If you were following this blog back in 2014/5 I may have seemed to disappear. Well, in a way I did. We had brought my dad back to the UK because he wasn't feeding himself and then we moved home, only five miles away, but the changes in our lives meant I put the thoughts of blogging away.
In the time since we last met, I have begun a course at my church, the Catholic Certificate in Religious Studies, it's thought provoking and I am learning more about my religion than I ever knew! Also, my dad had a stroke!
The "Awesome Turtle" moniker should pass to my Granddaughter, eight years old and autistic, she reacted marvellously when she found him on the floor in his bedroom the morning after his 87th birthday. The only drawback, she's not a Turtle.
We've had a referendum to show that 51.8% of the country either didn't want to be part of the EU or believed the lies, half-truths and scaremongering that the Leave Campaign spouted. We've had the Prime Minister resign and, the new PM, who said when Tony Blair resigned that there should be an election, go back on that thought.
At the time of writing this, we have a challenge to the leadership of the Labour Party, and now the front runner in the challenge has stepped down, what next? Watch this space, or one near here!
Wednesday, 20 July 2016
Sunday, 11 January 2015
Je Suis Charlie!
The events in Paris and the North-Central part of France this week have made me think more about humanity.
Any god that calls for the death of any human being, unless that human has committed a crime that society says they should lose their life, cannot be called a good God. Shakespeare provides two quotations that show the unity of the human race, in my opinion.
"A rose, by any other name would smell as sweet" - God, by any other name is still God.
"Prick us, do we not bleed" - Aren't we the same as you?
It matters not, whether you are Asian, Caucasian, Negroid or Arab, if you need a doctor to save your life, or the life of one you hold dear, what race or creed the doctor is. It matters as little to the doctor, they will follow your wishes for treatment, even if it conflicts with their beliefs.
Put a Muslim child of under 5 in a room with a Christian or Jewish child of the same age, even if their parents do not speak the same language, they will play together. Alright, it may have a little bit of disagreement along the way, but they will play.
What is it that changes? Why do some people think that to take lives in the name of their God is acceptable? Why do these people not realise that some of the rules handed down to them by their ancestors may have been OK at the time of writing, but today they are not.
What I mean is, along the lines of "Do not let a witch live" in the Old Testament of the Bible. Did the people of the time when those words were written mean that every female that turns on a TV set by using a remote control should be killed? No, we should follow the laws laid down by our ancestors to a point, that point is when we realise that it has been outmoded by technology or society.
In Afghanistan, the Taliban have decreed that females cannot learn. Do they realise that the first person to teach any person is female? Unless she died in childbirth, the first person to teach children is their mother. If a mother is fit to teach, surely she is allowed to learn?
Isaac Asimov, the science-fiction writer, once formulated "The Three Laws of Robotics" as a tool to introduce a dilemma into a story. These three laws have been debated by philosophers and scientists alike and have generally been accepted for use in real robots if they ever get advanced enough. I believe these laws can be re-written to become the "Three Laws of Humanity"
My version is the one on the right, obviously. With these laws, stealing, killing and any of the other crimes that society has committed against it are dealt with. The second law will stop generals sending their troops into battle, while the third allows them to be used in defence.
I can only hope that those most in need of realising their ways are hurting them more than the rest of us read this blog. I hope they realise that the actions of a few have hardened the hearts of the rest of society against them, instead of making a statement for Islam, they have made a statement against those radical elements within Islam.
Please note, peaceful Muslims, such as officer Ahmed Merabet, slain by the attackers of the Charlie Hebdo offices are against the actions of the extremists. The majority of Muslims want no part of these acts of terrorism and so, I encourage any readers of this to remember that these people are NOT the terrorists and take no action against them.
The time has come to make peace, for after all, everyone who has typed #JeSuisCharlie or it's equivalent this week wants nothing but friendship and peace.
Please change. Give Peace a Chance!
In the wake of the shootings at the offices of Charlie Hebdo, including a Muslim police officer, the world was united, hashtags and signs of "Je Suis Charlie" in virtually every language. The way it spread, was similar to the cry in the film "Spartacus", when the slaves are captured near the end of the film, a Roman officer asks "Which of you is the slave called Spartacus?" Before Spartacus gets a chance to reply, first one, then another and another shouts "I am Spartacus."
So, along with so many others in the world, I shout out:
The sight on the news of people in silent accord at vigils across the world silently raising their hand holding a pen, a pencil or a paintbrush must have engraved itself on every person that saw the coverage.
I do not profess to know the Qu'ran in any way, shape or form. I do not profess to know the Bible as well as some others. I do know that I believe in my heart that one thing is true, and it is the one thing that Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Shintos and any other religion in this world should agree on. There is only ONE God, it matters not whether you call him/her Allah, God, or any other name.
Any god that calls for the death of any human being, unless that human has committed a crime that society says they should lose their life, cannot be called a good God. Shakespeare provides two quotations that show the unity of the human race, in my opinion.
"A rose, by any other name would smell as sweet" - God, by any other name is still God.
"Prick us, do we not bleed" - Aren't we the same as you?
It matters not, whether you are Asian, Caucasian, Negroid or Arab, if you need a doctor to save your life, or the life of one you hold dear, what race or creed the doctor is. It matters as little to the doctor, they will follow your wishes for treatment, even if it conflicts with their beliefs.
Put a Muslim child of under 5 in a room with a Christian or Jewish child of the same age, even if their parents do not speak the same language, they will play together. Alright, it may have a little bit of disagreement along the way, but they will play.
What is it that changes? Why do some people think that to take lives in the name of their God is acceptable? Why do these people not realise that some of the rules handed down to them by their ancestors may have been OK at the time of writing, but today they are not.
What I mean is, along the lines of "Do not let a witch live" in the Old Testament of the Bible. Did the people of the time when those words were written mean that every female that turns on a TV set by using a remote control should be killed? No, we should follow the laws laid down by our ancestors to a point, that point is when we realise that it has been outmoded by technology or society.
In Afghanistan, the Taliban have decreed that females cannot learn. Do they realise that the first person to teach any person is female? Unless she died in childbirth, the first person to teach children is their mother. If a mother is fit to teach, surely she is allowed to learn?
Isaac Asimov, the science-fiction writer, once formulated "The Three Laws of Robotics" as a tool to introduce a dilemma into a story. These three laws have been debated by philosophers and scientists alike and have generally been accepted for use in real robots if they ever get advanced enough. I believe these laws can be re-written to become the "Three Laws of Humanity"
|
1.
|
A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction,
allow a human being to come to harm.
|
A human may not injure a human being or, through inaction,
allow a human being to come to harm.
|
|
2.
|
A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings, except
where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
|
A human must obey the orders given it by other humans, except
where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
|
|
3.
|
A robot must protect its own existence as long as such
protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
|
A human must protect its own existence as long as such
protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
|
My version is the one on the right, obviously. With these laws, stealing, killing and any of the other crimes that society has committed against it are dealt with. The second law will stop generals sending their troops into battle, while the third allows them to be used in defence.
I can only hope that those most in need of realising their ways are hurting them more than the rest of us read this blog. I hope they realise that the actions of a few have hardened the hearts of the rest of society against them, instead of making a statement for Islam, they have made a statement against those radical elements within Islam.
Please note, peaceful Muslims, such as officer Ahmed Merabet, slain by the attackers of the Charlie Hebdo offices are against the actions of the extremists. The majority of Muslims want no part of these acts of terrorism and so, I encourage any readers of this to remember that these people are NOT the terrorists and take no action against them.
The time has come to make peace, for after all, everyone who has typed #JeSuisCharlie or it's equivalent this week wants nothing but friendship and peace.
Please change. Give Peace a Chance!
Friday, 17 October 2014
Disability goes the wrong way!
Before you get confused by the title, I emphasise here, that it is semi-sarcastic and I ask you to consider the ways that it can be read!
Now, what am I going on about today? This Guardian article. Basically, a blind lady was challenged for bringing a guide dog into a Tesco store.
So, let us look at the elements:
A visually challenged lady,
A dog in a harness and
A mature student.
Oh, hang on, should that read:
A visually challenged lady,
A dog in a harness and
A mature student who is registered as blind!
We, in this country, are not necessarily taught the fact that a dog wearing a harness with a metal handle is helping the person attached to it. Although, somehow, we all learn it.
The image is enough, we don't need the new(ish) style lead with the words "GUIDE DOG" on a bright yellow flag! This is a Guide Dog, this dog will be attached to a person with extremely poor or no sight. This is NOT a pet, this is NOT a family dog, this is a WORKING dog, this is a dog that will not do something to endanger the health of other shoppers.
Tesco's insulting voucher is not enough. Tesco's management should grab the cashier by the scruff of the neck, frog-marched to Ms Makri's front door and made to get down on her knees and give an apology that includes her resignation.
I wonder where this (hopefully former) cashier is from. Obviously a country where the blind are hidden from view, where disabled are kept in institutions, a country where the disabled are not acknowledged.
Or, is this cashier actually visually impaired, and as such is she able to perform her duties? Is the disability held by the one behind the counter, not in front? Is discrimination of the disabled not a disability in itself? After all, the discriminator is not able to see that the person is human? They have the disability!
Now, what am I going on about today? This Guardian article. Basically, a blind lady was challenged for bringing a guide dog into a Tesco store.
So, let us look at the elements:
A visually challenged lady,
A dog in a harness and
A mature student.
Oh, hang on, should that read:
A visually challenged lady,
A dog in a harness and
A mature student who is registered as blind!
