DNC files

Author: easycoder

dnc/Against the odds.md

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+[![](https://dnc.eclecity.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/jonathan-petersson-a6N685qLsHQ-unsplash-732x487.jpg)](https://dnc.eclecity.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/jonathan-petersson-a6N685qLsHQ-unsplash.jpg "Against the odds") 
+
+We used to live in northern Italy, close to the Mediterranean and the French border, where we still have a house and a car, so a couple of weeks ago we flew out, spent a few days tidying up the garden then loaded up the car with stuff we wanted in England and drove it back to our present home in Leeds. In a couple of months time we’ll take the car back, carrying anything wanted down there.
+
+The all-motorway route avoids the Alps by tracking along the coast down nearly to Marseilles, then heads up inland. This is the quickest route but far from the shortest, and of course you have to pay motorway tolls. So instead we took the old Napoleonic route up from Nice to Digne, then on to Sisteron and eventually Grenoble where we re-entered the motorway network. The road winds up and down through the mountains but there are spectacular views along the way so it’s quite enjoyable.
+
+Before we started we did the usual checks; oil and water levels and of course tyre condition. I’m no expert but there seemed to be ample tread depth for the entire return journey so no need to put on the spare set of wheels we had from a previous car of the same model.
+
+All went well till about 2pm when we hit the motorway at Grenoble, about 400km into the journey, at which point the road noise started sounding odd. A white van drew alongside and the driver jabbed his finger at the front passenger side wheel, so I (the passenger) stuck my head out of the window and saw the wheel running on a flat tyre. A motorway exit was coming up so we pulled over to the inner lane and took it, stopping on the nearest safe piece of roadside. The tyre was completely flat and the sidewall badly scuffed but I was able to partially reinflate it with the electric pump I always carry, so we edged gingerly to a car park just round the next corner, by which time it was completely flat again.
+
+So there we were, on the edge of Grenoble with about 500km to go, a car loaded to the roof with miscellaneous bits and pieces and a flat front tyre. We don’t have a roadside assistance insurance package but fortunately it was a fine day so I started to unload with a view to fitting the spare, which was of course underneath all that luggage. Just as I started another car drew into the car park next to us and the young woman driver – who turned out to be Russian with a fair command of English – asked if she could help. Her car was fully loaded for a picnic with her young son but she unloaded a camping table to make space for Anna and off they went to find a tyre service centre. Half an hour later they were back; it turned out there was one about a mile away. The mechanic there said there would be no problem driving the car that far as long as we stayed in first gear, so we limped there with all the hazard lights flashing.
+
+By luck, no damage had been done to the alloy wheel, so no problem fitting a new tyre. Of course we’d need two as it’s illegal to drive with mismatched tyres, and he just happened to have in stock a pair of Pirellis of that size, at €100 each, which I considered quite a fair price considering it included fitting as well. With the car up on the ramps he then pointed out the rear tyres weren’t looking too healthy either. In all 4 cases the wear had been mostly on the edges, possibly a consequence of driving on mountain roads, so I sighed and said “OK, let’s have all 4 then”. However, he didn’t have a full set of any make, so that meant Pirellis on the front and something else on the back. Then he disappeared into his stock room and came out with a pair of Chinese Hankook tyres that had been taken off another car but appeared to be in as-new condition, and offered us these for €20 each including fitting, payable in cash. Deals don’t come much better than that so we readily agreed.
+
+Within 2 hours of the original incident we were back on the road to complete our journey.
+
+Now consider. Given that something pretty serious went wrong in the first place, how many other things went spectacularly well for us to be on our way in under 2 hours, fully re-booted, for only €240? I made a lucky 13 list:
+
+*   The tyre burst on the ring road of the only large city we’d passed in 400km.
+*   The handling of the car was barely affected.
+*   Another driver alerted us to the problem.
+*   Grenoble is a big city with a good number of tyre service establishments.
+*   We were right next to a motorway exit on a non-toll section.
+*   There was a car park a stone’s throw from the exit.
+*   It was a sunny day.
+*   It was the middle of a weekday, during working hours.
+*   A helpful motorist ferried Anna to the garage and back, delaying her own quality time in the park with her young son.
+*   The tyre service establishment was only 1.4km away.
+*   It was open and not busy.
+*   They had 2 top-quality replacement tyres plus a pair of extremely cheap yet perfectly acceptable ones.
+*   No damage had been done to the wheel.
+
+If almost any one of the 13 items in that list had been anything other than totally favourable the outcome might have been very different. We could have burst the tyre on a narrow section of mountain road, miles from a garage, in the pouring rain, and so on.
+
+They say bad luck comes in threes, but isn’t it amazing how lucky breaks come in chains like this? Many of us have experienced situations of a similar nature, like putting a wallet down in a public place and having a kind member of the public running after us with it. It really defies all reason, but fortunate coincidence is a powerful agent in human affairs and should be celebrated when it occurs.
+
+So when things all seem to be going wrong, remember; sometimes it works the other way too.
+
+Photo by [Jonathan Petersson](https://unsplash.com/@grizzlybear?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText) on [Unsplash](https://unsplash.com/search/photos/dice?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText)

