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Showing posts with label Britain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Britain. Show all posts

Sunday, 6 February 2022

Whose Worse?

JOHNSON OR TRUMP?

It's all here! Click below:


The PJ depends on reader support. Please help us by contributing financially to Philabooks@yahoo.com via Venmo, or by contributing editorial content via PhiladelphiaJunto@ymail.com.| Established 1976 Richard Carreño, Editor © MMXXII WritersClearinghouse All Rights Reserved.

Wednesday, 21 February 2018

'Horrid' in Buenos Aires





 
 
[Photos by WritersClearinghouse News Service]
Won the War, Lost Their Hearts
By Richard Carreño
Buenos Aires
Argentinians have had a love-hate relationship with the British as long as memory (history) can serve. From invasions in the 19th century (twice) to the awkwardness of a 1982 war over a constellation of rocks (islands) known as the Falklands to the Brits and the Malvinas to the Argies (they lost), tensions have often run high between the two countries. Conversely, nowhere -- aside from in Britain's kissin' cousin, the United States -- has the popular culture of the United Kingdom reigned with such alacrity as in this capital city.
 
It came with the railroads, built by British engineers with funding from the City, London's Wall Street. In a horse-oriented culture, polo followed. English-styled clubs (the sporting Jockey included) soon appeared. As did English-styled fashion with a Savile Row cut, popularized by the city's male elite.

Even a version of Big Ben (the British Tower) rose up, a favorite meeting site for Porteños, as citizens of this port city are known. Until 1982, that is.
It was known as Torre Monumental afterward. Before 1982 Torre de los Ingleses (Tower of the English) is a clock tower located in the barrio (district) of RetiroBuenos AiresArgentina. It is situated in the Plaza Fuerza Aérea Argentina (formerly Plaza Británica) next to the Calle San Martín and Avenida del Libertador. It was a gift from the local British community to the city in commemoration of the centennial of the May Revolution of 1810. [1].
After the Falklands War in 1982, the tower was renamed Torre Monumental, though some still call it Torre des Ingleses.

Tuesday, 7 June 2016

EUROPE ROILS: OUR CORRESPONDENTS OFFER TWO VIEWS

 
FRANCE
MAY DAY
By Liliane L. Clever
[WC News Service]
My flight to Paris from Philadelphia,  on May 4, had plenty of open seats, and French travelers returning home far outnumbered American tourists venturing over.    I arrived on Thursday, May 5, the day of the Ascension and a national holiday in France.  I had completely forgotten that it would be a day off.  The TGV from Lille arrived on time at the CDG station.  It was already packed with families taking the opportunity of a long weekend to travel to Angers or Nantes (when a holiday falls on a Thursday in France it is customary to do ‘le pont’ and take Friday off as well).  So far, so good, and very French.  I had heard of the train strikes and marches throughout the country protesting a new labor reform, but on a day off, all was well.
READ MORE BELOW
BRITAIN
YOU BREXIT, YOU BROKE IT
By R.J. Chellel
[WC New Service]
Although Britain's EU partners disagree on many things, on one thing the twenty-seven heads of government had agreed upon:  that David Cameron's decision to hold a referendum, on 23 June, on Britain remaining the EU, was insane.  In the light of the way the campaign is turning out, he must be bitterly regretting it.  The idea was to 'renegotiate' the terms of Britain's relationship with the other EU countries, then persuade the British people to ratify it.  (Harold Wilson successfully pulled off this trick in 1975.)  This was supposed to silence the Eurosceptic zealots on the right of the Conservative Party and to marginalise the upstart UK Independence Party which has been eating into Conservative support amongst the older, Daily Mail-reading voters as well as the white-van-driving classes.
READ MORE BELOW

Saturday, 10 May 2014

A Hidcote Midsummer Mystery By Alasdair Douglas Reid

A HIDCOTE MIDSUMMER MYSTERY
In this excerpt, the author, English writer Alasdair Douglas Reid, introduces us to his new soon-to-be-published mystery novel,  which The PJ believes is destined to be a run-away best-seller. Think Agatha Christie knocking off a few of the Downton Abbey crowd.  In the mix are a few historical figures such as, for one, that mid-20th century 'mystery man,' Henry "Chips" Channon, none other than pre-War Society's 'Lord of Hosts.' Sit back and enjoy.