We, in this country, are not necessarily taught the fact that a dog wearing a harness with a metal handle is helping the person attached to it. Although, somehow, we all learn it.
The image is enough, we don't need the new(ish) style lead with the words "GUIDE DOG" on a bright yellow flag! This is a Guide Dog, this dog will be attached to a person with extremely poor or no sight. This is NOT a pet, this is NOT a family dog, this is a WORKING dog, this is a dog that will not do something to endanger the health of other shoppers.
Tesco's insulting voucher is not enough. Tesco's management should grab the cashier by the scruff of the neck, frog-marched to Ms Makri's front door and made to get down on her knees and give an apology that includes her resignation.
I wonder where this (hopefully former) cashier is from. Obviously a country where the blind are hidden from view, where disabled are kept in institutions, a country where the disabled are not acknowledged.
Or, is this cashier actually visually impaired, and as such is she able to perform her duties? Is the disability held by the one behind the counter, not in front? Is discrimination of the disabled not a disability in itself? After all, the discriminator is not able to see that the person is human? They have the disability!
Wednesday, 10 September 2014
30 Things About My Invisible Illness You May Not Know
Some prominent bloggers were asked to participate in this simple blog post meme to help spread awareness during Invisible Awareness Week (September 11-18th)
I'm not one of these prominent people, however, I think it is important to share these as there is still so much even my closest friends and family do not know.
1. The illness I live with is: Osteoarthritis. OK lots of people have OA, and it affects one or two joints, mine is spreading. For those that don't know, OA is a condition that affects your joints. The surfaces within your joints become damaged so the joint doesn't move as smoothly as it should. This causes pain, in some cases, like mine, the pain is constant.
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: I was diagnosed in 1994, I think, after a motorcycle accident had started my right knee aching.
3. But I had symptoms since: I can't really remember when symptoms started. I was often tired, or had aches and pains etc which at the time I did not know were symptoms.
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: learning to adjust to my limits and having to help others less as I have to take care of myself.
5. Most people assume: that I am a happy, upbeat person because that's how I always was. When my knee first dislocated in 1980, I emptied a half hour bottle of Entonox (NO2) in 12 minutes! In the half hour to get to the hospital, I emptied two more. But I was joking all the time.
I try to look at the funny side to avoid looking at the down side, but, remember the song "Tears of a Clown"?
6. The hardest part about mornings are: simply getting moving at first. I am achy and very tired, as I normally don't get to sleep until 2/3 a.m. It would be easy to just go back to bed, but normally the wife wants me to pick her up or take her somewhere.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: House of course! I just wish there were doctors like him and his team in the UK to sort people out!
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: It's a toss-up between my battery operated can opener or the laptop. The can opener means I can get at food, the laptop, allows me to order groceries for delivery, but also keep in touch with family and friends.
9. The hardest part about nights are: The excruciating agony in my knees keeping me awake, to such an extent that pain killers don't touch it. The fact that the late nights in pain, in tears, means that my body then needs longer in the morning to wake up and the fact that people think, oh, if you're going to sleep so much later, go to sleep earlier!
10. Each day I take 15 pills & but no vitamins as yet. (No comments, please)
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: I know homeopathy works, I've seen it with my children and teething stuff my ex-father-in-law (a homeopathist) gave us for them. I would love to find something that helps with the muscle spasms, the pain, the weakness.
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: I would really like to be able to choose a third option - neither! The invisible illnesses and disabilities in the world need more understanding from those around us. Compassion is easy for people when they see someone with an amputated or deformed limb, but when the problems are hidden, understanding of the problem is difficult.
13. Regarding working and career: I wish! I had the awful "turn down" at a few job interviews in the past of "You are a fire risk! We can't have you work for you because if there was a fire, we couldn't risk you falling down the stairs and blocking them!"
14. People would be surprised to know: That I often wish I could curl up in a corner and let the rest of the world go to heck. I often feel like I want to give up, but I have three gorgeous grand-daughters that I can't let down.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: The lack of energy. The constant pain tires you out, so you need to pace yourself through the day. You have to use trains to travel to places that used to be a car drive away.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: That's the problem, Osteoarthritis is not a young person's illness, so older people have it, not me! I don't know anything that I'm not supposed to be able to do.
17. The commercials about my illness: There are no commercials for Osteoarthritis, it is still a very misunderstood illness (by most people). The journey of awareness has begun but there is a long way to go for a cure.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Hiking across our local Country Park, bird watching and enjoying nature.
19. It was really hard to have to give up: My independent nature, if I fall, if I can't stand up, the need for help to get up.
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: There isn't anything really, I would like to try several ideas, but they all need fine motor skills with the fingers and I'm losing that.
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Take my grand-daughters out across the "Firehills" between Hastings and Rye, showing them all the hidden things, both flora and fauna.
22. My illness has taught me: People prefer things they can see, even if they still don't understand them. Jonny Peacock is accepted as he has no feet, Tony Turtle is OK because he has all his bits!
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: "You don't know what real pain is!" Sorry? 24/7/365! I know what pain is!
24. But I love it when people: When people put their arm about me, even though it hurts and says, "I wish I could take the pain away" (even better when the name "Gumpy", my grand-daughter's name for me, is included)
25. My favourite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: It is tough, it may get worse, but the people that love you will be shown up by staying with you.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: The fact that people don't seem to care if they can't see something wrong.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: Having my daughter who has ME (CFS) get dressed, put the kids in the car and brought them to visit.
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: The world needs to realise that it's not just the people with Invisible Illnesses that realise there is such a thing as Invisible Illness.
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Hopeful that more people will understand about Invisible Illness.
For more in my blog about all sorts of stuff: http://aturtle05.blogspot.com/2014/09/30-things-about-my-invisible-illness.html
For more in my blog about all sorts of stuff: http://aturtle05.blogspot.com/2014/09/30-things-about-my-invisible-illness.html
Monday, 25 August 2014
Why I do NOT support the Ice Bucket Challenge!
Earlier today, the Ice Bucket Challenge got close to home, my wife got challenged. She can't understand my point of view, that I cannot see why people are not donating to charity.
For those that don't know, where have you been, but the challenge is, you have 24 hours to donate to charity or pay a forfeit of getting a bucketful of cold water poured over your head. I have since been told that some feel you get to pay one amount if you do the challenge but a greater amount if you refuse. So I felt compelled to post on facebook:
#IceBucketChallenge for any wishing to challenge me, I thought I had better list some of the charities my wife and I have already donated to this year from the small amount of money we have:
As I said in the title of this piece, I do NOT support the Ice Bucket Challenge, not because it's so successful, but because the charities have not suggested a set of guidelines as to how the challenges should be made. I would like to call on the ALSA to add a set of guidelines to their page. I would like people to point out in a better way (a sign in the video of them getting doused saying I paid £xx, €xx or $xx to challenge A__ B___) as not everyone has the volume on when watching videos on facebook.
I would like to call on a website designer to work out a way that for a charitable donation an email is sent to the challengee who then has 24 hours to challenge someone else. Hang on, that sounds like a chain letter in a way. Still, if that is what it takes...
So far I have seen 3 videos of people hurt doing these challenges (hopefully not seriously), I have heard that one person died after completing the challenge. How much is the death or paralysation of even one person worth?
I have the right to privacy, if I want to donate to charity, that is my right, as is the right to not force that choice on others. Don't call me a "miserable sod" because of my beliefs, don't think I do not wish to give more to charity, because I do and it upsets me that I haven't got enough income to do so.
For those that don't know, where have you been, but the challenge is, you have 24 hours to donate to charity or pay a forfeit of getting a bucketful of cold water poured over your head. I have since been told that some feel you get to pay one amount if you do the challenge but a greater amount if you refuse. So I felt compelled to post on facebook:
#IceBucketChallenge for any wishing to challenge me, I thought I had better list some of the charities my wife and I have already donated to this year from the small amount of money we have:
http://www.macmillan.org.uk/Donate/
https://www.facebook.com/impact.charity.1
http://www.rspb.org.uk/search/index.aspx?q=
http://www.arthritisresearchuk.org/donate
http://www.meresearch.org.uk/support-us/online-donation/
https://www.dogstrust.org.uk/giving/donations/makeadonation/#.U_tIMPldWSo
http://www.britishlegion.org.uk/get-involved/how-to-give
https://www.facebook.com/impact.charity.1
http://www.rspb.org.uk/search/index.aspx?q=
http://www.arthritisresearchuk.org/donate
http://www.meresearch.org.uk/support-us/online-donation/
https://www.dogstrust.org.uk/giving/donations/makeadonation/#.U_tIMPldWSo
http://www.britishlegion.org.uk/get-involved/how-to-give
This list is not exhaustive, but if it is still insufficient for any of you then I will not empty a bucket of water over my head. I donate, I do not need to be TOLD to donate, I care about both people and animals. I would have preferred to keep my charity to myself, but it seems this is necessary.
If you don't like it - go stick your head in a bucket of water!
Better still, stick your hand in your pocket and donate to those who need your help.
So, I got told off for being boring, so I started looking for the "rules" of this challenge and the only place that came up with them was Wikipedia! I then posted this in reply on facebook:
I just don't like the way it seems to be giving people a way out and they are all taking it! It seems to me it's pay up or get drenched, and everyone seems to be getting wet.
You cannot demand that people donate to charity, it has to be a conscious choice. Yes, it may have raised a bit of awareness, but there are other ways.
If I want to advertise my charitable donation, look at the front of my car (there's a plastic poppy), on the lapel of the jacket I will be wearing on 3 September (there's an enamel poppy badge), or my coat/jumper in October/November (I'll be wearing a paper poppy), and I won't be removing the large one until Tuesday the 11th of November.
