Who Won the Week (28 February 2021)

In response to Fandango’s Who Won the Week post, I have been looking at my own newsfeeds.

I mentioned in passing that I was having trouble finding these stories at the moment, and then, lo and behold, I came across a story early on in the week that straight away, I knew I wanted to talk about. This one is mega-close to my heart, I shall explain why at the end.

Two women went to the police. One of them claimed to have been raped, the other sexually assaulted, in the same incident with the same guy. I haven’t a clue of the details beyond that, but they’re not relevant to my post.

The police, however, did investigate the allegations, so I’m happy that they know what happened. Well, as much as any third-party can know.

And, at this point, I’m thinking, try the guy, if he’s found guilty, hang, draw and quarter him for all I care.

But the police drop the case. They’ll do that, here. They play the odds, and if they think that there’s a reasonable chance that they’ll lose, they won’t even attempt the case. I guess that is reasonable because trials are expensive to stage. but at the same time… convictions for rape in the UK are at an all-time low, a statistic which is, at best, very suspicious.

Anyway, back to my story. The guy has all charges against him dropped. As far as the law is concerned, he is a model citizen.

These women then take to social media, repeating their allegations and naming and shaming the man in question.

Bear in mind, at this point, the guy has not been found guilty of any crime. Fully aware of the damage caused by being labelled a rapist, he sues.

And he wins.

In what I think was a very reasonable outcome, the women can repeat their allegations as much as they want, but they are not allowed to asociate the man with them.

My link today contains a video in which the two women are interviewed by a journalist. They are clearly emotional and sound very plausible, but… until the case goes to a trial, when everything relevant is teased out, who is to say? If we take their story at face value, this guy loses his liberty. I’d like to think we performed some due-diligence first.

I must admit, I have a vested interest here. I was once accused of child abuse by my daughter, who was aged fifteen. The allegation was unfounded, I was never even interviewed by police, let alone charged or convicted. But this is the reason my daughter and I are estranged now. She dismisses it as “I didn’t want to live there any more”, I went on to have a stroke six months later. That’s quite a high price to pay, don’t you think? She might argue that her actions didn’t cause anything, but would they have helped?

So, my winner this week is this chap, who shall quite rightly remain anonymous. I would have done the same.


Life through the Lens (28 February 2021)

When my eyesight was still good, I was a bit of an amateur photographer. This is one of mine.

image showing a silhouette of a camera

This was a cave we visited in Porto Cristo, Mallorca.

The Race to the Bottom

inspired by Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC) of 28 February 2021, sanguine.

As he sanguinely followed convention,
Captain stood on the bridge to attention,
With his stiff upper lip,
He went down with his ship.
As he, stoic, began his descention!

Was scurrying for me dectionary here. Apparently, sanguinely is a bona fide adverb. but the less said about descention, the better!

Oh, and, silly bastard…

Fool’s Gold

inspired by Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC) of 27 February 2021, moratorium.

Got Too big for his boots, he misspoke,
All his clients withdrew at a stroke,
And their swift moratorium,
Did curtail his emporium,
And at last the poor chap went flat broke.

This one probably needs some explanation for my non-UK readers.

Way back in the 80s there was a guy called Gerald Ratner. He was a very successful jeweller, specialised in selling cheap-and-cheerful, tacky jewellery to the public. He had a string of shops right up and down the UK.

As a sought-after after-dinner speaker, Ratner got up at a speech one night in 1991 and described his merchandise as “total crap”. Which, in fairness, it probably was. However the story got out , the tabloids loved it, and the public took it to heart and stopped buying from him. It took a few years but the chain eventually folded, thanks to these comments.

Ratner himself, though, was far from broke. After jewellery, he moved into fitness clubs, which were just becoming popular, and made his millions, this time more quietly, all over again.

The Loser?

for the Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge of 27 February 2021, magnificent. Also, I saw that there was a challenge over on MindloveMisery’s Menagerie to come up with a limerick on any subject, so I guess this fits that, too.

A magnificent merchant from Fife,
Has gone and run off with my wife,
But we’ll see, in divorce court,
I’ll make sure she gets nought,
But that poor sod’s gonna get life!

