed that she had been told by police that Menezes was wearing a denim jacket on the day of the shooting. Anthony Larkin, another eyewitness, told the BBC that Menezes appeared to be wearing a "bomb belt with wires coming out." No device resembling a bomb belt was reported as found. Menezes was also not carrying a tool bag, since he had left it with his work colleague the previous evening.

According to the report on leaked IPCC documents, Menezes was wearing a pair of jeans and a light denim jacket. These facts were confirmed by a photo of his body on the floor of the carriage after the shooting.

Police challenge
Police intially claimed that they challenged Menezes and ordered him to stop outside Stockwell station. Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Ian Blair said in a press conference that a warning was issued prior to the shooting. Lee Ruston, an eyewitness who was waiting on the platform, said the police made no efforts to identify themselves. The Times reported "senior police sources" as saying that police policy would not require a warning to be given to a suspected suicide bomber before lethal action was taken. [16]

The leaked IPCC documents indicated that Menezes was seated on the train carriage when the SO19 armed unit arrived. A shout of 'police' may have been made, but the suspect never really had an opportunity to respond to it in any way before he was shot. The leaked documents also indicated that he was restrained by an unarmed officer prior to being shot.

Ticket barrier
Eyewitnesses claim that up to twenty police officers in plainclothes pursued Menezes into Stockwell station, that he jumped over the ticket barrier, ran down an escalator and tried to jump onto a train.[17] According to Menezes' family, Menezes did not actually jump over the ticket barrier and may have used a standard London Travel Card to pass the turnstile [18].

Police initially refused to release CCTV footage while the IPCC investigation was ongoing, even to the family. It has been suggested that the man reported by eyewitnesses as jumping over the turnstile may actually have been one of the plainclothes officers in pursuit.[19]

According to the leaked IPCC documents, Menezes passed through the barrier normally using his pre-paid oyster card.

Motivations
Several reasons were initially posited by media sources and family members for why Menezes may have run from police, as indicated by initial reports. A few weeks prior, he had been attacked by a gang and may have relived the situation upon seeing plainclothes officers chasing him. Several sources have speculated that irregularities about his immigration status may have given him reason to be wary of the police[20]. According to some reports, Menezes' student visa had expired, suggesting that he was working illegally, thus fearful of being deported by authorities[21]. The Sydney Morning Herald reported that a work colleague believed that Menezes ran simply because he was late for his job[22].

It was later indicated by the leaked IPCC documents that Menezes ran across the platform apparently to get a seat on the train, but did not know at the time that he was being watched or pursued.

Gunshots
It was initially stated by police that Menezes was shot five times in the head. Mark Whitby, a passenger on the train Menezes had run onto, said: "one of [the police officers] was carrying a black handgun—it looked like an automatic—He half tripped… they pushed him to the floor, bundled on top of him and unloaded five shots into him." Another passenger, Dan Copeland, said: "an officer jumped on the door to my left and screamed, 'Everybody out!' People just froze in their seats cowering for a few seconds and then leapt up. As I turned out the door onto the platform, I heard four dull bangs."[23] Menezes' cousin Alex Pereira, who lived with him, asserted that Menezes had been shot from behind: "I pushed my way into the morgue. They wouldn't let me see him. His mouth was twisted by the wounds and it looked like he had been shot from the back of the neck." Later reports confirmed that Jean Charles de Menezes was shot a total of eight times: seven times in the head and once in the shoulder. [24]

The leaked IPCC documents also indicated that three shots missed, and the spent cartridges were found in the carriage.

Immigration status
According to initial reports from UK government sources Menezes was living in the country illegally on an expired visa at the time he was killed. Menezes' family believed that his visa had been renewed for an additional five years and that he was working in the country legally [25]. On 28 July, the Home Office issued a statement saying that Menezes had arrived in the UK on 13 March 2002 using a six month tourist visa, and had later applied to remain as a student. That application was granted and allowed him to remain until 30 June 2003. This had not been renewed according to their records. [26]

Involvement of special forces
Several commentators suggested that special forces may have been involved in the shooting. Professor Michael Clarke, professor of defence studies at King's College London, went as far as to say that unless there had been a major change in policy it was likely that it was not the police who had carried out the shooting, but special forces:

"To have bullets pumped into him like this suggests quite a lot about him and what the authorities, whoever they are, assumed about him. The fact that he was shot in this way strongly suggests that it was someone the authorities knew and suspected he was carrying explosives on him. […] You don't shoot somebody five times if you think you might have made a mistake and may be able to arrest him. […] Even Special Branch and SO19 are not trained to do this sort of thing. It's plausible that they were special forces or elements of special forces." [27]
Later, on 4 August 2005, The Guardian reported that the newly-created Special Reconnaissance Regiment (SRR), a special forces unit specialising in covert surveillance, were involved in the operation that led to the shooting. The anonymous Whitehall sources who provided the story stressed that the SRR were involved only in intelligence-gathering, and that Menezes was shot by armed police not by members of the SRR or other soldiers. Defence sources would not comment on speculation that SRR soldiers were among the plain-clothes officers who followed Menezes on to the No. 2 bus[28].

"Documents from the independent agency investigation of the shooting later claimed that mistakes in police surveillance procedure led to a failure to properly identify Menezes early on, leading to rushed assumptions and actions later at Stockwell Tube station. The Metropolitan Police and the IPCC refused comment on the allegations while the IPCC investigation was still ongoing, though an anonymous 'senior police source' told the Guardian that the leak was accurate. [4]

The surveillance officer on duty at Scotia Road compared Menezes to the CCTV photographs of the bombing suspects from the previous day, and felt "it would be worth someone else having a look", but "was in the process of relieving [him]self", and was thus unable to immediately turn on a video camera to transmit images to "Gold Command", the Metropolitan Police operational headquarters. On the basis of this officer's suspicion, Gold Command authorized officers to continue pursuit and surveillance.

The street entrance to Stockwell tube station is shown in this photo.The officers followed Menezes for 5 minutes as he walked to the Tulse Hill bus-stop for the Number 2 bus line. As he boarded the bus, several plainclothes policeman boarded, continuing the pursuit. After 10-25 minutes, the bus arrived at Stockwell Tube station, 3.3km (2 miles) away.

At some point during this journey, the pursuing officers contacted Gold Command, and reported that Menezes potentially matched the description of two of the previous day's suspects, including Osman Hussain. Based on this information, Gold Command authorized "code red" tactics, and ordered the surveillance officers to prevent Menezes from boarding a train. Gold Command also transferred control of the operation to SO19, which dispatched firearms officers to Stockwell Tube Station.

At some point Menezes phoned a colleague, Gesio de Avila, saying he would be late due to the disruption of public transport caused by the previous day's attempted bombings.

Menezes entered the Tube station at about 10:00 a.m., stopping to pick up a free Metro newspaper. He used his "Oyster card" to pay the fare and pass the ticketing turnstile, and descended the escalator slowly. He then ran across the platform to board the newly-arrived train. Menezes boarded the train and found one of the first available seats.

Three surveillance officers followed Menezes onto the train. One of the officers identified the squadron of firearms officers on the platform and alerted them to the suspect's location. The firearms officers boarded the train and challenged the suspect. Menezes stood, at which point the surveillance officer grabbed him, pinning his arms against his torso, and pushed him back into the seat. The armed police officers, who had boarded the train, restrained the surveillance officer and shot Menezes. Two officers fired a total of eleven shots. Menezes was shot seven times in the head and once in the shoulder at close range, and died at the scene.

Immediately after the shooting, the Metropolitan Police claimed that the shooting was "directly linked" to the investigation of the attempted bombings the previous day. It was revealed that police policy toward suspected suicide bombers had been revised, instructing officers to fire directly toward the head, as British authorities claim that shooting at the chest could detonate a concealed bomb.[5]

The officers involved in the shooting (from Scotland Yard’s SO19 firearms branch) were debriefed and drugs and alcohol tests were taken as a standard procedure. The officers were taken off duty pending an investigation into the shooting."