Looking at the Wikipedia page about this challenge, as I couldn't find any authorised rules of the challenge, "A common stipulation is that nominated people have 24 hours to comply or forfeit by way of a charitable financial donation"
So, to my mind, there is no donating, just dunking!
If the ALS society in the USA had listed the rules and stated "Donate to nominate then donate when you're dunked, or donate and don't get dunked" I would have no problem. The challenge seems to be pay up or get dunked! So, how is this raising money?
I am not anti-charity, as my first facebook post shows, I am not anti-ALS (apart from I would like to see it gone), I am just anti this challenge thing.
People have not stopped caring, but people have become complacent about charity in a time when charity is more important than ever. I would encourage people to give as much as possible, I know money is tight, your choice is as important as to who you give the money to, or which foodbank you want to donate some of your shopping to. Give, give,give!!!!
You cannot demand that people donate to charity, it has to be a conscious choice. Yes, it may have raised a bit of awareness, but there are other ways.
If I want to advertise my charitable donation, look at the front of my car (there's a plastic poppy), on the lapel of the jacket I will be wearing on 3 September (there's an enamel poppy badge), or my coat/jumper in October/November (I'll be wearing a paper poppy), and I won't be removing the large one until Tuesday the 11th of November.
Looking at the Wikipedia page about this challenge, as I couldn't find any authorised rules of the challenge, "A common stipulation is that nominated people have 24 hours to comply or forfeit by way of a charitable financial donation"
So, to my mind, there is no donating, just dunking!
If the ALS society in the USA had listed the rules and stated "Donate to nominate then donate when you're dunked, or donate and don't get dunked" I would have no problem. The challenge seems to be pay up or get dunked! So, how is this raising money?
I am not anti-charity, as my first facebook post shows, I am not anti-ALS (apart from I would like to see it gone), I am just anti this challenge thing.
People have not stopped caring, but people have become complacent about charity in a time when charity is more important than ever. I would encourage people to give as much as possible, I know money is tight, your choice is as important as to who you give the money to, or which foodbank you want to donate some of your shopping to. Give, give,give!!!!
As I said in the title of this piece, I do NOT support the Ice Bucket Challenge, not because it's so successful, but because the charities have not suggested a set of guidelines as to how the challenges should be made. I would like to call on the ALSA to add a set of guidelines to their page. I would like people to point out in a better way (a sign in the video of them getting doused saying I paid £xx, €xx or $xx to challenge A__ B___) as not everyone has the volume on when watching videos on facebook.
I would like to call on a website designer to work out a way that for a charitable donation an email is sent to the challengee who then has 24 hours to challenge someone else. Hang on, that sounds like a chain letter in a way. Still, if that is what it takes...
So far I have seen 3 videos of people hurt doing these challenges (hopefully not seriously), I have heard that one person died after completing the challenge. How much is the death or paralysation of even one person worth?
I have the right to privacy, if I want to donate to charity, that is my right, as is the right to not force that choice on others. Don't call me a "miserable sod" because of my beliefs, don't think I do not wish to give more to charity, because I do and it upsets me that I haven't got enough income to do so.
So, please, if you have any spare money, search your heart, think of things that affect you and your family, find the relevant society and give your spare cash to them!
Thursday, 31 July 2014
Diary of a Benefit Scrounger: Confirmed - The FULL Impact of Cuts Disabled Peopl...
I have never re-posted a fellow blogger's posting, but this has to reach the BIGGEST audience possible.
Lord Freud (carefully typed to avoid a Freudian slip) and Iain Duncan Smith have been caught (may I add, again) in a lie. This time, the biggest lie of the Con-Dem Coalition, the one they have been fighting all along.
Read it, share it, let them fight the truth!
Diary of a Benefit Scrounger: Confirmed - The FULL Impact of Cuts Disabled Peopl...: Since the coalition came to power, sick and disabled people have claimed we are being fundamentally harmed by the coalition welfare refor...
Lord Freud (carefully typed to avoid a Freudian slip) and Iain Duncan Smith have been caught (may I add, again) in a lie. This time, the biggest lie of the Con-Dem Coalition, the one they have been fighting all along.
Read it, share it, let them fight the truth!
Diary of a Benefit Scrounger: Confirmed - The FULL Impact of Cuts Disabled Peopl...: Since the coalition came to power, sick and disabled people have claimed we are being fundamentally harmed by the coalition welfare refor...
Tuesday, 1 July 2014
Taking over quietly.
I can't remember if I've mentioned this before, but if I have, I apologise, still, here goes.
From my point of view, this reared it's ugly head about ten years ago when coming back into the country via Gatwick airport.
Picture the scene: it's about four o'clock in the morning and my wife and I have been up all day and night, it was a late night flight to save money and thanks to a delay. So, we have about two hours before a train arrives to take us home, so I think "Coffee time"!
I toddled over to the coffee bar (who I won't mention as this is the only problem I have had with them), and through my sleep filled brain, I asked the "barista" for two white coffees. Remember, this is in the days when you asked for a white coffee and got served with the establishments version of coffee with milk.
"Er, we don't do white coffee, only Americano, Latte or Cappucino", says the girl behind the bar.
"It's four a.m., I just want two cups of white coffee!"
"We don't do white coffee, only Americano, Latte or Cappucino", says the brain of Britain.
"Listen, in France, I'd ask for Café au Lait, in Spain, Café con Leche, in England I ask for a White Coffee or Coffee with milk! Two, please!"
"We don't do white coffee, only Americano, Latte or Cappucino", says her again.
I gave up, scanned the menu board and requested, "Oh, heck, two hot chocolates please!"
So the young mademoiselle turns to her colleague "Two hot chocolates"
While waiting, my eyes alighted on the cake display - "May I have two almond slices as well please?"
"Those have got nuts in them, you know"
"Yeah, I think the idea's in the title, dear", she pulled two almond slices out of the display and then her colleague passes the hot chocolates over.
"Do you want chocolate on those?" says the young lady, holding a shaker of chocolate.
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you want chocolate on those?"
"Listen, sweetheart," says I, sympathetically, "there's chocolate in the cup, if there isn't enough chocolate in the cup why would I want more?"
So she capped the cups, took my money and I went back to my wife.
So, the point - it's not that some people are less intelligent than required, it's the principle of going to a coffee shop in England and having to ask for my coffee in a foreign language! As I said to the young lady so long ago, if I'm abroad, I'll ask for coffee in the local language.
We're losing our identity.
But it's the thin edge of the wedge.
Look at the Ciabbata or Panini that you are going to eat with the coffee, even though I am the first to agree that it's the bread style that goes with those that names them. But the coffee, a white coffee, not Latte or Espresso or Americano or Cappucino is what I want.
From my point of view, this reared it's ugly head about ten years ago when coming back into the country via Gatwick airport.
Picture the scene: it's about four o'clock in the morning and my wife and I have been up all day and night, it was a late night flight to save money and thanks to a delay. So, we have about two hours before a train arrives to take us home, so I think "Coffee time"!
I toddled over to the coffee bar (who I won't mention as this is the only problem I have had with them), and through my sleep filled brain, I asked the "barista" for two white coffees. Remember, this is in the days when you asked for a white coffee and got served with the establishments version of coffee with milk.
"Er, we don't do white coffee, only Americano, Latte or Cappucino", says the girl behind the bar.
"It's four a.m., I just want two cups of white coffee!"
"We don't do white coffee, only Americano, Latte or Cappucino", says the brain of Britain.
"Listen, in France, I'd ask for Café au Lait, in Spain, Café con Leche, in England I ask for a White Coffee or Coffee with milk! Two, please!"
"We don't do white coffee, only Americano, Latte or Cappucino", says her again.
I gave up, scanned the menu board and requested, "Oh, heck, two hot chocolates please!"
So the young mademoiselle turns to her colleague "Two hot chocolates"
While waiting, my eyes alighted on the cake display - "May I have two almond slices as well please?"
"Those have got nuts in them, you know"
"Yeah, I think the idea's in the title, dear", she pulled two almond slices out of the display and then her colleague passes the hot chocolates over.
"Do you want chocolate on those?" says the young lady, holding a shaker of chocolate.
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you want chocolate on those?"
"Listen, sweetheart," says I, sympathetically, "there's chocolate in the cup, if there isn't enough chocolate in the cup why would I want more?"
So she capped the cups, took my money and I went back to my wife.
So, the point - it's not that some people are less intelligent than required, it's the principle of going to a coffee shop in England and having to ask for my coffee in a foreign language! As I said to the young lady so long ago, if I'm abroad, I'll ask for coffee in the local language.
We're losing our identity.
But it's the thin edge of the wedge.
Look at the Ciabbata or Panini that you are going to eat with the coffee, even though I am the first to agree that it's the bread style that goes with those that names them. But the coffee, a white coffee, not Latte or Espresso or Americano or Cappucino is what I want.
Thursday, 12 June 2014
Please Burn The England Flags!
I will freely admit I am a patriot, I love my country, I respect the monarchy and I respect the flags.
The title of this blog is not asking everyone to grab their nearest cross of St George and set fire to it, but to set light to the tautological flags. Those that have the word England across the middle of it. We all know that the N in PIN stands for the word number, and should not call it a PIN number as that would be a Personal Identification Number number.
The red cross on the white background already says "England", so why write the word across the middle of the flag? We are the only country that does it, I have never seen "USA" written across the Stars and Stripes or "France" across the French Tricolore.
