Today Sid (remember him?) told me things would not be the same again...

TODAY I received a letter which raises to a new level my hatred of all things Tory and especially Mrs Margaret Hilda bloody Thatcher. And this is made worse by the fact that the cause of my rage - and fear - is yet another example of how the capitalist system she so admired cannot be trusted with the security and prosperity of its very own workers.

Today I learn that the National Grid, which has become my pension payer (more on that anon) is to salami slice its pension members into three buckets and distribute them willy nilly to a new bunch of as yet un-named and unattested corporations. This is because they have decided to reap the profits they have accrued by building up various bits of the business. Not you will note for my benefit at all.

Today they assure me that my pension is as safe as ever, regardless of which bunch of capitalist thieves my pension has been unilaterally dumped with. And I have no choice. And I will be told which bunch BEFORE the value of their bids is known! And they assure me I am safe because each third will be ring-fenced! What? I used to be assured by the whole business; now it just a bit of it.

Today for the first time in over 10 years of drawing my pension I am afraid. For myself and my wife, or as she may one day be, my widow.

Today I would willingly dis-inter Mrs Thatcher and hang her head from one of the lamps on Westminster Bridge. But enough about how I might enjoy myself.

For it was she, and her lap-dancing lackeys, who decided to sell off the family silver, as Haroold MacMillan called it. Each of the utilities on which the people of Britain depended and for whom thousands worked or were dependant were flogged off to the highest bidder. Oh yes she made sure the bitter puill was sweetened by Telling Sid and all the other greedsy ones who sucked up her share-owning democracry claptrap. Me included to a degree, though I missed out on two by being silly enough to be an adviser! Well-paid of course but ultimately robbed like the rest of Britain.

Worse was to come however. Mrs T understood that her decision was not actually all that popular for many reasons and especially not with some of her own. So she instituted the Golden Share, by which ownership althugh up for grabs,would remain in British hands. Not ideal but something to cling on to. And especially after she also instituted in the City the Big Bang, otherwise known as the first step towards fiscal armageddon in 2008.

But the Golden share had a time limit and when they expired takeover fever struck. Today hardlky any utilities are actually owned by British interest, certainly not in total. Worse still the Rolls Royce Golden Share attracted the attention of the EU and was ruled illegal in 2000 with inevitable results. I voted remain but if there was a reason not to this may have been it.

Now let's back up a bit. I will be the first to say, from experience, that the utilities were not perfect. They were not as efficient as they might have been. Some failed to 'wipe their faces' and relied on Government subsidies. But they and their workers all paid their taxes. And their workers were well paid and cared for, requiring little if anything during or after work from Government.

Some utilities did all that and made a profit, which went into the Treasury coffers, leaving the utility to beg money back for capital investment. That rule was actrually used asd an xcuse by Thatcher for privatisation – to 'free them from the shackles of Government'. That would be you then Mrs T?

Now every utility worker paid in to a big pension pot, along with contributions from the 'company'. They worked for up to 50 years and got decent pensions based on the decent pay they had received, mostly, during their working years. These pensions were in no way Government subsidised and indeed were good for the country as the recipients continue to pay tax and spend money of their own.

We all know about BHS and the Greening of their pension fund. And the Mirror Group and how Maxwell sank their pension just ahead of sinking himself. There have been others and Tata is bleating on right now about the steel poension fund.

The point here is that unlike the state pension all these pensions are wholly-funded. Indeed back in the days of sanity most of them carried surpluses which were used to lend to insdustry and the Government o pay for projects. The idea was that in the good years the pot got bigger than nmecessay to cover the bad years when it shrank. But caropetbaggers and other greedy bastards decided that ws not the way to do it. Instead in the good years they awarded themselves – the fund – and the pension contributors a 'pensions holifay' Guess what? Suddenly the lean years were really lean and a black hole started to develop.

Not satisfied with that Gordon Brown decided to dip into the funds generated by pension relief and robbed the entire syetm of billions of pounds.

Add Brown's buggeratioin factor to the purblind fools and their pensiun holidays and now most pension funds are actually UNDER-funded. And given the state of the investment market that uis not likely to change any time soon.

So the bigger the pension fundl. The more security we the pensioners have. And this matter todasy be=cause som,ething else happened to clobver pensions.