Well that's over for another two years. There was the flood, which only slightly affected us. But it did flood the tent up to - ohh - half an inch in places. Enough actually to make most of clothes damp and to wreck some of our food. Apart from a bit of a row on Friday morning we survived, and managed to have a good time anyway.We also had a couple of kids with us, so had a bit of responsibility. Managed to dump them in the kidz field most of the time, making sure they had a phone to contact us when they wanted out. Before the storm, top left.

Friday morning was wiped out of course, but in the afternoon wandered round. A lot of the stalls were under water, the music was running late, and my phone was out of action as it filled with water. This prevented my friend K from contacting me as he planned once arriving at the site. It was touch and go for a while, with the rain always threatening to come back, black clouds appearing and the odd bit of thunder. And the rain did keep coming back, preventing things from drying out.

S and I hid in the left field tent watching Cuban bands while I used her phone to try to contact K. We succeeded and went back to the camp site.

Saw Steve Earle - the highlight. Later we managed to see Elvis Costello, and met up with some urban 75 posters at the cider bus.

The early morning saw me and S queueing to get on the ghost train.

Saturday - a better day, still muddy. I went off to see Echo and the Bunnymen at the other stage. It was still very muddy round there, and I was walking with a mutual friend of S and I, slipped and fell in the mud as we walked. I was quick enough to use my arm to stop me going all the way in, and ended up with a muddy arm. Once the mud dried it was like clay, all over my hand. I felt it seizing up. So I used my other hand to work the mud off.

I Met up with K just as I'd managed to get the worst of the mud off, and noticed Hooky from New Order was doing a DJ set in the beer tent. The Bunnymen pretty much did the songs we all wanted to hear. The Cutter, Back of Love, etc. They were pretty wonderful as it happened. Failed to see the Beat - family obligations. Saw a bit of Billy Bragg. Ate a still legal mushroom in the evening and wandered round the site till 3 am. Can't remember much of that, although I know we took in a little cabaret and ate a square pie each.

Sunday and the site was drying out. Spent the day mostly in the circus and theatre bits, but maanged to see New Order and Brian Wilson in the afternoon. Met up with K - a different K - who I hadn;t seen since some time round 98 or 99. He's moved to Dorset with his wife.

Managed to miss Chas and Dave while waiting to get a beer.

Sunday evening - Tori amos in the accoustic tent. she had her Hammond Organ with her. Very impressive!

Monday - we stayed on till early evening with stalls open and some entertainment - had a

pretty easy drive home in evening.

I don't want to think about who I missed - far too many - buts that's what happens when you take kids - we wanted them to have a good time too, and watching the bands we liked wasn't going to give them a good time.

We took shit loads of gear with us. The alternative was spending hundred of squid on take-away food for the kids and ourselves, and a small fortune on beer too. Most of the gear was camping equipment - including a camping stove and pots to cook with. And we ate tinned and dried food - pasta, rice, soup etc. Didn't stop me sampling some of the better food available though - square pie, French sausage (below) and potato, and roast pork with fried potato and gravy.

My route to work has evolved again. Now, once in North Woolwich, I head for the East London Greenway - a former railway - the embankment has been cleared and turned into a cycle path.
london geezer is where i got this picture from.

The only problem being the hidousy steep hill from woolwich up to Shooter's Hill, where the disused haunted police station is sited.

Saw the Fall last night for about the dozenth time. The first two times I saw them were in the Woolwich Coronet - a building I pass twice a day on the way to and from work. It's some sort of whacky church these days, and very run-down. Brix Smith was in the band back then- it was the classic mid 80s line up, and they were magnificent. The Fall these days - and last night they were in very good form - is an altogether different type of thing. Smith has to work hard just to keep upright. He always looks pissed (translation for americans: drunk) and lets face it, he probably was. And you get the feeling that the band have been told exactly what to play and how to play it. Smith does not look like he's about to tolerate any improvisation, or deviation from the script. They kept to new material - no classics played in the Forum last night - but that would only be a problem if the new stuff wasn;t any good - and it is. I just didn;t know it very well. And that's my problem, not the Fall's.

They came on stage over an hour late which meant I missed getting a train back to Lewisham where my bike was chained up, and had to get a night bus. Normally I find night buses dificult due to the drunken state of most of the late night revellers trying to get home. But being quite pissed myself at this point, I didn't really notice. The hangover had started even before I reached my bike. I overshot the stop by one and had to walk nearly half a mile back to Lewisham station. Then the bike ride to Chislehurst was agonising, with a pounding head. After that I remember bugger all. Felt really bad this morning though.

Hey - RocknRoll!

Cider, sheep, goats, chickens, owls, motorcycle displays, jousting, , steam engines, huge bouncy castles, curry, frozen yogurt, tower blocks, charity stalls, and doggy obedience displays - all in one place.

S'good.

The following is from a Crisis newsletter (crisisnewsletter@pro-net.co.uk ) :

RICIN TRIAL: MORE BLAIR BALONEY

"In case you missed it, the result of the so-called Al Qaeda linked terrorist "ricin" trial exposed another Blair/MI6 fairytale. Contrary to the BBC News account, splashed sensationally at the time of the arrests, and repeated deceitfully at the end of the trial, the court found there was never any ricin and there was no conspiracy. Instead there was a single deranged would be terrorist whose recipe for ricin came from a US right wing anarchist internet site. There were also some people who may hate US/UK (plenty of those nowadays thanks to Blair and Bush) but were acquitted of criminal charges. In any case ricin is virtually unusable as a weapon of mass murder as MI6 knew, and BBC News should have known, all along.
When The Guardian revealed the true story they had a D notice slapped on them and the article was removed from their web site with no explanation. However experts for the defence have published their account, a fascinating insight into government and media lies, at this address:
http://www.globalsecurity.org/org/nsn/nsn-050411.htm . "

"Adam Curtis, the BBC producer of The Power of Nightmares (debunking the Al Qaeda myth), commented on the ricin phantasy on receiving a BAFTA award only to have his speech censored by his own employer.
http://media.guardian.co.uk/site/story/0,14173,1462591,00.html ."

This is from Crisis too:

In the last few days the election has come alive, with the leak of the government's legal advice on the Iraq war. It raised doubts over the legality of the war on six separate grounds, including the obvious point that there is nothing in the UN Charter that invests in the UK government
the right to decide how it should be interpreted. The UN Charter makes it very clear that the Security Council has that role. The Secretary general has pronounced the invasion illegal.

Blair has now been caught flat out lying in his statements (a) that in autumn 2002 no decision had been made to invade Iraq, (b) that the WMD intelligence was confirmed and authoritative and now (c) that the legal advice was unequivocal. The government's legal position is that they invaded Iraq because Iraq was in alleged breach of a UN 1991 ceasefire resolution. Why after 12 years did it became so urgent to invade? We know the answer: because soon the UN inspectors would be confirming that Iraq had no WMDs and were therefore not in substantive breach of the ceasefire resolution.

Labour were hoping they had put the issue to rest when the media spun the "Iraqi election" as a success story. Many people now imagine that there is a real Iraqi government, that torture has been stopped, and that things there are slowly improving. They imagine there is no alternative to the occupation because they have not heard that the Saudis offered to replace US/UK troops
with an arab force under UN control. Nonetheless polls indicate a majority now wish to see a troop withdrawal.

The opinion polls tell us the election cannot be won by the tories but is otherwise wide open: on average Labour has a moderate lead but this is misleading. In recent elections Labour has underperformed compared to its poll figures (partly due to abstention by voters in safe Labour seats), but overperformed in terms of seats, due to anti-tory tactical voting.

The election result will hinge on the extent to which anti-Tory tactical voting is replaced by anti-New Labour strategic voting. The word from the grassroots is that this factor will be big. A hard indication of this is the poll finding that, for the first time for over ten years, Libdem voters are
splitting 50/50 on whether they would prefer Labour or Tory.

