Welcome To The EU Canada

It is the pure bad luck of geography that Canada finds itself a neighbour of the United States while the nutty right wing facists are in control and unless the tectonic plates are going into overdrive soon, there is nothing they can do about it but they have been making eyes at the EU recently and the EU have been winking and playing footsie straight back at them.
With the sex pest (probable) pedophile in the White House handing out tariffs and generally treating Canada the same way as he does Moscow Hotel mattresses, last month, France’s foreign minister Jean-Noël Barrot floated the idea that Canada could one day join the European Union, with Finnish president Alexander Stubb likewise suggesting to Canadian prime minister Mark Carney that he should think about joining the EU.
In a February 2026 poll conducted by Abacus Data it found that 48% of Canadians support Canada becoming a member of the EU and that the feeling is reciprocated on our side of the Atlantic with the five largest EU member states, France, Germany, Italy, Poland and Spain, all saying that they would support admitting Canada to the European Union.
The most obvious obstacle to Canadian accession to the EU is geography and Article 49 of the Treaty on European Union limits membership to 'European states' which is a problem for a North American country.
That said Canada does have partnerships with the EU such as the Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA) which lowers tariffs, expands market access and created mechanisms for regulatory cooperation and investment protection and there are nations outside of the EU (Norway, Iceland, Switzerland and to some degree the UK) who have treaties signed with the EU so things are possible outside of actual membership.
Another option could be to expand the Strategic Partnership Agreement (SPA) between Canada and the EU which was signed in 2016, and was designed to 'deepen and broaden bilateral cooperation on a wide range of issues such as international peace and security, counter-terrorism, human rights and nuclear non-proliferation, clean energy and climate change, migration and peaceful pluralism, sustainable development, and innovation'.
Obviously opening the EU up to nations outside of Europe could be a sore point and bring all sorts of problems but i'd be open to it, just as long as it doesn't give them a free pass to the Eurovision Song Contest, that would be a step too far for the nation that gave us Bryan Adams and Justin Bieber. 

Why Nuclear Power At All?

When it comes to Nuclear Power, i am very much undecided as on the one hand it is clean energy compared to fossil fuels but then it does create waste which remains dangerous for tens of thousands of years and if their is an accident at the plants...all out disaster, the Chernobyl nuclear disaster in 1986 spread radiation across Europe and substantial parts of Belarus and Ukraine are still cordoned off today.
A poll by YouGov 40 years on from the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, shows that i am not the only one with Britons divided on whether nuclear energy is safe.
The Government have recently given the green light to a new power station in Anglesey but around half of Brits (51%) generally support the use of nuclear power with 37% saying we should actively be getting more of its energy from nuclear with 23% believing the UK should reduce the amount of electricity it gets from nuclear energy.
The big take away is that nuclear has fewer enthusiasts than renewable energy sources with 55% wanting the UK to get more of its energy from onshore wind, 63% favouring more energy from bio-fuel and geothermal sources, 67% wanting more offshore wind or hydro-electric power, and 73% backing more electricity being generated through tidal and solar power.
As the Chernobyl disaster demonstrated, nuclear power stations do have the potential to go very badly wrong and 45% believe that today's nuclear energy is typically safe and it may well be but the highly toxic waste, currently we have 4.58 million cubic meters, enough to fill Wembley, which we are struggling to deal with (currently it is in storage while trying to develop a long-term solution to bury it) which has a half life ranging between decades and 100,000 years so until that problem is sorted, generating even more seems we are merely switching a problem of polluting the air to polluting the ground.
Why we are not putting as much money and resources into renewable sources as we do nuclear is a question for the politicians but it does seem madness to be looking at a nuclear answer when ramping up the much cleaner and safer wind, solar and tidal power is the obvious solution.

