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Those Kids, today, on strike, awsome souls, very correct in thier judgement.


bamber
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1 minute ago, Mardy said:

Yeah, definitely. Mind you, alot of aging punks/mods are pure Brexit too. Never trust anyone over 30

Indeed, lots of the supposed Hippies, Punks and alternatives living round me turned out to be leavers. Immigration being their main bugbear.  I don't get it and I don't get the blindness in this country. What have become?

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38 minutes ago, Mardy said:

There's absolutely one song that sums up this, and it was, ironically, written 55 years ago. 

 

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.

Superb. Always loved Donny Tourette.

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"Something About England"

They say immigrants steal the hubcaps Of the respected gentlemen They say it would be wine an' roses If England were for Englishmen again Well I saw a dirty overcoat At the foot of the pillar of the road Propped inside was an old man Whom time would not erode When the night was snapped by sirens Those blue lights circled past The dancehall called for an' ambulance The bars all closed up fast My silence gazing at the ceiling While roaming the single room I thought the old man could help me If he could explain the gloom You really think it's all new You really think about it too The old man scoffed as he spoke to me I'll tell you a thing or two I missed the fourteen-eighteen war But not the sorrow afterwards With my father dead and my mother ran off My brothers took the pay of hoods The twenties turned the north was dead The hunger strike came marching south At the garden party not a word was said The ladies lifted cake to their mouths The next war began and my ship sailed With battle orders writ in bed In five long years of bullets and shells We left ten million dead The few returned to old Piccadily We limped around Leicester Square The world was busy rebuilding itself The architects could not care But how could we know when I was young All the changes that were to come? All the photos in the wallets on the battlefield And now the terror of the scientific sun There was masters an' servants an' servants an' dogs They taught you how to touch your cap But through strikes an' famine an' war an' peace England never closed this gap So leave me now the moon is up But remember all the tales I tell The memories that you have dredged up Are on letters forwarded from hell The streets were by now deserted The gangs had trudged off home The lights clicked off in the bedsits An' old England was all alone

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33 minutes ago, matt2007 said:

So two of my kids school have said that sanctions may be put in place if this happens again. So why did I spend hours helping them with their climate change projects and presentations?

Kind of the point with a strike, isn't it? That you might face some sanctions/backlash while doing it, shows that you think some things are more important. Have seen kids from several countries that happily accept detention to be part of a climate protest. 

What kind of sanctions are we talking about in this case?

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1 hour ago, crocodiles said:

"Something About England"

They say immigrants steal the hubcaps Of the respected gentlemen They say it would be wine an' roses If England were for Englishmen again Well I saw a dirty overcoat At the foot of the pillar of the road Propped inside was an old man Whom time would not erode When the night was snapped by sirens Those blue lights circled past The dancehall called for an' ambulance The bars all closed up fast My silence gazing at the ceiling While roaming the single room I thought the old man could help me If he could explain the gloom You really think it's all new You really think about it too The old man scoffed as he spoke to me I'll tell you a thing or two I missed the fourteen-eighteen war But not the sorrow afterwards With my father dead and my mother ran off My brothers took the pay of hoods The twenties turned the north was dead The hunger strike came marching south At the garden party not a word was said The ladies lifted cake to their mouths The next war began and my ship sailed With battle orders writ in bed In five long years of bullets and shells We left ten million dead The few returned to old Piccadily We limped around Leicester Square The world was busy rebuilding itself The architects could not care But how could we know when I was young All the changes that were to come? All the photos in the wallets on the battlefield And now the terror of the scientific sun There was masters an' servants an' servants an' dogs They taught you how to touch your cap But through strikes an' famine an' war an' peace England never closed this gap So leave me now the moon is up But remember all the tales I tell The memories that you have dredged up Are on letters forwarded from hell The streets were by now deserted The gangs had trudged off home The lights clicked off in the bedsits An' old England was all alone

Cash comes before Clash. Unfortunately.

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5 hours ago, StupidDream said:

Kind of the point with a strike, isn't it? That you might face some sanctions/backlash while doing it, shows that you think some things are more important. Have seen kids from several countries that happily accept detention to be part of a climate protest. 

What kind of sanctions are we talking about in this case?

Detention, asking parents to come to school for "chat" about, one school talked about fining parents

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My daughter went to this, I’m feeling pretty proud of her right now as she has become very passionate about this issue, the school was very good about it and said they can’t give permission to go but still support their actions. 

Charm x

Edited by Charm
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