Blair calculated Iraqis might welcome the invasion, that voters would have forgotten about it by the time of the election, and in any case that opponents of the war have nowhere else to go politically. He was wrong on all three counts. The Dumpblair message is in wide circulation: we can drastically reduce Blair's majority AND, because there will be a 80-100 other MPs in the new Parliament, we can also be confident of denying the Tories a sneak win.

Opinion varies on whether Labour should be denied an overall majority altogether. A report originating in the US and picked up briefly by the BBC last week has it that Blair promised Murdoch that he will not resign, whatever the result of the election. A few days later The Sun gave Blair a lukewarm endorsement. To put a stake through Blair's neocon heart probably requires that Labour lose their overall majority, forcing a review of who is Prime Minister.

Strategicvoter and Dumpblair hope to place a last ad in the Guardian just before the election, listing the 130 or so swing seats, including special cases and Green and Respect target seats. The ad will advise people to vote expressively in all other seats (see appeal below).

There are two wild cards in this election. When neocon leaders Bush and Aznar have faced elections since 9/11 there has been a convenient terrorist incident in the runup to the vote: the "Washington sniper" for the mid terms in 2002, the "Osama Bin Laden" video three days before the 2004 Presidential elections and of course the Madrid bombs which backfired so badly against Aznar. If it happens here, don't believe it.

The other is that there is a serious risk the Blairites will conduct a Bush style major vote fraud using the huge increase in postal voting. Paranoia? Not according to the judge who sentenced Birmingham Labour councillors for fraud in the elections last year, who described the city as like a banana republic. See

Has spring turned the peds of London suicidal, so that instead of looking before they cross the road, they take a flying leap in front of the nearest oncoming cyclist?
I ask this because I cannot believe how many times I had to resort to dinging my bell this morning. But of course, spring has also contrived to make these people deaf too, as I had no response to my dinging at all – so shouting at top of my voice was the only method left for me to make my presence known, other than actually colliding with, eg, a young mother, the sprog trailing behind her, or the buggy (with baby) being pushed ahead.

But still, spring seems to be in full flourish right now – the sunlight reflecting off the rain dampened roads, lifted my spirits no end. Only the large puddles around every blocked street drain caused me a problem. I usually choose to go round, as cycling through them would ensure I was sodden for the rest of the ride. But going round puts me in conflict with the speeding traffic, driven by morons who will not give an inch to a cyclist – forwhat reason I have no idea. I drive, and I have no problem leaving space for cyclists, anticipating when they might need to pull around an object, etc. But then – I give a shit, and most drivers clearly don’t.

I lived in Woolwich for four years while I was studying at Thames Polytechnic. but I never actually made it onto the Ferry.

I'm not sure why. We used to drink in a pub just up the road from it, and I even used the foot tunnel to get to North Woolwich once, but somehow, never ventured onto the ferry.

That's all changed now, as I had a little while ago I had to get to Thamesmead to buy a discontinued item from the Argos there, and then get into work.

It's not a profound experience really, but I enjoyed the 15 minutes standing looking at over the side of the ferry, watching the ferry on the other side of the Thames do exactly

the same, smelling the estuary smells, watching a barge or two go by, listening to the seagulls, and then finally the view of Woolwich from across the river.

There's always a huge queue of vehicles - both sides of the river - waiting for the ferries: there's usually two in service. I've spotted lorries from round Europe - camper vans - cars jammed with luggage and kids, god knows what these visitors think of the arrangement here - probably wondering why the authorities never built a bridge here.

Once the ferry sets off there's usually only a one or two drivers who get out of their vehicles and take in the full Woolwich Ferry experience. Not only are there the usual river sights, but there's the Dome, Canary Wharf, Thames Barrier, Tate and Lyle sugar plant and 9 times out of 10 a large freighter unloading into it. I tend to do a bit of bird spotting on the way - usually seeing common terns, gulls and cormorants.

Another link

The cycle ride up to Stratford takes about 45 minutes, making the route viable for me to use as a regular route to work, and I'm sure I've mentioned how much I hate the Greenwich foot tunnel with its unreliable lifts, herds of tourists and grumpy operators.

street furniture

The plane touched down at 1.30 and we finally got out of the airport at around 2.30. An uneventful drive home, only to find that the cats had pissed and shit all over the bed while we were away.

It's 4 am now, and it only remains for me to unpack the piles of sausage and cheese we brought back, and stash in the fridge, before laying down on the sofa and getting a well earned four hours kip...

We've been on a jaunt to Granada and round the Sierra Nevada, back through the Alpajarras and then, via Malaga, to Antequera.

S. was wiped out afterwards - despite my offers to take over - S. doesn't trust me as a driver - and maybe she's right - it's not in my top ten skills to boast about.

I got K. put on the insurance - so he drove for a bit on Friday.

I was impressed with Granada - full of students and quite lively. We walked round the Albaicin - even though the guide book said not to after dark - we did anyway. Found a half decent restaurant which we thought was posh authentic Spanish - until we noticed that all the other customers spoke English. Still we made the best of it. Had a seafood soup and we all shared a meaty Paella. Very nice - I've never had it before.

Then we staggered back to our hostel. I had an early morning the next morning - standing in line to get tickets for the alhambra. We thought we'd made it to Granada without seeing the alhambra for a second time, but after a bit of advice from the nice girl who ran our hostel, I decided to make the supreme sacrifice - getting out of bed before 8am.

It was worth it. S. was happy, and I was quite gobsmacked by the interior decor of the palaces.

After a meal in a nearby restaurant it was back on the road till we hit the mountains. I took us the wrong way initially, but eventually we got the map-reading sorted and made it up to the highest roads in Europe.

Windy roads, loads of donkeys, old ladies - thicker than tree trunks, walking between villages with hand-picked herbs - old men with goats - dogs with road sense - little white villages hanging from the hills - ham hanging from the ceilings - and finally a meal of traditional meats in Orgiva.

Then home.

After a late rising, we drove down to Malaga and along the Coast road - to rubber-neck at the plebs on the Costa Del Sol.

It's wall-to-wall high rise hotels and tacky bars. All traces of Spain have been wiped from this coast and replaced by an Essex mans' ideal night out writ large.

A tapas bar in Antequera in the morning, and a drive out to the town of Ronda in the afternoon. Breathe-taking views over the gorge.

K was still up when we got back - after midnight - and "Help Me Ronda" came on the radio. Fantastic!!

Arrived in Andalucia in the early hours. We were given an "upgrade" by the hire company from Ford Focus to a fecking Kia. Some upgrade!!

Found Antequera quite easily - looked round the town, castle on the hill et al and then hooked up with my mate, K.

K. has a town house at the top of the town, near the castle, which has a quite magnificent view across Antequera.

In the evening we drove to the local lagoon and saw flamingos, other birds and bats. K. demonstrated his bat "detector" both on bat sounds and his own exhalations of wind.

We got tickets
We got tickets
We got tickets
We got tickets

Yeahhhhh...

It's been a long time since I posted - but now I'm back.

Spring is here again. I've been watching the moorhens attacking each other on the Regent's Canal -a sure sign that the little moorhen chicks are about to emerge blinking into the light. But I might not be here to see the first ones. See, I'm off to Andalucia on Monday, for a whole week.

While I'm away, we'll see the election of a new pope (he's not quite dead as I write, but he is quite poorly), and Prince Charley will have married for a second time. And who knows what else?

I'll be able to avoid these momentous events - even though I suspect the pope thing will get quite good coverage in Spain - I believe they take Roman Catholicism quite seriously there.

Now that spring is here the roads are again packed with fair wheather cyclists, many of whom are barely competent, and it will only get worse as we head towards summer. For at least one day in the fortnight of minor blizzards we experienced in February, I didn't see more than one other cyclist on the road.

and yes, in the end we did get snow on the ground - about a couple of inches, enough to make my journey to work a little slippy. The canal was frozen that day so I was able to watch the water birds walking where they usually swam - waddling along slowly on the frozen water.

