The_Eye_Of_Sauron

I think that the original poster who has set out some novel ways to deal with these people in the post says more about himself than a sensible way to deal with offenders.

Any chance of dragging yourself into a century nearer this one?

I agree with Maerim, such mediaeval sentiments are very unsophisticated and perhaps mask something quite sinister.

(But then poster is neither located in Thailand nor has any Visa issues so his presence here - (eg nitpicking Gentleman Scamp's Thai blogs), has always been a mystery)

On one of the 'sex tourist' boards there's a guy - who is one of the biggest pervs in town, trying to get farangs together for a united action front in Thailand - feeling that his tax baht doesn't get him any say in how Thailand treats him..

His remit is broader than just land ownership. Yet he expects his cabal to be taken seriously and get funding (he's also going for $50 per member).

Comments anyone !

The price of joining the family

After 18 years here, American Vanessa Whitting decided to become British. Here, she describes the tricky process

When I first arrived in Britain in 1987 at the age of 24, I expected I'd last maybe a couple of years, then return to the US and get on with the business of becoming a grown-up. I'm still here at 42 because I love it, in the way that only foreigners can love their adopted country.

But I have become increasingly fed up with the hassles and restrictions of being a "resident alien" — that old chestnut, "taxation without representation", always bothers us Yanks. And waiting for hours in airport immigration queues when I come "home" is not fun either.

So, I decided late last year that it was time to make it official. I printed off the 13-page citizenship application form on the Home Office website and took the first step into the surreal, looking-glass world of government bureaucracy.

The process seemed straightforward at first: send in the completed form with a cheque for £218 and wait eight months for a decision. If it was approved, I would have to attend a Citizenship Ceremony, after which I could apply for a British passport. If I was lucky, I might get in before the introduction of the citizenship test in the summer of 2005.

The first problem was the requirement that I send in my passport with the form. As I travel frequently for work, it is not possible for me to surrender my passport for up to eight months. Besides, my passport is the only place where my ILR (Indefinite Leave to Remain) is recorded. I would sooner eat my own knees than trust it to the post.

The only alternative was to engage a solicitor, who would certify a copy of the passport, leaving me free to carry on with my work, knees intact. That was the first major bill: an estimated £450 plus VAT.

Then a second problem emerged. My application was rejected because I had not demonstrated proof of my proficiency in English. I write freelance articles for national newspapers in Britain, and have spent 18 years in academic publishing. But apparently this is not sufficient proof of my ability in English.

According to my solicitor, I needed a Notary to attest to my language skills. She glossed over the fact that this requirement had somehow been missed in our discussions. And,of course, it was going to cost money; by now my solic­ itor's bill had risen to £680.

Amazingly, I was able to get an appointment with the local Notary for the same day. His services would cost £70. I decided to check the Home Office's website. The proof of proficiency requirement did indeed appear, but it said they would accept a copyof a higher degree certificate from an English-speaking country.

I just happened to have my Bachelor of Science certificate among the possessions which have followed me through three changes of country. I cancelled the Notary appointment, copied the certificate, and resubmitted the application.

Eight weeks later, an email arrived from my solicitor to say that my application had been approved. I was very pleased to get approval in far less than eight months, but mystified why it had taken 11 days for the letter to travel from Liverpool to Oxford!

The delay meant that, according to the letter, I had only one day left in which to organise the Citizenship Ceremony. So, I phoned the county registrar, who said that they had a ceremony going on in my area in two weeks' time, but that I would need to answer questions from the information pack included with the letter.

The solicitor had received no such information pack, but did ask for another £100 plus VAT, I assumed to cover the cost of opening the letter. Eventually, when I did obtain the pack, I noticed something rather odd. To quote directly from the letter:

" During the ceremony you will hove to soy the Ooth or Affirmotion of ollegionce to Her Mojesty the Queen … If you sweor the ooth this meons this is before Olmighty God, if you offirm the ooth it is not."

Ooth of ollegionce? Her Mojesty the Queen?

At first, I took this to be some archaic, ceremonial version of English, maybe dating back to the Middle Ages. But, in fact, the explanation is far less colourful. Every a had been changed to an o by mistake. If I were an immigrant with a shakier grasp of English, I would turn up at the ceremony and read the words exactly as they appeared in the letter.

I felt as if I had wandered into Monty Python's Hungarian Phrasebook sketch, where John Cleese maliciously supplies the hapless foreigner with mistranslations guaranteed to get him slapped or arrested.

