British values

There is a lot about in the UK press these days about the importance of British values and how all immigrants should adopt these values (the list includes a sense of fairplay, justice, dignity and respect).

I have sometimes wondered whether the British are 'hijacking' what are essentially universal human values and calling them 'British' (in fact I still believe there is an element of this involved).

However, something happened recently that made me think: 'Now that's what I call British values because this will not happen in many other countries', i.e., in the fairplay shown by the powers that be, there was something uniquely British.

The background to this is that the Department of Health (DoH) brought in a set of measures to curb the employment opportunities of non EU doctors in the UK National Health Service (NHS) two years ago. This move was challenged by the British Association of Physicians of Indian Origin (BAPIO) in the High Court where they lost. Following this, BAPIO took the case to the Appeals Court, where in a landmark decision, three senior judges found in favour of non-EU doctors.

Not satisfied with this outcome, the Government took the case further, to the House of Lords, the only avenue for judicial review above the Appeals Court in the UK.

The following is taken from the House Of Lords hearing on this issue (on the 30th of April 2008):

''With effect from 1 April 2003 the Immigration Rules were amended to expand a programme introduced in January 2002 and known as the Highly Skilled Migrant Programme (HSMP). The object of the amendment was to facilitate the entry into the country of highly-skilled non-nationals who would be an asset to our economy. …. the HSMP applied to all skilled occupations and was not confined to the medical profession, although the selection criteria were such that most International Medical Graduates (IMGs) would meet them.

(The Department of Health had) concerns that the Highly Skilled Migrant Programme (HSMP) might prove an alternative route for International Medical Graduates to obtain appointments as junior doctors. So the Department proposed that the HSMP be restricted…, so as to exclude IMGs at postgraduate training level from the HSMP. An amendment of the Immigration Rules to this effect could not, however, be agreed with the Home Office, with whom the responsibility lay for amending the Rules. So the Department (of Health) decided to take action on its own. It did so by issuing, on 13 April 2006, the guidance attacked in these proceedings.

To speak of the guidance being “issued” is to suggest a degree of official formality which was notably lacking. It appears that the guidance was published on the NHS Employers’ website in terms approved by the Department, but no official draft, record or statement of the guidance has been placed before the House, which has instead been referred to an e-mail beginning “Dear All” sent by an official of the Immigration and Nationality Directorate of the Home Office in response to confusion caused by some earlier communication. It is for others to judge whether this is a satisfactory way of publishing important governmental decisions with a direct effect on people’s lives.

Until April 2006 the Government had encouraged IMGs with HSMP status to come to this country in the expectation that they would get work in the National Health Service. The aim was that these skilled migrants would help staff the Health Service. In fact, for some years, it must have been clear to the Government that, due to a change which it had itself initiated soon after taking office, from about 2005 there would be an increased supply of home-grown medical graduates. In order to try to provide jobs in the National Health Service for these home-grown doctors, in April 2006 the Government issued advice to NHS trusts in England. (Similar advice was issued for Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland.) The advice was intended to free up places by making it impossible in practice for IMGs with HSMP status, including those already in this country, to obtain appropriate NHS posts. In my view, that was unfair to the IMGs with HSMP status in this country because the Government thereby dashed the legitimate expectations which it had fostered and on which they had acted. The advice was accordingly unlawful.

Obviously, the Government could have achieved its objective if it had amended the Immigration Rules. For various reasons, it chose not to do so. But, if it had chosen to try to amend the Rules, it would have required to pay the political price of subjecting the proposed change, and its highly damaging effects on the IMGs with HSMP status in this country, to the scrutiny of Parliament.

I would dismiss this appeal (by the Department of Health) with costs.''

So you see, there is a certain 'British sense of fairplay'

On a larger scale

this confirms what my father always says:

'If Truth is on your side ...

you have nothing to worry,

because sooner or later

it will out'

There is still hope -

thanks to

the House of Lords (in this instance)

and my father (always)

Where do jokes come from?

According to MultiVac (Asimov's brainchild) jokes are part of an elaborate alien experiment and all humans are lab rats. Apparently this is why we cannot remember where jokes come from and we are unable to make our own.