Bye for now...

John Gaunt – the fat presenter – was complaining about the lack of snow and the fact that the apocolyptic forecast yesterday appeared to be a kneejerk reaction to last year's failure to predict a massive blizzard cutting off hundreds of people in their cars. And again this morning – the snow has failed to materialise. There were flurries around ten, but then it turned to sleet and rain. The new forecast is that it is pretty unlikely that snow will be a problem in London. I noticed that there was plenty of grit on the roadsthis morning, so I can't see why anyone can complain. Weather forecasting is far from an exact science, and a high probability of snow should be enough to trigger a response from the gritters.

“Extinction” – author Ray Hammond was on the Robert Elms show. Earthquakes are doubling every year. – small to middle-range earthquakes – according to Hammond. Extinction is a thriller about global warming reaching crisis point and the puny human response to it. I haven't read it. Yet. But Hammond has done research that suggests global warming has affected the plate techtonics - the raise in temperatures has caused a corresponding expansion in volume of the earth's crust - which in turn has caused more instability in earthquake prone areas. Watch this space.

One of the bizarre things about the Internet is being able to rummage through random people’s photo albums like this:
Family pictures from America
A Scandinavian on holiday – you can access some of her other albums too. Notice how many of her pictures are completely out of focus.
This, I assume, is an American. His pictures are pretty awful.
some more here
I’m glad that someone’s doing this – a blog made up of pictures of dog signs:

Finding somewhere to take a piss in this city is not easy. Even though Westminster council have set up pop up toilets or "Telescopic urinals" in Leicester Square starting at 8pm it doesn't help me much. I had to piss on the Sidcup bypass on the way home tonight - and honestly I'd much rather use a proper toilet.

I'm intrigued by these pop up toilets though. They sit in the ground - under the pavement all day and then at eight they pop up out of the ground. My mission is now to see these things rising out of the ground. Or to stand on top of one while it comes up.

Cycling round Elephant and Castle this morning, a van edged in front of me at the give way line and I had to get out of his way before he pulled forward, otherwise his back end would have clipped me, possibly knocking me off my bike.

I had some arsehole pull in front of me yesterday up the road from Tower Bridge (Bermondsey). He pulled right out past the give way line and was waiting; I kept going but as I approached, he pulled forward. I slammed the anchors on and nearly never stopped (snow obviously affecting my brakes). Once I stopped he had stopped so I went forward again. And he went forward too. So I stopped, but now I was in front of him. He kept trying to edge forward, so I asked him to stop. He leant out of his window and told me to cross the road where we could sort it out. Sort what out I wondered? I told him what the problem was and again - he pointed across the road, said we could talk over there. I told him that the only problem was the fact that he wouldn't stop long enough to let me get out of his way. As I cycled off I told him to "f**k off c**t".

I was mad!!

Snow then - it's been snowing for a few days now, but little is laying on the ground, and none on the roads, even though the weather people keep saying that the next one will be a big one, it has so far faded back to nothing.

I've got me goggles just in case.

stuff that happened on this date

When Blerim Mlloja was three, his mother was shot dead after being involved in anti-communist uprisings in Albania. His father put the boy into a children’s home before being shot dead too about six years ago.
After that Blerin was arrested twice and beaten up to gain information about his parents. At 15 he escaped to Britain and was adopted by a couple in Eltham called Mary Watts and Michael Reedes.
Two weeks ago it was his 18th birthday; he was called in to the Home Office’s immigration directorate in Croydon, arrested, and sent to a detention centre near Heathrow.
He’d applied to stay in the country last year, but the application was rejected. His solicitor failed to lodge an appeal, which allowed the Home Office to take the action it did.
Dr Barcroft, Blerim’s psychiatrist, wrote a report for the Medical Foundation for the care of victims of torture, arguing that he should not be deported for health reasons.
Now Blerim says he is suffering panic attacks and has thought about killing himself.
Hooray for British justice!

OK – I survived. We came home and I watched the Natural History of Europe. It’s quite good – like that Titchmarsh programme on BBC1, about the Natural History of Britain, that was on last year, but without Titschmarsh. A lot of the graphics and effects to illustrate the narration, eg, images of the ice sheet towering over North London, are from that series, and are very good. But with a decent narrator, and not some egotistical nob gibbering on and poncing about in a variety of costumes and locations, the program becomes very watchable indeed. Hoorah for BBC4!
nob
very good indeed

Cycling home yesterday - via Victoria Park, Mile End, Limehouse, Isle of Dogs, Greenwich, past the Cutty Sark, and up the hill to Blackheath - I got told by the grumpy lift operator in the Greenwich foot tunnel, that I had to turn my light off, in a tone of voice that suggested I should already know about this odd new rule, and simultaneously pointed at this notice printed on an A4 sheet stuck up on the lift wall. I'd seen the sign and it said 'no flashing lights' - and I thought, well that must be due to the fact that flashing lights can disturb some people, or maybe be an irritation for non-cycling tunnel users. So I said "the sign says flashing lights and my light isn;t flashing". He said that was a mistake and all lights should be turned off. I didn't like to ask why due to the surliness of the lift operator. But what a stupid rule, and why the fuck did the bloke get so pissed off when I was clearly obeying the sign as it was then; why did he think I could read minds and know that I was supposed to turn my non-flasjing light off when the sign said flashing lights only.

Anyway the signs been ammended this morning, using tippex, to say all lights must be turned off going through the tunnel. I'm going to phone the number to find out why - must remember to write it down next time I go through.

Trying to buy a power supply for S’s laptop. I’ve been trying to find a cheaper alternative, but it does seem that 45 squid is the cheapest I’ll get. On the Smasung site its priced at around 55, but I’ve found a company that sells it at 45. With the VAT and postage though it’s bumped up to 60. Arseholes!

I am faced with a terrible task. A task that will test all my courage. It’s parents evening at our daughter’s school. S wants to raise certain issues with the school – I have to put my terror and the fact that I am still suffering from lack of sleep aside.

I rode my bike slowly after taking (not quite) teenage daughter to school. Power naps became necessary scattered through the day. In the evening I managed to catch the brilliant Radio Four show, Just a Minute, and tidied up the kitchen just in time for S to arrive home from shopping in Peckham.
I watched one programme on the telly this evening; a short documentary about the origins and history of Monty Python – part of the Comedy Connections series. I was only disappointed to find out that even though the Independent illustrated this programme with a photo of Eddie Izzard in drag - as a fairy – Izzard had nothing to do with this programme. The photo was actually from Pythons 30th anniversary reunion in the late 90s.

I was intending to turn up at the Urban75 book group at the Royal Festival Hall. I couldn;t find them, the place was so packed. I hung around for a bit with a pint, and as the place emptied I thought I'd find them, but no. A second pint came and went, and gave up. The bastards were hiding – I know they were. Quite enjoyed being in the RFH though.

I cycled in to Central London on the thoroughly nasty Tower Hill/ Byward Street/ Lower Thames St./ Upper Thames St./ Victoria Embankment road. The scariest bit was where Lower Thames Street links up with Byward St, and I suddenly found myself stuck out in between two lanes of fast moving fuckers – lorries, cars, taxis, etc. and no-one gives an inch on London Roads. I wasn’t expecting it at all, I’ll be ready next time, if there is one.

Cycling round London is not easy. If you do it properly it becomes quite risky. But I have a need to cycle and intend to be taken seriously as part of the traffic. Vicki McCreery, a woman my age, was killed last year cycling across Blackfriars bridge as a result of a dodgy cycle lane put in by the government. It was a narrow lane that ran between two lanes of traffic used by buses. Now I know how bus drivers drive round here, and they don’t like cyclists much. So it should come as no surprise that Vicky McCreery was ran over and killed by some such fuckwit who wasn’t even looking where he was going. It is some justice that this man has gone to prison for manslaughter, but I’d rather these deaths didn’t happen in the first place.

