Willy Poole www.willypoole.com

There was a man on the wireless this morning, worrying about this country becoming a Police State. This idea is favoured by the control freaks who are making such a mess of Little Britain and what better time to consider the fragile state of personal liberties in this country than around the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. We have a government that has mooted the idea of the forced detention of people with a ‘personality problem’ this would apply to just about every damned politician in the country. The pursuit of power over their fellow mortals sends them mad with lust and they start biting the carpet and frothing at the mouth. Now we hear that the government is seeking the power to arrest and detain ‘terrorists’ indefinitely and without charge or trial. So what is a terrorist? Whoever the Home Secretary decides he / she might be. Who decides when to lock him / her up and when to let her / him go? Why the Home Secretary of course. What about Habeas Corpus? Well, it’s in Latin innit? And modern Home Secretaries can barely speak English. Let us not forget the immortal words of ‘Gorbals Mick’ after he had read the Parliament Act – roughly translated into English it came out as – ‘I don’t know what it means either, I’m only here to read it’.

Our revered Home Secretary (no, I will not refer to him as ‘Wing Nuts’) wants powers that would enable him to accuse anyone of terrorism (he can’t tell us why – security) and make almost anything he wants to into a terrorist offence (same again). This is the exact same principle that the Gestapo and the NKVD worked on – if you were not guilty you would not have been arrested and because you have been arrested you must be guilty. This was the start of the paths that lead to Treblinka and the Kolyma gold mines. And talking about ‘personality disorders’ have you ever studied Blair’s eyes? The eye is the window of the soul and if Blair was a horse or a dog, you would be a fool to buy him.

‘Decoupling’ is the buzz word of the moment amongst farmers and it is not surprising if many of them are suspicious of it. They have learnt to be suspicious of anything by DEFRA out of Brussels. Ever since the Hitler War farmers have been encouraged to grow as much food as possible to feed the hungry populace. This was the right idea when U Boat packs nearly succeeded in cutting our supply lines and the ‘War Ag’ forced farmers to plough up every possible and sometimes impossible piece of land. Times have changed, the public is no longer hungry and farmers are no longer seen as heroic figures; quite the reverse indeed. Yet it is wrong to blame farmers. They have still been encouraged and paid to grow food, which nobody wants, because it can be obtained much cheaper from abroad. It is a strange anomaly when it is cheaper to fly in those ghastly green beans, so beloved of hotel chains and caterers, from Africa than it is to buy them in this country. It is small wonder that farming in this country has been through a bad patch and something like 30,000 people ceased working on the land last year. But the land must still be looked after - the ‘patchwork quilt’ that comprises the present English countryside is almost entirely man made and it follows that it will have to be maintained and repaired by men. This, as I understand it, is the purpose of ‘decoupling’. It seems to mean that in future farmers will not be subsidised to produce expensive food – they will be paid for keeping our countryside in good shape and good heart. This seems fair - the maintenance of the countryside is skilled work and the ‘labourer is worthy of his hire’. I have had farmers say to me that they do not want to become ‘damned park keepers’, but surely it is better to be paid to stay on your own land and maintain it, than it is to take the huff and sugar off into the great unknown. Of course this will mean a change of heart and will. Farming will become more extensive and will revert to the ‘dog and stick’ farming of the 1920s and 30s. The small mixed family farms which recently seemed headed for extinction, may well be saved. As in every change there will be losers. There will be fewer jobs in agriculture and this will apply not only to farm workers but to those in the ancillary industries. The farmer of the future may still need good dogs and a good stick, but he is unlikely to shell out for computerised, state of the art, machinery

