Judgement At Nuremburg (1961).
Timeless concepts, eternal questions of legality and morality. All discussed, weighed and then answered in the final scene of the movie, with devastating clarity and simplicity.
And for a bonus, a movie with not a single bad — or even mediocre — performance: all brilliant, and worthy of every accolade that has come by since.
Triggered by this article (“Brits wish they’d seen these top 25 historical events”), I thought I’d put together my own list of historical events I’d like to have witnessed firsthand. (I know, I wrote a similar post a while back, but times have changed.) They are in no specific order of preference.
Your choices (any number up to 25) in Comments.
Why did I never have school trips like this one?
Head teacher struck off for school ski trip to Switzerland where one girl pupil slept with three boys, another had sex with a boy for £30
…and unbelievably, it gets even better from there.
Sheeesh… and all the school trips I ever experienced were to museums and other such boring nonsense.
As to how all this happened, this sentence may provide a clue:
A Teaching Regulation Agency (TRA) misconduct panel heard Mrs Drury was principal of the CP Riverside school in Nottingham, a school which provides alternative education for children aged 13-18 with behavior or social issues.
Wow… who could have predicted this outcome? (“Only about 99% of all sentient adults, Kim.”)
Well, I guess that all falls under the umbrella of “alternative education” now, dunnit?
I started reading this article in the DM more for entertainment value than any other reason:
I do not have a TV license as I only watch Netflix and Amazon. However, I’ve heard I will now need to buy a license. Is this true?
I know, I know: the premise of the question is puzzling to my Murkin Readers, in that the very concept of a “TV license” is unfamiliar not to say abhorrent. But leaving that aside for the moment, I found my amusement turning into something else altogether as I started reading the answer:
The general rule is that under UK law you need to have a current TV license if you, or anyone within your house, flat or premises, watches live television on any channel or service, record television programs as they are being broadcast live or watch anything on BBC iPlayer.
So when you tune in to watch ‘on demand’ television, such as Netflix, Amazon and other similar streaming services, no TV license is needed.
This is because here you are not watching ‘live’ programs – i.e. shows that are being broadcast when you watch or record them but, instead, choosing from a catalogue of options.
So far. so good (well no, not at all good, but whatever). Here’s where I started to feel a familiar itch in the old trigger finger:
What you have heard about relates to Netflix, the US streaming giant which has 17.1 million UK subscribers and has launched a new service where it broadcasts ‘live’ events – for example the former heavyweight champion Mike Tyson versus Jake Paul boxing match being broadcast on Friday.
This is therefore ‘live’ television, meaning if you watch this, or any other Netflix live event, as it is broadcast, or even if you record it to watch later, you fall squarely into the territory of needing a TV license.
To clarify, you can continue to watch Netflix without a TV license if you chose not to watch the live events.
Which begs raises the question: how EXACTLY does the BBC licensing Stasi know whether you’re watching a movie or a live show?
It seems quite a simple deduction that that the answer is twofold: either Netflix is sharing the viewing choices of the subscribers with the BBC, or the BBC is able somehow to monitor the channel feed, whether terrestrial or wireless. Either answer is fucking terrible.
I should point out that the only way the BBC can enforce this ridiculous license fee nonsense is because Brits are largely disarmed. If some Lizenzinspektor came to the average Texan’s door and started with the strong-arm bullshit, there’d soon be murders.
And just so we know what this is all about:
The standard TV licence now costs £169.50 per year. If you are required to have a license but fail to buy one, you risk being fined up to £1,000, plus any legal costs and compensation you may be ordered to pay.
Let’s hear it for the Surveillance Society.
…and that means not only an order, but also the smell.
“Kim, WTF are you talking about?”
Some smart guy (Robert Graboyes, at the splendidly-named Bastiat’s Window ) decided that Teh Experts cocked it up (surprise, surprise):
Two recent BW posts (“Polls, Pols, and Poli-Sci” and “Presidential Prodigiousness Potpourri”) lambasted the Bizarro World of presidential rankings from the 2024 Presidential Greatness Project Expert Survey. Some of the more ludicrous findings are summarized/caricatured in the graphic above. Several readers asked me to offer my own rankings. I can’t do a 1-through-45 list, but I can lump them into five tiers: (T#1) highly positive, (T#2) somewhat positive, (T#3) neutral, (T#4) somewhat negative, and (T#5) highly negative.
Go ahead and read it before continuing here.
My only quibbles are that Obama and Biden (the latter a.k.a. Obama The Much Lesser) didn’t end up in Tier 5, the absolute stinkers; and that Calvin Coolidge wasn’t in Tier 1 (although I will cop to being a yuge fan of Coolidge, so I may be biased).
I can’t fault Graboyes’s methodology, however, in that he refused to take into account what the presidents did when not in the Oval office (either before or after), which is good. His example:
Madison’s role in the Federalist Papers and Constitution make him a titan, but his presidency was mediocre.
He did include some non-Presidential material, though:
…Jimmy Carter, who has made himself a national pustule for over four decades.
By the same token, therefore Obama should be likewise excoriated because “national pustule” would be too kind a judgment on his post-Presidential shenanigans.
Feel free to discuss the observations of both Graboyes and mine, in Comments.
We had Doc Russia and his exquisite wife over for dinner last Saturday, and as always, a really good time was had by all, what with funny stories, jokes, lengthy discussions on interesting topics, all enhanced by one of New Wife’s excellent cooking choices (roast pork nom nom nom) and shall we say a sufficiency of booze.
One conversation was really interesting, and it revolved around the question: “If you had $3,000 spare, what would you buy?”
The immediate stipulation (made by Mrs. Doc Russia and endorsed by New Wife) was “No guns”, which stopped both spouses in their tracks.
It’s not that we have all we desire — far from it — and we could spend a lot more than three grand on, for example, a new car. But both Doc and I have no actual need for a lot of things (outside guns).
In bygone times, I might have been seduced by the acquisition of a watch, say this lovely Longines Equestrian piece for New Wife:
…except that while she thinks it’s a lovely watch, she’s perfectly happy with the one she has (Olivia Burton Floral, $140) and sees no reason to own another, at any price.
As do I, because having acquired my Tissot Heritage manual, I see no reason ditto.
(I should point out that the above costs less than $500, and since getting it my desire to own any other watch has, amazingly, disappeared.)
I should point out that the question stumped both Doc and Mrs. Doc as well. She talked about jewellery, being a woman, but although also a woman, New Wife has no interest in any of that stuff (“I own enough, and don’t want any more.”) I am sure as hell not in the market for that crap, either.
Well, if not a watch or jewellery, then what?
A few decent knives? Honestly, no. As much as one could never have too many knives (or guns), I can honestly say I can’t see spending that amount on bladed stuff because my modest knife collection is perfectly adequate for all my needs and wants (see sample below).
(that’s my “Crossing America” selection)
The “no gun” restriction was proving to be a pain in the ass, but in the end, I settled for a vacation for New Wife and myself, in essence deciding to buy memories. A 10-day trip to, say, Montana’s Glacier National Park or the Bitterroot Mountains:
Or (if we wanted to leave the country), there’s always the option of seven days in Montreal or Quebec City — I know, I know, but she’s never been to either place, and I love Montreal.
Both the above would cost around the $3,000 amount, and would leave us with a treasure trove of lovely scenery and fine dining.
Have to say, though, it sure would be hell not to be able to buy that Colt Single Action Army:
Anyway, what say you, O My Readers? On what would you spend three grand, assuming guns were off the table?