I have just read Hillary’s valedictory speech, and by jove, it’s a cracker. It reminded me while I was wanting her for president in the first place, before her bizarre policy mistakes.
Anyway, the team of speechwriters who came up with this masterpiece should really pat themselves on the back.
Here’s the link.
Picture courtesy of Phreak2.0 on Flickr
It’s a gorgeous day up here in Scotland, and the European Soccer Championship has begun. While I am writing this, Group B has begun to play, with Austria and Croatia hard at it. The big problem for the Brits and the Irish is of course to choose which nation to cheer for (btw, Croatia leads 1:0 via a penalty). While it would be obvious to cheer for your closest neighbours (The Netherlands, France or Germany) it looks like the UK has chosen Poland as its favourite footynation (no wonder, with half a milion polish migrants prepping up the economy). Apart from the general move towards the poles, each pub wil probably chose its own nation, depending on the ethnic mix of its neigbourhood, though I find it unlikely that a pub in Sutherland will suddenly sport a plethora of German flags and serve Weissbier.
Nevertheless, since the Worldcup in 2006 the tone in the red tops here in the UK towards Germany has become much more conciliatory. Must have something to do with millions of tipsy Brits having a smashing time in German town centers during the tournament. Which of course proves what Charlemagne, one of The Economist’s columnists once said:
Brussels is full of monuments to the “builders of Europe”. There is the Schuman district, the Monnet circle, the Spinelli building. It may now be time for a Stelios Square or a Boulevard O’Leary. For in recent years, Stelios Haji-Ioannou and Michael O’Leary, the two pioneers of Europe’s low-cost airlines, have done more to integrate Europe than any numbers of diplomats and ministers.
With dozens of European players featuring every weekend in the lineup of Premiership teams, it can’t be hard to find your favourite team. Maybe even distribute one team to every homenation? The Scots could prop up the auld alliance and cheer for the French, the English could swallow their pride and support a nation that doesn’t have a problems with penalty shootouts (e.g. Germany), Northern Ireland could pick a nation that has had an eqaully galling civil war, for instance Croatia, and the Irish could take up a hopeless cause, like Switzerland.
There. All sorted out. Now go get your drinkies, phone your friends and settle down in front of the TV, watch some footy and cheer for the Germans.
Prost!
And so the inevitable, though 18 months ago unthinkable, has happened: Barack Obama has grasped the candidacy of the Democratic Party for the presidency of the US. I am not qualified enough to play political journalist and will never posess the beautiful prose with some of these people write, but I can tell you that 12 months ago I was a commited Hillaritarian: I wanted a woman to be president (I still [maybe foolishly] believe that women [even in politics] rather talk about shoes than wage war, making the world an inherently safer place), and I wanted it to be Hillary. She was committed to universal healthcare, had significant experience in policy making and as a European I wanted her to bring Bill along (always called the most instinctive politician of his generation but who damaged her campaign from the sidelines so badly that he needs to take some of the blame for her downfall) who would have made a great foreign policy advisor and all around good guy. I had a soft spot for Joe Biden and thought that Obama was a ballsy, inspired orator, but for me it was the Hill and Bill show all the way.
Then, 2 months ago, I switched allegiances. What went wrong? It’s not like that Obama has presented a detailed set of policies that I can subscribe to and he still sounds terribly vague on most fronts, but it was really Hillary herself that made me leave her camp.
The first time I rolled my eyes and thought ‘oh my god’ was during her interview on ‘Good Morning America’:
“I want the Iranians to know that if I’m the president, we will attack Iran (if it attacks Israel). In the next 10 years, during which they might foolishly consider launching an attack on Israel, we would be able to totally obliterate them.”
Hello? Haven’t we had enough hawkish morons in the US administration over the last 8 years? As soon as that goon Ahmadinejad is gone it’s going to be easier to talk to the Iranians anyway. But now, she had to do a McCain.
And then there was the environmental own goal of proposing to give the most energy inefficient nation on this world a ‘tax holiday’ on their enormously subsidised fuel.
Duh.
Obama (or that ‘Muslim Guy’, as I heard a lady from Arkansas call him) makes more conciliatory noises on foreign policy and was not prepared to support that idiotic and populistic tax holiday thing which strikes me as a better plan if you want to steer a globally despised nation in times of 145$ per barrel of crude.
So, if I would be a resident in that country south of Canada (which I’ll [touch wood] never be), my vote would go to that brave new hope of the Democratic Party.
Can he do it ?
Yes, he can.
P.S. Although he should really lose the ‘Bob the Builder’ references.
P.P.S And Hillary? She would make an excellent Secretary of Health. And Bill could become the American Ambasador in Paris.
I heard this during last year’s Now Show, and I laughed so hard that I fell out of bed. This is Marcus Brigstocke having an enlightened go at religion.
Enjoy…
As a male of the species, living within Her Majesty’s commonwealth for more than a decade, there are some things that have left their imprint on me. By gradual social osmosis I have started to develop a taste for real ales (I am even a member of CAMRA, for goodness sake), roast potatoes, instant coffee, gardening programs and sheds.
Yes, sheds.
If you think about it, the humble garden shed (or garden outhouse, in which this blog was conceived) is the ultimate getaway for today’s male. Persecuted by the pressures of washing his hands regularly, putting things were they came from, and not having various gadgets in a state of repair lying around, the shed is the location where we unfortunate bearer of the Y chromosome can hide away, listen to his favourite music, pick his nose, pass wind and play his favourite games while being surrounded by a tasteful cacophony of old motherboards, CDs, electric tools and speakers.
I always had the fantasy of having one of those (after having to say goodbye to the outhouse) again. Of course now being back in blighty I will not be able to afford an such an enormous structure (heck, my garden won’t probably be that size), but a smaller one could neatly fit into my future backyard.
This is where Shedworking comes handy. A blog on the same level of aberrant genius as Eggbanconchipsandbeans, this gives the aspiring shedworker everything he needs to consider when building one himself. In my case that would of course include being off the grid and have the shed’s innards run on renewable energy (there’s always space for phothovoltaics and the odd wind turbine on the roof of the shed) and with a wireless accesspoint in the house there would be no need for wires. The ‘time for dinner’ call could come via twitter.
So, another site that makes it into my elusive blogroll.
Tataaa!
Messaged from the Outhouse 