Why?
Is it that our country is so apathetic about teaching our population about the flags that represent us? Thanks to Doctor Who we were all reminded that the flag that represents the United Kingdom is the Union Flag, when not on a ship. Why do we not teach our children the flags of foreign nations and our own.neighbouring nations? As a child I was taught the evolution of the Union Flag, the four flags of England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales (For the Welsh dragon, look in the middle of the Union Flag). I was taught a few of the neighbouring countries, the red, white and blue vertical stripes of France; the horizontal arrangement of the same colours said "Netherlands"; red, yellow and red of Spain and so on. Does this happen in schools today?
The flag is the descendant of the coat of arms of the lord of an area and then the arms of the king. For when the king was not on the field something was needed to give the troops to follow. So all the troops knew that they were fighting for the right side, they had to know their flag.
So again, I say burn all the England England flags. If you want to look stupid, fly them on your car or in your window but my recommendation is that you burn them!
The title of this blog is not asking everyone to grab their nearest cross of St George and set fire to it, but to set light to the tautological flags. Those that have the word England across the middle of it. We all know that the N in PIN stands for the word number, and should not call it a PIN number as that would be a Personal Identification Number number.
Why?
Is it that our country is so apathetic about teaching our population about the flags that represent us? Thanks to Doctor Who we were all reminded that the flag that represents the United Kingdom is the Union Flag, when not on a ship. Why do we not teach our children the flags of foreign nations and our own.neighbouring nations? As a child I was taught the evolution of the Union Flag, the four flags of England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales (For the Welsh dragon, look in the middle of the Union Flag). I was taught a few of the neighbouring countries, the red, white and blue vertical stripes of France; the horizontal arrangement of the same colours said "Netherlands"; red, yellow and red of Spain and so on. Does this happen in schools today?
The flag is the descendant of the coat of arms of the lord of an area and then the arms of the king. For when the king was not on the field something was needed to give the troops to follow. So all the troops knew that they were fighting for the right side, they had to know their flag.
So again, I say burn all the England England flags. If you want to look stupid, fly them on your car or in your window but my recommendation is that you burn them!
Wednesday, 2 April 2014
OK folks, just to prove I'm not dead, here's another posting.
If you were thinking of retiring to Spain, think twice. First, what will happen when you get too infirm to look after yourself? Second, who will take care of you when you need it?
In Spain, they still work on what is known as "Roman Law". This means that if you are the second, third or younger child of a family, you have very few rights to look after your parents. I am lucky, I am an only child, had I not been, I would have needed proof in writing from any older siblings that I had permission to generate a Power of Attorney to look after my father's affairs.
Any how, you search around to find a solicitor or factor to prepare the "Power" they then make an appointment with a Public Notary to witness the parent's signature and hear a statement that they know what is going on, thank goodness he remembered! Now comes a week long wait for the Notary to finish what they have to do (possibly sending a copy to Madrid, like they do with wills) then it comes back and you get a copy of it to go to all the people you have to.
It seems, from past experience, that most legal papers have to go off to Madrid for storage. When my mother passed on, her will had to be retrieved from storage in Madrid, but in this day and age of technology there is still a built in wait of a week to ten days while the copy from Madrid is brought down by horse! Alright, it's not a real horse, but there is a built in delay that represents the time it would take by horse. (This is the explanation given to me by the solicitors while we were waiting for Mum's will, I don't know if it is really that reason.)
Spain has a reputation of "Mañana" or "tomorrow", that is if you want anything done, you have to wait. There is no question of rushing official stuff it all takes ages. If you need to do anything, you need paperwork, or a passport, or both.
There is an annoying thing that all Ex-pats are supposed to have and that is an N.I.E. (Number Identificacion de Extranjero) that and the Passport number (which changes every ten years for us Brits) sit comfortably alongside the Spanish Social Security Number, which you will need if you have a reason for visiting a doctor or clinic. Obviously enough, the numbers most Brits have, like the National Insurance Number, and the National Health Number are not used, as this is a totally separate system, but if you are relying on a British pension, you need to keep the NINO for dealing with the Pensions Service.
The NIE is obtained from certain Police Stations but it's a palaver! You go to the office with a form already filled in, they stamp it, tell you to go off to a bank to make the required payment for the fee, then back to the office to hand your form in, when the Chief Commissar of Police deigns to sign the application, you go back and get your number on a printed and rubber stamped form. Spain would collapse if there were no Rubber Stamps. Everything has to be stamped and signed over the stamp, even a form from a doctor to the local council for a "Lifeline" type button.
If your parents retire to Spain, prepare for a lot of hard work! The thing to remember is that they are happy, sort of warm, and possibly drier! The Winter Heat Payments to pensioners is another argument, for another time!
Keep smiling!
If you were thinking of retiring to Spain, think twice. First, what will happen when you get too infirm to look after yourself? Second, who will take care of you when you need it?
In Spain, they still work on what is known as "Roman Law". This means that if you are the second, third or younger child of a family, you have very few rights to look after your parents. I am lucky, I am an only child, had I not been, I would have needed proof in writing from any older siblings that I had permission to generate a Power of Attorney to look after my father's affairs.
Any how, you search around to find a solicitor or factor to prepare the "Power" they then make an appointment with a Public Notary to witness the parent's signature and hear a statement that they know what is going on, thank goodness he remembered! Now comes a week long wait for the Notary to finish what they have to do (possibly sending a copy to Madrid, like they do with wills) then it comes back and you get a copy of it to go to all the people you have to.
It seems, from past experience, that most legal papers have to go off to Madrid for storage. When my mother passed on, her will had to be retrieved from storage in Madrid, but in this day and age of technology there is still a built in wait of a week to ten days while the copy from Madrid is brought down by horse! Alright, it's not a real horse, but there is a built in delay that represents the time it would take by horse. (This is the explanation given to me by the solicitors while we were waiting for Mum's will, I don't know if it is really that reason.)
Spain has a reputation of "Mañana" or "tomorrow", that is if you want anything done, you have to wait. There is no question of rushing official stuff it all takes ages. If you need to do anything, you need paperwork, or a passport, or both.
There is an annoying thing that all Ex-pats are supposed to have and that is an N.I.E. (Number Identificacion de Extranjero) that and the Passport number (which changes every ten years for us Brits) sit comfortably alongside the Spanish Social Security Number, which you will need if you have a reason for visiting a doctor or clinic. Obviously enough, the numbers most Brits have, like the National Insurance Number, and the National Health Number are not used, as this is a totally separate system, but if you are relying on a British pension, you need to keep the NINO for dealing with the Pensions Service.
The NIE is obtained from certain Police Stations but it's a palaver! You go to the office with a form already filled in, they stamp it, tell you to go off to a bank to make the required payment for the fee, then back to the office to hand your form in, when the Chief Commissar of Police deigns to sign the application, you go back and get your number on a printed and rubber stamped form. Spain would collapse if there were no Rubber Stamps. Everything has to be stamped and signed over the stamp, even a form from a doctor to the local council for a "Lifeline" type button.
If your parents retire to Spain, prepare for a lot of hard work! The thing to remember is that they are happy, sort of warm, and possibly drier! The Winter Heat Payments to pensioners is another argument, for another time!
Keep smiling!
Saturday, 4 January 2014
Here goes for the Indignity!
Coming to a computer screen near you, the final degrading step that a person who is already ground down by the benefits system in the UK has to undergo.
I have been poked, prodded, lied about, forced to travel near enough 200 miles to fight my case and now I'm called for a Work Focussed Interview. This is an interview that will most probably be carried out between me and a twenty-something slip of a girl (or man) who has had one job in their life, other than a paper-round while still at school.
The idea of this interview is to tell me that I should be doing this, that and the other to find a job where the employer will not employ me, or if they do, they will most probably ask me to leave after a week because of my disability. I mean, what employer wants an employee that has trouble concentrating in the morning and has trouble staying awake in the afternoon, needs to get out of a normal chair after about 15-20 minutes to loosen his knee joints, can hardly climb stairs (and so is a fire hazard), cannot lift his hands above his head and cannot stand for more than a few minutes.
Yet this is the indignity I have to face on Tuesday. I have to pray that I can park near the DWP office on the other side of town and that they do not want me to go upstairs to an interview room. On top of all this, I have to hope that I do not do, or say, the wrong thing and have the DWP "sanction" me. For those outside the UK, this is where the Department for Works and Pensions arbitrarily decide that I have breached their rules and stop all of my benefits. Not some of my benefits, we are talking, for a first offence (supposedly), all of my benefits. This will mean that my wife and I will have no money for food, heating or light, but we will owe our landlord £200 for the two weeks of rent that will not be paid, if not more if the council do not restart the payments after the fortnight.
The standard working period for the DWP is a fortnight, as, in the past, unemployed people had to sign on for their benefit and then get paid this often. This is not a problem for the clerks in their centrally heated offices who can mark off two weeks on a calendar easily enough. For businesses and banks this is unworkable. It seems that direct debits and the like can only be paid monthly, that is, on the same date every month, days do not come into it unless the 14th falls on a weekend, in which case it used to be paid on the Monday following.
Now, I think to normal people, the problem will be becoming obvious, some months have five weeks in them, in fact, the only month that is an exact four week period is a non-leap year February. So, although the 14th of January is on a Tuesday this year, it is not an even number of weeks from the 14th of February, and so on and so on. This means that budgeting on benefits is an amazing feat of accounting, and if the Chancellor of the Exchequer needed to do it, he would fail unless, as he does, he had a large bank balance in the black.
