Do you too share the sense that the country lurches from one crisis to the next almost on a weekly basis? Only this week we discover that the NHS, still reeling from recent scandals, now has to repair its much criticised 111 service following the withdrawal of a key contractor.
The contractor giving up the ghost is NHS Direct…no…I could not work that one out either? It seems they have reduced the process of calling a doctor to that of 118 118 and if you do get through to actually see a doctor you can expect them to be unable to speak English sat in a tepee.
If only bunking off school all those years ago had been this easy?
“Mum, I tried to call the school but there was nobody there!”
So who’s to blame for the shambles that the NHS appears to the outside eye these days? Predictably nobody actually seems to want to admit to any partial responsibility here; maybe it has become far too big a beast to actually tackle whilst a very comfortable gravy train for some.
There have been some very courageous whistle blowers that have suffered immense personal loss as a result of doing the right thing to alert those that should know of serious failings but you fear they would have got a fairer hearing in Stalin’s Russia.
Successive governments have played with the NHS like a political football and each change of administration sees a “new” approach foisted on it and more chaos. Exorbitantly paid executives deny all culpability and, if the storms get too severe, they vanish clutching eye watering severance packages.
Some Trusts are on the verge of bankruptcy, mainly the legacy of the ridiculous Private Finance Initiative (PFI) – introduced by New Labour, vilified by the Tories and still persevered with by the Coalition – this has left those trusts saddled with unmanageable debts, facing the only option of closing services and sacking nurses.
In the end Ordinary Joe carries the can and yet the NHS symbolises only a part of our society which has become driven by greed and short term personal gain for the privileged few at the expense of the masses.
Dancing in the Dark?
Shafting us all again very soon will be the energy companies, crying the poor tale whilst hiking up the bills once more just in time for winter; when did you ever see bills actually come down? Politicians will cry foul, Cameron will do his best to look pained and sincere, but your bills are going up again like it or not.
The unpalatable fact is that part of the increases will be attributed to the so called green deal, paying for windmills that produce barely a fart of electricity and solar panels capable of barely brewing a cuppa. Someone, somewhere is making a fortune from all of this and largely out of me and you.
Centrica, owners of British Gas, have come up with an idea so far trialled in the US, that offers free electricity to users on a nominated weekend day. The theory is that this lightens the load from the peak usage days midweek and it appears to have had success in its trials.
Something for nothing is always good but it relies on consumers being savvy. Expect long queues for the bathroom and weekends spent cooking for the week ahead: back to the future?
Boys Love Toys
Governments often get elected on the promise to meddle less but they do love spending on big signature projects and then telling us all how fabulous these have been.
Recently it was claimed that there had been a £10bn benefit to the economy from the Olympics (I thought it cost us £10bn? Ed) but try telling that to local grass roots sports organisations that will see funding cut as part of the deficit reduction. Only this week a local pool closed in South Elmsall, the council unable to fund its repairs…some legacy.
Spending on large infrastructure projects we are told will kick start the economy so the Government is hell bent on HS2 at a projected cost of £32bn by the time it opens in around 20 years time. Using the same logic that the Olympics proved, one can comfortably triple the final cost and yet this is a project that will blight many lives and has some heavyweight objections to many of the claimed tangible benefits.
Do we really need to meet face to face to do business these days? Try to picture how we communicated some twenty years ago and then count the advances in mobile technology to today. How can anyone guess where we will be in another twenty years so why put all your chips down on what is only a faster version of what we have now?
And why on Earth do we need to obliterate the countryside to buy a new train set for the privileged which will probably stop when the leaves fall on the line come autumn. The best counter argument I have read so far supports a far cheaper option of bringing up to standard regional lines connecting major Northern cities such as Leeds and Manchester.
In doing so this benefits satellite cities and towns and, in some small way, may re-balance a dangerously London-centric economy much quicker than HS2. However, I fear that this is not about any rebalancing act merely a grandiose project that will ultimately only benefit a tiny minority. Simply put, pound for pound it is extremely poor value.
Kid Free Zone…Please!
I got a call out of the blue the other day from one of my godsons’ mums; well actually this call could have been timed to the nano-second as it’s now the school holidays. I did not choose to become a godfather, can see little point in it and confess to broadly being able to tolerate kids only marginally better than a plague of locusts.
I don’t get them and they don’t get me – simple enough? And so the conversation went along the following lines:
“Now you’ve not seen him in a few months” said mum, hopeful that this was some form of incentive to want to see young Sam.
“True enough but last time I did he said “hi” and pissed off for the rest of the day” I countered, feigning some form of loss which was not strictly the case as it was a pretty good garden party and who wanted kids impeding the path to the beer fridge.
“Why not bring Harry (another kid with the dubious honour of me as godfather) then you can spend a whole day with both of them?” This was hardly looking like the deal of the century.
“What do I do with them?” I pleaded, not keen to waste valuable beer money on keeping kids “amused”. Sensing I was not exactly up for it but never one to be defeated, mum pulled her ace out of the cap offering all three of hers plus Harry as a buy one get three extra.
I hope she has lost my number and even smiled when I saw her village had been flooded the other night hoping that they would be cut off till at least September. Yes, I would have made a lousy dad!
Sky Drones
George Bush used them and now Rupert Murdoch is bombing our senses with his chosen few “commentating” on the current Ashes series. Whilst most of these ex-players had wonderful on-field talents, behind a microphone is not where they should now be and, put simply, the coverage is being dumbed down.
Botham is woeful, mumbling incoherently most of the time and still relying on the audience thinking it humorous to listen to his socialising anecdotes. Such a free flowing, off the cuff cricketer now a confused old plodder in the box. Few are there for their commentary skills but as an apparent rite of passage post retirement.
And if you really wondered why young kids are turned off cricket just watch the highlights package; can you really see youngsters dropping their Nintendos to listen to Mega Drone Bob Willis? Time to review that subscription methinks.
And Finally!
This week Panorama disclosed that online dating may not be all its cracked up to be. The programme suggested that certain sites rely on idiots believing that dozens of Michelle Pfeiffer lookalikes live within a stones throw of them and are available at the drop of a hat; all you have to do is sign on the dotted line.
The reality is that the stunning woman offering all sorts of entertainment to you is most likely a well hung seven foot Nigerian doing a night job to supplement his daytime income flogging solar panels. Around every corner somebody is waiting to shaft us so it would seem…but it wont be Michelle Pfeiifer.
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