Special Guest Blogger: Marcus Junius Brutus

Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed followers of Roman scandal, i'm the man history remembers as the guy who stabbed his best friend for the greater good.
My life was a tragicomic romp through power, betrayal, and the eternal struggle to outwit a man who clearly needed to learn the meaning of the word moderation.
My family name was as esteemed as a boiled asparagus as in it was rare, revered, and occasionally stabbed with a fork. The Brutus's were Rome’s answer to a well-tailored toga as we were conservative, respectable, and slightly stiff at dinner parties. My ancestors could have founded a bank, but instead, they opted for the more dramatic career of assassination conspiracy starters. (My great-uncle once poisoned a rival by hiding poison in a fig).
Growing up, I was drilled with the virtues of libertas or freedom and the necessity of looking very solemn in public portraits. I mastered the art of the deadpan stare by age 12 which set the stage for my most esteemed career choice: political theater.
Now, let’s talk about the man I’ll forever be linked to, Julius Caesar. A brilliant general? Undoubtedly. A master of self-promotion? Beyond reproach but by the time Caesar returned to Rome, he was as popular as a chariot salesman at a gladiator’s birthday party.
My problem with Caesar was he had the ego of a man who’d just been anointed by Zeus himself and he was exhausting. In hindsight, maybe I should’ve sent him a strongly worded letter but instead, I joined a stabbing circle.
Assassinating a leader is never a decision to make lightly or, you know, at all. But there we were, a ragtag group of senators with more spears than sense, plotting in the shadow of Caesar’s growing tyranny.
The day of the assassination was a masterclass in chaos. I arrived at the Senate with a heart full of conviction and a sleeve full of daggers. Caesar, ever the drama queen, walked in looking suspiciously unimpressed by the 40-something men lurking in togas. When I finally plunged my blade into his back, he muttered, 'Et tu, Brute?' which is a line that would later be overquoted by Shakespearean actors.
So was I the good guy who did it for Rome or the bad guy who betrayed his best mate but in my defence Caesar was a terrible leader although after Caesar’s death, things unraveled. Antony, our friend’s rival, turned the people against me with a speech that made me sound like the villain and i fled to Greece, raised an army, and faced Antony at the Battle of Philippi.
Spoiler: I lost. Spectacularly and my final moments were a mix of dignity, bad swordsmanship, and a truly dreadful last speech. I’d scripted something inspiring about liberty and legacy, but I died with my head held high, especially when it was cut off and held up for the baying crowd to see.

Europe Celebrating

Donald Trump: Those European countries are absolutely horrible to refuse to support our war in Iran so I'm going to withdraw US troops from Europe.
Europe: Woo Hoo.
Donald Trump: I mean it, no more US Troops in Europe.
Europe: We heard. Very sad, boo hoo, so do you need a hand packing?
Donald Trump: Do you understand what that means?
Europe: Yep, hey Macron, got the Champagne?
Donald Trump: I'm not joking.
Europe: Are you still here?
Donald Trump: If you won't help me in my war why should we have Troops there?
Europe: Good point, so you promise not to come back? No crossed fingers or anything?
Donald Trump: No, gone forever.
Europe: And you are promising that? You don't have a great reputation for telling the truth you know.
Donald Trump:  I swear it.
Europe: Result!! So long, farewell Auf Wiederseh'n, adieu
Donald Trump: <silence>
Europe: Has he gone or just fallen asleep again?  
Donald Trump: <silence>
Europe: Frederiksen, Macron, Merz, Meloni, Sánchez, grab a bottle and head to Downing Street. Its Party Time!!!!

Antidisestablishmentarianism

The Church of England is the established state church, with King Charles III as its Supreme Governor and 26 bishops sitting in the House of Lords so there is a close relationship with the state which means that as an establishment, the state can withdrawal it's recognition known as disestablishment which will annoy some churchy types who will try to oppose it which is called antidisestablishmentarianism.
Yep, i had to Google all that but the serious point is that as Church numbers fall to unsustainable levels, why is the Church of England still holding such sway over matters when only a small percentage of us actually pay any attention to it?
So to some antidisestablishmentarianisers (made up word?), they don't believe that establishments such as the CoE should be disestablished but if many of us had our way, we would remove all traces of religion from having any representation with the State which makes them supporting  prosestablishmentarianism i guess but whatever, it isn't going to happen so it's all actually floccinaucinihilipilification but at least having  a word like antidisestablishmentarianism bandied around annoys the people with hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia, and that's worth something.