So, the Minister for Works and Pensions has decided to bring in a system whereby benefits claimants will be paid monthly. It has already cost £50M of lost money already to prepare the system to do it, but it doesn't work. So will future sanctions be for a minimum of a month?
The government, which, yet again, has been caught in a PR lie, is trying to pull the wool over the eyes of the public by making every claimant guilty of "shirking" and cheating the system by use of the media. This government by Upper Class Twits who only have the needs of themselves and their own classmates from Public School or University in mind. These cheats who started by preventing themselves being voted out in the first days of their filling the seats of power with a bunch of sycophantic cronies who are all filling jobs for which they have little or any qualification for.
The people are getting fed up with the austerity package they are being forced to undergo - pay rises capped to 1% while MPs vote themselves a massive pay rise; high paid people get tax cuts in their favour; power companies raise prices by 3% and train companies raise fares by 6%. There will come a time when the people can take no more hypocrisy.
I have been poked, prodded, lied about, forced to travel near enough 200 miles to fight my case and now I'm called for a Work Focussed Interview. This is an interview that will most probably be carried out between me and a twenty-something slip of a girl (or man) who has had one job in their life, other than a paper-round while still at school.
The idea of this interview is to tell me that I should be doing this, that and the other to find a job where the employer will not employ me, or if they do, they will most probably ask me to leave after a week because of my disability. I mean, what employer wants an employee that has trouble concentrating in the morning and has trouble staying awake in the afternoon, needs to get out of a normal chair after about 15-20 minutes to loosen his knee joints, can hardly climb stairs (and so is a fire hazard), cannot lift his hands above his head and cannot stand for more than a few minutes.
Yet this is the indignity I have to face on Tuesday. I have to pray that I can park near the DWP office on the other side of town and that they do not want me to go upstairs to an interview room. On top of all this, I have to hope that I do not do, or say, the wrong thing and have the DWP "sanction" me. For those outside the UK, this is where the Department for Works and Pensions arbitrarily decide that I have breached their rules and stop all of my benefits. Not some of my benefits, we are talking, for a first offence (supposedly), all of my benefits. This will mean that my wife and I will have no money for food, heating or light, but we will owe our landlord £200 for the two weeks of rent that will not be paid, if not more if the council do not restart the payments after the fortnight.
The standard working period for the DWP is a fortnight, as, in the past, unemployed people had to sign on for their benefit and then get paid this often. This is not a problem for the clerks in their centrally heated offices who can mark off two weeks on a calendar easily enough. For businesses and banks this is unworkable. It seems that direct debits and the like can only be paid monthly, that is, on the same date every month, days do not come into it unless the 14th falls on a weekend, in which case it used to be paid on the Monday following.
Now, I think to normal people, the problem will be becoming obvious, some months have five weeks in them, in fact, the only month that is an exact four week period is a non-leap year February. So, although the 14th of January is on a Tuesday this year, it is not an even number of weeks from the 14th of February, and so on and so on. This means that budgeting on benefits is an amazing feat of accounting, and if the Chancellor of the Exchequer needed to do it, he would fail unless, as he does, he had a large bank balance in the black.
So, the Minister for Works and Pensions has decided to bring in a system whereby benefits claimants will be paid monthly. It has already cost £50M of lost money already to prepare the system to do it, but it doesn't work. So will future sanctions be for a minimum of a month?
The government, which, yet again, has been caught in a PR lie, is trying to pull the wool over the eyes of the public by making every claimant guilty of "shirking" and cheating the system by use of the media. This government by Upper Class Twits who only have the needs of themselves and their own classmates from Public School or University in mind. These cheats who started by preventing themselves being voted out in the first days of their filling the seats of power with a bunch of sycophantic cronies who are all filling jobs for which they have little or any qualification for.
The people are getting fed up with the austerity package they are being forced to undergo - pay rises capped to 1% while MPs vote themselves a massive pay rise; high paid people get tax cuts in their favour; power companies raise prices by 3% and train companies raise fares by 6%. There will come a time when the people can take no more hypocrisy.
Saturday, 28 December 2013
Its were the system fails!
I do not apologise for the title of this post, in truth I wanted to take it further. I have turned into a Spelling Pedant!
Reading an item posted on facebook today, I had to mentally replace "there" with "their" and "where" with "were" on so many occasions it made me feel physically ill. I fully realise that not everyone is blessed with a decent education in the UK, but please people, if you are going to write in English, use the right words.
I must have been so lucky in my education that I was taught where to use the right homonym. There are several ways to remember which spelling is required for the correct meaning to be conveyed, it's a case of finding the one that works for you.
For example, one of the worst culprits is the easiest to remember:
THERE/THEIR/THEY'RE
THERE/THEIR/THEY'RE
- There - is not HERE.
- Their - that person is the HEIR, the item is tHEIR property.
- They're = They are - the apostrophe is here to take the place of missing letters.
- Where - it is not HERE, wHERE is it?
- Were - They wERE here ERE they left.
- Wear - You wEAR glasses over your EAR.
- We're = We are - the apostrophe is here to take the place of missing letters.
So you can see that with a little simple thought and care homonyms can be tamed. (sEE with your EyE not sEA that meets the bEAch.) [oh, and that was mEEt as in sEE not mEAT as in EAT]
The biggest drawback with homonyms is that you the user has to know how to use them as a spell-checker will see "We wear here" as correct as "we were here".
So please, people, take care and learn the differences, and make sure you use the right word. I know some will knock my use of grammar in the examples I have given, but if it works, it works!
So please, people, take care and learn the differences, and make sure you use the right word. I know some will knock my use of grammar in the examples I have given, but if it works, it works!
Saturday, 21 December 2013
The turn has wormed!
Yes, OK, I know that it should be the worm that has turned, but in the two months since I last wrote on this blog things have changed a little and it's not me that changed.
So there was I, at the end of my tether, DLA had been denied, ESA on Assessment Rate while I appealed and the thud of paper hitting my doorstep threatened to break my floorboards. Wait five weeks and the date for the appeal into my ESA arrived. Nice and close, BRIGHTON!
In case you don't already know, Hastings is 52 miles away from Brighton and like most people asked to visit a town or city so far away I do not know the layout of it. So, thanks to my dad, I bought a train ticket and got some cash for the taxis and some food.
The day arrived, fortunately as I was about to walk to the station (600m to the platform) so I was going to be in agony before the day started, and my darling daughter turned up to drop her mother off, so I begged a lift and cut out 400m of the walk!
I got to Brighton, fell off the train (at the wrong end) and hobbled to the exit. Unfortunately, Brighton station is designed so that you have to walk across 20 m to get to the ticket barrier and then back 20 m to get to the taxis, which I sort of bypassed and went and got a coffee. Great little coffee bar in the old waiting room with the imaginitive name of "The Waiting Room", nice staff and nice coffee. So then I downed some instant hit Tramadol (those that I get sent into the country from Spain) and shuffled off to get a taxi for the mile to the tribunal centre.
So, there is our hero, arriving at the tribunal centre with his customary early arrival - 30 minutes in this case, and the security man says "Really early sir! You're due to be here in 2 and a half hours!"
"No," Says I, "my appointment is for 2 pm. If they don't like it, they can get me a chair to sit in because I am not sitting on that sofa, as there's no way I'll ever get out of it!"
He dials a number on his telephone and I am soon greeted and taken to the Tribunal Service office and shown into a waiting room. Barely had I sat when a clerk with his shirt hanging out from the back of his trousers called me in to the hearing room.
Quick little chat with a GP and a judge about how things were and how they are (I told the GP that Arthritis is a degenerative illness and yes, over the last 18 months it had got worse). How do you manage to do things, like shopping? We have it delivered, I can drive to the supermarket, but can barely walk round it.
"How do you grip the steering wheel?" asked the judge. The next day I nearly died at the answer I gave! "I don't grip the steering wheel, you don't grip a steering wheel, if you do and hit a pothole you're going into the kerb or a car, anyone that says you grip the steering wheel should go back and learn to drive!" It was the next day I realised the judge had blushed!
"Go sit down again and we'll make our decision." Eh, what? I haven't had a chance to put my side of the argument over, I haven't had a chance to point out the 22 errors in the Atos report! If you have a complaint about Atos, you'll have to take it up with them!
So, I go back to the waiting room, take my bag off my shoulder sit down and the clerk comes back! I was escorted back to the hearing room and there on the table was a piece of paper with "Appeal is allowed"! Mr Turtle is hereby awarded 15 points! 6 more than the original decision.
Now all I have to do is wait for the money to go into my bank for the backdated money that they owe me, including TWO Christmas bonuses - a whole twenty pounds! Ten pounds for each Christmas, a measly fiver for me and a fiver for my wife! This amount was instigated way, way back many decades ago when £10 filled a shopping trolley, now it will pay the delivery fee for the shopping and the electricity to heat the house on Christmas day! Still, the government know the use of a ten pound note, it's used to light a cigarette, well, you can't light a cigar with a £10 it's way too small!
Still, my 18 month fight against the system has been won and now I have to fill in the 40 page form for Personal Independence Payment. I did 5 pages last night, I might go for 5 tomorrow that'll be a fortnight to fill in the whole form! Don't these people realise we're disabled and we didn't choose to be!
So there was I, at the end of my tether, DLA had been denied, ESA on Assessment Rate while I appealed and the thud of paper hitting my doorstep threatened to break my floorboards. Wait five weeks and the date for the appeal into my ESA arrived. Nice and close, BRIGHTON!