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NEWCASTLE JOURNAL 10.3.05

Does anybody out there remember who Hitler was? I suspect that the older generation will remember that evil man with a shudder. They will remember him as a Fascist butcher who was responsible for a World War and the slaughter of millions of innocent people. I have never quite understood why Hitler continues to be remembered (quite rightly) as the epitome of horror, whilst the memory of Stalin as an even worse monster, who killed and enslaved far more innocent people than Hitler, has been virtually airbrushed from recent history. The only reason I can think of is that Hitler was officially classed as a ‘Fascist’, whilst Stalin was a ‘Marxist’ and there are still Marxists who are alive and well and many of them sit in positions of power and influence in the present government of this increasingly wretched country. I have never been able to distinguish between Marxism and Fascism – they are both whelps from the same bitch of perverted Socialism. Although now I come to think of it, that is a tautology – Socialism itself is a perversion. But back to Hitler – as the youth of today is not taught any history, many of them have not heard the name, or are only vaguely aware of it and probably think that he played on the wing for Accrington Stanley at one time. You may wonder why I am harping on about the past – after all what relevance can Hitler have for us today? In the past in this column I have mentioned the Civil Contingencies Bill, which slipped into law almost unnoticed. This law (as I understand it) would allow the existing laws of this country and the rights that go with them to be set aside in the fight against terrorism. Quite right some might say – got to fight fire with fire – can’t let terrorists get away with it – got to jump on the buggers and squash ‘em. I have some sympathy with this point of view. What worries me is the question of the definition ‘terrorism’ and ‘terrorist’ and who does the defining? The answer to that is – the government. Oh you say but it can’t apply to me – I am a law abiding citizen. As I understand the CT Act it is a convenient ‘catch all’. Under it almost anyone can qualify as a terrorist. Have a look at clause 22 (I think it is) under this picking a daffodil or shooting a corbie could be interpreted as a terrorist act (‘the destruction of plant or animal life’). The Civil Contingencies Act is in fact and ‘Empowerment Act’ similar to the one that Hitler brought in when he took power in Germany. If Mr Clarke’s ‘Terrorism Act’ became law and the polis even suspected you of picking a primrose, you could be banged up indefinitely without charge, trial or any legal redress. They can’t do that, you might say, I’ve got my constitutional rights – Habeas Corpus and all that. I would not bet on any of that, if I were you. Habeas Corpus is officially toast. I know this because an acquaintance rang up the House of Lords Record Office (no less) and was informed that most of Habeas Corpus had been repealed and that it was irrelevant anyway. To the best of my knowledge and belief that is quite untrue, but if that is the perception in the House of Lords, then God help us all.

The next thing that Hitler did was to remove all constitutional laws. I hear people say that we have no constitution in this country – well not a written one anyway. That is quite true, but there are constitutional laws laid down in the Act of Settlement of 1700, which goes on to say that these laws are – “The Birthright of the British people and are to be upheld by the Sovereign and Ministers”. I understand that when a person becomes an MP, he/she swears an oath of loyalty to the sovereign and the constitution. There seems to be an awful lot of cheaply regarded oaths sworn.

Another thing that Hitler did was to ban Hunting, just like Mr Blair. Mr Blair pushed this bill through with the use of the Parliament Act. You may not think this very important to you but it is. The Countryside Alliance has mounted a legal challenge to this use of the Act, which is now going to the House of Lords. So what you may say - ‘sonly Hunting innit?’ It is much more important than that. Should the appeal fail, it would give this government the green light to use the Parliament Act for anything it wanted. This would effectively mean that the Executive could get any act it wanted on the books, by by-passing the Lords. This would effectively destroy our constitution. Under Regina v. Thistlewood 1820 (I think) to destroy the Constitution is Treason.

Heil Blair!

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NEWCASTLE JOURNAL 17.2.05

Now, I expect that most of you think of this (if indeed you think of it at all) as just a column. You are wrong. According to my friend, the retired Rural Dean, it is a ‘Secular Sermon’ – so there. I have to confess that I have never thought of my scribblings in that way, but should it so happen that after reading them, you feel a better and more righteous person, then all I can say that I am glad to have been of some small spiritual service to you. However should you agree with most of the feedback that I get that this column is just a ‘load of slather and sh*te’ you can always cut it into squares and hang it up in the netty. Either way I shall have been of service to you – both in soul and body.

Yes, I was on the Quayside last week – nobbut just. The cunning plan was that I was to board a boat at St Peter’s Basin and be taken upriver in style and landed on the Quayside in good time to hobble across ( torn calf muscle) to the stand to make a speech to the assembled throng. The plan went pear shaped. Originally the polis had given permission for the boat to sail up as far as the Millennium Bridge. Unfortunately there was a severe attack off Political Bowel Irritation Syndrome amongst the polis Head Sheds. They obviously thought that we were going to attempt a marine based attack on the Sage Building and commit a mass slaughter amongst the NuLabourers cringing therein. To prevent this atrocity, they slapped a ‘Section 14’ (Public Order Act) on the Boat. This meant that the boat would be arrested if it stuck its nose above the Ouseburn. No legal authority that I consulted had ever heard of a ‘Section 14’ being slapped on a boat before and doubted its legality, but we were not dealing with legality only the polis for whom the letter of the law sometimes appears to be Illegible. Anyway, that buggered my grand entrance to the protest gathering and I had to hirple up the riverside with my stick (I am surprised that they did not take that away – after all, I might have hurled it across the Tyne and felled old ‘Two Jags and double chips, please love’). As it was I arrived just in time to make my speech, which was well received, I am happy to say, to the extent that someone suggested that I print it in the Journal. I think not. The spoken word may sometimes lose some of its savour in the cold print – although I will offer you the bit about giving this government a bloody political nose and kicking it back into the gutter from whence it had crawled – that may serve to give you the flavour of the whole. Anyway the job was done.