Protest Israel, Not Jews

Awful knife attacks against two Jews yesterday in Golders Green and Keir Starmer turned up today to pass on his sympathy to the Jewish Community and was heckled and accused the government of failing to keep Jewish people safe.
He replied that the Government will strengthen the visible police presence in Jewish communities and  prevent hate preachers from entering our country and speed up sentencing on antisemitic attacks but i don't know what else the Government can do although one  
One Jewish community leader says the language used by the media to describe the Middle East conflict had put targets on the Jewish community's back and called for us to be careful with our words, especially using the word 'genocide' to describe what Israel is doing in Gaza conflict.
Unfortunately, what Israel is doing in Gaza IS a genocide so it has to be called what it is, anything else would be disingenuous so we can't just overlook that, have to call it what it is.  
According to the Home Office, Jewish people are six times more likely to be the victim of a religious hate crime compared to any other major religious group and most concerningly, religious hate crimes targeting Jewish individuals appear to be on the rise. Between 2021/22 and 2024/25, police forces across England and Wales recorded a 25% increase in these crimes.
One Jewish leader even went as far as blaming Keir Starmer for not joining in the Iran War with America and Israel which flies in the face of the majority of the British Public who back the decision not to get involved.
The problem is, in some minds, Israel and Jews are conflated to mean the same thing and it doesn't help when people like Netanyahu are quick to paint any attack on Israel as antisemitic which it isn't, the demonstrations and protests are against what Israel are doing in the Middle East, nothing to do with Judaism or as tjhe protests against the Iraq and Afghan Wars were not protesting against Christianity because America and Britain were conducting them.
It is somehow breaking the link in the sick minds of some people who are unable to see the difference between the two, that's what the UK Government can do, not ban marches against the Israeli Genocide, it will take some sort of education of the complete difference because until then, this will keep sadly happening.   

Iran War Silver Lining

If anything good is to come out of the Iranian conflict, is that it has focused minds that fossil fuels are not good although we may get to the result through economics rather than because we are destroying our planet.
The United Nations today said that the conflict in Iran has: supercharged the boom in renewable power' and with perfect timing the Automobile Association announced that electric vehicle numbers in Britain have hit a record high of two million amidst a worldwide buying spree and further news that Britons have installed new solar power at the highest monthly rate in 10 years. New electric vehicle sales in March were up 66% in Germany and 69% in France and by 72% in Italy as as the rising cost of petrol highlights the cheaper power available from a plug.
Oil and gas prices have soared as Trump and Netanyahu's disastrous conflict in Iran chokes off about a fifth of global oil  supplies and spreads misery.
'Those who've fought to keep the world hooked on fossil fuels are inadvertently supercharging the global renewables boom' the man from the UN said and the energy secretary of the Philippines agreed, saying that the conflict had: 'Accelerated the development of renewable energy and storage is both a strategic necessity and a national imperative and France this week published a national plan to phase out fossil fuels entirely by 2030, oil by 2045 and gas by 2050.
At the world's first-ever conference dedicated to ditching fossil fuels, held in Colombia this week and attended by 56 countries, it was announced that: 'The crisis has accelerated trends that were already underway' and that 'the universal theme is turning away from global energy markets and into regional ones where nations feel they can better guarantee their security' which obviously is a disaster for the Gulf States but then better for the rest of us, so that's fair.

Not An Ai Post

I was shocked to discover recently a blogger i regularly visit has been using AI to generate their posts and even worse, i didn't realise until they told me. I then found out that many more bloggers are using AI and had me wondering how could we tell?  
Long gone are the debates about whether AI can effectively mimic humans, it can and it is getting harder to prove if something was made by a human so how will we ever be sure we are reading something a real person wrote because i really don't want to be going to blogs or reading posts if they are not created by a human, what's the point in that?
Some type of new Turing test would ne nice to prove a machine did all the hard work of writing the post so how can we prove to others in the digital world that you are a human and the content you create is from my own brain and fingertips tapping on a keyboard?
One way is that the machines are almost perfect grammatically and never make mistakes so they won't misspell a word, make a typo or put a punctuation mark in the wrong place so maybe that is where the test is although if you proof-read your own work enough, you will iron out any grammatical errors anyway so it isn't fool-proof.
If a post is too perfect then we could use it as a test of human authenticity so maybe we should throw in a few errors or clunky, awkward sentences or use the wrong homophone but the downside to that is we dumb down to prove we are not a machine which can't be right because nobody should deliberately forget what we spent years in school learning so we must come up with another way, but i'd be buggered if i can think of one.  