In case you don't already know, Hastings is 52 miles away from Brighton and like most people asked to visit a town or city so far away I do not know the layout of it. So, thanks to my dad, I bought a train ticket and got some cash for the taxis and some food.
The day arrived, fortunately as I was about to walk to the station (600m to the platform) so I was going to be in agony before the day started, and my darling daughter turned up to drop her mother off, so I begged a lift and cut out 400m of the walk!
I got to Brighton, fell off the train (at the wrong end) and hobbled to the exit. Unfortunately, Brighton station is designed so that you have to walk across 20 m to get to the ticket barrier and then back 20 m to get to the taxis, which I sort of bypassed and went and got a coffee. Great little coffee bar in the old waiting room with the imaginitive name of "The Waiting Room", nice staff and nice coffee. So then I downed some instant hit Tramadol (those that I get sent into the country from Spain) and shuffled off to get a taxi for the mile to the tribunal centre.
So, there is our hero, arriving at the tribunal centre with his customary early arrival - 30 minutes in this case, and the security man says "Really early sir! You're due to be here in 2 and a half hours!"
"No," Says I, "my appointment is for 2 pm. If they don't like it, they can get me a chair to sit in because I am not sitting on that sofa, as there's no way I'll ever get out of it!"
He dials a number on his telephone and I am soon greeted and taken to the Tribunal Service office and shown into a waiting room. Barely had I sat when a clerk with his shirt hanging out from the back of his trousers called me in to the hearing room.
Quick little chat with a GP and a judge about how things were and how they are (I told the GP that Arthritis is a degenerative illness and yes, over the last 18 months it had got worse). How do you manage to do things, like shopping? We have it delivered, I can drive to the supermarket, but can barely walk round it.
"How do you grip the steering wheel?" asked the judge. The next day I nearly died at the answer I gave! "I don't grip the steering wheel, you don't grip a steering wheel, if you do and hit a pothole you're going into the kerb or a car, anyone that says you grip the steering wheel should go back and learn to drive!" It was the next day I realised the judge had blushed!
"Go sit down again and we'll make our decision." Eh, what? I haven't had a chance to put my side of the argument over, I haven't had a chance to point out the 22 errors in the Atos report! If you have a complaint about Atos, you'll have to take it up with them!
So, I go back to the waiting room, take my bag off my shoulder sit down and the clerk comes back! I was escorted back to the hearing room and there on the table was a piece of paper with "Appeal is allowed"! Mr Turtle is hereby awarded 15 points! 6 more than the original decision.
Now all I have to do is wait for the money to go into my bank for the backdated money that they owe me, including TWO Christmas bonuses - a whole twenty pounds! Ten pounds for each Christmas, a measly fiver for me and a fiver for my wife! This amount was instigated way, way back many decades ago when £10 filled a shopping trolley, now it will pay the delivery fee for the shopping and the electricity to heat the house on Christmas day! Still, the government know the use of a ten pound note, it's used to light a cigarette, well, you can't light a cigar with a £10 it's way too small!
Still, my 18 month fight against the system has been won and now I have to fill in the 40 page form for Personal Independence Payment. I did 5 pages last night, I might go for 5 tomorrow that'll be a fortnight to fill in the whole form! Don't these people realise we're disabled and we didn't choose to be!
Thursday, 3 October 2013
Poetry Day UK
Today is #PoetryDayUK apparently, and my friends that tweet on behalf of WoWPetition suggested a WoW Petition Poetry book. Good idea, if it gets people using poetry.
Poetry is a much maligned form of communication, it takes a lot of thought and a fair smattering of vocabulary. It can't take a lot of brains as Rappers do it (sorry Rappers).
So I thought I'd better get started, and, as a fair shot, I decided to blog a one-hit poem about disability. I promise you the poem below came out in one go, no editing and re-editing like I have the first few paragraphs! Oh, I will come back and add a title, the poem will suggest it.
Hidden Pain
It can't be seen or measured up,
It can't be cured with a click,
It can't be fixed by a suture's stitch
Or by visiting a local witch.
The government think it really simple,
You can see it like a dimple.
Pain comes upon a simple scale
Like a colour dark or pale.
Now think real hard just for me
About some pain that used to be
Now on a scale of one to ten
Say how it hurt and when?
So if I walk for twenty yards
Tomorrow's pain is on the cards
But I can do it so you see,
DLA is not for me!
Poetry is a much maligned form of communication, it takes a lot of thought and a fair smattering of vocabulary. It can't take a lot of brains as Rappers do it (sorry Rappers).
So I thought I'd better get started, and, as a fair shot, I decided to blog a one-hit poem about disability. I promise you the poem below came out in one go, no editing and re-editing like I have the first few paragraphs! Oh, I will come back and add a title, the poem will suggest it.
Hidden Pain
It can't be seen or measured up,
It can't be cured with a click,
It can't be fixed by a suture's stitch
Or by visiting a local witch.
The government think it really simple,
You can see it like a dimple.
Pain comes upon a simple scale
Like a colour dark or pale.
Now think real hard just for me
About some pain that used to be
Now on a scale of one to ten
Say how it hurt and when?
So if I walk for twenty yards
Tomorrow's pain is on the cards
But I can do it so you see,
DLA is not for me!
Thursday, 11 July 2013
Getting Ground Down By The System
Quick recap for those of you who may not know me:
I am 50 years old, I have been suffering with a dislocating knee cap and arthritis in my right knee until 2009 when they replaced the knee joint. This has now put the weight off the left leg which is now suffering from an arthritic condition. The arthritis now affects my arms so I can hardly scratch my own head, I am stuck in my basement and ground floor maisonette with only my car to get me about outside.
The DWP decided last year to reassess me for ESA, and sent out their 21 page form the ESA50. Half way through is a question that I misunderstood and that got me into BIG trouble. First off, in concert with the French Data Processing company ATOS, they based a decision on a report with a minimum of 21 errors and my stupid error and said I am fit for work.
Then the DWP set a person, who to my knowledge has done nothing in their life other than work for the DWP and has no medical knowledge, to look at my Disability Living Allowance. Based on the report with a minimum of 21 errors and my stupid error they said I am not eligible for DLA.
I do a voluntary job on Tuesdays, on Wednesday I am in bed until about 11am trying to get moving as I am so stiff and painful. Many nights, I don't get to sleep because I am in pain until 2 am, but do they care about that? No.
So, as you would, I put in an appeal against the decision to class me as fit for work as far as ESA is concerned, when the decision about the DLA came through, I appealed against that.
Now, twelve months after the so called Work Capability Assessment, I have not yet had my appeal for ESA heard, but the Tribunal Service have drawn a line under my DLA appeal - Not Approved. Basically, Mr Turtle, you have had two 36 mile round trips two towns over on the South Coast and had to climb a massive flight of stairs at the hotel that the tribunal was held at, all for nothing!!!
So I had a quick chat with the DWP representative about what to do, his answer, Shut Up and Put Up, until the ESA Appeal is heard, they may give you points and you can appeal your DLA again!
Alright for him to say, he doesn't realise what I am facing. He doesn't realise what I am about to lose.
Unless I can find a way round it, I will lose my car, therefore, I will lose my mobility, therefore I will be trapped inside this house with no way to get out and about, therefore I will lose my voluntary job, therefore I will have nothing to keep my mind occupied, therefore I will lose my sanity! But I'm FIT FOR WORK!
There's the good news, I can get a job that allows me to move about when I stiffen up, will allow me twice the time of a "normal" person to walk down the corridor to the photocopier/break room etc. and allow me to be taking close to an overdose on Tramadol. Then, on the day after I get into work, they will allow me a day off to recover from the first day, so, possibly, I could work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. So does anyone know anywhere that will pay me five days pay for a three day week? (Apart from being an MP)
I just wish there was some way of temporarily inflicting the pain I feel, the fuzzy head making me question everything I do, the feeling of "have I remembered to do all I had to do", on some one so that they can understand what I am going through. The frustration I feel when I reach for something in a cupboard that I can no longer reach, and it's only just above eye-level. The anger that I cannot keep up with my wife or grandchildren when we are out and about. The way I scream inside my own head at night, so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open, but the pain is so great that I cannot get off to sleep. The useless feeling I get when the weight of my laptop sends needles of pain through my knees and I have to put a tray on a cushion on my lap with the laptop on to ease it.
So here am I, wondering if I have the internal strength to carry on, wondering why everything is mounting up against me, wondering why my MP is such an uncaring sheep she follows the lies and mistruths that the Prime Minister and his cabinet keep spouting without question. Why do all these politicians listen to the lies that are spouted and don't question them I do not understand.
It's a simple thing to go on-line and check on the lies that the government are spouting, it's easy to spot when David Cameron is lying, it's when he's talking about caring, "Being in this together", or benefit claimants in general. I am still looking for the proof of "The test of a good society is you look after the elderly, the frail, the vulnerable, the poorest in our society. And that test is even more important in difficult times, when difficult decisions have to be taken, than it is in better times." as said by David Cameron on the Andrew Marr Show on 2nd May 2010. Three years later and we're getting to see that his society is a BAD one.
I am 50 years old, I have been suffering with a dislocating knee cap and arthritis in my right knee until 2009 when they replaced the knee joint. This has now put the weight off the left leg which is now suffering from an arthritic condition. The arthritis now affects my arms so I can hardly scratch my own head, I am stuck in my basement and ground floor maisonette with only my car to get me about outside.
The DWP decided last year to reassess me for ESA, and sent out their 21 page form the ESA50. Half way through is a question that I misunderstood and that got me into BIG trouble. First off, in concert with the French Data Processing company ATOS, they based a decision on a report with a minimum of 21 errors and my stupid error and said I am fit for work.