 
By ALASDAIR DOUGLAS REID
Friday, 26 June, 1936. A sultry evening in late June is, Classen had been told, the very best time to make Hidcote’s acquaintance. Towards sundown in high summer, in the heart of England , the deepest, darkest heart of England , Hidcote begins drawing the day around itself – manor house, garden, hamlet and tree-lined lane, tight in the fields and the woodlands beyond.
            And this was, indeed, a sultry evening in late June.
            But as he dressed for dinner, Classen felt no inner glow. He felt, in point of fact, uninspired. He wasn’t chafing at the ill-defined nature of his mission. Not entirely, at any rate. He didn’t, in the normal course of events, mind being roped into these sorts of things. There were no other places he was meant to be. He had no other plans.
            Nor did he much mind the fact that he had been given this Spartan little room up under the eaves.
            And yet. If summer is the silence that follows spring, he could feel it all around, he could sense its most profound depths. His reflection in the blistered silver of the mirror they had given him was clouded and ghost-like.
            Downstairs, as he crossed the hall, the air seemed stale, the light uncertain. A stuffed owl stared out at him from a glass case. And he too almost succumbed to gloomy thoughts.
            But then the double doors facing him were thrown open. And he smiled, almost despite himself. The lights were not yet lit; but there was a vividness about the room within. It was all somehow as it ought to be. And it was as if he had stood here a hundred times before. Here they all were: Norah Lindsay and her daughter, Nancy; the polo star Jamie Waterbury; Country Life magazine writer Dorothy Moore; Henry Channon; Mr and Mrs Muir from neighbouring Kiftsgate Court; and, of course, Major Johnston and his assistant, Miss Marsden. Mrs Merrill, too. She was, as promised, on hand to introduce Nicholas Classen to the drawing room for drinks before dinner.

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

A Prince is Born


BOO HOO  
BY JACKIE ATKINS
[SPECIAL TO WRITERSCLEARINGHOUSE NEWS SERVICE]
What is a prince to do if he’s not a soldier?, opined Dr. Andrew Roberts, an NBC News British correspondent. What indeed. More important, why even ponder the new Prince of Cambridge's occupational potential? Like so many of his ancestors, and those of other European monarchies, he might even be one day wind up insane (think George III).
     NBC and it’s progressive cable news affiliate MSNBC have abandoned their endless banter about the one percenters and  talk about inequality, with so much power in the hands of just ta few, in order to present American viewers with laudatory blather about the birth of an ultimate .10 percenter, a  prince and  future king. 
     While CEO’s, captains of major industries and banks, most of whom worked for their wealth and position, are vilified on a non-stop basis,  apparently there can’t be enough adulation and praise about a kid who will inherit one day the Bank of England. Talk about entitlement!

Tuesday, 14 September 2010

Blowing Kisses

Clinton to
Blair SWAK!
By Richard Carreño

[Writers Clearinghouse News Service]
It was almost surreal. On one hand, there was Tony Blair, Britain's most reviled prime minster since Margaret Thatcher. On the other, there was Bill Clinton, America's most beloved BFF in modern times. And there was the amnesic, adoring crowd. In between, there was a new medal on Blair's chest. And a very real check for $100,000 in his pocket. 'Oh,' oozed a suburban reporter next to me.'I feel so sorry for Bill. He's had such a hard day.'

The occassion, Monday night, the 22nd bestowment of Philadelphia's lovebug, the Liberty Medal, was a hugfest arranged by the National Constitution Center, and, under a clear sky and bright lights on Independence Mall, about 500 well-wishers apple-polished Blair as the architect of Middle East peace, the linch-pin of sectarian reconcilation in Northern Ireland, and the something or other -- maybe 'savior,' I think -- of Africa.

It was as if George W. Bush had just joined Jerry Lewis in receiving the French Legion d'Honneur. With Mayor Michael 'A.WOL' Nutter and Ed 'I Take Full Responsibility' Rendell in attendance. It was that kind of crazy.

Blair, 57, on a publicity blitz for his new best-seller, A Journey: My Political Life, was on a high as he good-naturedly quipped with the crowd ('Well, look, I'm sorry about what happened in the past,' he ad-libbed as he looked past the crowd to Independence Hall), praised his countryman Tom Paine, and got down to business, 'the celebration of that great engine of human progress -- liberty, embodied in the US Constitution.'

