Interesting Situation

Last weekend, Lewis Hamilton won the Turkish Grand Prix and with it, the F1 Driver’s Championship for the seventh (!!!!) time, tying the venerated-but-comatose Michael Schumacher for the all-time record.  Much has been said about the little twerp, especially by me, for the fact that he’s driving a  car (factory Mercedes-AMG) which is hugely superior to most if not all of the other cars in Formula 1, and to a certain degree this is true. (Mercedes had actually clinched the F1 Team Championship title the race before.)

However:  in Istanbul on Sunday, conditions were terrible.  It had rained all night before, and to add to the drivers’ woes, the track had only been resurfaced a couple weeks prior, which meant that even dry it would have been slippery;  add metric tons of water to the mix, and you get mayhem.  Which is pretty much what happened.  Nobody cared to race on slicks, when meant “wet” or “intermediate” tires were the order of the day, and all during the race, cars were sliding around and off the track like they were being driven by five-year-old boys and not by arguably the best drivers in the world.  Even worse was that because the tires were wet-weather ones, they degraded very quickly when the track did dry out a bit.  Ordinarily under those circumstances, you’re lucky to get ten to fifteen laps before the tread wears to such an extent that you’re in essence racing on slicks, on a soaking-wet track.  This was not the case in Istanbul, because it drizzled on and off during the entire race, which meant that the alternate wet- and dry track gave the intermediate tires a few more laps’ life, to maybe twenty laps.

Hamilton changed off the wet tires on lap 8 — and then drove the last fifty laps on the same tires, winning by a huge margin because all the other drivers had to make two and sometimes three pit stops to change theirs.  It was a drive of unbelievable virtuosity, and as much as I personally detest the little asshole, it was a drive worthy of a champion, the win and therefore the title richly deserved.  And by the way, Valttieri Bottas (the other Mercedes driver), driving the same machinery, finished somewhere like fifteenth.  So much for “equipment superiority”.

I told you all that so I could tell you this.

Hamiton’s seventh driver’s title has resulted in calls for him to be given a knighthood by the Queen — she doesn’t make the decision, by the way, some government flunkey or other does, I can’t be bothered to look it up as like most Americans I think the whole title thing is silly.  Regardless, other sportsmen have been knighted before for their sporting success (F1’s Jackie Stewart and Stirling Moss, cricketer Ian Botham — more on him in another post), so it’s not an unusual thing for a sportsman to be thus recognized.

However, this is Lewis Hamilton we’re talking about, so of course there’s going to be a turd in the punchbowl.  And this is it:  many years ago, Lewis left the U.K. and took up residence in Monaco to escape Her Majesty’s onerous taxation (once again, not the old girl’s fault;  she doesn’t makes the laws, she just signs the papers).

To the ever-censorious British public, who think that leaving Britain for this reason equates to near-criminal behavior, this is causing some problems, conceptually.  On the one hand, he’s brilliant and deserves some social recognition, but on the other, he’s a reprehensible tax-dodger who’s being rewarded by the Crown despite his “disloyalty”.

Needless to say, I think the wealth-envious Brits are total idiots when it comes to this nonsense:  taxes are an evil, evil form of theft:  one should pay only as much as the law mandates, and not one fucking penny more.  Avoiding paying taxes (as opposed to evading, or not paying any) is one’s fiscal responsibility, and tax loopholes (created, of course, by loathsome politicians) should be used to the utmost advantage without actually breaking the law.  Tax accountants and -lawyers exist to know about and bring such loopholes (okay, exceptions) to their clients’ attention and save them money.  That’s the beginning and the end of what I call the commonsense approach to paying taxes — but that’s not what the vast British (and huge swathes of the U.S.) public believes.

Thus, the quandary the Brits find themselves in is an exquisite one, as I stated above.  And I find myself curiously conflicted:  on the one hand I think Hamilton’s achievement is incredible, and worthy of recognition;  but on the other, while the tax haven thing is irrelevant, the thought of this woke little BLM-supporting twerp becoming “Sir Lewis” sticks in my craw like a chicken bone.

Heroic

Just when you thought that the Stout Bulldog Spirit had left Britishland forever, comes this little tale (from back in 2018, as it happens):

Married at First Sight star David Pugh single-handedly fought off a gang of five machete-wielding robbers using his martial arts skills after they broke into his home.
The thugs burst into the 56-year-old’s home, demanding cash and attacking Pugh’s teenage son and a 20-week-old puppy.
The reality star was left covered in blood after courageously fighting off the masked men – who were armed with baseball bats and golf clubs as well as machetes – with his bare hands.

And the picture is not a good one:

While his great big brass balls are not pictured, I think we can all give him a round of applause.

But I know that all of you are thinking that had Mr. Pugh been allowed the use of, say, a Colt 1911 or similar, it would have been a far better outcome for all concerned (except for the choirboys, of course) in that the blood splatter would have belonged to the goblins rather than to Our Hero.

And we could have inducted him into the Dept. of Righteous Shootings — International Division, rather than just applauding his outstanding bravery.

But this is Britishland, where he would have been more likely to face arrest for causing a public nuisance or bleeding without the proper permit.

[10,000 words of angry invective deleted]

Dept. Of Righteous Shootings

This from Florida, where people seem to forget that everyone has a gun, even (or maybe especially) convenience-store clerks:

The Miami Herald reports that the man, 34-year-old Stephon Brown, allegedly entered the Valero at about 5 a.m. and “pulled out a gun to rob the place.” The clerk responded by pulling his own gun and shooting Brown multiple times.
Brown was able to run out of the store and cross the street before collapsing in front of a McDonald’s.

We will now have a brief pause to allow the applause, cheers and catcalls to subside… nah, the hell with it.  Go right ahead.

Wizard

I saw an article which mentioned a man named Karl-Heinz Rumenigge (pronounced Room-in-nigga ), and I had a good chuckle at the memories the name evoked.

Back in the 1980s, Rumenigge was West Germany’s chief striker in their national football team, and he’s ranked 26th in the Top 50 World Cup Footballers Of All Time.  (The list includes Pele, Maradona, Cruyff, Messi, Yashin and Zhidane, so we’re not talking mediocrity here.)

I used to love watching him play, but not for the usual reasons.

You see, outside the penalty area, Rumenigge was hopeless:  he’d get the ball in the midfield, then trip over his own feet and fall over, or kick the ball into touch unintentionally, or pass the ball to the opposition, or kick one of his own team’s players accidentally — there was no telling how badly he could screw up.  (I exaggerate, of course, but only a little.)  And he had the worst hairstyle in football:

But when he got a sniff of the ball in the opponents’ penalty area:  GOAL.  Almost without fail, there would be a goal, whether by a thunderous shot which made the goalie look foolish, or by dribbling it past three defenders before netting the ball, or back-heeling the ball through a forest of legs, or poaching a loose ball anywhere within ten yards of the goalposts;  whatever it took, Karl-Heinz would get the job done (video).  At his club Bayern Munich, he scored 200 goals in ten years, and playing for Germany, he scored 45 goals in ninety-six matches, including a hat-trick during the 1982 World Cup.

By the way, he’s no dunce:  nowadays, Rumenigge is the Chairman of Executive Board of FC Bayern München.  And he has a better haircut.