The No-Fly Problem.

Former USAF Chief of Staff and 6000 hour fighter pilot General Merrill McPeak on the problems of a Libyan No-Fly Zone, as quoted in The New York Times:

“I can’t imagine an easier military problem. If we can’t impose a no-fly zone over a not even third-rate military power like Libya, then we ought to take a hell of a lot of our military budget and spend it on something usable. Just flying a few jets across the top of the friendlies would probably be enough to ground the Libyan Air Force, which is the objective.”


pragueJust back from Prague, where I spent a gorgeous weekend with the love-of-my-life. I won’t give a travelogue, as there are those capable of being far more comprehensive than me, but a few observations.

Stayed in the Park Inn ( which, although a little further out of the city centre than you’d like, is well served by a tram that can get you in, in less than 10 minutes. They do a nice breakfast (I always judge a place by its scrambled eggs, and they passed with flying colours) and it is worth getting a “business-friendly” room for it’s airiness.

Took an evening dinner cruise, which was slightly naff, but the food was good and sitting on a open deck on a warm summer evening going through Prague is really very pleasant, and a good way of getting your bearings.

Had a meal in Dynamo (, where the service was a little slow, but the modern European food was excellent, and reasonably priced, and the murderous decor has to be seen to be believed.

Prague is a great city to stroll about on a warm summer evening, absolutely jammers with small pubs and restuarants full of character. One tip: The tram system is very handy, but plan when you want to get it, as tram ticket machines aren’t that plentiful (mostly in metro stations) and keep your coins, as the machines don’t accomodate note laden tourists. 

Nothing to do with me, guv.

Frosties? Hate the f**king things.
Watching Questions and Answers last night I was thrilled to see the return of that great Irish trait, the “It’s all dem up dere’s fault!”
It was a delight to listen to people bitching about how Fianna Fail “squandered” all the money and how the property boom was let run wild like Britney Spears at an Inappropriate Husband convention.
Yet we elected them. 3 times. I’m not a Fianna Failer, and I didn’t vote for them, but they were elected by us. And all that “squandered” money? Remember those tax cuts and massive increases in public spending and benchmarking that we all cheered? Remember all those people who sneered at the idea of property taxes or called restricting mortgages to 85% “treating the Irish people like children?”
That was us, that was.
Do not ask for whom took the Celtic Tiger out into the car park and kicked the crap out of it, for it was us.

Jason enters the late 1990s!

As with every piece of technology, I arrive late to it, and so here I am apparently blogging just as it becomes unfashionable.  Kind of like that moment when Tony Blair started wearing combats and the arse (Pardon the pun. Oh go on.) fell out of the combat jeans market.

I’ve been advised to write as if I’m being read by thousands, as opposed to myself, a Norwegian blogger named Bjorn with a fetish for bearded federalists, and a cat who has managed to accidentally land on this blog whilst trying to scratch itself against a keyboard. So, hello Bjorn. Or should that be hello with a line through it? I don’t know. I’m not Norwegian, and you can’t make me be either.

So what will I be posting? Mostly nonsense that I talk to myself in my cold winter bed, along with the odd review of books, music or DVD that I liked and is a bit off the beaten track, let us say. And some political stuff, including going at the more monkey shit (Full of nuts) element of the No campaign with all the vigour of a Barack Obama appointed FBI director leading a raid on a Ku Klux Klan Christmas Dinner Dance, just after they start playing the Moody Blues. (Knights in White Satin, just in case you’re wondering. Get it? Forget it. I’m wasted on you people.)    

By the way, if you have absolutely no interest in politics whatsoever you might find this a bit hard going, as I mainline my politics.  Having said that, I will try to write about politics as it applies to life, not the bolloxology that passes for politics (Bolitics? Tip of the hat to Mr. Colin Scuffins for that particular turn of phrase.) in our national parliament.

So here’s hoping I’m not writing to myself, as it is almost certainly not one of the more pleasureable things I could be doing on my own.

I’m talking about watching The West Wing, you foul perverts.