Then when I got home S found this message on Urban75:

“apologies to anyone who tried to find us and failed last night.. the place was
rammed when we arrived so we ended up hidden in a far back corner behind a large
pillar and a small castle.I am happy to report we had a gay old time. With
Cocktails and canapes, witty banter and only a few accidental proposals of
marriage. we failed to think of a good irish book for st patricks day but I'm
open to persuasion that we take a swing at Flan O'Brien. we did decide that Amos
Oz will be one of the next few books. This one I think.we may have
thought of another book too but i forget what”

The Olympics technical committee is poking round Stratford today. As I went across the Lee Valley I saw blimps floating over various sites. They mark the planned sites for various Olympics buildings/ stadia, so that the nice foreign people in purple fleeces can see how the plans will translate into reality.
But what's being skated over are the views of the dissenters. Businesses will be wiped out. Local people will see developments that they’ve contributed to, campaigned for, helped put together, plans sympathetic to the environment, sympathetic to the needs of the area, being bulldozed over by top-down undemocratic, unfair, unsuitable development, wiping out pockets of wildlife and character in the area.
There's a wider point here too. As politics has been sidelined with the widely hailed death of ideology - ordinary people aren't supposed to be talking politics any more - it’s even a dirty word for politicians. All our politicians stand for the same neo-liberal capitalist orthodox policies. The Power of Nightmares explained eloquently how our governments, now they can't make any grand promises, have decided to scare us shitless with world terrorism fantasies. But one thing they can promise us is sport, sporting heroes and great sports events. We are being distracted by sport, expected to make it part of ambition either to excel in sport or support a great hero/ team. The press join in and the sports pages are expanding; whole channels are devoted to sport. Up to 30% of our news bulletins now contain sport. Sporting heroes are instantly given great honours, e.g., Dame Kelly Holmes, while true greats, intellectual greats, writers, actors, musicians, scientists, have to wait a lifetime for their honours. But while Kelly Holmes is not an intellectual, she does parrot the government line. She toadies up to Blair in a way that musicians, writers and intellectuals won’t. Blair’s government were stung in the early days by the the Brit pop stars, comedians, writers etc, almost en masse turning their back on a government who came to power offering a return to the centre-left, but only gave us more of the Thatcherite dream. So now he no doubt feels safer with fuckwitted daytime tv hosts and feeble minded sports stars.
It's easy to see our Olympic bid fitting into this. Stratford has been whitewashed, cleaned up, palm trees planted, graffiti removed, roads cleared, etc. Banners everywhere scream "Back the Bid". And that's the mantra, Back the Bid or we won't win, the doubters are told. Which doesn't make sense, as the doubters don't want the fecking Olympics anyway. News of the bid's progress helps push other items, less happy items, off the news bulletins. If we are chosen in the summer, there will be no dissent allowed. Top-down plans will be imposed on a very run-down part of the city. In a city that is screaming out for good schools, more GPs, more police stations, more youth facilities, more premises for small businesses, more affordable homes, etc, what we will actually get are sports stadia. And worse, existing sports facilities in Hackney, currently used by ordinary kids, are going to be turned into a fecking coach and car park!!
I’m not against the Olympics. Part of my mind is really looking forward to it. I’m even fairly confident we will win. But I fear that it will not meet the needs of the people in East London; will be completely irrelevant to their needs in fact. It will cause harm to the area. After the Olympics in Atlanta, once the multinational corporations pulled out, the Olympic village reverted to a dangerous high crime area, with entrenched poverty and no jobs. How do the politicians ensure that that will not happen in Stratford?

NEWS:
no chance?;
Official sites:
Official site; LDA; BOA; government
Protest sites:
Against the Bid; enrager.net;

I had a mini-hangover this morning. Only drank four pints with my friend Keef - down at the Half Moon in Herne Hill, followed by a Kebab each. Everyone is arsey on a Monday night. We were pestered at closing time in the pub, and pestered again in the kebab shop. I hate this fucking country.

S has tidied the flat so it was quite nice to be able to drink coffee and get ready in a calm and orderly environment. This doesn't include the cats who are rarely calm and orderly.

There was a wind again, enough to cause me a nuisance while cycling, but not to slow me down much. There was a lot of traffic over Tower Bridge, which slowed me down too. What cunts some motorists are. They behave as if cyclists are invisible, and jam themselves into improbably small spaces just to gain a foot on the road, which then jams up the road so much that not even a cyclist can get by without mounting the pavement.

I listened to John "the cunt" Gaunt on BBC London while cycling into work this morning. Another debate on immigration - yawn. And that Mayor Livingstone scandal rolls on yet again. He had refused to apologise yet again. Good. Fucking good on you Ken! I support you. He's called the Evening Standard 'fascist scum'. Which is what they are. I agree.
I hope he doesn't apologise. Jewish people claim to be offended by remarks made to this reporter (who happens to be Jewish). He was at a private event, uninvited, harrassing guests, and harrassing Ken Livingstone. If Livingstone lost his temper then he is justified. This reporter who claimed he was offended was in fact fucking delighted that he'd recorded Ken making this remark, and now the E.S. is intent on milking it for all its worth.
I would have gone further. Instead of comparing him to a nazi, I would have compared him to an Israeli marine, murdering Arabs, and bolstering Sharon's evil regime. and if he didn't like it he could have shoved it up his arse. Cunt!!
If Jews are offended by this then they should get real, get their fucking priorities in order. There's a fascist regime in the middle east murdering in the name of their faith. Why don't they get offended by that instead, like I am, and fucking do something!

I thank you.

"Two campaigners should have been given legal aid by British government to defend themselves against libel action by McDonald's, European court of human rights rules." The Guardian.

I've been following this case for the past 15 years or so. I've supported the two in actions and fundraising. I've distributed the same leaflet that they were defending. I've also been aware that the libel laws in the UK are a considerable barrier to a free and open debate on the issues around multinational corporations.

Now corporations might think twice before taking on activists.

Between 10 and 11 last night I heard a huge noise like thunder. But it wasn't thunder. This noise was apparently heard all over London. I still have no clue what it was.

It was discussed on the Robert Elms show today.

Follow up added on Tuesday: A weather scientist brought on to Elms's show today said it was thunder. Small thunder storms form this time of year, and though small, release their energy in one huge bolt. It explains why this thunder bolt was so loud, and why no-one saw a thunder storm.

Went with the famille to Soho's Chinatown, to join in with the new year celebrations. K took a little friend with her. It was bitterly cold, with a biting wind. Masses of people, all wrapped against the elements, were there. Many Chinese, with cameras, kids and waving little Chinese things, dragons, roosters, etc.
We saw the dancers, in Lion and dragon costumes, working their way round Soho, dancing at the doors, and inside, all the businesses in the area. The lions are offered cabbages, which they rip apart and fling in the air.
But the bad news is that Chinatown is under threat. Its a bit from Newport Place to Newport Court, onto parts of Charing Cross Road, known as Sandringham Building. The freehold is owned by Westminster Council. It's full of Chinese businesses - newsagents, jewellery shop, grocery shops, and a fishmonger.
But a property developer called Rosewheel have bought the 200 years lease of Sandringham Building and have served notices to quit to the tenants so a Trocadero style shopping mall can be built there. And then the high street brand names, Tesco, Next etc, will be moving in.
This will be A FUCKING DISASTER!!
Hence, the Save Chinatown Campaign.
Contact Jabez Lam, 07940 514 268
Save Chinatown Campaign, 14 Featherstone Road, Southall, Middlesex, UB2 5AA.
Go to the above link and sign the petition.