At the ceremony in a council meeting chamber, there were six hopeful proto-citizens: three from the US, one from Turkey, Fiji and Spain. The mayor's speech, welcoming us to the locality, was a masterpiece of understated comedy.

Haltingly he extolled the attractions of Wiltshire, including a valiant but doomed attempt to make Swindon sound glamorous. "And not forgetting the Oasis Leisure Centre," he said, eying us meaningfully, "from which the band gets its name."

He informed us that Marlborough has the widest High Street in England. '"The reason is that, in the 1600s, all the houses in the middle burned down." He paused. "So now you can park there."

That well-known tourist attraction, Honda's car plant, also came in for a mention, made poignant by the fact that Rover used to make cars here. "Alas, but times move on," he said sadly. In that one phrase was the loss of a whole empire.

The registrar, a quiet, moustached person, led us in his Wiltshire accent through the Oath of Allegiance (or Ooth of Ollegionce). It was one of those strange moments when, just by saying a few words, one is profoundly altered, in the eyes of the law and society.

We each received a handshake and a Certificate of Naturalisation. We stood in silence, heads bowed, while the national anthem played on a scratchy CD.

The officials welcomed us into the British family. They seemed genuinely pleased that we wanted to be one of them.

The new citizens beamed at each other. We waited our turn for a photo with the mayor, who smiled gamely for each camera.Then we went out into the cold and wet.

But it was, in every other respect, a very fine day.

Citizenship expenses

Application fee £218

Solicitor £797

Notary £70

Total £1,085

Note: Notary fee not paid because university degree certificate could be produced

Application fees

Five- year residence £268

Married couple joint application £336

Married to British citizen £268

Don't assign seats eh.... not sure I can be bothered with the free for all that will cause, my wife hasn't flown before and I don't really want to add to her anxiety

She'll probably adapt easier than you !

She doesn't get anxious when she gets on Skytrain, ferry or a Bus without a seat assignment now does she !!!

Hey Scampy -

Don't forget to take some Yaba back to the UK with you......on saturday we can do the rectal insertion.....

someone bring condoms....

Lots of people going.. This drink-up'll cost you a fortune !

Jocky

Note - the culprit Steven P. is in mid 50s not mid 30s - that rules out your theory.

As projected by my Exit Poll !

Excellent work.

Tally Ho!

Ghosts???? Where?

WAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

If this is real then its a good old TV scoop!

Dynamite too.

Indonesia introduced a variant on this theme in 2004. Some bigwigs there made a lot of money from it.

Isn't it conceivable that this is a 13 year old Thai child posting on here for help on his science project.

Could Moderators at least try to be nice in response. Instad of saying 'you're not drowning' (which I concede is quite funny).

(After all we allow people to post asking for help on their Phd thesis.)

Lets not hammer the Sales Girl - she could get her ass fired for this. Hardly her fault they have a duff scheme.

Its not her fault they won't hire a slick bilingual sales force. We know why they don't invest in their staff. Its because its all smoke and wires.

Not to mention she's as sexy as h*ll. An older women I'd love to ###### mercilessly,

I've seen her from about 2 feet away and I don't agree at all.

She is incredibly wizzened - with a sort of pre-cancerous look.

Apart from the barnet - she doesn't look good for her age.

I presume all the land is owned by someone in Thailand,

People squat willy-nilly.

The landowners allow it cos they know they can get their land back if they want to use it.

If new Laws gave squatters strong rights over that land - then all Landowners are going to toughen up about allowing people in, and then the homeless'll have nowhere.

I don't think you'll get the multi-entry part in Hong Kong. They would only give me a single entry from their Consulate there.

region’s leading airline

In what category....? Profit? Load Factor? Most expensive?

Or just ...general....'leading', touchy-feely, waffle-talk happy feeling

Anyone else noticed that Thai Airways is PRETTY EXPENSIVE nowadays !

Hope Thai Airways is lobbing you a few free First Class seats for this free advertising, George.

Thaksin has since won a landslide election victory with an electorate who approved of his handling of the tsunami.

His Goverment has to handle the problems of poverty, drought, health, education and ethnic reconciliation around the rest of the country.

The problems of those affected by the tsunami are regrettable nonethless, and we thank you for your concern, which has been duly noted.

alot depends on how other members perceive your topic. if you post negative, hateful experiences...your topic may not last long if a moderator feels it violates the thaivisa guidelines.

