That you've only to pay 'em the Dane-geld And then you'll get rid of the Dane!

It is always a temptation to an armed and agile nation
  To call upon a neighbour and to say: --
"We invaded you last night--we are quite prepared to fight,
  Unless you pay us cash to go away."

And that is called asking for Dane-geld,
  And the people who ask it explain
That you've only to pay 'em the Dane-geld
  And then  you'll get rid of the Dane!

It is always a temptation for a rich and lazy nation,
  To puff and look important and to say: --
"Though we know we should defeat you, we have not the time to meet you.
  We will therefore pay you cash to go away."

And that is called paying the Dane-geld;
  But we've  proved it again and  again,
That if once you have paid him the Dane-geld
  You never get rid of the Dane.

It is wrong to put temptation in the path of any nation,
  For fear they should succumb and go astray;
So when you are requested to pay up or be molested,
  You will find it better policy to say: --

"We never pay any-one Dane-geld,
  No matter how trifling the cost;
For the end of that game is oppression and shame,
  And the nation that pays it is lost!"

WKRLEM: Pay the Danegeld.

I watch a lot of English TV. American TV has just become to needlessly bloody and coarse. Every show has serial killers and burned and an eviscerated corpse in every other scene. Even a dumb fun series like Hawaii Five O has to have scenes set in the morgue where the detectives talk over the dead body that has just been autopsied and you get to see all the marks and cuts the doctor used. It is just unnecessary.

So I enjoy the English shows that are not as bloody. They have  smart detectives and historical dramas and funny comedies. Downton Abby. Lark Rise to Candleford. Vera. Silk. Grantchester. Doc Martin.  Stella. Last Tango to Halifax. Call the Midwife. Best of all are the shows set during World War 2. Folye's War. Home Fires.

Home Fires in particular is very enjoyable. It is about a village at the beginning of World War Two and how the villagers cope with the war effort. The English are shown to be plucky doughty fighters. Fighting to their last breath to resist the Nazi's. Everyone from the vicar in the church to the washerwoman were in on the fight to the knife.

That England is dead.

Now they let Muslims groom and rape their children. They let them cut the head off their soldiers on the streets of London. They let their children be murdered at pop concerts. They don't do anything about it.

A Leg Of Lamb

Gigot d'agneau rôti à la Palladian

'Tis wond'rous strange, that I should be compelled to cook a leg of lamb, at this moment in my life. I lost a lot, a lot has gone wrong for me, with me, and through it all I have done my best to survive. In need of somewhere to sleep during the summer of 2013, I decided that it was only fair that I offer something, or some service, to sheltering friends in return for their kindness (and tolerance). So I decided to cook for my keep.

For these sheltering friends I have cooked meals great and small, familiar and revelatory. Often my cooking depends upon what I can find on offer at the supermarkets in small towns. Recently I decided to cook a special dinner, a feast of gratitude for my hosts, so I went to the local supermarket and searched for inspiration in the meat section. There were a lot of beasts and cuts of beasts available, but none seemed special enough to express my appreciation for my friends' hospitality. There were chickens, a bit too ordinary. Some frozen quail, but not enough. There were some thin, greying steaks with ridiculous prices, and some forlorn frozen turkeys with torn wrappings.

And then I saw, next to the overpriced organic beef and "Hundred Calorie" steaks (which looked to be rounds of beaten beef about the size of a large slice of pepperoni and half as appetizing), a leg of lamb. Lamb, in the small town where I was staying, is an unusual meat so stores usually carry little of it. I suspect that much of it reaches its "Sell By" date unsold. This was such a piece of lamb, its price reduced: 50% off. A very good buy, and not a bad leg at all, shrink-wrapped as it was, and from Australia. So I bought it. My feast of gratitude would feature lamb. A late-summer, shrink-wrapped, special-offer leg of lamb, from the other side of the earth to this rural American supermarket.