I have always been a great supporter of GNER, but I fear it may be guilty of sneaky practices. I like to smoke my pipe after breakfast. On the new rolling stock we smokers are shut up in a tiny compartment, cut off from the rest of the train. The other day I caught the 0705 from Alnmouth to Kings Cross. Alnmouth must be one of the coldest stations in England. It was a bitter cold morning and my feet in my flimsy going-to-London shoes and socks were fair nigh frozen, by the time I got on the train. I was looking forward to settling into my seat in a nice warm carriage with a cup of tea and my pipe. It was not to be. In the smoking cupboard, the air conditioning was blasting away on ‘full Artic’. I had to keep my overcoat on and my toes got even colder. I mentioned this to whatever the Guard is called now. Like all GNER staff he was unfailingly polite, but regretted that there was nothing he could do as the air-con was on automatic. When I had finished my pipe, I moved next door into the non-smoking section, where it was beautifully warm and my feet came back to life. I cannot help feeling that there is a cunning plan here to make the smoking section un-sittable in. This can then be used as an excuse to do away with smoking sections altogether. Very likely, come the summer, the heating will be going full bore. Really I feel that if GNER is going to pull underhand strokes like that, it deserves to lose its franchise to Virgin – at least we all know that Virgin is ghastly.

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NEWCASTLE JOURNAL 24.2.05

History is a wheel and wheels go round At the moment we country people are on the downside of the wheel and about to be crushed into the mud of history. However, history dictates that, as the wheel turns, what goes down one side must come up again on the other. We shall rise again – a bit muddied and battered perhaps, but rise we shall and this is what frightens NuLab – this is why it is frightened of history and tradition. The prodnose puritan tendency is on the crest of the circuit at the moment, but the movement of the wheel means that from now on its only movement can be downwards back into the muck. Mind you, it can and will do as much damage as possible during its downwards descent. It should consider the fact that we are talking revolution and it was NuLab that has tried to speed up this revolution – a revolution that will only speed its own decline into the mess that it has churned up. So put your shoulders to the wheel, lads and get the prodnoses back into the mire.

The wheel of my life is turning too. Breamish Parks is going on the market this spring (George White - Alnwick) and we shall be on the move. The Dragon Lady and I are both very sorry. We have both come to love Northumberland, where we have now spent nearly a quarter of a century. We shall miss the wonder of the Cheviot Hills and the great kindness and friendship we have received from the people who live there - thank you all. We shall miss Northumberland; I thought that we would live out our lives here and never move again. But one thing that I have learned in life is that one should never say ‘never’. Life is ruled by events and you have little choice but to let them unfold and follow where they take you. I do not know where this will be, but I suspect that it will be outwith this country. The Dragon Lady and I married in 1972. We seriously discussed the possibilities of emigration at the time. The only thing that has kept us in this overcrowded little island has been our combined love of hunting and the English countryside. I am sure that hunting will survive the present malicious nastiness, but it will reappear in a different form. Form is the operative word, because, when it does reappear, it will be happed up in forms and red tape – just as has happened with farming. The English countryside that I have known and loved is fast being eroded by the creeping tide of urbanisation and bureaucratic buggeration. The time has come to move. As to where we might move to, well, that is something to be decided. All I know is that it will have to be somewhere where hunting is still part of the current ‘zeitgeist’; where proper rural values still prevail and where government rules and regs are regarded as being pliable. There now – you now know as much as I do. As to the future of this column – that is a thing that only the Editor (all bow) can decide. Whatever that decision may, I have enjoyed writing it for you and some of you seem to have enjoyed the reading of it.

Enough of this – a puff of smoke and I reappear in my working clothes. And talking about smoke, I gave my annual party for the brave men (and woman) of the Wooler Fire Brigade. I burn a lot of softwood, because I have a lot to burn and this tends to tar up the chimney a bit and every now and then – Woof! Up she goes! I give the Bold Brigade full marks (I always do) they got to me in less than 10 minutes, but this was no thanks to the control centre which gave them the wrong address. I had given my full name and address, but Wooler got it as ‘the Pool house, Powburn’, which none of them had heard of until the Chief said that - ‘Way Man, they must mean Willy’s place!’ – A little notoriety can be good for your chimney. The fire was swiftly and neatly dealt with and they all piled in for the customary cup of ‘tea’. It was then that I learned a worrying fact. It seems that the emergency control centre is to be rationalised. A centre at Middlesbrough will deal with the whole area from N.Yorkshire to the Tweed. Powburn, Man? It’s never heard of Powburn. So, and mind this carefully, if you want an emergency response in the future DO NOT FORGET TO GIVE YOUR POST CODE. This will appear on a ‘transponder’ (is that right?) in the emergency vehicle, which should then be able to find you. Do not rely on the Chief knowing who you are or where you live.

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