That kind of schmoozing was the Yank Blair, hardly the Blair who back in the UK faces single-digit popularity and widespread revulsion as W's 'poodle' in supporting the canard of WMD in Saddam's Iraq and, worse, committing British troops to Bush's and Dick Cheney's wicked folly.

What a difference a week makes.

In Dublin, last week, they were throwing eggs and shoes at him.

At The New York Times last week, Maureen Dowd was blowing poison darts. It was 'criminally naive' that Blair and W 'muffed the postwar planning.' 'So the reasoning of the man known in England as Phony Tony and Bliar amounts to this: They had to invade Iraq because Saddam could hypothetically hook up with Al Qaeda.'

In Philadelphia, they were blowing kisses, as Blair waxed affectionate about Liberty with a capital 'L' and laid out his seven-point plan -- shades of Bush, again? --to emancipate with world with Western democracy. 'All people want to be free!' he declared.

It wasn't Winston Churchill's Iron Curtain speech in Fulton, Missouri. Never mind.

American affection for ex- Brit PMs isn't new. Right-wing American politicians have enshrined Churchill for his bold stand against appeasement. (Though they tidily forget that Churchill also introduced the socialistic, communistic, fascistic National Health Service to Britain). And who can't forget Margaret Thatcher for firing Welsh coal miners? Warms your heart, don't it?

But Blair, champion of 'New' Labour, is the darling of the center-left. Like Clinton, who gushed Monday about his enduing friendship with Blair, his wife Cherie, and three children ('We ARE Fami-lee') and the old chestnut of the USA-UK 'special relationship.' 'Since [the Brits] ate Dolly Madison's dinner, our relationship [with the UK] has been all uphill,' Clinton mugged. That spot of bother called the Civil War, in which the Brits supported the Confederacy, wasn't mentioned.

Nor was Iraq. Iran. Afghanistan. Nor W.

Nor the $100,000 prize, which Blair has promised will donated to the Tony Blair Faith Foundation and the Tony Blair Africa Governance Initiative.

'Pretty generous,' said the suburban reporter. Back home, they were calling it 'blood money.'

Wednesday, 1 July 2009

Brtish Press...