Father of the Nation

For KK’s Flashback Track Friday prompt.

Having brokered career in law,
Let it go,
I could see things were unfair,
Let if go.

When the odds against were stacked,
Let it go,
I could see I had to act,
Let it go.

Took away my liberty,
Let it go,
When you threw away the key,
Let it go.

World expected to forget,
Let it go,
But I come back stronger, yet.
Let it go.

For all those years, neglected,
Let it go,
Yet released and then elected,
Let it go.

When I gained emancipation,
Let it go,
Became the Father of the Nation,
Let it go.

The thing I liked most about Nelson Mandela was the “truth and reconciliation” aspect. That he could turn around and say “despite all the evil you have done, my priority is to clean up the mess”. I think it shows the sign of a great man, this ability to see the big picture, and not to sweat the small stuff. People, South Africa of today, many other countries, could learn from this. Instead of which, they see no further than “retribution”.

I found this prompt quite difficult, because I tend to latch onto a particular viewpoint, rather than onto a person. Plus, I think we all come with flaws. My most influential politician, I agree with them on many issues, but not on all.

Just to illustrate my point about it being the issue rather than the person, I’ll include one of my favourite anti-apartheid anthems. I think the struggle against apartheid will undoubtedly be the greatest victory of my life, and while Nelson was probably the single, most important individual in that struggle, that we, as a collective, changed their society into something more fair is a much bigger thing.

The Candidate

inspired by Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC) of 26 February 2021, staunch.

Got so fed up, he stood for election,
From his mum, got the greatest affection,
She was advocate staunch
She was there at his launch,
But from everyone else, got rejection.

Hard Times

Inspired by Paula’s Thursday Inspo #97, where she prompts with this image:.

He banged the door shut, then climbed into the cab. “Where to next?”, said Jack. His colleague picked up a clipboard, and tutted. “D’oh. They haven’t filled it in properly. It just says ‘Trumpton’ here”.

“Trumpton? Here’ let’s have a look.” Jack motioned for the clipboard. “Hmmm…”, he continued, “There’s a phone number here. Tell you what, let’s drive to Trumpton and give them a bell to find out exactly where they are.” He started the engine. He didn’t mind, really. It was a nice day, and he liked driving around the county. Life could be a lot worse than delivering for Cuthbert’s Furniture.

They wound their way along country lanes, through the picturesque Camberwick Green, with its windmill, and through Chigley. Past the station, where they saw the train pulling out. Oh, yes, it could be worse.

They arrived at Trumpton, parked up by the fire station, and Jack dialled the number. After an inordinate amount of time – it felt like they’d had to walk through the whole house to get to the phone – a man answered. “Trumpton?”, he said. He was momentarily confused. Of course, this was Trumpton, they had just driven here!

With all the tact he could muster, Jack responded. “Cuthbert’s Furniture here, sir. We have a delivery and were asked to call this number.”

“Right-ho. Bring it round. Front entrance. I’ll come down and meet you.”

Round, where? The man obviously assumed that Jack knew. But he couldn’t hide his ignorance any longer.

“Sorry, sir, who am I speaking to? And, we don’t have an address here, so I was hoping you could tell us where to deliver it?”

“Trumpton.” Then, realising that the conversation might last some time, he added “I’m Lord Trumpton. You’re delivering to me at Trumpton Manor. Do you know it?”

At last, the penny dropped. Jack had, after all, lived in the area his whole life. He had often driven past the manor and imagined the splendours that lay inside. And five minutes later, they were there, right outside a very grand but unkempt entrance on a gravel drive, overgrown with weeds. They were met by an elderly man, looking similarly unkempt. “Crikey, this is bound to be some enormous leather suite that’s a bugger to lift”, thought Jack. His thoughts were interrupted.

“I’m Trumpton”, said the man. “We’ve cleared some space just inside for you, so you can bring it straight in.”

“Very well, sir. We’ll have it in in a jiffy.” Trying to appear efficient, he continued: “come on Fred, look likely.”

Opening the door to the truck, Jack then saw the suite for the first time. It was the gaudiest piece of green Ikea junk that he could have imagined…