Back in the days of the un-privatised utilities they employed thousand, often more than perhaps wer entirely needed. But along come the sharop eyed accountants serving their sharp tongued bosses and productivity slashes the workforce. Great you cry – our bills will go down. Oddly enough not only have they not fallen, they have risen but that is another can of worms.

But see here – back then the number of pensioners was LESS than the number of contributing members. Not any more. Oh no. Today really rather small numbers of contributors are watching huge numbers of pensioners depleting the pot. Add to that the fact that us pensioners are now living longer than ever and a bit of snag emerges.

And so I worry when my pension fund trustees assure me I will be entirely safe when they chop me into salami slices and stuff me into a smaller bag.

And I worry more when they assure me, as if it were a good thing, that this smaller bag will be ring-fenced so it cannot infect the other bags (the ones we used to be able to rely on).

And I really worry when I realise that they are arbitraily slicing us into mixed packages to suit the new smaller bags.

See, I know how that will work and I don't like it. I don't like it one little bit.

For someone just turned 65 and starting to draw their pension is a much higher actuarial risk to the fund than the chap who is already 75 and had 10 years of pension.

And he or she is in turn more of a risk than the person in their mid-80s and starting to live on borrowed time (that is not a joke!).

And each of these is a greater or lesser risk depending on their gender since women live longer than men. Oh and there is the white-collar versus blue-collar thing as well.

So here we go – when the bids come in for the chunks of National Grid that are being sold one of the issues will be the exposure of the new company and its owners to the pension fund.

Now you know whay today was a very bad day for me and a vast number of National Grid pensioners.

And of course for the Government too, who may have to pick up the bill when one of these shiney new owners goes tits up and has robbed the pension fund blind.

NOTE: I worked for British Gas and they were my pension fund holders. Then it got taken over and various things happened and finally the electricity power people came along and gobbled it all up. Yum Yum, lovely.

BROKEN BRITAIN

Broken Britain** 

Age has already wearied, and too many years condemned, our youth to an uncertain future

DURING the mendacious and malevolent campaign for the referendum, from both sides, the fear was expressed that it placed at risk the social cohesion of Briain. And it sure has but not only in the way that had been predicted.

For today not only do we have heightened sensitivity to race, colour and even creed. Not only do we have an acute awareness of how the vote varied region by region and the 'blame' that can be attached to it.

And not even only (ouch!) do we have the expected outcome that Scotland stands separate and independent from all of the UK bar the London bubble.

Worse by far, we have a generational divide that some fear may not even be bridgeable.

For it is clear for all to see that while many of my age and older voted to remain in the EU very large numbers of Baby Boomers voted to quit. And pretty few young voters wanted out, seeing their much longer future better within.

Beyond that too is not just the inevitable aggravation of these young voters with their elders for 'letting them' down or simply being selfish. There is beyond them another huge tranche of youngsters who could not vote and who it seems would certainly have helped to reduce if not destroy the OUT majority.

And if we might hoped that some midway could be found then the mighty if dubious cry of “democracy, we must accept the verdict” probably destroys such hopes. Even if the EU might concur. Instead they, smarting at the rebuff, finally convinced of the perfidy of Albion and equally terrified lest the contagion spread have made it very clear indeed – you want to go so GO NOW.

It hurts me to say it but a lot of us told you so. And a lot of us were a great deal less sanguine about the Remain vote than too many in power.

We have ended up here due to the internal machinations of the Conservative and (dare I say it?) Unionist Party. Yet somehow it is the Labour Party tearing itself to pieces – and even that exacerbates the generational split. For many youth wanted another way and Corbyn seemed to some to be it.

There is little comfort in watching Clammy and Ozzie falling on their swords. It was the least they could do. But given the hovering horror of BoJO a MiGo and the bizarre aggrandisement of the chump Hunt things can indeed only get worse. It grieves me to say it but on this reckoning Theresa May is our ponly hope!

Why? Because if she gets to be PM the chance that Margaret Hodge could be leader of the Labour Party recedes – and while I back Corbyn I do NOT back any of the other candidates at all.

But back to the yoof situation. Not only are they going to spend a lot of time in the coming years on recriminations against us oldies – even their parents if anecdotes are even close to true – but they are about to find themselves further alienated. For there is scant chance that far right twerps who will rule the Tories for the next 5-10 years will take youth seriously. And if the Blairites have anything to do with it the young left will be strangled at birth.