Transpontine
Things to do in Deptford when you're not dead (plus New Cross and other South London beauty spots). 'Transpontine' was a word invented in the 19th century to disparage the popular culture found across the bridges on the South side of the Thames. We have reclaimed it for the Southlands! EMAIL US: transpont at hotmail dot com
http://www.transpont.blogspot.com/

The US have been engaged in “systematically seizing suspects and sending them, without legal process, not only to Guantanamo Bay but to authorities in countries such as Egypt, Jordan and Syria.” Some prisoners are sent to secret “CIA hellholes”. The system is known as “extraordinary rendition” – described by campaigners as a “system of torture by proxy”. Britain has been providing the some of the for this operation, and is the operational base for two executive jets used by the CIA to carry prisoners to Egypt and Jordan from countries including Sweden and Indonesia, and uses Luton, Glasgow, Prestwick and Northolt airports.
Both jets are white and unmarked with a US civilian registration – one a 737, the other a Gulfstream Jet. They are owned by US companies that only exist on paper, and act as fronts for the CIA. The Gulfstream is formally owned by Bayard Foreign Marketing; Thomas Bayard’s signature appears on the documents, a fictional identity.
In December 2001 a team of masked US agents arrived in Sweden “to transfer two Egyptian dissidents, both accused of terrorist involvement, to Cairo. Both later complained of torture.” One, Mohammed al-Zery, was eventually cleared and freed.
Yassir al Sirri, an Islamic radical living in London was arrested in October 2001; his computer was seized along with fax records. These were passed to the US and in the following weeks many of Mr Sirri’s contacts around the world were seized too, including al-Zery. Eventually, Sirri too was cleared of any charge.

I got up relatively early considering its Saturday. This was so I could drive to a bike shop some distance away with an old Post Office bike we found dumped - a few years ago - and get an assessment of what it would take to restore it to a useable condition. The guy took one look and said that there was no way he could do anything. So it's down to me to try to source parts for it, and do the work myself.
S and I weighed ourselves. She's lost more than me, quel suprise!
Then we went shopping at Sainsburys and spent a hundred quid.

Despite the diplomatic language, Condoleeza Rice's comments are the latest in a long campaign to intimidate Iran. I suspect that the US want far more than the mere removal of a nuclear programme. The US want an internal revolt and the return to a west-friendly regime in the country. Rice's comments will serve to help bring about this end; US threats will create fear within Iran, which has already began to dispense with reforms it had previously introduced, with moderates being undermined. Rice's threats will help those in Iran who want to take a hardline against the west, and those who oppose tenative reforms.
Then of course the US will use the fact of this backsliding towards dictatorship as a reason for more intervention, sanctions, and eventually bombing and intervention. Somewhere down the line a prosperous and powerful nation will have been turned into another Iraq, broken and impoverished, ready to be invaded and occupied, if necessary, if internal dissent hasn't produced a civil war in the mean time.
Rice is now giving out warnings, just days after it was reported that the US had no intention of invading Iran (with the "for now" comment included in only some reports). She is now warning that the patience of the Bush administration was not unlimited. Clearly not! She added "we believe this is the time for diplomacy", there was "no deadline" and "no timeline" and said a "diplomatic solution is in our grasp". "It is obvious that, if Iran cannotbe made to live up to its international obligations, the IAEA statutes suggest Iran would have to be referred to the UNSC." A repeat of the long campaign against Iraq.

But what about Saudi Arabia? Its election on the 10th allowed no females to vote, and no female candidates to stand. Men will be electing only half of the members to local councils and the rest will be appointed by the Royal family.
All key ministerial posts are held by crown princes and the unelected parliament's role is purely consultative. Less than one third of those eligible to vote have actually registered, and there are no political parties mainly businessmen engaged in self -promotion. Anyone suggesting a change to this system is barred from standing, arrested, imprisoned, and probably tortured using British-made equipment. Marvellous!
When are we going to bring democracy to this oppressive Arab dictatorship then?
So far the US have failed to condemn these elections. They wouldn't dare, knowing full well that if the Saudis wanted to - they could cause US prosperity to collapse overnight.

After the nice things I said about Wharf Cycles - the bike shop I use on the Isle of Dogs - I went to collect my bike after work and found they'd shut early. I couldn't get my bike back, which left me having to use shitty public transport (a bus, mainly) to get home. The 321 is a truly shitty bus. It's always vandalised, generally filled with Chavy kids, seats in an appalling state, ripped up, loose, with food and wrappers, drinks etc spilled all over and around on the floor.
What I have to endure eh?

I managed to get my bike back this morning though, after another appalling ride on the 321 bus, this time full of elderly types getting on and off at every bloody stop. But at least the repair only cost 6 squid. Wharf Cycles are back in my good books!

The US still has 480 nuclear weapons in Europe, according to a survey by the Natural Resources Defense Council, based in Washington DC. 300 are fitted to be dropped by US aircraft, & 180 by local air-forces. There are 110 in Britain, stored at RAF Lakenheath, Suffolk; 150 in Germany at 3 bases; 90 in Italy; 90 in Turkey; 20 in Belgium and 20 in the Netherlands. All the weapons are under US control.
At the height of the cold war, the US had 7,300 short range weapons in Europe, but numbers fell sharply from the late 80s. The US have been giving the impression that only 200 US nukes remained in Europe. The question is now, why do we still have these weapons in Europe, and why do the US continue to lie about their numbers? What are the weapons for: to be used against Syria and Iran?

The “Dancing In The Streets” ad for Johnny Vaughn’s breakfast show. It smacks of desperation, with Vaughn dressing up as all the diferent “stereotypes” he imagines listen to him. But why would people make a conscious choice to listen to that stream of corporate messages, predictable competitions, one line news bulletins and unfunny jokes?

Everything was won by white people. The music business is institutionally racist. Forget Jamelia - Joss Stone was apparently the greatest female urban singer. Bollocks she was!
And the “breakthrough” bands nominated – I was listening to over a year ago. Franz Ferdinand, Scissor sisters, Zutons, and some others I knew about, but didn’t like, Keane, Libertines. In fact – there’s a marked similarity with the nominations on last year’s Brat awards.
Robbie Williams’ won song of all the Brits ever, ABOVE Joy Division’s …….
And as for that fuck spud who calls laughably calls himself The Streets...

I’ve been riding round with just a back brake the last couple of days – which is a bit hair-raising. So today I took the giant step of putting it into the repair shop. I don’t do my own repairs – I’m shit at that sort of thing. I’m getting the gears repaired too – think my cable is stretched.
My ride today took in the Sidcup bypass, the Kidbrooke Estate, Blackheath and Greenwich. All with a strong wind against me. The bike shop I use is on the Isle of dogs, it opens very convenient hours (8 to 7), is pretty cheap, and they seem to know their stuff, they’ve always done me a good job.
S is learning to knit – something she hasn’t done for years. I’ll try to photograph one of her efforts for this 'blog, if she lets me!
She’s at home today, looking after the sprog. Except that the sprog is fine now, running round the house teasing the cat, etc.
China Town is under threat apparently thanks to the high property prices. Robert Elms did an interesting piece about it this morning in the “Round Your Manor” article. We’ll being going there on Sunday to watch the New Year’s celebration, or at least the version they put on for the tourists.
Shoppers ran amok at the opening of a new IKEA store in London. apparently the people who lived nearby were desperate for the discounts being offered as the shop opened - and the ensuing crush injured a few, frightened many more. The store is shut until further notice and the discounts have been withdrawn.

I was sitting on the toilet this morning, having a crap, when on comes an announcement on BBC Radio Four: Charley’s going to marry Camilla. Oh for fucks sake, another sodding Royal Wedding. I hate it. I’ve endured too many already. Luckily I was in Andorra when he married Diana, so was able to escape, with my dad, into downtown Andorra La Veilla to eat cheese and drink wine. It didn’t stop everyone else in the hotel watching it in the lobby, including my mum and sister.
I've heard the date for the wedding now - it's going to be on April 8th.

AND I'M GOING TO BE IN SPAIN............ YAY!!