But I have tried:

Q: what did Arial whisper to Times New Roman?
A: I am font of you

But then MultiVac also says puns are all that we are capable of and they don't count

Hmmmmmm.......

Thank you Mr Eliot

I said to my soul, be still,
and wait without hope
for hope would be hope for the wrong thing;
wait without love
for love would be love for the wrong thing;
there is yet faith
but faith and love and hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought,
for you are not ready for thought:
so darkness shall be the light
and the stillness the dancing.

Heard this on Radio 4 the other day.
The words resonate
with a special meaning
in my current state of mind:

wait without thought
for you are not ready for thought

Very likely that I am frantically
carving out a mental escape hatch,
a slick denial chute perhaps

but I don't care
the words are soothing
like my mother's hand
on my feverish brow
(a lifetime[?] ago):

wait without thought
for you are not ready for thought

what's my age again?

As I squeeze a little multicoloured
cylinder of toothpaste on to my
sleepy brush yet again I wonder
why I bother with days and
years and birthdays when
it would be simpler to just measure
my age in toothpaste - after all
I use the same amount each day
and replace the tube religiously
without fail - I am my own
timekeeper - my mathematically
inclined neurons (a minority) whisper
my age - one hundred and ten
tubes of toothpaste - accurate
- down to the last squeeze

ever wondered ...

whether Gabriel García Márquez would have been as reknowned an author had he chosen to call his best seller 'Love in the time of profuse watery diarrhoea'?
Somehow does not have the same ring to it, I think
Makes me want to slap people who spout philosophical nonsense like 'what's in a name?'

raindrops on...

depends, really

I remember those never ending monsoon rains
not anything like the half-hearted attempts
people call rain in this part of the world-
-no more than a spoilt child's sniffles

monsoon rain overwhelms you
drowns your thoughts
reminds you of the sheer
recklessness of nature
at its arrogant best

as the wind rattles the exquisitely
carved solid teakwood
windows of huge art deco houses

thunder (g)rumbles like an old
man - arthritic and always complaining
about the weather
about being dragged out into
the cold wet sky
but nonetheless dazzles
with his unpredictable flashes of brilliance

little rivulets rush down the road
like a bunch of chattering boys
when school is out
they push and shove and
run up the embankments
carefully crafted to keep
low lying houses dry - why
do people bother

the milling crowd under
black umbrellas lean into
the rain as if the weight of
their communal shoulders would
push away the clouds
and the column of water
- a solid sheet curtain
blotting out all senses
filling the void with
an onomatopoeia
yet to be coined

and when finally
nature has had it's say
when the last rivulets have
bubbled off to hide
in the undergrowth

the sun comes out
and lights up the little
droplets clinging on
to the dark green
fleshy leaves and
the unashamedly yellow
flowers

raindrops on...
















Thanks to photocheese for bringing back a childhood memory

part 6: parting shots

post tenancy check
empty as expected

but...

she says last night
(with a little laugh-
-devoid of mirth)

she expected
in an irrational
(yet entirely convincing) moment
that you may
still be around
smiling as she opens the door

you don't miss
even your parting shots
hit the nerve
spot on

part 5: teflon

'hold on tight' she said
'please hold tight' she pleaded

she was scared, but
you had other plans

you teflon coated
little troublemaker

We are NOT amused

but we will
let you off

Just This Once

part 4: little blue box

her too small hand
in a too large yellow glove
she scoops it up
while I look away
and then we (she) improvise(s)
there is the little blue box


I cannot look
but I do

I cannot see
but I do

I cannot hold (the box)
but I do


the bag crinkles
the blue box
is light
- unbearably so

hailstorm outside
my heart feels
right at home

I place the little
(unbearably light)
blue box
in the back seat


I cannot look
but I do

I cannot see
but I do

I cannot hold (my tears)
but I do


The box nestles in
a corner
without a peep
without a crinkle

I need Michael Stipe
his blue tattoo
just right for

the (our (my))
little blue box


It spends half an hour
in my right pocket
with my hand around it
then
I hand it over


I can look
but I don't

I can see
but I don't

I can feel
but I don't

part 3: odds 'n ends

I love her
so I tell her last night

'Remember,
when you wake up tomorrow
it was NOT a dream
it really happened
so DON'T think it was a dream
because if you do
even for a brief moment
the pain will sneak up on you
and stab you in the heart.

