Welcome to the Police State
So, this is it. After 800 years, our nation has decided that it is, in fact, OK to lock people up without trial, for any reason, for any period of time, on evidence so secret it can't be made public, even to the accused. Tell me again, who are they supposed to be protecting us from?
"Does Magna Carta mean nothing to you? Did she die in vain?" asked Tony Hancock. Unfortunately, Tone, me old son, she just did.
It was an affair where no-one has emerged with any credit. Blair got what he wanted, and the opposition parties, such as they are, caved in with a promise that the act would be reviewed in a year's time --- and quietly renewed.
And you ask yourself again - who is this act protecting us from? Total terrorist attacks on the British mainland since Labour came to power in 1997: Nil. But, says our glorious leader, "our brave security forces have foiled dozens".
And the evidence for this?
"Sorry, it's secret."
Secret, like the legal advice for going to war with Iraq, then. This government likes secrets.
"Watch it son, that's the kind of terrorist talk that gets you locked up."
Somewhere, a clock struck thirteen.
On the Road
Mosher regularly updates his blog with a list of "Weird stuff I've seen whilst driving". Now that I too use my car for work, and hence am turning myself into a bigger bastard than I ever was, it is the time to start a list of my own:
1. The Queen, running me off the road in a Range Rover, the bitch.
2. A whole portakabin, taking up both carriageways of the A31.
3. A Roman Abramovich-sized boat which is larger that the truck carrying it. This is almost a daily occurance chez nous, thanks to local boat builders, so hardly counts as weird.
4. Two truckloads of fresh nuclear warheads accompanied by incredibly angry looking naval types.
I've got a hard act to beat. Mr's Duck's uncle was a truck driver - amongst the weird shit that he saw in his career pounding the highways, he once found a whole wedding cake by the side of the road. Naturally, he took it home and ate the thing.
You know what I'm going to say: list-me-do!