dnc/Born to rule.md

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+[![](https://dnc.eclecity.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Trafalgar_Crepin_mg_0579-732x488.jpg)](https://dnc.eclecity.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/Trafalgar_Crepin_mg_0579.jpg "Born to rule") 
+
+As I write we are just over 2 months from Halloween, on which date our Government has promised to take us out of Europe, “do or die”.
+
+Since no withdrawal agreement has been passed by the House of Commons our leaders are relying on the EU giving way on a number of demands that might make the package negotiated by Theresa May more palatable. The way they are conducting the dialog with our partners across the Channel is, however, strange, to say the least.
+
+Britain is known around the world as a “nation of shopkeepers”, a phrase commonly attributed to Napoleon. We have become successful and rich, not only by living up to this phrase at home but also by exporting the same principle around the world. But it wasn’t always like that. Until we discovered shopkeeping we were better known as a nation of plunderers and empire builders. Our Royal Navy was something to be feared in all corners of the globe and we raised generations of “Masters and Commanders” to ensure British will prevailed at all times.
+
+Our society today is the product of these two traditions, which have always sat uneasily with each other. Shopkeeping requires cooperation; it means being nice to people, gradually building their trust and never being seen to take advantage of the weakest. Masters and Commanders, on the other hand, need none of these qualities; they stride the world while lesser mortals quiver at their feet.
+
+This is the result of our education system. Although our current wealth is based on trade, whether in goods or in services, our leaders are drawn from a narrow class mostly educated at private schools of which Eton is at the pinnacle. Eton does not teach its pupils how to become shopkeepers; this can safely be left to the lower orders. Eton alumni have complete contempt for the plebian business of trading, so much so that our current Prime Minister, when asked recently about the possible effect of his policies on companies up and down the country, replied “Fuck business”.
+
+It’s quite noticeable that a huge part of our commercial base is now driven by people whose ancestry lies in the very countries to whom we were successful in exporting our shopkeeping skills. Public schoolboys, ever keen to avoid getting their hands dirty, gravitate to law and politics or inherit ownership of companies that were painstakingly built up by their parents and grandparents, and usually avoid any interaction with the people who work for them.
+
+This is presumably why our Prime Minister and most of his Cabinet (a group of people who in any other country we would refer to as a “junta”) think the best way to persuade the EU to accede to our requests is by a combination of denigration and insults by the captive Press and by direct threats. They are evidently so conditioned by their upbringing that they still live in a world where disputes were settled by Britain sending out a gunboat, hence the phrase “gunboat diplomacy”. And this is the strategy they are pursuing.
+
+The threat of course is to walk away from the EU without a deal. Its proponents believe this is such a powerful threat that the EU will cave in at the last minute and accede to our demands, but it ignores a number of factors. First, the damage that will be done to the UK will far exceed that to the EU. When a suicide bomber blows himself up, people around him are injured or even killed, but the terrorist himself is most assuredly dead. The EU are sensible people and do not want to see the carnage that “No deal” will bring, but neither do they like being threatened. Secondly, although we still live in a world where threats carry some weight, the major flaw in the thinking of our public-school educated masters is to believe that Britain is still big enough to carry it off, especially when dealing with an opponent many times our size. And thirdly there’s the belief that people who are not British are spineless, lack our “Bulldog Spirit” and will always give in when threatened.
+
+The unfortunate truth – for us – is that European countries have matured. After two World Wars on their own landmass they have come to realise that the benefits of cooperation greatly outweigh those of dominance. They have become as adept at shopkeeping as we are, having imported or developed their own skills, and even those with an Imperial past (e.g. France, Germany, Holland, Italy or Spain) now value diplomacy and polite behaviour. And they have developed a level of self-respect that is in no way inferior to ours, making them very hard to push around, as even the USA has discovered.
+
+Our own Government, though, is presiding without any sense of discomfort over a tidal wave of xenophobia pouring from the tabloid press, intended for domestic consumption but ignoring the fact that Europeans can also read English. The lies and insults continue on a daily basis while saner, quieter voices are either ignored or monstered in the press, leaving threats to be seen as an acceptable substitute for careful diplomacy.
+
+To change this strategy would require a complete overhaul of the way we are conditioned to see ourselves and our place in the world. Perhaps after our suicide vest has detonated, what is left of our country may rally round those who advocate a less belligerent path, though I fear this will take some time and we will encounter many hardships on the road to restoring our reputation, if we are ever able to do so. But the education system would be a good place to start.