Then the DWP set a person, who to my knowledge has done nothing in their life other than work for the DWP and has no medical knowledge, to look at my Disability Living Allowance. Based on the report with a minimum of 21 errors and my stupid error they said I am not eligible for DLA.
I do a voluntary job on Tuesdays, on Wednesday I am in bed until about 11am trying to get moving as I am so stiff and painful. Many nights, I don't get to sleep because I am in pain until 2 am, but do they care about that? No.
So, as you would, I put in an appeal against the decision to class me as fit for work as far as ESA is concerned, when the decision about the DLA came through, I appealed against that.
Now, twelve months after the so called Work Capability Assessment, I have not yet had my appeal for ESA heard, but the Tribunal Service have drawn a line under my DLA appeal - Not Approved. Basically, Mr Turtle, you have had two 36 mile round trips two towns over on the South Coast and had to climb a massive flight of stairs at the hotel that the tribunal was held at, all for nothing!!!
So I had a quick chat with the DWP representative about what to do, his answer, Shut Up and Put Up, until the ESA Appeal is heard, they may give you points and you can appeal your DLA again!
Alright for him to say, he doesn't realise what I am facing. He doesn't realise what I am about to lose.
Unless I can find a way round it, I will lose my car, therefore, I will lose my mobility, therefore I will be trapped inside this house with no way to get out and about, therefore I will lose my voluntary job, therefore I will have nothing to keep my mind occupied, therefore I will lose my sanity! But I'm FIT FOR WORK!
There's the good news, I can get a job that allows me to move about when I stiffen up, will allow me twice the time of a "normal" person to walk down the corridor to the photocopier/break room etc. and allow me to be taking close to an overdose on Tramadol. Then, on the day after I get into work, they will allow me a day off to recover from the first day, so, possibly, I could work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. So does anyone know anywhere that will pay me five days pay for a three day week? (Apart from being an MP)
I just wish there was some way of temporarily inflicting the pain I feel, the fuzzy head making me question everything I do, the feeling of "have I remembered to do all I had to do", on some one so that they can understand what I am going through. The frustration I feel when I reach for something in a cupboard that I can no longer reach, and it's only just above eye-level. The anger that I cannot keep up with my wife or grandchildren when we are out and about. The way I scream inside my own head at night, so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open, but the pain is so great that I cannot get off to sleep. The useless feeling I get when the weight of my laptop sends needles of pain through my knees and I have to put a tray on a cushion on my lap with the laptop on to ease it.
So here am I, wondering if I have the internal strength to carry on, wondering why everything is mounting up against me, wondering why my MP is such an uncaring sheep she follows the lies and mistruths that the Prime Minister and his cabinet keep spouting without question. Why do all these politicians listen to the lies that are spouted and don't question them I do not understand.
It's a simple thing to go on-line and check on the lies that the government are spouting, it's easy to spot when David Cameron is lying, it's when he's talking about caring, "Being in this together", or benefit claimants in general. I am still looking for the proof of "The test of a good society is you look after the elderly, the frail, the vulnerable, the poorest in our society. And that test is even more important in difficult times, when difficult decisions have to be taken, than it is in better times." as said by David Cameron on the Andrew Marr Show on 2nd May 2010. Three years later and we're getting to see that his society is a BAD one.
Saturday, 29 June 2013
Another week has gone by - thank God!
If I have any regular readers, you will note that I have been less forthcoming with my comments lately. There's a very good reason for this, or as I would have typed a week ago " h 's a good eason fo his", basically, the old laptop had a keyboard explosion, 8 keys had lost their buttons. I struggled on, even to the length of borrowing a plug-in keyboard, but, have you tried using a keyboard on top of a keyboard?
So, when MrsT's laptop decided to start issuing blue smoke, I went a-begging of the paternal parent. Two laptops later and we're back on-line.
So now I have to try and get used to, not just a new keyboard layout, but a new operating system, Windows 8! So far, I have only found use for one or two things on the so-called "Metro" screen, the Google shortcut I added is weird, the twitter and facebook shortcuts are so "Retro", I feel as if it were back in the first few months of facebook going global.
Internet Explorer 10 keeps crashing, and I thought they would have had the glitches sorted already! So, the most used shortcut from the "Metro" screen is the "Desktop". But those users of the earlier Windows system will know and love the "Start" Button, the first point of call for closing the computer down, has gone! Still, Microsoft have given a simple way of turning off the computer from any screen.
Half of my programs that I used to use are 32 bit, so won't run on a 64 bit machine! Why MS didn't allow for this beggars belief. We're in a global recession, not enough time for the Software houses to get their act in gear to provide 64 bit versions of all their systems and not enough money to buy it if they had!
Still "Nil carborundum illegittimi" as the pig Latin phrase goes.
So, we have the ultimate in sporting weekends, mid-way through (yawn) Wimbledon, the British Grand Prix of Formula One Motor-Racing, the second Rugby test for the British Lions and the start of the Tour de France. I'm surprised the Cricket world hasn't got a big match on!
With a little bit of a fight for the remote, I got the TV onto the start of the cycling and the Mrs sitting there on her sofa looks up and says "Ooh, is that an easyJet team?", "No dear," I said trying not to be too patronising as all the participants in her choice all wear all white, "that's the Basque cycling team sponsored by a phone company, Euskatel-Euskadi!"
Pity that the Basques are so proud of their region that they won't let an airline that doesn't serve their area aid sponsoring their cycling team. Or Blogger, the people that host this blog, their "corporate" colour is orange too.
Cycling is a strange sport, the female of the species is as fierce as the male, we saw that last year at the Olympic Games. If we're lucky we see it if ITV4 show the National Championships as they did last week. It's a heck of a sport, and you have to be an amazingly fit person to do it, my hat is off to every sport cyclist.
It amazes me when footballers scream for millions of pounds wages per year when they will play two or three matches a week. The 198 cyclists facing the 3,404 kilometres (2115mi 259.65yd) over the next 23 days with only two days rest and will be in the saddle for about 90 hours. Each stage (other than the time trials) will be about 200km (124.274miles) long and at the end of seven of them there will be (hopefully) a sprint finish with speeds reaching 60 km/h (38 mph) on the flat, on a pushbike!!!
I know I ask many people to appreciate what it's like for disabled people, but can you imagine riding a bicycle for six hours and then being able to push it to nearly forty miles an hour? After driving that distance, I want to lie down and have a rest, (OK at the moment, I want to do that after 20 minutes), but when I was younger and fitter, I would have.
So, what's the rest of what's happening? I'm still preparing for round two of my DLA appeal, I'm still waiting for the ESA appeal and it's now a year since the Atos Assessment.
So, when MrsT's laptop decided to start issuing blue smoke, I went a-begging of the paternal parent. Two laptops later and we're back on-line.
So now I have to try and get used to, not just a new keyboard layout, but a new operating system, Windows 8! So far, I have only found use for one or two things on the so-called "Metro" screen, the Google shortcut I added is weird, the twitter and facebook shortcuts are so "Retro", I feel as if it were back in the first few months of facebook going global.
Internet Explorer 10 keeps crashing, and I thought they would have had the glitches sorted already! So, the most used shortcut from the "Metro" screen is the "Desktop". But those users of the earlier Windows system will know and love the "Start" Button, the first point of call for closing the computer down, has gone! Still, Microsoft have given a simple way of turning off the computer from any screen.
Half of my programs that I used to use are 32 bit, so won't run on a 64 bit machine! Why MS didn't allow for this beggars belief. We're in a global recession, not enough time for the Software houses to get their act in gear to provide 64 bit versions of all their systems and not enough money to buy it if they had!
Still "Nil carborundum illegittimi" as the pig Latin phrase goes.
So, we have the ultimate in sporting weekends, mid-way through (yawn) Wimbledon, the British Grand Prix of Formula One Motor-Racing, the second Rugby test for the British Lions and the start of the Tour de France. I'm surprised the Cricket world hasn't got a big match on!
With a little bit of a fight for the remote, I got the TV onto the start of the cycling and the Mrs sitting there on her sofa looks up and says "Ooh, is that an easyJet team?", "No dear," I said trying not to be too patronising as all the participants in her choice all wear all white, "that's the Basque cycling team sponsored by a phone company, Euskatel-Euskadi!"
Pity that the Basques are so proud of their region that they won't let an airline that doesn't serve their area aid sponsoring their cycling team. Or Blogger, the people that host this blog, their "corporate" colour is orange too.
Cycling is a strange sport, the female of the species is as fierce as the male, we saw that last year at the Olympic Games. If we're lucky we see it if ITV4 show the National Championships as they did last week. It's a heck of a sport, and you have to be an amazingly fit person to do it, my hat is off to every sport cyclist.
It amazes me when footballers scream for millions of pounds wages per year when they will play two or three matches a week. The 198 cyclists facing the 3,404 kilometres (2115mi 259.65yd) over the next 23 days with only two days rest and will be in the saddle for about 90 hours. Each stage (other than the time trials) will be about 200km (124.274miles) long and at the end of seven of them there will be (hopefully) a sprint finish with speeds reaching 60 km/h (38 mph) on the flat, on a pushbike!!!
I know I ask many people to appreciate what it's like for disabled people, but can you imagine riding a bicycle for six hours and then being able to push it to nearly forty miles an hour? After driving that distance, I want to lie down and have a rest, (OK at the moment, I want to do that after 20 minutes), but when I was younger and fitter, I would have.
