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Tell Gordon Brown: ‘Scrap bank bonuses, save our jobs’
by Mark Dolan, CWU postal union rep, north London
Have the priorities of the system we live under ever been more clearly exposed than by the events of the past week?
A few hundred bankers who helped bring the economy to the brink of collapse are being rewarded for their failures with fat bonuses—all to be paid for with billions of pounds of our money, of course.
They will spend the rest of the month celebrating in restaurants where a night out can cost more than a postal worker earns in a year.
For once they have a very good point, it's quite unsavoury to see NL schmoozing with the rich kids whilst ‘ordinary hard working families™’ go to the wall, that’s the Tories job.
Science isn't about why, it's about why not. You ask: why is so much of our science dangerous? I say: why not marry safe science if you love it so much. In fact, why not invent a special safety door that won't hit you in the butt on the way out, because you are fired. - Cave Johnson
They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
And the Beaver, excited at last,
Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
For the daylight was nearly past.
"There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said,
"He is shouting like mad, only hark!
He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
He has certainly found a Snark!"
They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
"He was always a desperate wag!"
They beheld him--their Baker--their hero unnamed--
On the top of a neighbouring crag,
Erect and sublime, for one moment of time
In the next, that wild figure they saw
(As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
While they waited and listened in awe.
"It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
And seemed almost too good to be true.
Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
Then the ominous words "It's a Boo-"
Then, silence. Some fancied they heard in the air
A weary and wandering sigh
Then sounded like "-jum!" but the others declare
It was only a breeze that went by.
They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
Not a button, or feather, or mark,
By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
Where the Baker had met with the Snark.
In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
In the midst of his laughter and glee,
He had softly and suddenly vanished away--- For the Snark was a Boojum, you see.
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