Noam Chomsky described this process recently in an interview pubished by Znet. It's what Reagan attempted in the 1980's, and this appalling policy has been revived by the Neo-cons running the White House 20 years later. Spend so much money that there is nothing left in the treasury for social policies or welfare.

The realities at home:
Bush budget seeks social spending cuts Poor to pay price of US deficit

The next project:
Iran attack 'not on US agenda

A convoy of Kurdish officials who took a wrong turn into a bad area of Baghdad were attacked, three were killed.
An interior military colonel called Riyadh Katei Illawi was kidnapped in Baghdad.
An Iraqi tv correspondent and his six year old son were shot dead. Abdul Hussein Khazaal worked for al-Hura TV - the US funded propaganda channel (Radio Free Iraq?) set up to challenge al-Jazeera.
A director in the Ministry of Culture and Housing was assassinated.
It appears that "insurgents" are getting good intelligence from their former colleagues still working in the security ministries of the interim government.
Iraqi police and soldiers are crying out for decent equipment and vehicles, but the US insist that all they need is yet more training.
Information gleaned from a Patrick Cockburn article in the independent.

It was the final episode today. I’ve really enjoyed this. It’s set in the 70s, with the kids going to a school very like the one I went to (1978 to 1985). It’s actually set from just before the Heath/ Wilson general election, up to about 1978. So it covers the generation who’d have been leaving High School just as I started in 1978.
I’ve got the whole lot on video, and now want to sit and watch the whole 3 hours from start to finish.

Another suicide attack - this one on an Iraqi national guard base at Muthana airfield in western Baghdad. 21 dead and another 27 people injured in the blast.
“Elsewhere in Iraq, at least five people, including three policemen, were killed. The attacks bring to more than 60 the number of Iraqis killed in the past two days.”
It doesn’t look as if elections have dampened the revolutionary spirit in Iraq.
The US military contradicted Iraqi officials who had claimed that the explosion was a mortar attack.
Also, “three policemen were killed in the violent western Baghdad suburb of Ghazaliyah. Gunmen fired on the car of a politician, Mithal al-Alusi, killing his two sons but leaving him untouched. It was the latest of several attempts on his life. Last year, Mr Alusi headed the De-Ba'athification Commission. He was sacked from the job after protests following a trip he made to Israel.”

“There was conflicting information about the fate of an Italian journalist who was kidnapped in Baghdad last Friday. One group which claimed to have taken Giuliana Sgrena, a reporter on the Communist daily Il Manifesto, said she would be released shortly because it had determined she was not a spy. Another group claimed it had killed her.”

The Hackney Empire isn’t very different from when I visited in 1989 to see John Martyn. But I still nearly missed it as we sped by on the bus. But it was night-time, and the theatre was difficult to see, until we were right on top of it.

The show started within minutes of us arriving, with Ada Barr, comedian Chris Green in drag, as a very elderly Music Hall star. She compered most of the show. It was a bit mediocre at first. There was a deaf woman whose act was to sign language to “Bohemian Rhapsody”. Shite! And a woman who wore a long black dress in the gothic style, and mimed to opera, while another woman, clad in her underwear, hung on to a ribbon attached to the ceiling, and two blokes came on and had some sort of contraption in their hands, that gave off sparks like an angle-grinder. Hmmmm.
Then there was a female sword swallower, one of only two in the world, she claimed.

And then came Rob Newman. Very political, with a bit of history too. I enjoyed him, but S didn’t so much. Mark Thomas was excellent, of course, and as he ended I rushed off to have a pee, but noticed how clear the bar was so decided to get a drink first. And then an interval was announced.

This fuckwitted girl barged into the side of me as I made my way to the – as yet – clear bar. Then she made some comment like “oh pushing are we” and laughed to make a joke of it – I didn’t apologise as it was she that pushed into me – from behind. Then another girl came in from behind and squeezed in on my left. She commented on the slowness of the bar staff – and then proceeded to get herself served before me. At that point I decided my bladder required more attention than my alcoholic needs – and realised I’d left S alone for same time – she might be wanting to pee too - so I dived into the toilet, and then went back to my seat.

Once the Blockheads were on stage I decided to take a chance at the bar. Again, I failed to attract the attention of the bar staff, and several people were able to walk straight up to the bar and get served while I was waiting. Then one bloke who was about to be served actually mentioned that I’d been there before him and I was able to order a half pint of Stella, which immediately ended up down my shirt and jeans as some wanker danced into me, shrugged, like it wasn’t his problem, and wandered off. I got served quickly after that and with another half pint, was able to get it safely back to my seat. Now I really was stinking of beer.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

I was back on the bike again today. I took the digital camera to photograph this rig that has appeared near Tower Bridge. I should be posting the pictures fairly soon.
It’s used to erect off-shore wind generators, apparently.
Then I took other pictures – and had people staring at me, and studying the object in front of my camera. Why?

“Two suicide bombers struck in Iraqi towns yesterday, claiming at least 27 lives, in a return to the grim familiarity of insurgency just a week after millions of Iraqis flocked to the polls. It was the most violent day since the January 30 elections."
“Yesterday's first bomber struck at the main police headquarters in Baquba, a mixed Shia and Sunni town 40 miles north of Baghdad. At least 15 people were killed and 17 injured. Witnesses said the bomber had tried to drive a car laden with explosives through the gate of the police station but instead hit a concrete blast wall and detonated near a crowd outside.
“In the second attack a man apparently wearing a vest of explosives walked into a crowd of police standing outside the Jumhuri hospital in the northern city of Mosul. At least 12 people were killed and four injured. The blast blew a crater into the ground.
"Four Egyptian telecoms engineers were kidnapped from their house in Baghdad on Sunday.
The Italian journalist Giuliana Sgrena, who was kidnapped in daylight on Friday at Baghdad University, was still missing. Two groups have claimed responsibility for her kidnap and both have threatened to kill her. Sgrena had been to interview refugees from the city of Falluja who are camped near a mosque inside the university."

After the doubts over who kidnapped Margaret Hassan, I can't help feeling concerned about the future of this journalist. If she is in the hands of a CIA black ops group, then I suspect that she's dead already.

Blair announced that strategy to withdraw troops from Iraq, based on replacing coalition troops with Iraqi security forces, or “Iraqi-isation”, was soon to be implemented. “General Luck's assessment, which was sent to the Pentagon last month, is believed to be the basis of an Anglo-American plan to gradually withdraw the 150,000 coalition troops in Iraq.”

And then we'll be able to turn our backs and forget the carnage?

There was an item on Newsnight last night; some researcher has come to the conclusion that Deep Throat, the unidentified whistle-blower in the Watergate case, was actually George H W Bush, GW's Dad.

It's something I considered just a few days ago. I'm of the opinion that its entirely plausible, but that there is little evidence either way. The journalist, Bob Woodward, isn't going to reveal his source until the source is dead. Will someone finish Bush off quickly, so we can find out?

S thought the name "Deep Throat" was quite rude. We'd seen a documentary about Linda Lovelace on Sunday night; she was known for a completely different sort of deep throat.

S and I going to a Tsunami fundraising cabaret at the Hackney Empire tonight. It looks like a load of circus acts, some 2nd rate comedians, a guitarist, and topping the bill, Rob Newman, Mark Thomas and the Blockheads.

http://www.stillmisbehaving.com/
http://www.circusperformers.com/acts/caroline/caro.htm
http://www.tinac.net/idabarr.html
BBC on TinaC
This is a man, playing female characters. The Ida Barr character is a former music hall star, refiving her career performing urban street sounds with a heavy leaning towards the concerns of pensioners. Tina C is trailer trash country singer. I saw Chris Green as Tina C in the comedy tent at Glasto last year. I think he was amusing, but I was tired, worn out and quite possibly not in my usual frame of mind.
http://www.circusperformers.com/acts/mos/mos.htm
not sure how entertaining this will be.
http://www.circusperformers.com/acts/stickle/stickle.htm
http://www.impactartists.co.uk/Great_Artists/incandesence.asp
http://www.celticguitar.com/jonhicks/
http://www.micaelita.net/robnewman/index.shtml

Iraq has disappeared from our television news. Why? Are we supposed to believe that everything is hunky dory over there now?
By the way - there are much more interesting Blogs out there - try this, by someone in Iraq:
http://riverbendblog.blogspot.com/

PAFC's position in the Championship is looking increasingly shakey:
PAFCnews
But at last - they've managed to win a point.

