Author: Mike Cunningham

Born in England in 1940 in the middle of the Blitz, the youngest of three brothers, he survived an early death after a gas leak filled his bedroom in Jarrow. His sister, who was born ten years later, died at a tragically-early age of sixteen from leukaemia. He joined the Merchant Navy after an Engineering education, and spent seven-odd years living a footloose existence at sea, but met the light of his life, the girl who is now his wife of now forty-seven years while in London. Lived in South Africa for eighteen years while raising three kids, all of whom are now Engineers of varying disciplines themselves. Worked in Africa, and then in England in heavy Engineering, on water, sewage, power and electricity projects, watching the steady decline, in Great Britain, of all types of manufacturing and engineering excellence for the next twenty-five years. This decline mainly due to a combination of political interference and political ineptitude. Likes and loves his family, giving special attention to the three Grandsons who are all both independent and always smiling! Is very proud of his three adult kids. Interests range from politics to blogging and writing, from classical music to photography. Is taking a special interest these days in local council political matters. He has had two books published, one of which is a book in both print and Kindle, and is a novel about Right-wing politics, with four more available as e-books. Politically, he is inclined towards the Right, but is constantly depressed by what is on offer on that side of the political divide. Dislikes the very idea of the European Union, and is forlornly awaiting any Party to keep their promises regarding that bureaucracy-ridden place by the offer of a Referendum. High on any wish-list is an importation of the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States into the political life of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, so that once more Freemen can speak Freely, without recourse to euphemisms and double-speak!

Plimsoll Lines

I was chatting with a car sales employee the other morning, waiting my turn to speak with the sales rep with whom I had an appointment. He was a Geordie, the same as I am, and as we talked, the…

The only sentence? Life without Parole!

When I write about mental health or mental illnesses, I write from personal knowledge of a problem which has been with my wife for over 45 years. Over the years which I have lived with this devastating mental illness; namely…

The wages of sin is death.

I have often wondered about the true statistic of State-sanctioned murder in both the USA and the UK. Because what else could be termed State-sanctioned murder but Abortion? The spark of life exists from the moment of conception, and who…

Leave: Depart: Quit!

As along with a solid number of others, bloggers, writers; people who actually think: I have studied the entrails, read the statements, figured out what exactly is on offer in the turgid depths of the Cameron/Tusk/EU cess-pit generated document, and…

A salute to a valiant Man

Professor Bob Carter is dead. Forget the imbecilic paeans of praise for Bowie, place to one side the nicer memories of Terry Wogan; we have lost a giant, who spoke common sense to his bitter critics, and we should remember…