Morning music
That weasel Starmer, with his almost shamefaced (as well as shameful) self-serving lack of moral compass —albeit concealed behind a facade of faux-“decency”— reminds me very much of Cecil Parkinson [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cecil_Parkinson].
The little Indian money-juggler must be well-aware that most voters (even former Conservative voters) view the state of the country as terrible and getting worse.
If a general election is held “now” or soon, i.e. sometime in Spring 2024, the Conservative Party MP-cadre may be all but wiped out— possibly with only about 50 MPs left, though maybe 100 or, if Sunak is exceptionally lucky, 150.
If, on the other hand, the 2024 General Election is delayed until the winter of 2024, the state of the UK will almost inevitably be yet worse, and therefore the popularity of the (supposedly) governing Con Party will be even lower.
The usual stresses on NHS, transport etc will be even more severe, and the international situation may place greater stresses on the economy. Added to those factors, the migration-invasion will have continued for another year (nearly). On those premises, the Con Party may face not only the possibility but the probability that it will be reduced to something like 50 MPs.
It seems to me, therefore, that the GE will take place in late Summer or early Autumn, before the cold weather again arrives. So about 6-9 months from now. That gives time for Labour to make mistakes.
Even so, it seems unlikely (even in the “glorious uncertainty” of the UK electoral system) that the Conservative Party can hope for an MP-cadre much if at all higher than 100; certainly no more than 150. 150 would be bad for the Con Party (similar, though worse, to 1997 and 2001), whereas 100 or fewer would be seen as disastrous.
For me, perhaps for others in the social-national milieu, the main thing is to break the whole binary electoral system, which presents, every 4-5 years, a false choice to the electorate.
If the Conservative Party is trashed in the 2024 General Election, Labour will be able to form an elected dictatorship even worse than under Blair and Brown. That will lead to popular discontent (when it fails to address the several major challenges facing the UK), with the people even more eager to embrace a new way forward under a new political party or movement, and with the small rump Conservative Party having no credibility as an alternative government.
From the newspapers
“A Las Vegas judge was pounced on and attacked by a criminal during a hearing after she denied him bail.
Judge Mary Kay Holthus from the Clark County District Court was mid-sentencing when convicted criminal Deobra Delone Redden launched at her on Wednesday morning.
Video footage shows the wild moment Redden leaped out from where he was standing and hopped into the judge’s bench to tackle her.“
[Daily Mail]
Ha ha! Not that I myself would do the same (regular readers of the blog will know that I recently joined the convict classes, having made the mistake of thinking that England still had left at least some free speech or freedom of expression).
The American incident reported upon above reminds me of another incident, which happened when I was a Bar pupil (trainee barrister). That must have been in 1992.
The case involved two West Indians alleged to have robbed a petrol station in NW London, using a machete. They had been arrested the same evening, not very long afterwards, in the (alleged) getaway car.
There were oddities in the evidence. The car had been searched following the stop. No money or weapons had been found. Later, at the police station, a further search revealed a wad of cash. A week later, a further search “discovered” a container full of coins (allegedly from the filling station) and a machete. The allegation from the defendants was that everything had been planted.
My pupilmaster represented one defendant, about 6 ft 6 inches and massively built. A little twerp I recalled from the Inns of Court School of Law (“Bar School”) represented the other defendant, a menacing dreadlocked type calling to mind the drug-crazed “Mai Mulele” rebels of the Congo of the mid-1960s (see https://www.nytimes.com/1964/05/31/archives/rebels-in-congo-disdain-bullets-150-die-as-incantation-fails-to.html).
In fact, though I did not know said little twerp barrister, I recognized him, having been on the Bar Finals course with him (and hundreds of others) in 1987-88. I however had gone to the USA a while after that, so had not been Called to the (English) Bar until 1991; I also qualified at and was Admitted to the Bar of the State of New York.
All this took place at Wood Green Crown Court. As a Bar pupil, in 1992, I was there fairly frequently.
Both defendants were in custody, having been refused bail prior to trial.
The evidence against the defendants was non-existent, save for that “found” in the car. There was no cctv evidence, no fingerprint evidence, no DNA evidence (this was in 1992, and such evidence was still in its infancy). The (apparently) diminutive Indian cashier in the petrol station had been terrified, and gave no testimony. Neither did the defendants.
Despite the paucity of evidence, the jury came back with “Guilty” verdicts. There was a moment of silence. A member of the Metropolitan Police Flying Squad then gave the judge a rundown of the previous most relevant convictions of the defendants. The judge knew most of that already, as did Counsel, but of course the jury did not. There were gasps as the long list of increasingly-serious convictions was read out, topped finally by the information that the defendants still faced another upcoming trial in which they would stand accused (at the Old Bailey) of conspiring to rob building society branches, armed with sawn-off shotguns.
The judge listened patiently while, for 20 minutes, little twerp barrister attempted to mitigate. My pupilmaster declined to attempt any mitigation. The judge then sentenced the two to exactly the same term— 5 years each.
Another moment of silence preceded an explosion from the dock (behind us) as the defendants shouted out (to the jury) “YOU DOGS! YOU FUCKING WHITE DOGS!“.
The jury members (in fact not all white, there being one black woman and at least one Indian) quailed; I thought that one woman jury member might faint or cry out, though she bravely sat it out. The little twerp Counsel looked nervously over his shoulder, as did my pupilmaster. I had also looked round as the outburst had happened, but now pretended to be writing (in order to seem stoic, I think, pointless and perhaps ludicrous as that was).
The defendants then tried to fight their way out of and over the dock. The judge pressed his concealed button but stayed seated. His face was that “Judicial Livid” (red/purple) that I later saw once or twice at the High Court when a judge did not wholly appreciate my argument…
After a lot of banging, thudding, and swearing, the defendants were subdued by the two prison guards accompanying them. Other court security people then entered the courtroom. The defendants were taken down (to the cells below).
Just a day in the life, as they say.
Late music
Ian Robert Millard 