The time has indeed come for electoral reform in the hope that Broken Britain can be mended:

• First of course must come Proportional Representation, to give value to each vote.
• Then some sensible rules to shunt referenda into their proper place – advisory.
• Then a lowering of the voting age to 16 to re-balance a bad equation.
• And finally and most controversially a cap on the qualification to vote at 80 years of age.

Most of those I know in that cohort are not frankly to be trusted with the honour. And I doubt I will be in a few years time. if now...

**Broken Britain is often attributed to The Sun and the Tory Party in 2007 but it has a longer and slightly more honourable past. It certainly started out in the later 1990s as Broken Society as in Britain is a... And it appears the BB version may have surfaced soon after. In about 2002 Ian Duncan Smith appears to have used it . Blair gets given it in 1995. My own recollection gives it to Michael Heseltine when he visited Toxteth after the 1981 riots and found himself once again a One Nation Tory, much to Margaret Thatcher's aggravation. But I could be dreaming. He was – the Treasury scuppered his plans.

Be careful what you wish for

(or I remember, I remember the place where I was born)

Reading the comments of a very large number of those who voted for BREXIT, especially those of my years, I note they often hark back to the past. And especially in terms of making Britain, Great again.

At the same time the younger generation, and especially perhaps the millions who could NOT vote, are beginning to blame us oldies for what has now happened and the risk it poses for the future of the younger generations.

Now I voted remain, worked to persuade others, put up my posters and am devastated at what has happened. I believe it can come all right but it will take time and time is the one thing I and orhers, even the Baby Boomers of which I am older by a tad, do not have For us this could be a grey end to an otherwise good life.

But then I started to think what this 'Great' Britain was all about. And I realised it is just about as credible as the 'facts' of the BREXITers.

It starts with what we are lot were taught at school in the 40s, 50s and into the 60s – all about the pinik bits. How we were great because we had 'Empire'. How we were improving the whole world through our own success and achievements.

But then I grew up a bit and looked closer. True, Britain did become Great by being first in a lot of things. And in having a lot of stuff in the ground to use. But that soon ran down, And then like the rest of Europe we started exploring and plundering. The Germans did it, the Spanish did it, The Portuguese did it. The Dutch did it, The French did it. Everyone wanted a bit of the globe – and we got most largely due to having the Royal Navy to make sure what we took, we held.

Of course we were not there just to deliver clergy and bibles. Nor even to trade stuff for slaves. We were there mostly to plunder. And we went on doing it right through to the Second World War. We did get Great but it was by climbing on the shoulders of millions of little people.

Gold, diamonds, precious stones and metals, spices and herbs, and cotton and silk and actual plants and... well you get the picture.

Some got hacked off early and dumped us – the Americas got fed up with being taxed without any representation and told us to sling our hook. Given their own treatment of native Americans we should not have been surprised. Oh no, that was us really.

.Canada kind of tried with the help of the French but, basically we locked down. Down under, the natives of New Zealand and Australia were either slaughtered, ignored or corrupted and we took what we wanted. Then we took the land, feeding up sheep on the grasses that once sustained genuine aborigines. What would you do for a spadeful of earth...

Then, as the world began to wake up to what Europeans had done, Europe managed to shoot itself in both feet. Twice. And both times they ended up being bailed out by, guess who? One of our old colonies. Ain't that sweet?

And so the sun began to set on an empire that once spanned the globe. One by one the pink bits went out to turn green, and orange, and blue and black and very, very fed up with the UK.

But Europeans are not so easy to get away from. They gave up the ideas of war-war and went for jaw-jaw. The Common Market, European Free Trade Area, The EEC and finally the EU. Peace, tranquility, free travel and a modicum of prosperity reigned. Not like the old days – after all little of value was left in the ground in Europe and the days of daylight robbery abroad were over. Deals, agreements amd tariffs were the drivers.

Most of Europe settled in to the idea but the sceptered little islands of Britain were never totally convinced that they were part of Europe. That fortress channel (La Manche to others) had grown a callous skin that would not fully yield. The good old days, the good old days. We don't want or need Europe. Fog in channel, continent cut off. Little Englanders.

Rose tinted our view and it saw a brave world of green fields, waving corn, stooks and hayricks, doughty drifters bringing in the little darlings, tough blackened miners hewing the stuff raw to the hearth. This was the place. Mine's a pint.