Photo: Writers Clearinghouse

... Gets it Right -- Well, Almost

By Richard Carreño
Junto Staff Writer

London.
On the face of it, Britain's, at least, London's newspaper industry is thriving. Strident news hawkers mingle among the throngs in high-density areas like the Strand and Oxford Street distributing the numerous new free-circulation titles that compete vigorously for reader attention. The daily main-streamers, The Times, the Daily Telegraph, The Guardian, and the like, pack news agent stands that overflow, as well, with special interest and international papers.
Like the news cycle itself, currently roiled by the scandal of expense-account gorging by Members of Parliament (many of whom are cohorts of Prime Minister Gordon Brown and the Labour Party), serious papers here are cheeky, irreverent, and free-wheeling -- strictly unlike their sombre, somber, and slavishly serious American counterparts.
'The Guardian would be radical in the U.S. But it's just main stream here,' sums up a reporter friend here, Kit Chellel. Meantime, The Evening Standard has been colourfully revamped as the London Evening Standard, following a bling binge in Florence that launched a new Russian ownership, led by oligarch Alexander Lebedev. And just two weeks ago Alan Rusbridger of The Guardian was trumpeting rosy signs of his paper's revival -- an circulation increase and a national Best Newspaper award.
Amidst this ballyhoo of putative success and growth, however, industry observers report that not all is as sanguine as the flurry of newsprint, brandished by hawkers in the street and by loyal strap-hanging readers in the Underground and on buses, might at initially suggest. First, Lebedev bought The Standard for just £1 -- and, in return, received a debt load in the millions. As far as The Guardian is concerned, yes, the paper won awards -- but for web pages. Dead-tree circulation increase? Just 0.7 percent. Rusbridger also failed to mention that 50 Guardian staffers will be sacked, er, 'made redundant' by year's end.
The impact of media woe has even afflicted the crown jewel of the British news business, the BBC. In the coming months, 49 news reporters will lose their jobs.
If this doom and gloom sounds remarkably similar to the pathetic decline of American main-streamers, particularly in recent, months, you'd be almost right. But probably, for the wrong reasons.
One of several exceptions is The Lawyer, a weekly that friend Kit Chellel works for, published by one of the few media big boys, Centaur Media, that has the City shouting and touting. (The Standard recommends a 'buy').
No wonder, Chellel told me over drinks at the Blackfriar, a pub not far from Fleet Street, where most of the nationals used to be edited. If you want to know about Centaur success, just ask the half-dozen or so reporters laid off from The Lawyer in the last year, Chellel said. He made the cut. He's now one of six staffers still running the paper.
Ultimately, Centaur's true success is attributed to its new-age business model. Free circulation to lawyers with an ever-growing web-site that shoots 50,000 e-mail blasts per day. In contrast, weekly circulation is an anemic 31,000. 'The free web-site is lighthearted and very popular,' Chellel, a former Los Angeles-based freelance for The Independent, told me.
Variants of The Lawyer's business model, principally adhering to free circulation, has now become a staple of the proliferating field of ad-packed daily freebies. They have frothy monikers like City A.M. (not to be confused with The Financial Times), the london paper (not to be confused with the Standard), and, summing up the genre, London Lite (not to be confused with anything). Recent headline: 'My second home is a £30 tent.'
The 'lites' are glib, tightly edited, and are all tabloids -- a form that almost everyone here agrees is the compact format of the future. (The Financial Times and The Telegraph still publish in broadsheet, as do most Nother American quality newspapers).The lites also have another common denominator -- almost all their content is ripped off from the main-streamers, be it print or the BBC. One result: Low overhead.
Another result, according to Dave Rotchelle, an officer of the London Press Club with whom I shared tea, biscuits, and clotted cream recently, is the equally piss-poor quality of the news in the lites. 'That's the really big worry -- the quality of journalism, following pay cuts and layoffs,' said Rotchelle, a news photographer who's also head of the Freelance Branch of 30,000-member strong National Union of Journalists. 'The abundance of newspapers at news agents are deceptive -- many of freebies and others (paid) are shadows of their former selves.'
Like others, Rotchelle is concerned that funding cuts in news gathering will mean a decline in news quality.'Still, others argue that the British press, as opposed to the American newspaper industry, is in a better position to weather the current shockwaves of worldwide recession. For one thing, there are fewer newspapers. The UK has about 35 daily national papers. The US has about 1,500 dailies coast to coast. (Most are local yokels).The result? More people in Britain are reading fewer papers. The no-brainer? Fewer papers+higher circulation = more revenue.
British papers have other lessons to teach their American cousins: Papers need to be leaner. (Two-ton mama Sunday papers are a thing of the past). They need to be more mobile. Instead of fixed satellite bureaux, reporters should be part of a flying squad. Funding shouldn't be spent on redundancies. Why are there 2,000-odd White House reporters? That's ego. Not news.
Lastly, American main-streamers need to learn the most important path to success, another teachable moment thanks to the Brit press: kick-ass journalism. That's what The Telegraph did in breaking the MP scandal story. It takes time. It takes money. It takes commitment.
When the Yanks learn these lessons, American journalism -- both print and Internet -- will be revamped, hopefully retooled to serve the public interest.'The British media is the best in the world. We will get through this,' Dave Rotchelle said.
As for the American media? The jury is still out.
GETTING IT RIGHT
London.
One of the first successful models of the free-circulation tab was Metro, a Swedish chain that in the late 1990's splashed its model of cheeky give-ways from Stockholm to New York -- and Philadelphia.
But not London. The London Evening Standard, then The Evening Standard, pre-empted Metro's intro to London by registering the name before the Stockholm outfit could do so. The Standard then went ahead and introduced its own version of Metro.
Segue to Philadelphia, 1999. Same scenario. Different players. This time, The Philadelphia Inquirer, then owned by Knight-Ridder, passed. Swedish Metro was launched. Knight-Ridder tried to ban its distribution via Septa.
Hello, censorship. Hello, lame-brained main-stream.The Inky never thought a free-model daily like Metro would take off. OK. This one is NOT Brian Tierney's fault!
--RDC