November 2006

Nov 2. Strip 76.
Guy Fawkes Night.
Remember, remember, the fifth of November, gunpowder treason and plot, as the old rhyme I was taught at school went. Ironically, I’ve forgotten the rest of it. November 5th is bonfire night, when we all gather around bonfires to burn an effigy of the Catholic plotter who was caught in the cellars of the Houses of Parliament trying to blow up the King as he opened a new Session of Parliament in 1605. He’s the face on the mask worn by the protagonist of V for Vendetta.
Guy Fawkes night is also an excuse for big fireworks displays. We do this because a) it gets dark early enough for the kids to enjoy it, b) the countryside is now damp enough not to be turned into a flaming inferno by a stray spark and c) it’s fun, and not because d) we used to have an irrational fear of Catholics.
Because fireworks are on sale from every newsagents in the land in the run up to Guy Fawkes Night, it’s now tended to turn into Guy Fawkes bloody fortnight.

Nov 3. Strip 77.
Thoughtcrime.
One of the stupider aspects of the war on terror (which of course is designed to promote fear as much as possible) is the series of thoughtcrime acts that Tony Blair brought in towards the end of his stint as PM. It is now a crime to ‘promote’ terrorism. This was meant to stop a few Islamic extremists from spouting their words of hate in public. Of course it’s now forced them underground and made them more attractive to those with a disposition to listen to them, and instead it has led to the arrest of a well meaning girl who dared to read out a list of dead soldiers serving in Iraq outside the Houses of Paliament. I digress. It’s surprising how many people think we’re celebrating what Guy Fawkes was doing on Bonfire Night, rather than condemning him.

Nov 6. Strip 79.
Remembrance.
Our equivalent of Veterans Day is Remembrance Sunday, which is the Sunday nearest to the 11th day of the Eleventh month, the anniversary of the end of the First World War. At 11am, veterans of the armed forces and civilians gather around the war memorials that can be fund in every town and village and pay their respects to the fallen by taking part in the 2 minutes silence. Another way of remembering is to wear a poppy in your lapel - a blood red symbol of the killing fields of the Somme. These are plastic and paper affairs, sold by representatives of the British Legion, with all the proceeds going to Vets' charities. You’ll find them on street corners, outside mall entrances, and even entering schools and offices, selling poppies. Everyone wears them.
We may remember the senseless slaughter, but we never learn from it.

Nov 10. Strip 83.
Tuppence thruppence buppence.
Ha’pennies (or half a pee as they became known after decimalisation) haven’t existed for at least ten years, since their scrap metal value became more than that stamped on the coin. Strange to think that before 1971 there were 480 of the things to the pound and they were the size of dinner plates.

Nov 11. Strip 84.
Smile for the camera.
There are more cameras watching us in Britain per person than there are anywhere else in the free world. And, scarily, no-one turns a hair. Thank goodness for good old British incompetence, which means that if ever they do become the tools of a totalitarian regime, it’ll be the crappest totalitarian regime in the world.

Nov 12. Strip 85.
The sphere.
This was the series of strips that finally got me noticed by the editors at Compics Sherpa. In celebration Linda bought me a sphere which sits on a shelf in my study, and occasionally gets brought down to confuse the cats.

Nov 13. Strip 86.
Rentacops.
We also get our first sightings of Blantyre and Dixon this week, in walk on parts. Dixon’s name comes from a long running BBC series about a local bobby, Dixon of Dock Green, which ran on Saturday nights through the 60s and 70s. Blantyre is named after a local open prison.