Money, money, money

I was saying all day - well, I said it a couple of times - don't know who is going to win the footie tonight, too close to call.
But, about an hour before kick-off, I thought: "Mmm, maybe put a little punt on for interest sakes." This even though I watch football in all its forms whether I have a bet on or not.
So...
...pound on Ronaldo to score first goal and Portugal to win 2-1 - fifty quid coming to Maison de Reidski.
Ah, the wonders of online gambling!
It was actually one of the most enjoyable games of the tournament, too.

First strike - and they're all out!

Following on from yesterday's post, the strike by members of the RMT on the Tube really kicked in today, with services being decimated.
This meant long walk to work this morning and tonight - but hardly the disaster that was made out in the - sadly - much-read Evening Standard. It is the sister paper of the Daily Mail, so what do you expect, but the way in which this crap paper reported it made it out to be nothing less than another blitz.
This boy travelled from south east of the city to north west this morning - and what did this mean for Reidski? A 65 minute journey rather than one that takes 45 minutes! Hardly a problem.
And it was pretty much the same coming home.
We now await further developments.
Last word, for now, on the strike, though. This country's anti-trade union laws make secondary or sympathy action out of the question by those not involved. But when leading lights in other Tube unions - drivers' union ASLEF and the one people join because they know they will never be called upon to take action, TSSA - actively encourage strike breaking and tell members to take the opportunity to get some overtime in, people should know about it.
'er indoors, the boy and Reidski have been having theme dinners during the course of Euro 2004. Mousakka, Latvian potato salad, Croatian steak, Spanish chicken stew and good old fish n chips have all featured so far. Tonight, we will be mostly having Portuguese chicken piri piri - it promises to be hot and it promises to be tasty. I'm off to cook it.
Before I go, though, excitement of the wrong kind entered Reidski's world last night.
Kerfuffle was heard out front. Reidski thought: "Someone's gettting a kicking out there." Reidski runs out. Reidski finds bloke with blood streaming down face. Bloke's english isn't that great - and he was rather dazed and confused - and he hands phone to Reidski. Reidski tells police where to rush to and where to bring ambulance. Reidski thinks he sees muggers down road. Reidski wants to chase them. Reidski thinks better of it. Reidski waits with poor victim. Cops arrive. Ambulance arrives. Reidski gives statement. Reidski get back in his hoose. Reidski finds that the boy has handily placed his cricket bat in hall for defensive purposes (what a sweety the boy is). Reidski goes back to finishing George P Pelecanos's The Sweet Forever. Reidski thinks Pelecanos is one of the greatest crime fiction writers of all time. Reidski also thinks he gets really right wing when crime comes close to home. Reidski hopes that muggers get mugged and get a right kicking. Reidski knows that violence isn't the answer. But Reidski is a complex character and wants the muggers' head stamped on and balls kicked.
Reidski is now off to cook dinner.
Wow, that was one long post.

There is power in a union

The London media is awash with misinformation, downright lies and a massive propaganda exercise, as well their efforts, yet again, to portray our society as one of individuals and not of classes. And why? London Undground workers have told their gaffers that enough is enough and are currently taking part in a 24-hour strike.
Management, for weeks and weeks, new that this strike was threatened, so what did they do? Did they follow the example of Network Rail and put their top executives at work looking for ways to resolve the dispute? Did they get round the negotiating table with the Tube workers' union the RMT? A big fat NO to both questions.
What they did was to ignore all requests for talks and, when they did see that this strike was not an empty threat, they sent in middle management into talks with the union's national officials.
London mayor Ken Livingstone then got involved, inviting members of staff to become scabs - a great leftie is our Ken.
But then, with the strike only hours away, top management suddenly thought that they should make the effort and get into talks with RMT officials. Far too late to call of the strike, however.
And what does our blessed media do - make it out to be a few "militants" in the leadership who have caused the disruption.
While we should never be surprised at such activities by the propaganda arm of the State, we still are. A democratic vote of the members? Pah, mere pawns in the leftie machine. Let's ignore the wishes of the membership and concentrate on the personalities.
The media are wankers. To quote Rab C Nesbitt: "I should know - ah wis wan!"
Good luck to those Underground staff who want to see a decent wage for spending their working life hudnreds of feet under the ground suffering horrific pollution in doing so, for wanting decent rest periods between shifts and in the middle of their shifts, for fighting for a 35-hour week (like that enjoyed by the journos who slag them off) and for taking action to achieve their aims.
I love it when the organised working class show yet again why there is power in a union.

In the beginning part deux

I have no idea why I'm doing this, other than the fact that my mate tnr has been doing it for some time and it looks like fun.
'er indoors can see the downside already though, by just declaring: "I'll never get on the computer now!"
Anyway, this is just a short introduction. The title of the blog is so because my favourite author of the moment (my faves in music, books, films and other thingys changes by the day, by the way) is George P Pelecanos and The Big Blowdown is one of his great novels.
I hope to introduce such topics as my lapsed communism (I may explain the lapsed part some time soon - although I still say "Viva the class struggle) my total respect for and gratitude to one of England's greatest living treasures (Morrissey) and all things music, along with my devotion to the beautiful game (curling - eh, only kidding, its fitba).
Speak to you all (i.e. nobody) soon.

In the beginning...

Please bear with me, this will be up and running sometime very soon, but first I have to go and cook dinner.