Black Lives Matter Protests boosts Trump's re-election in November 2020

Like all right minded people, I was sickened, horrified and appalled at the slow, deliberate and brutal death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis Police Officers. 

As we all are painfully aware this gruesome incident sparked fierce protests not only in America but across the globe including in the UK demanding change and justice for Mr Floyd and his family. 

I thought for one glorious moment that this would be the tipping point where all people from different economic backgrounds, races and political affiliations would have coalesced together under one banner to fight for genuine change. The Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement would be at the forefront of this peaceful revolution.  

However, what we have witnessed over the weeks is looting, burning and ransacking of businesses (many of them black owned) across the United States. The looters and arsonists do not care one iota about the death of George Floyd but saw this as an opportunity to fill their own pockets. Similarly, in London the protests have turned to violence where a significant minority have fought with police and insulted black police officers as 'race traitors'.

 As soon as the first brick was thrown, the first window pane smashed and the first business set alight the cause was irrevocably lost. These actions repulse and scare the pants of the silent majority of Americans who will go to the polling stations in November and vote in huge numbers to re-elect the self-styled law and order candidate, President Trump.   

It should not have come to this. The BLM had the sympathy of the world behind them, but allowing themselves to be hijacked by extremists and advocating to defund the police, the movement along with Joe Biden and the Democratic Party have clutched defeat from the gaping jaws of victory. President Trump could not have hoped for a better outcome even if he meticulously planned it himself.  

Coronavirus Pandemic - Never Discuss Politics or Religion among friends

With being furloughed from my events company, it has given me time to catch up with friends and family via social media.

I had the opportunity to speak with a companion of mine who I have known for several years. We had lost touch for a time but we were able to renew our acquaintance over the last six months.

We are both keen on politics her more so than I, but it was only when we rebooted our friendship that I realised how passionate she was about her political views and how she saw the world. Maybe I should of guessed her politics, as on her WhatsApp image she has photo of her and a smiling Jeremy Corbyn cheek to cheek.

Personally, I am moderate in all things especially when it comes to politics. In the past you would of refer to me as a Blairite (that was before he invaded Iraq with his brethren President George Bush).

I was never a Jeremy Corbyn fan and was horrified that he became leader of the Labour Party. No denying I was in the camp that wanted this old Trotskyite ousted from the leadership along with his communist companion John McDonald. I predicted nothing good would come of it with these people at the helm of the opposition party.

I hadn't realised that my friend was a fully paid up member of Momentum (socialist movement within the Labour party). They viewed Jeremy Corbyn as a saint, freedom fighter and hero of the downtrodden lumpen proletariat. Unquestionably, for most in Momentum including her, Corbyn is the British equivalent  of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara rolled into one.

This soon became apparent whenever we discuss politics. I tried to explain my political leanings but she would always rebuff my concerns over the labour leader by saying that I was being manipulated by the mainstream media and that anything negative about Corbyn was down to them and the right wing establishment.

When Labour lost the last election (December 2019), losing so many seats in traditional labour constituencies, according to her it was the media along with Labour in-fighting that caused this historic defeat.  Not one iota of blame was attributed to Corbyn and his acolytes.

It was nothing to do with the policies that Labour espoused and the muddled thinking over Brexit. It was all the fault of the establishment and the ignorance of voters. I thought when you start blaming voters that's when you truly lost any semblance of reality.

This came to a head after another feisty debate over the new leader Keir Starmer (who I am a keen supporter of and whom she hates). She texted me later saying she could not be friends any longer with someone who possessed my political views. This was accompanied with other messages which she accused me of being of low intelligence, mentally impaired and a thicko.

I was astounded that she would have nothing to do with me just because I disliked Jeremy Corbyn and the way he went about destroying the Labour Party. It wasn't as if I was a raving right-wing lunatic who admired Nigel Farage, supported Brexit and hated immigrants. For pity's sake we were in the same party!

However, purity was everything for her. If you weren't an ardent socialist, wanting to overthrow capitalism, then you were the enemy and you might as well be a fascist. 

I shall miss her indeed but as they say up in Yorkshire -  There's nowt so queer as folk!

Coronavirus Pandemic - The New Me On The Other Side

I read on Twitter that there are 3 things that you should be able to fulfil  when we eventually come out of self-imposed lockdown.

