A few things. More anger.

The Post Office workers strike. Get rid. We do not need to be ransomed by some out-of-date socialistic Statist apparatus. A dinosaur of a bygone age. Why hasn’t the postal service been opened to competition? Why are we still held out to dry by some discredited left-wing ideology? This impacts on the entire country, businesses and private (ha!) citizens both. Dismantle their monopoly. Comrades in arms? Comrades in inefficiency. Comrades in making sure we remember why it was A Good Thing to get rid of the Unions stranglehold on the country’s industry. Comrades in waste. Oh, cry the usual suspects, the usual handwringers who are happy to spend my tax money on lost causes (don’t start me on the something must be done brigade, as that invariably means they expect someone to sort it out for them, that someone being the Government, and that means that Government squeezing more money from me to, in the end, do bugger all about it, increase the size of the State, the apparatus that goes with it, the hangers on, the focus groups, the quangos, the waste and the wasters), oh, they moan, it just won’t work when opened to many carriers. Why won’t it? Don’t hold on to outmoded ideas. There are very few, if any, reasons why anything should be nationalised. Certainly not some mediocre (at the best of times) glorified distribution network.

Which brings me on to the other cough national institution that needs torn down. The out-and-out Biased BBC. Ignoring any of the bias for now, if I was to choose to pay (what?) one hundred and thirty quid a year to subscribe to it, there is no way I would. No, Radio Four isn’t worth the licence fee alone. None of it is. Sure, there are programmes I like. Top Gear would be top of the list. But I really, really resent having no choice in paying the licence fee. Just another tax. And when I hear the luvvies whinging about they need an increase in it, I despise more the whole public sector, with its safe mentality that they deserve the money I get shafted for, that they feel they are producing something that I want whether I know it or not. I don’t. It is not even a stealth tax. It is a broad-daylight, arm-twisting, dishonest, dirty tax. The BBC is not worth what we spend on it. Which they would discover very quickly if they had to stand on their own merits.

There was, once, I think, a saying. Never talk to an Irishman about religion or politics. It was pointed out in NewNewWork that if people wish to just listen to me go on and on and on and on (and not in the usual way) then those two topics are the places to be. Then I started to ponder, again, on the nonsense that is in my head. I know so much irrelevant, tangential and incoherent bits and pieces that I can bore on most subjects, or enough to engage someone who does know so I can act the knowledge tart and increase aforementioned nonsense in my head. But some subjects just get my gander up. People putting up strawmen for Leftist arguments (they all come down to the same misguided, misplaced principles) would be one of them. My personal tax burden would be another. Then we have the BBC. And bad music. And ID cards. And over-engineered clever software. And the nannying state. And mushrooms. And and and and and and…

…and and and none of it matters compared to, for example, the laughter we had when wee Lottie-A comes out with In your face, Newtonian physics!

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