So remember my sweet
it was not a dream
it really happened
don't let that heartless b*****d
sneak up on you'

on our way out today
- our second memorable journey
in four weeks
she sings along with Michael Stipe
about having a 'bad day'

my heart breaks
it must contain
rather a lot of
rising damp

so I do the old deep breath-look up
and some rapid eye movement
(Mr Stipe approves)
and it works again

I'm hugging
a grenade
in mid-explosion
the shrapnel loves me
makes me feel alive

part 2: who am I kidding

pain is white
and searing
and vengeful
and cruel
and it hits below the belt
- always
and it hurts
so much

it's like when you are walking about in the dark
on a cold morning
and then you stub your toe
for a moment

you

are

suspended

in a world of your own

and then it's a right hook
and a left
and a right again
you are reeling
but pain doesn't care
it holds nothing back
lets it rip
leaves you bloody and bruised
but it doesn't stop

and then ...
a turning point
you see why

so you take it on the chin
and you join in
your mind is a little Ed Norton
you are your own fight club
you like pain
it was all a misunderstanding
pain is your friend
long lost friend

you realise
you have a war (cry) in you
just waiting

this is nothing new
I have always liked picking at my scabs
just to see how much they'll bleed

that's why
today morning
after the freak hailstorm
I opened the little blue box
to look inside

didn't make me feel any better

I just like picking at my scabs

part 1: lest we forget

New Years day

'Hello' you say. We listen intently - did we hear something? yes we did. Excited, but not sure. So we listen again.

'Hello' you say again. This time we are sure we heard you... we think.
What do we do? It is the New Year - time for new beginnings. So we are happy - and excited - and in love. With each other - and with you

But we want to be sure...just in case. So we ask uncle Google. He tells us where to go. We buy the latest digital equipment - just to listen again - to your little 'Hello'

Excited, proud, happy, in love - pure magic

We cannot hold back - I want to buy a whole news channel, maybe a satellite too - like old man Murdoch. Then I can tell the whole world - that you said 'Hello'

6 day later...

I catch myself talking to you - a tentative little (thought) wave in your direction, as if I am anxious. Will you like me? I feel like a schoolboy on the first day of school - I want to be friends - with a certain little someone

two weeks now

you look so funny. So I decide what to call you. Makes perfect sense - whether you like it or not. We have decided. So there!

I have new targets now. Get in shape - I have only a few months to do it.

I start cooking - can you imagine?! Maybe you can - of course you can. Sorry I sounded patronising there for a minute.

I ask her what you are upto each morning. She says you are kinda shy - not much of a talker, it seems.
That's OK. I know someone like that. Take your time.

last weekend

I tell her that you will like it here. We are easy going - well she is, at least. Also, she is very very beautiful. Oh yes. You will like it here.

yesterday

I didn't ring her - to ask after you. I don't think you liked that. Yes I am sure that's why. That's why... you did what you did
(Hey, this is strange. Why has the screen gone blurry?
LOOK UP! LOOK UP! Let it all roll back in.
REM
Deeeeeeeeeeeep Breath
There. That did the trick)

What was I saying?
Ah yes.
So you have decided to leave - for now.
That's OK
We can wait
Take your time - all in your own time
I know you are kinda shy

Today

We liked your short visit
four weeks went flying past
I should have talked to you more
didn't really get to know you
But that's OK
There is still time
She says you've gone back
because you forgot to pack something
- something you needed badly
Before you come and say 'hello' again

You know what
We know you now
so we will be ready
and this time round
once you say 'hello'
there will be no going back
so make sure you pack everything you need

there is a little unplugged socket in me now
and I know what slots in perfectly

so like I said
(I have an annoying habit of repeating myself)

just come back