First of all Winnie, the Toff’s hero. I take a more Distant Relative approach to this – the Royal family are Welfs, Winnie was one of Them and there was a lot of theatre in WW2, it was, like WW1, entirely unnecessary and contrived, a killing mechanism to cull the plebs. The derring-do warrior class loved the bonhomie and wartime music, the airraid sirens etc.
A total bloody waste of human life and Churchill had a large responsibility in that.
Now to the Mogg. To Blocked Dwarf, he’d most likely be a bete noir because BD has a mental blockage over the simple principle of a country determining its own future dealings, let alone the little matter of a referendum result.
To many of us though, the Mogg is the best pollie available at Westminster, with cross-party appeal and I’ve seen enough of him taking it up to the CINOs that at a minimum, he is a brave person.
But bravery can have and is always helped by a bit of eccentricity, of madness – I’m a huge fan of eccentricity.
We do have that in this country to a greater or lesser extent and it helps a person or even a nation cope.
That’s why, when the civil war against the Muslim comes, it’s going to be bloody and the Muslim won’t know what hit him – unless of course the numbers are hugely unbalanced in their favour. The people of this nation have always been known for being way too soft and confrontation-avoidance but then they snap.
Interestingly or not, I had such a moment at 2:46 a.m. this morning. At that moment, in the middle of my midnight to 6 a.m. rest and recuperation session caleld sleep, an absolute necessity now in my condition, I was woken by some stupid cow belting on the door down the corridor. I told her to stop her cacophony, that there was a rule in this house and all residents had agreed to it.
That’s when she said, ‘No I’m not going to stop,’ and redoubled her belting on his door.
Now I’m not well and there were two choices – manhandle the bint downstairs and throw her out or go back inside and wait for her to knock herself out.
I did the latter and she did knock herself out, ran herself down like a battery in a toy and I realized just how vulnerable I am between midnight and 6. The veneer of civility wears thin and the spectre of domestic violence raises its ugly head.
I confess that it’s been so long since I lived with a woman that I’ve become a bit, say, idealistic about the better examples of the species, something intensified by a certain lady I am in correspondence with, who is the goods.
That’s why, when that stupid cow as I confess I called her started with her mindless belting on the door down the corridor, I did not react as a gentleman, although I otherwise remained polite.
And of course, memories of women’s obtuseness and bloodyminded pursuit of the wrong thing, their utter wrongheadedness when they get on their high horse, that terrier quality in Woman, came flooding back and strategic withdrawal seemed best in case I did something I’d regret.
Which brings me to one of Woman’s best qualities – that bloodymindedness applied in pursuit of a good aim, a constructive, not destructive, aim. An aim such as her partner and her. And she is without peer in that respect. I’d probably get along with that woman in the corridor, were it not that it was 2:46 a.m. and I’d been asleep.
It also brings me to the two limiting factors in my life. The first is my upbringing, that a man treats a woman in a gallant manner or not at all – that was drummed into me from childhood and the Mogg certainly has that too.
The second is this God person and I respectfully disagree with Mudplugger on this. Every time I’m about to escalate something, to go to excess, that limiting factor kicks in strongly, that guardian angel [or weird voices in my head if Mudplugger prefers] and I back off, better for everyone’s health in general.
Which brings me to the Toff. She has Womanhood in full measure – in all its splendour, in all its utter horror, and she has that mindless inferiority complex too, that “women can do anything a man can do” thing in excess.
On a blog like this, designed for such a thing,I would tear that apart but in real life, were I with the Toff, attending to the lady in the hope of her eventual favours, I’d just ignore it and give her a nice time, try to make her happy.
Which is where my ex-gf kicks in [and we still converse now] and her admonition to me still rings in the ears years later, and I paraphrase here – never descend to a woman’s level when she’s dropped into that impossible state, just stay above it with an available pair of arms, because that’s what she will eventually require.
The Toff, I can imagine, would be a near impossible person to live with and yet, is that not a two-way street? She might see something in us which she needs and can lean on, so why not provide it and be useful?
Interestingly, she’s not the only woman who finds the Mogg “dishy” – his reaction to her is amusing. I also watched him on HIGNFY with Victoria Coren chairing and she simply turned to him and said she found him very attractive, at which Paul Merton said shall we all just shuffle off now and leave them to it? LOL.
At 04:15 now this Sunday morning, just before another attempt at sleep, those were my parting thoughts. Yours?