First develop a new skill. Second, plan a side hustle. Third, gain more knowledge.

After some reflection and still at the embryo stages of my thought processes, thus subject to substantial changes between now and the foreseeable future, my categories are the following: 

1. My new skill learnt would be poker (Texas Hold Em to be precise). Arguably, this could feed into my side hustle as I can envisage myself adorn in a loud sparkling shirt, dark rimmed glasses and wearing a 10 galleon hat playing poker at the Plaza in Las Vegas for eye-watering amounts.

If successful, this would be welcomed revenue to supplement my unemployment benefit if the pandemic wipes out the events/hospitality industry altogether. A relative suggested I could work for a food store if everything goes to pot. Stacking shelves at your local Sainsbury's is noble work and you can proudly say that you are a Key worker and enjoy the adulation as the whole nation appreciates your contribution by giving you a round of applause every Thursday. However, that's not for me, I want my new skill to have slightly more glamour than piling tins of Heinz bake beans on top of one another. More 'Bling than tin'.

2. My side hustle apart from the poker, would be my desire to become a personal trainer. Keeping up with my bling and glamourous trend, I would focus my efforts in training the rich and famous. I can imagine myself putting through their paces soap stars wanting to lose their man breasts, love handles and cellulite on their thighs.    

3. Reading more is the final part of the trilogy. The isolation has given me the opportunity to read the books that people purchased for me over the years that have simply collected dust on my fabulous designed book shelves. Apart from consuming fictional authors such as Sue Townsend, Tom Sharpe and Terry Pratchett, I would highly recommend Michael Haralambos book on Sociology which touches upon the Human Condition. Very relevant in the circumstances that we collectively find ourselves in. I have realised belatedly and to my shame that my books are not just there as an intelligent crafted backdrop when I appear on Zoom. 

The success of this endeavour is all a matter of discipline. It is not as if don't have the time. Maybe even too much time. That's my problem, the danger that I convert to my old self; sheer bloody laziness and procrastination.

The fear of fallen into my old ways could easily see me with three alternative scenarios after quarantine:

1. Extra blubber including Katie Price size man boobs, elephantine love handles and enough cellulite to inject into the lips of every wannabe star appearing on Love Island for the next ten series.
2. After weeks of isolation seeing myself creating an imaginary companion by drawing a face on an Adidas football and it being my best pal. 
3. An inability to do anything except watch copious amounts of Netflix, view dogs and cats behaving badly on YouTube and troll Twitter endlessly.  

Thus, either I will turn out to be a new renaissance man or a morbidly obese drooling Neanderthal after lockdown. As they say only time will tell. 

Coronavirus Pandemic - Lock me up already!

My heart sank even though it was inevitable, when it was announced last night (16 April 2020) by the stand-in Prime Minister Dominic Raab that the country-wide lockdown will continue for another THREE whole bloody weeks. God give me strength!

It was hard in the beginning to keep myself occupied in self isolation. This was not helped with the news that I have been furloughed by my work. It was no real surprise considering that my company specialises in events. Hence, this pandemic has been a disaster for the organisation and the events industry as a whole.

With time on my hands I have been fortunate that I have been able to volunteer at a local Food Bank, offer my services at a nearby homeless shelter, run shopping errands for vulnerable neighbours and last but not least look after an elderly relative who has been quarantined.

The above does not take up all of my time. There are days where I am literally navel gazing my tummy button for hours on end. I was never a great reader but I have forced myself to take up a book. Sue Townsend is my choice: 'The woman who went to bed for a year' is surprisingly funny. I have disciplined myself to read a chapter a day, so should finish by the time enforced lockdown is history.

As an aside, not being able to avail myself to services of my Jamaican barber has resulted in my hair growing unfeasibly high. It will not be long before I have a proper 1970s Afro resembling Michael Jackson on his album cover 'Off the wall'. MJ appears in all his glory on his first solo album with hair to die for (before the numerous nose operations and skin lightening).  Julian Assange could have comfortably holed up in Michael's bonnet for an eternity if the Ecuadorian Embassy in London hadn't opened their doors to him.  

Now on Chapter 2. If I keep this up and Event Management becomes an obsolete a job as a chimney sweep, I may become literary critic. However, reading a chapter a day may not cut it in most literary circles.