Mob rule...

The crowds have been out in Washington, waving banners, shouting slogans and refusing to accept the results of a free and fair election. The blame lies entirely with Donald Trump. To his already long list of personal failings, we can add another: he’s not just a loser… he’s a bad loser. His claims that the election was rigged are entirely baseless, his lawsuits without merit. If he had conceded defeat, and congratulated Joe Biden on winning the election, then (most of) his followers would have accepted the result too… albeit grudgingly. Instead he is whipping up his followers into a frenzy, and putting democracy at risk, just to give himself an outside chance of a second term as president.

The battle in the USA is no longer between Republicans and Democrats; it’s between democracy and mob rule. People will die as a direct result of Trump’s intransigence. Worse, they’ll die in vain, because his cynical ploys won’t work. Donald Trump will vacate the White House, one way or another, and Joe Biden will be sworn in as the 46th president… 

South Dalton in the Yorkshire Wolds...

Peter Sutcliffe...

I read on the Guardian website about the death of Peter Sutcliffe; just seeing it in print made me jump, as memories flooded back of living in Leeds in the 1970s. Sutcliffe’s first victims were prostitutes. It was obviously easier to target the women working the streets of northern towns, because they needed little persuading to get into his car. The police response was muted initially, with suggestions that the killer was doing the police’s job, by “cleaning up the streets”. Sex workers, it seemed, were dispensible. It wasn’t until Jayne MacDonald, a student at Leeds University, became his fifth victim, that the police investigation was stepped up. She was described by police as the first “innocent” victim, who “didn’t deserve to die”.

The investigation took a wrong turn when a cassette tape was sent to George Oldfield, Assistant Chief Constable of West Yorkshire Police. “I’m Jack”, claimed a mocking voice in a Wearside accent. “I see you are still having no luck catching me”. That hoax tape, broadcast continuously to shoppers at the Merrion Centre, distracted the police for 18 months. While they looked for a man from Wearside, three more women were killed. Peter Sutcliffe was interviewed on nine separate occasions by police, and released each time because he had a Yorkshire accent (but if they had searched his garage, they would have found the tools of his grisly trade).

Joy and I were sitting in the Little Park pub in Burley - demolished years ago - when someone burst through the door shouting “They’ve got him!”... and no one needed to be told who “he” was. Peter Sutcliffe murdered 13 women, attacked many more and left 23 children without a mother…

Racial terminology...

Greg Clarke has resigned as Chairman of the Football Association for ill-considered comments he made while being interrogated by MPs. He used the term “coloured” to describe black, Asian and minority ethnic people and suggested that “different career interests” led south Asian people to choose careers in IT over sport. He also described a gay player coming out as a “life choice” and recounted an anecdote about girl footballers being afraid to be hit by the ball.

According to a survey of UK sporting organisations, the term BAME (Black Asian and Minority Ethnic) is “insulting” and should be retired. Arun Kang, the CEO of Sporting Equals, is suggesting that “ethnically diverse communities” (or “diverse ethnic communities”) should be used instead. We seem to be running out of inoffensive acronymns and euphemisms. I’m not surprised that Greg Clarke used an anachronistic term; despite his elevated position within the FA - and salary to match - he’s not the sharpest knife in the box. It could even be seen as an honest mistake by a man who failed to keep abreast of current trends in racial terminology.

Ironically, you only have to attend a football match, or watch a game on TV in a febrile pub atmosphere, to hear language unmoderated by any attempt to avoid offence. “A fucking lazy thick nigger” was pundit Ron Atkinson’s verdict on Marcel Desailly after a match, when he thought his microphone had been switched off. I wonder what percentage of the population believe that only white people can genuinely claim to be called English or British. The majority, I suspect.

Licensed today, for TV use: a night scene in Carlisle…

 

Tewkesbury...

Licensed today: a street scene in Tewkesbury, Gloucester...

 

Predatory priests...

The Catholic Church, market leader in the child molestation business, has been criticised, yet again, for being more interested in the church’s reputation than in the welfare of victims. The 162-page report, the result of an independent enquiry, is damning: “The church’s neglect of the physical, emotional and spiritual wellbeing of children and young people in favour of protecting its reputation was in conflict with its mission of love and care for the innocent and vulnerable”. There will no doubt be another enquiry next year, and the year after that, but nothing much will change. The church will dip into its coffers to pay off some of the more persistent victims, while continuing to faciliate the abuse of children by predatory priests, whose vow of chastity looks like a sick joke. 

Licensed today: Scale Lane Bridge in Hull...

Sexuality...

Dispensing with hell was a hazardous move for the Church of England. Instead of blackmailing people into belief, by threatening them with an eternity of hellfire, church leaders are having to rely on persuasive argument… which puts them at a distinct disadvantage.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, is promising that, by 2022, the church will have formalised its stance on sexuality. Currently the church does not allow same-sex marriage, and does not officially bless same-sex civil partnerships. Gay clergy are permitted to be in relationships so long as they remain celibate.

Will it really take two years for the Church of England to do the right thing? And, if they do, will anyone still be listening?

Douglas...

I’ve learned that Douglas, whose portrait hangs on my wall, died back in May, aged 101, having caught coronairus during a visit to hospital. He has been a reassuring presence during lockdown: stoical, serene, wise and non-judgemental…