S and I have agreed terms and the great Fat Club battle is on. I'm worried though - as even though I've managed to get down to 17 stone 2 lb, S has dropped to a stone less than she thought she was. I don't think I can compete.
Fatty new year

We went to see Ukulele Orchestra of GB on Saturday, at Shoreditch Town Hall; I loved their version of Nirvana's Teen Spirit - excellent.
http://www.ukuleleorchestra.com/

Well they were supposed to be supported by "Vince Vincent and the Villains", but I suspect we didn't see them at all. Instead we saw a bloke on Ukulele and another on a clarinet performing stuff that even John Peel would have thought twice about playing, I reckon. The Easy Surrealists, Country Teasers

Before the gig S and I sauntered off to Brick Lane to have a curry. Apart from the egg curry it was more than acceptable, quite tasty in fact.
Upon arriving back at the Town Hall we claimed our free champagne and managed to grab a table close to the bar. Then we sat and bitched about everyone around us. We noted the large number of 70s fashions being worn, and in particular a bloke who had hair and sidies just like my Dad did in 1976.
Shoreditch
On the way there we saw what must have a hundred or more coppers trying to control a mob of what could only be described as chavs, at London Bridge. At first I thought I thought it was something to do with the Millwall match up the road, but then I noticed that none of the chavs were wearing football colours, only the chav uniform of trainers and baseball cap.

Spoke to K on Sunday and have booked date to visit his new house in Spain, looking forward to it.

S. came back from her night out and complained about smelly sci fi geeks (like the comic shop owner in The Simpsons I assume) and exploitative directors. Cube 3 was shite, and only served as a showcase for the dubious talents of those concerned.

I'm glad I didn't go.

I've had a quiet evening at home. Daughter is ill and went to bed early, and I watched T.V.

The prime minister of Georgia was found dead, bizarrely, due to gas poisoning from a heater that had only just been fitted. He had been in a dispute with the president, but this was denied by a spokesman on Radio 4 though.
The following is an edited Guardian report:

Zurab Zhvania, a friend, Raul Usupov, the deputy governor of the Kvemo-Kartli region was found dead in an apartment in Tbilisi.
"Preliminary information indicates there was a leakage of household gas from an Iranian-made heater installed in the apartment," and high levels of carbon monoxide were found in the flat. Zhvania played an important role in the "rose revolution" in November 2003 that ousted the former Soviet stalwart Eduard Shevardnadze as president and led to the pro-American presidency of Mikhail Saakashvili.
The premier was considered by some as a moderate within the administration, spearheading a crackdown on crime and corruption, and negotiating settlements with two of the republic's breakaway regions, Abkhazia and South Ossetia. A former parliamentary speaker, he is survived by a wife and three children.
A criminal investigation and autopsy were under way as a matter of routine, but that biochemical analysis had already indicated carbon monoxide poisoning.
The prosecutor general, Zurab Adeishvili, said the American FBI would also test Mr
Zhvania's blood. More than 40 such accidents have been reported in the former
Soviet republic in the past two years.
One Georgian MP said Russia was behind the poisoning.

I wish it was as easy to get rid of our PM!
But it does seem that in its attempt to stitch togther a new federation of ex-soviet states the Russians are pulling out every stop with regard to dastardly and sneaky tricks. Just look at Ukrainia for a recent example. It's also true to say that our press is failing to make the connections here. No doubt the USA has its evil tentacles winding through these regions too; a reason why the Russian government need to resort to such tactics, reminiscent of the worst excesses of the Cold War.

I weigh 17 stone 4 pound now – that’ a drop of two pounds. S wants to make a bet about who can lose the most weight by June. It’ll be her of course, I’m intending to sustain about 2 pounds a week loss every week, no more.
Bought a copy of “Right Ho! Jeeves” by PG Wodhouse so I can go to the Urban 75 book group meeting on the 17th.
Also reading ‘Stasiland’ by Anne Funder – borrowed from S. It includes true life accounts by people who lived in East Germany, mainly in relation to their experiences with the secret police.

I was highly amused by something that Brian Eno said on Radio 4 today, talking to Alan Moore; he said when he talked to David Bowie they usually took on the Pete and Dud characters. “We could be Heroes, Dud”, “just for a day”.

This bit is on construction - information entered as and when I come across it.

The main news here was all about how orderly the elections were, with people praising Allah that they've been allowed to vote. It wasn;t till later in the day that the more indepth news for "clever" people voiced doubts about just how fair or valid these elections in war-torn and occupied Iraq could be.

There was a poor turnout among Sunnis in one of the main Sunni-dominated provinces, Salahuddin, which includes Saddam Hussein's home town of Tikrit.

Election officials admitted that at least 15,000 people had been unable to vote around Mosul because of violence and a shortage of ballot papers.

Critical Mass!! Haven’t done this for ages. The last one I went on was probably in 2000, when I met up with Sheila at the pub afterwards.

(futurenote: This was to be the last time I was to go on CM with both S and K.)

I took a day off work to clear out our garage. It took me a couple of hours just to make a clear walkway through to the back of the garage. We've jammed it up with so much stuff over the years: a bed, cabinets, old bikes, armchairs, tools, a washing machine, etc.
There was a carpet of leaves to clear out, a load of stuff that our daughter had dumped in there over the past year which had to be sorted bagged or thrown out, and gooey stuff all over the washing machine. I had to keep washing my hands while cleaning it.

And today we went back to Borough Market. This time we spent quite a bit more money – vege, mutton, sausages, bacon, bread, catnip.

Joined Star Video on the way home, and got “Hypercube” out. It was odd that the first "Cube" finished unresolved, as if it would be picked up in a sequel, because the sequel started with an entirely new set of characters, and a new cube. It was alright, a bit too much CGI for my liking, but at least it ended properly. It turns out that the Cube is a military project, exists in multiple dimensions, and is a computer construct. S will be seeing the third Cube on Feb 4th.

I’ve weighed myself. It’s necessary if this diet is going to work. I’m 17 stone 6 pounds. Not as bad I feared. I’ve probably lost about half a stone already from the not-drinking and cycling.

Went to Borough market with S. Got there about an hour before it was shutting, but had time to buy bread, mushrooms, dates and some proper northern black pudding. Lovely!

Only started cycling again this week. Still feeling weak.

I’ve been ill. I finally caught this coughing illness that S had before xmas. It makes you feel weak. I went on anti-biotics. S made me drink this yogurt with vile “friendly” bacteria in it. Something that you should do after taking anti Bs apparently.

S has given everything up for the new year: alcohol, smoking, and crap food. I’ve decided to quit drinking for the time being, and go on a low-calorie diet. I’m probably fatter now than I ever was.
We drove back from Norfolk (the M in Law’s place) yesterday afternoon. I wanted to come down during daytime as I can’t stand those late night drives.

Subject: TheNew Year
Time: 11:22:07 o'clock GMT
Author: steveslondon
Survived xmas - it wasn't too bad. I can't stand that shopping frenzy everyone enters into in the last 2 or 3 days. Barging shoppers snatching at anything that might save them from having to face their rellies without a present.

The Tsunami in the Indian Ocean was shocking, although I know only one person who's in the region, and he's hardly a close friend. At the moment it appears over 100,000 are dead, with the total rising daily. Quite likely it'll turn out to be the worst natural disaster in the last century.

Monday, July 25, 2005

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Tuesday, June 28, 2005

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Friday, April 15, 2005

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