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Tuesday, 18 September 2007 |
To whom it may concern:
As a South African exchange student living
in France, I’m writing to you in concern with
an issue which has arisen in the South
African rugby department.
The ruling government party of South
Africa has put forward a motion to change
the name of the South African Springboks to
the Ama Bokka Bokka, and completely
remove the symbol of the springbok from the
rugby emblem. I am a passionate supporter
of my country's rugby team, have always
been proud of its image and am not happy
about this proposed motion.
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Tuesday, 18 September 2007 |
Dear Editor,
Could they talk, the lemurs in your August
edition (“Madagascarian monkey business”)
would have told you that they are neither apes
nor monkeys (despite living in the Vallée des
Singes), and not Madagascarian either
(though they like the word) but Malagasy
(malgache in French).
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Monday, 17 September 2007 |
Barry Cornell struggles on to get it up in the Haute-Vienne.
I promised last month to
keep you informed of
progress on my house
extension. Well, there isn’t
any. So that’s that.
Mind you, I know the
builders are still around, in
the same intuitive way you
know that you have mice, or
piles: you don’t actually see
them but they betray their
existence by leaving little
clues behind: perhaps bits of
chewed cheese or small
droppings (the mice, that is,
not the builders). I don’t
know exactly when or why
the circular saw suddenly
appeared in the downstairs
cloakrooms, or which of
them is responsible for the
mysterious delivery of half
an above-ground swimming
pool. Dammit, I only want
an extra bathroom and a
study! What’s more, I’m
starting to think that, like
inflation and Johnny
Halliday, these builders will
always be with us. They have
gradually smuggled in all the
trappings necessary for a
long stay: thermos flasks,
spare thermos flasks, a longwave
radio, folding stools,
even a small dining table, for
God’s sake. A bit ominous,
all that, when the job was
scheduled for completion by
the end of May. But never
mind, they clearly haven’t
forgotten me.
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Monday, 17 September 2007 |
Barry Cornell struggles on to get it up in the Haute-Vienne.
I promised last month to
keep you informed of
progress on my house
extension. Well, there isn’t
any. So that’s that.
Mind you, I know the
builders are still around, in
the same intuitive way you
know that you have mice, or
piles: you don’t actually see
them but they betray their
existence by leaving little
clues behind: perhaps bits of
chewed cheese or small
droppings (the mice, that is,
not the builders). I don’t
know exactly when or why
the circular saw suddenly
appeared in the downstairs
cloakrooms, or which of
them is responsible for the
mysterious delivery of half
an above-ground swimming
pool. Dammit, I only want
an extra bathroom and a
study! What’s more, I’m
starting to think that, like
inflation and Johnny
Halliday, these builders will
always be with us. They have
gradually smuggled in all the
trappings necessary for a
long stay: thermos flasks,
spare thermos flasks, a longwave
radio, folding stools,
even a small dining table, for
God’s sake. A bit ominous,
all that, when the job was
scheduled for completion by
the end of May. But never
mind, they clearly haven’t
forgotten me.
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Monday, 17 September 2007 |
appeal for democratic rights to the European Court of
Human Rights. The Court has decreed that it is a valid
appeal, but it has yet to be heard. David Burrage, a resident
of Alicante, has claimed unfair treatment of British citizens
by the Westminster Government on several counts, but most
especially that he and others have no representation in the
House of Commons solely because they have lived abroad
for more than 15 years. He claims likewise that as an expublic
servant of the UK, he is taxed by Britain; his income
is controlled by Britain; he has deep links to Britain and
what happens there in law affects him and his family.
This is very similar to the claims I made here in April
this year. Unlike most other European citizens, I have no
say in my national destiny in any referendum that may be
called from time to time over matters affecting the
European Union, neither in my country of birth nor my host
State. In effect, you become politically stateless within
Europe.
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