Only of course it wasn't like that. What I remember is cold houses, curtains frozen to the window pane, crippled kids with polio, suddenly absent school chums who vanished during various outbreaks, steel calipers on ricketty limbs, plenty of those most distressing things like Spasticism as we called it then. And pretty grils who suddenly got a bit fat, then vanished, never to be talked of again. The lady in the next street suddenly in prison for her nasty little sideline.

Open razors, bicycle chains and knucke dusters in the street. Queues a mile long for almost everything. Horse shit along every street. Smog that killed friends andf family and very nearly my mother. No fridges – rancid milk. Daily shopping. Queues again.

And then, just when we thought we were getting out of the mess we found we had too few workers for the hospitals, trains, buses and tubes. So we shipped them in from our former and few existing colonies. Our West Indian friends, our Carribeanm chums. Except no homes for 'Blackies' (forgive me) or even Irish actually. And conspiracy theories about successful black pianists buying houses all over London for her Jamaican friends. Actual fact – she bought two houses in Brixton for her father and mother and her aunt! Because we loved her jangly piano and laughing eyes.

And spivs in the street who ran at the sight of a 'bobby' – and women who would warn them voluntarily. And pavements made narrow by the crushed legs of our heroes from the front, dumped and scrapped by a grateful nation and now forced to beg, The stink of horse meat stalls to feed our pets. The embarrassing farce of Suez. The threat of the bomb in every towering cloud.

Cars that killed – with dumb iron bumpers, wicked mirrors, hopeless brakes, tyres that skidded if it even looked wet (assuming they had not punctured). And no home heating so you could die as quick as a wink with blue or pink paraffin heater that would burst intio flame at a knock. And if it all got too much you could pop your head in the gas oven and drift off to a quiet death, always hopeful that your body would be found before someone lit a match to look for you. Kaboom. Always assuming the un-earthed electrics had not got you first.

And prefabs that looked OK but froze in winter, leaked like sieves and lasted way, way into the 60s before homes fit for heroes were built.

Oh yes and farm workers paid so little and treated so badly they genuinely used hay in their trousers for warmth. But food was pricey even so.

Yep – it was indeed a Golden Age and those who voted for it may well prove the old saying – be careful what you wish for...

What we need now is some guts in Number 10

The barney over what to do now and who to blame will roll on but a couple of points may be worth thinking about.

Referenda are not about democracy as such since they are not about Government - not yet anyway. What they do is test public opinion. And that informs or should what Government does next. In this case we know that the majority of elected MPs - who really are part of our democracy - are not in favour of leaving the EU. And we also know, or should, that they are charged with doing what is best for Britain - all of it. We can - and clearly are - as cynical about that as we want to be but its is their job and for the vast majority of the time and the members it is truism.

So what do they do now? They have been handed a surprise rejection by it is said 52% to 48%. But if democracy means anything we do need to remember that MORE people failed to vote than voted either way - some 22m sat on their hands. What do we make of that?

Well first, just like our current Government this not a MANDATE from the people - just a very strong view expressed by a very large MINORITY. In fact there has never been a Government elected with more than half the electoral population in support, let alone those who cannot vote.

And that is the really big point here - not only did 22m who could do so NOT vote and may thus be seen as apathetic about IN or OUT but a further 14 million could not vote due to their age. But all of these must live with the result. And that means our elected Government must decide what to do and NOT slavishly follow the referendum vote. That would be gutless, unreasonable and utterly unfair on the non-voting generation.

So the first step MUST be to recall Parliament and start the debate where it matters.

The next is to make clear that while the PREFERRED option by a significant section of the British people is to leave the EU as it now is that is not a mandate to simply cut and run.

With the rest of Europe also at a crossroads the British Government has a strong bargaining position to win the sort of changes in the EU that have long been wanted and frankly needed. Now is the moment to drive for those changes. And when they have been determined may be the moment for a second referendum that is set up in such a way that is can be binding - a 75% turnout and a minimum 60% in favour of one side or the other.

The British people deserve better than to have a relatively small cabal of right-wing and disaffected people decide the future for the vast majority of ordinary, middle of the road people - never mind the 14 million under 18s coming up behind with their future in jeapardy. 

Now is the time for some guts in Number 10.