James F Gilham 🎥🇨🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇮🇱

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James F Gilham 🎥🇨🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇮🇱

James F Gilham 🎥🇨🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇮🇱

@JamesGilham

Happily retired, working on my videos. Proudly have been an Analyst, Technician, Researcher, Investigator, Broadcaster, Mechanic. Always a Student.

West Kelowna, BC, CANADA Katılım Mart 2011
198 Takip Edilen95 Takipçiler
James F Gilham 🎥🇨🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇮🇱 retweetledi
Gianl1974
Gianl1974@Gianl1974·
“Why do some British people not like Donald Trump?” Nate White, an articulate and witty writer from England wrote the following response: A few things spring to mind. Trump lacks certain qualities which the British traditionally esteem. For instance, he has no class, no charm, no coolness, no credibility, no compassion, no wit, no warmth, no wisdom, no subtlety, no sensitivity, no self-awareness, no humility, no honour and no grace – all qualities, funnily enough, with which his predecessor Mr. Obama was generously blessed. So for us, the stark contrast does rather throw Trump’s limitations into embarrassingly sharp relief. Plus, we like a laugh. And while Trump may be laughable, he has never once said anything wry, witty or even faintly amusing – not once, ever. I don’t say that rhetorically, I mean it quite literally: not once, not ever. And that fact is particularly disturbing to the British sensibility – for us, to lack humour is almost inhuman. But with Trump, it’s a fact. He doesn’t even seem to understand what a joke is – his idea of a joke is a crass comment, an illiterate insult, a casual act of cruelty. Trump is a troll. And like all trolls, he is never funny and he never laughs; he only crows or jeers. And scarily, he doesn’t just talk in crude, witless insults – he actually thinks in them. His mind is a simple bot-like algorithm of petty prejudices and knee-jerk nastiness. There is never any under-layer of irony, complexity, nuance or depth. It’s all surface. Some Americans might see this as refreshingly upfront. Well, we don’t. We see it as having no inner world, no soul. And in Britain we traditionally side with David, not Goliath. All our heroes are plucky underdogs: Robin Hood, Dick Whittington, Oliver Twist. Trump is neither plucky, nor an underdog. He is the exact opposite of that. He’s not even a spoiled rich-boy, or a greedy fat-cat. He’s more a fat white slug. A Jabba the Hutt of privilege. And worse, he is that most unforgivable of all things to the British: a bully. That is, except when he is among bullies; then he suddenly transforms into a snivelling sidekick instead. There are unspoken rules to this stuff – the Queensberry rules of basic decency – and he breaks them all. He punches downwards – which a gentleman should, would, could never do – and every blow he aims is below the belt. He particularly likes to kick the vulnerable or voiceless – and he kicks them when they are down. So the fact that a significant minority – perhaps a third – of Americans look at what he does, listen to what he says, and then think ‘Yeah, he seems like my kind of guy’ is a matter of some confusion and no little distress to British people, given that: • Americans are supposed to be nicer than us, and mostly are. • You don’t need a particularly keen eye for detail to spot a few flaws in the man. This last point is what especially confuses and dismays British people, and many other people too; his faults seem pretty bloody hard to miss. After all, it’s impossible to read a single tweet, or hear him speak a sentence or two, without staring deep into the abyss. He turns being artless into an art form; he is a Picasso of pettiness; a Shakespeare of shit. His faults are fractal: even his flaws have flaws, and so on ad infinitum. God knows there have always been stupid people in the world, and plenty of nasty people too. But rarely has stupidity been so nasty, or nastiness so stupid. He makes Nixon look trustworthy and George W look smart. In fact, if Frankenstein decided to make a monster assembled entirely from human flaws – he would make a Trump. And a remorseful Doctor Frankenstein would clutch out big clumpfuls of hair and scream in anguish: ‘My God… what… have… I… created?' If being a twat was a TV show, Trump would be the boxed set.
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Proudofus.uk
Proudofus.uk@ProudofusUK·
The German military had a code machine. 🇬🇧 159,000,000,000,000,000,000 possible settings. Changed every twenty-four hours. They called it unbreakable. Every order. Every U-boat position. Every battle plan encrypted and sent through the air. Britain put ten thousand people in a country house in Buckinghamshire. Mathematicians. Linguists. Chess champions. Crossword solvers. And a quiet man named Alan Turing. He designed a machine to crack the unbreakable code. A room full of spinning drums testing millions of combinations until the right one clicked into place. It worked. Every Nazi message. Every U-boat position. Every attack plan. Britain could read them all. And Germany never knew. For years, the Allies knew what the enemy was planning before the enemy had finished planning it. It shortened the war by two years. Millions of lives saved. Because of ten thousand people in a country house that nobody was supposed to know about. Then the war ended. And they went home. Every one of them had signed the Official Secrets Act. Every one was sworn to silence. For thirty years, nobody knew. Husbands never told their wives. Mothers never told their children. They helped win the war. And never said a word. They kept the secret for thirty years. The least we can do is tell the story. Be Proud Of Us. 🇬🇧 Be part of us 👇 Sources, support and more at proudofus.co.uk
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