MelKelly: Another way to fight : THE POWER OF THE POUND
This post from the Guardian says it all so well that I am going to take the liberty of posting it. If Melkelly objects to this I am sure he/she will let me know:
Another way to fight : THE POWER OF THE POUND
As well as strikes, the British people can use the power of the pound. Every pound has power
Move our money from Barclays, HSBC, Santander, Tesco Bank to the Nationalised banks or the Nationwide. That will increase the health of the nationalised banks quicker, increase the share price and help reduce the deficit
Don't shop at Tesco, Marks & Spencer, Prudential, Boots and any other tax avoiding company. If boycotts worked for South Africa they can work for the British people. Remember companies like Boots and Prudential are making the deficit worse by holding board meetings abroad to avoid paying the tax they are due to pay. Boots should have paid £280 million but paid £14 million instead. Don't give Boots and Prudential our business or our money. 7 million people in Britain have savings and pensions with Prudential. If they move out then we should move out of Prudential
Shop in Morrisons, Lidl, Aldi, the Co-Op, Farmfoods - good quality low prices and they pay their British taxes - which helps cut the deficit
Don't buy the national lottery tickets.
Don't buy the Sun, the News of the World or the Times, the Telegraph or the Mail as they are the coalition mouthpieces - wormtongues - not newspapers.
Cancel your Sky subscription - why give an organisation your money when it illegally spys on royalty, politicians, celebrities, union members. If MI5 did this we would be up in arms.
Take your coalition MP to court for fraud (as every policy implemented was not in Liberal or Tory manifestos but they were on the reform website www.reform.co.uk well before the election. Vince Cable wrote a paper before the election which proves the Tories and the Liberals were working together on the REFORM manifest before the election - all the policies are on the website - just not in the manifestos. These MPs are guilty of committing fraud.
Cancel every direct debit and only pay cash - and refuse to pay the charges if not paying by direct debit - why give British Gas etc. your money every month
Lift all your money on payday - don't leave it in the bank
Cash in stocks and shares ISAs - why give the stock market your money when they speculate to increase prices on food and also helped crash the banking system
Move your pension funds to a British pension provider - if there are any left
My mother came to stay this week, having cozened her way in with the feeble excuse that she needed to recuperate after an eye operation. When I grumbled that she could recover just as well in her boat, or indeed in Timbuktu, my grandmother just gave me a warning glance.
So that was that.
The old bag should have gone after the weekend but lingered on like a bad smell for a few days more. She spent most of the time complaining about her health and general incapacity but I noticed she had no problem swilling copious amounts of gin.
The second best gin.
She has spent thirty years frittering away the family's money on exotic holidays, substances and men and now, utterly unemployable, faces the bleak prospect of an impecunious old age. Thus she is on the hunt for someone, anyone, who might throw her a financial lifeline. She is desperately afraid my grandmother will live to be 90 and that she will never get her grubby mitts on the cash.
I was six when we made our twelfth move. My mother had decided that married life and honesty were not for her: she wanted her old life of parties, drugs and casual sex, though not a job.
We walked out, or I was dragged out, on my father, or the man I thought was my father; I still remember the sadness when we said goodbye: a good man.
After a brief sojourn in a caravan in a farmer's field, we landed at Lower Lodge in Binfield Heath, near Henley-on-Thames. This is now Millionaires' Row but then was still a pleasant place.
We lodged at the Lodge with Yoni, the local midwife, who had been one of my 'father's' girlfriends. What jolly japes the girls had there! Every night one or the other could stay out, returning shagged in the morn, and then the Lodge was filled with redolent fumes of herb.
I do not remember how I got the Kite. Perhaps my Grandpa, may he rest in peace, gave it to me. I do remember how beautiful it was, red, with a dragon's face and a sinuous tail.
I lodged with the Brasses once, and the paterfamilias was Mike. He had only two, inexhaustible topics of conversation: where to find food and whores and the genius of his family. I saw few examples of genius, but I did hear a lot of flatulence, most of it from Mike himself, who was as prolific that end as the other.
One morning the Brass was enjoying his breakfast: 4 sausages, 2 duck eggs, six thick rashers of bacon, a chunk of foie gras, mushrooms, toast and coffee.
“I could have been a concert pianist as well as a mathematical genius, you know. I wonder what it is about my family.”
“What do you mean?” I said, sipping my coffee and avoiding looking at his hairy belly as it gurgled and shook.
“Well, genes like ours don’t come from nowhere. I’m sure before my grandfather came from Russia we must have been musicians, artists, scientists. What do you think?”
“I’m sure you’re right: symphonies from all the Mighty Handful must have accompanied your family’s exit from Mother Russia.”