Special Guest Blogger: Greek Nymph Callisto

I’m the original, mythological, slightly tragic, and, let’s be honest, profoundly unlucky Callisto. Former nymph, erstwhile companion of Artemis, and eventual celestial real estate (long story).
If Greek mythology were a dinner party I’d be the guest who showed up fashionably late, got accidentally turned into a bear, then flung into the sky by Zeus in a panic move. Literally and metaphorically over my head.
I was a nymph. Not a particularly famous one but a run of the mill woodland nymph just walking through forests looking ethereal, occasionally startling shepherds, and trying not to get turned into a tree.
I joined Artemis’s crew, goddess of the hunt, eternal virgin, and frankly her expectations were high. Total abstinence, zero tolerance for romance, and a strict no-boys-rules which would’ve been fine, if Zeus hadn’t had the self-control of an American at a free gun show.
Zeus  disguised himself as Artemis herself to get close to me. Let that sink in. Not as a handsome mortal, not as a swan, not even as a golden shower, no, he went full undercover goddess.
Long story short: deception occurred, I was blessed (cursed?) with a child, and Artemis found out. You’d think she might’ve had a word with Zeus but no. Off I go, transformed into a bear and sent packing into the woods
The life of a bear is not quite the majestic, spiritual experience people imagine  and as the years passed. I roamed. I hibernated. I developed a taste for berries and then enter my son, Arcas.
Grown up, hunting in the woods, and entirely unaware that the angry bear charging toward him was his dear old mum. I’d like to say we had a tearful reunion. Instead, we had a near-fatal misunderstanding and a very awkward near-mauling.
Enter Zeus (again). In what can only be described as divine panic, he grabs us both and whoosh, hurls us into the night sky. Literally. No warning. Just you’re both constellations now. Deal with it.
And so, I became Ursa Major which looks like a saucepan with legs so never trust a god in a disguise and if you’re going to be immortalised in the stars, at least insist on a flattering angle but at least i’m literally written in the stars i suppose.

Special Guest Blogger: King Christian VII of Denmark

One finds oneself with a surprising amount of time for reflection once one is, well, dead. The celestial paperwork is minimal, the duties are non-existent, and the company, is a bit stuffy.
From my vantage point I’ve had the chance to peruse the history books. And I must say, the press I’ve received is simply dreadful. Mad Christian they called me, and The Insane Monarch. So little imagination! So dreadfully blunt. One prefers to think of myself as… unconventional.
It all began, as these things do, with a childhood. My dear mamma, a British princess through and through (which explains my fondness for a decent cup of tea), did her best.
But there’s only so much one can do with a child whose primary interests include climbing curtains, holding conversations with busts of Roman emperors and developing a sudden, inexplicable passion for cobbling. They tried to teach me statecraft. I found it a bore. They attempted to instill in me a sense of gravitas. I found it chaffed. I was a prince, you see, not an accountant. The whole point of being royalty is to avoid such tedious nonsense.
Then came marriage. A splendid way of securing alliances and my dear Queen Caroline Mathilde, was a lovely girl. Rather serious for my tastes, given to a furrowed brow and an alarming interest in philosophy. I did try to engage with her, I truly did. I’d regale her with my latest theories on why sparrows conspire to steal one’s left shoe, but she always seemed preoccupied. A shame.
The real star of my reign, of course, was a chap by the name of Johann Friedrich Struensee. My physician. A terribly ambitious man who meant to be looking after my humours, which, I grant you, were in a state of perpetual disarray. But he got a taste for power, the old boy. He looked at the machinery of the state, then looked at me who was probably trying to teach the court dog to sing sea shanties at the time, and thought, Right. I can do this.
And do it, he did.
Looking back, one has to admire the sheer audacity. Struensee, with the quiet collusion of my dear wife simply took over. He issued decrees, reformed the government, abolished torture, and gave the press entirely too much freedom. All while signing off with, By order of the King.
I was aware of all this obviously. It’s just… why bother? Struensee was far better at it. He enjoyed it, bless him. Why get my hands dirty with budget cuts and agricultural reforms when you can dedicate your time perfecting the art of entering a state banquet by sliding down the banister?
While other monarchs were poring over maps, I was curating a collection of hats so magnificent it would make a peacock weep. While they were debating trade tariffs, I was perfecting my Royal wave.
My later years were, frankly, a relief. After the dramatic fall of Dr. Struensee (a rather messy business involving a drawing and quartering that quite spoiled my appetite), my stepson and various others decided I’d had quite enough fun. I became a figurehead. A magnificent, be-wigged ornament. And it was glorious. Finally, peace and quiet. All the prestige, none of the paperwork. I could spend my days in Rösseldorf castle, happily engaged in shouting at the statues in the garden and demanding my horses be fed chocolate.
My death, when it came, was terribly anticlimactic. A stroke, they said. One moment, I was correcting a footman on the proper polishing method for my snuffbox, and the next… poof. The great curtain call. Rude of the body to give up so suddenly, I thought, but there you have it.