So, what's the rest of what's happening? I'm still preparing for round two of my DLA appeal, I'm still waiting for the ESA appeal and it's now a year since the Atos Assessment.
Sunday, 16 June 2013
Life, the Pain and the Medication!
As a follower of the Diary of a Benefit Scrounger - Sue Marsh's views on life I read with a growing awareness that her blog And Drugs Don't Work They Just Make Things Worse mirrored my life.
I am fairly fortunate that my GP understands how much I respect the lack of control that some medication gives, the fact that some of the medication he has me on is OK for some parts of my life, but doesn't quite help out at the times I need it to. Yes, my GP has agreed to let me control some of my medication with the clear knowledge and understanding that I do respect the maximum daily dose.
Through this, I have now been able to adapt my medication levels to the extent that I can manage to cope with my voluntary job on a Tuesday. This is a good thing.
The negative side to being able to cope with Tuesday is to lose Wednesday. I don't do Wednesdays very well, it takes until about 2 p.m. for the near overdose of Tramadol on the Tuesday to clear out of my head enough for me to feel safe driving (I just pray I don't get a drug test when driving on Wednesdays).
In addition to the loss of Wednesdays and the fuzzy headedness is the disbelief of my wife. Yep, she that must be obeyed can not get her head around the fact that I can cope on Tuesday but not through the rest of the week.
The other really annoying thing about pain, that thing that I have tickling away at my nerve endings even now as I sit here feeling no pain, thanks to the meds, is describing it. Every Health Care Professional wants to know how much pain I'm in on a scale of one to ten. I don't know, I seem to remember the pain I had when my knee dislocated as being the worst I can remember. Now this being the most, it should be a ten. Now I have to think where my pain level is compared to that? At times it seems more as it lasts longer.
Is it as bad as hitting my thumb with a hammer (about a four)? Is it as bad as breaking a rib (about a seven)? Is it as bad as slicing my arm open when falling through a plastic gutter (6)? Is it as bad as ... ? That's my interpretations, what is someone else's?
I can understand 30°C temperature, I've felt it. I've felt it in the south of Spain, I've felt it in the South of France (well in the Pyrenees), I've felt it in the south of England. Three places where the temperature at ground level was the same. Oh no it isn't! In Spain, it's warm. In France it was tolerable. In the UK, however, it's stifling, to hot to breathe.
We can measure temperature, we can measure blood pressure, we can count the number of pulses in a minute. We can do all these things, and do them accurately and repeatedly. So why can't we measure pain accurately?
I am fairly fortunate that my GP understands how much I respect the lack of control that some medication gives, the fact that some of the medication he has me on is OK for some parts of my life, but doesn't quite help out at the times I need it to. Yes, my GP has agreed to let me control some of my medication with the clear knowledge and understanding that I do respect the maximum daily dose.
Through this, I have now been able to adapt my medication levels to the extent that I can manage to cope with my voluntary job on a Tuesday. This is a good thing.
The negative side to being able to cope with Tuesday is to lose Wednesday. I don't do Wednesdays very well, it takes until about 2 p.m. for the near overdose of Tramadol on the Tuesday to clear out of my head enough for me to feel safe driving (I just pray I don't get a drug test when driving on Wednesdays).
In addition to the loss of Wednesdays and the fuzzy headedness is the disbelief of my wife. Yep, she that must be obeyed can not get her head around the fact that I can cope on Tuesday but not through the rest of the week.
The other really annoying thing about pain, that thing that I have tickling away at my nerve endings even now as I sit here feeling no pain, thanks to the meds, is describing it. Every Health Care Professional wants to know how much pain I'm in on a scale of one to ten. I don't know, I seem to remember the pain I had when my knee dislocated as being the worst I can remember. Now this being the most, it should be a ten. Now I have to think where my pain level is compared to that? At times it seems more as it lasts longer.
Is it as bad as hitting my thumb with a hammer (about a four)? Is it as bad as breaking a rib (about a seven)? Is it as bad as slicing my arm open when falling through a plastic gutter (6)? Is it as bad as ... ? That's my interpretations, what is someone else's?
I can understand 30°C temperature, I've felt it. I've felt it in the south of Spain, I've felt it in the South of France (well in the Pyrenees), I've felt it in the south of England. Three places where the temperature at ground level was the same. Oh no it isn't! In Spain, it's warm. In France it was tolerable. In the UK, however, it's stifling, to hot to breathe.
We can measure temperature, we can measure blood pressure, we can count the number of pulses in a minute. We can do all these things, and do them accurately and repeatedly. So why can't we measure pain accurately?
Thursday, 23 May 2013
Religious Hatred
After the brutal killing of Drummer Lee Rigby of the 2nd Battalion the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers in Woolwich by two misguided people, attacks have been made on mosques and muslims in the UK.
Why?
Why are people so focussed on Islam?
Why are there so many Muslims so angry against everything?
I cannot see what difference there is between a Muslim extremist of today or an IRA activist from the 1970's. Yet, when the IRA set off a bomb in Canary Wharf in 1996 killing two, and injuring 39 others, no-one went to Westminster Cathedral and smashed a window. No one thumped an Irish person for being born in the wrong place at the wrong time.
What is wrong with the world?
The Taliban and Al-Qaeda are responsible for the damage done to the reputation of the Islamic people. They are the ones that have infiltrated the mosques to incite the hatred of some young people to such an incendiary level. It's not a political thing. It's not a religious thing. It's something that has no explanation as it occurs only in the heads of people that are so unbalanced that they are looking at the world from some strange viewpoint that no sane person can understand.
I can't quote from the Q'uran, but I am sure that in that holy book, somewhere, it says that to take the life of another human being is wrong.
I can quote from the Old Testament and I know it says "You shall not kill!"
Just remember, do as you would be done by. Love one another. Give Peace a Chance!
Why?
Why are people so focussed on Islam?
Why are there so many Muslims so angry against everything?
I cannot see what difference there is between a Muslim extremist of today or an IRA activist from the 1970's. Yet, when the IRA set off a bomb in Canary Wharf in 1996 killing two, and injuring 39 others, no-one went to Westminster Cathedral and smashed a window. No one thumped an Irish person for being born in the wrong place at the wrong time.
What is wrong with the world?
The Taliban and Al-Qaeda are responsible for the damage done to the reputation of the Islamic people. They are the ones that have infiltrated the mosques to incite the hatred of some young people to such an incendiary level. It's not a political thing. It's not a religious thing. It's something that has no explanation as it occurs only in the heads of people that are so unbalanced that they are looking at the world from some strange viewpoint that no sane person can understand.
I can't quote from the Q'uran, but I am sure that in that holy book, somewhere, it says that to take the life of another human being is wrong.
I can quote from the Old Testament and I know it says "You shall not kill!"
Just remember, do as you would be done by. Love one another. Give Peace a Chance!
Sunday, 19 May 2013
Funky Mango's Musings: The Impossible Girl (spoilers) #DoctorWho #Spoonie...
Reblogged from: Funky Mango's Musings: The Impossible Girl (spoilers) #DoctorWho #Spoonie...:
Last night was the season finale of Doctor Who. I thought it was one of
the best episodes for quite some time, certainly the best of the
season. But it also got me to thinking. A major theme was losing and
gaining control - both for the Doctor and his current companion, Clara.
And that's also a huge issue for spoonies, people with long-term illnesses that cause crippling fatigue.
The baddies in this episode were the Whispermen, who kidnap the Doctor's friends Clara, Vastra, Jenny and Strax to lure him to the one place he must never go: his grave, on the planet Trenzalore.
When we become ill, it's as if we've been kidnapped and taken to a
different planet. We are snatched away from our everyday lives, held
hostage by the limitations of our conditions.
There is no body in the Doctor's tomb. Instead there is a time tunnel, made of scar tissue from all the Doctor's travels through time and space. The villain of the piece, the Great Intelligence (hammed up wonderfully by Richard E. Grant) enters the time tunnel, aiming to split itself into fragments scattered throughout the Doctor's timeline and corrupt it absolutely, undoing all the good he's done.
Clara follows it into the time tunnel in an attempt to reverse the damage. Things take place around her. Previous incarnations of the Doctor run by. At first she feels out of control. She has no idea what's going on.
Gradually she works out her purpose. The Doctor is always there, though
not always in the same form. She can recognise the best thing for the
Doctor to do: she saves his life.
It's the same for us. At first, everything is confusion and feeling out
of control. Fatigue, pain, brain fog. But gradually, a pattern emerges.
We work out what to do. How to live our lives in the best possible way
for ourselves and those around us. Maybe we're not saving the Doctor (or
maybe you are?) but in our own way we're time lords, pacing and resting
so we can do the things we really want to do.
We're the impossible girls and boys. We learn our purpose. We regain control over our lives.
We're spoonies.
The baddies in this episode were the Whispermen, who kidnap the Doctor's friends Clara, Vastra, Jenny and Strax to lure him to the one place he must never go: his grave, on the planet Trenzalore.
There is no body in the Doctor's tomb. Instead there is a time tunnel, made of scar tissue from all the Doctor's travels through time and space. The villain of the piece, the Great Intelligence (hammed up wonderfully by Richard E. Grant) enters the time tunnel, aiming to split itself into fragments scattered throughout the Doctor's timeline and corrupt it absolutely, undoing all the good he's done.
Clara follows it into the time tunnel in an attempt to reverse the damage. Things take place around her. Previous incarnations of the Doctor run by. At first she feels out of control. She has no idea what's going on.
We're the impossible girls and boys. We learn our purpose. We regain control over our lives.
We're spoonies.
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