Tarnished Stars

My friend Michael sent me an article that he thought might amuse me, and it did. The BNP - or British National Party, who like to send foreigners back, and the more foreign, the more they want to send them back - are having a pop at the Polish. Oddly timed, since after an initial influx to Britain of Poles, they have in fact also returned whence they came in their droves. They have produced a rather splendid poster to spearhead the latest campaign, featuring that iconic symbol of true Brit, the Spitfire. The Spitfire, you will remember, repelled the Bosch. (Not the kitchen appliances company you understand, the naughty, Messerschmitt flying ones).

An odd choice of photo, however. The Spitfire they chose to keep Britain for the British and free of Poles, is in fact, clearly identifiable as belonging to a Squadron of the Polish Air Force.

Tesco, the British supermarket giant, who e-mail me from time to time, presumably they have noticed I still use their services sporadically, have let me know that for
£3.97, I could purchase U2`s latest album. Clearly they haven`t been paying attention.

I have to support my friend Gail, who posted on her Facebook wall, about how we have come to constantly reward children just for doing what they`re supposed to do anyway, (giving them gold stars) instead of punishing them for not doing what they should.
Quite right.
This is the bane of the teaching profession. You can spend hours praising every kid who`s doing ANYTHING righr, `Thank-you Megan, for not picking your nose,` instead of getting rid of the one git who`s wrecking the class and then being able to get on with teaching them. And do you think the good kids actually appreciate it? No, they want you to get rid of the disrupters and teach them.
Gail also mentioned how this generation, when they come to the workplace, now expect the same treatment. Well, guess what? Good luck out there bozos. Your mummies and daddies won't be able to protect you from the American Border Guard.

Another story that Michael tipped me off about, and believe you me, anyone who has crossed the border here can relate to this, is about a Canadian man of Portugese extraction, who simply asked the guard to say 'please'. Natural enough, Canadian border guards are polite, and generally speaking, so are the U.S. ones, but every so often, you get a complete troglodyte.
The Canadian was pepper-sprayed, knelt on by a number of guards, and interrogated for three hours. One bright spot was that when they realised he was Hispanic and not Middle-Eastern, they eased up a little.