Informative posts are nice to read and many will want to add replies. so subject matter should be interesting enough to keep the thread alive for awhile.

Well, its going to be negative if its a....

'I bought my car from Somchai Garage, and the wheels fell off after 24 hrs."

Such threads aren't for chatter, they are cautioning other members.

Or 'Don't work for Sauron, he doesn't pay your wages"

I don't think this sort of thing is your cup of tea is it? But it would be handy in a jungle like this city !!

Bumrungrad is the best known international hospital. We just spent 4 days at Vejthani Hospital in Ladprao Road - that was for new baby

Literally, at this very minute - am reading about Geoff Boycott's successful battle with throat cancer in the London Times ...here is the article !!! Good luck !

Long ......but its a medical chronicle of throat cancer.

Boycott's dark nights of the soul in his agonising battle against cancer

By Leo McKinstry

Nothing in his past life had prepared the former England batsman for the ravages inflicted by his illness. In an exclusive extract from his updated biography, we reveal the harrowing story

Throughout the summer of 2002 Boycott had suffered from a mysterious sore throat. When he discovered, while shaving one morning, that he had a lump on his neck he arranged to have a medical examination.

ON SEPTEMBER 3, 2002, Boycott was with Richard Knaggs, his lawyer, coming back from a football match in Manchester, when his mobile rang. It was the surgeon who had taken the biopsy. “I think you’d better come in and see me,” he said. Boycott immediately knew it was not good. The car journey home was the longest of his life. His worst fears were confirmed when Boycott went with Rachael (his wife) to see the surgeon. Boycott had three secondary cancerous tumours in his neck and a primary tumour at the base of his tongue. The outlook for him was bleak. “What happens if I go home and do nothing?” he asked the doctor. “If you go home and do nothing, I’ll give you till just after Christmas,” was the reply.

It seemed to be the cruellest of fates for Boycott. Cancer of the throat usually afflicts heavy drinkers and smokers, yet Boycott was renowned for his fastidious abstinence. Few men have ever looked after their health with more rigorous attention than Boycott, who never carried a spare pound of fat or touched a cigarette. Throat cancer is regarded as one of the hardest forms of the disease to treat. Despite recent advances, less than 40 per cent of sufferers live beyond five years. Yet Boycott, rather than wailing with bitterness, was remarkably philosophical, as well as heroically honest. “Cancer is a frightener. It frightens the shit out of anybody. The diagnosis was the body blow of all body blows. It makes you realise that you only have so long on this earth and so you’d better make it count.”

Initially, his doctors decided that surgery was the best option, so in late September Boycott was told to prepare for an eight-hour operation that would involve breaking his jaw. But just two days before this exhausting procedure and after yet more tests, surgeons decided that the tumour was too large and too near his voice box for it to be removed safely. Had the operation damaged his voice box, Boycott’s livelihood as a commentator would be destroyed even if he survived. He agreed that it was not a risk worth taking.

The alternative treatment was an intensive course of three sessions of chemotherapy, followed by seven weeks of radiation. So in late September, at the Cookridge Hospital in Leeds, Boycott embarked on chemotherapy as an inpatient, a process he described as “similar to mustard gas being continually pumped into your veins”. Then, from October 22, he went into the same hospital five days a week as an outpatient for no fewer than 35 radiotherapy sessions.

The results of these combined aggressive treatments wreaked havoc with his body. He was left with terrible burns on his neck, cheek and collarbones, with his skin so raw that Rachael had to cover it with dressings. Utterly debilitated by his daily trips to the hospital, he could hardly move when he came home. His tastebuds were wiped out and he began to have difficulty eating. Soon he could only manage liquid foods: soups or mashed-up potatoes and gravy consumed through a straw. But, after further sessions, even these became impossible to swallow, because his mouth and throat were in such pain. A feeding tube, operated by an electric pump, was therefore inserted through his nose and down into his stomach; even medicines and water had to be injected in this way.

These months were agonising for Boycott. His weight fell by 35lb, the skin on his neck peeled away, his mouth was covered in ulcers. The full extent of his harrowing ordeal was brought home to Rachael one morning when she walked into the study of their Woolley home. “He was sitting there with a handkerchief coming out of his mouth. I said, ‘You don’t have to talk to me, but is that to stop your tongue touching your teeth?’ and he nodded.” But, in Rachael ’s account, he was as resilient as ever. “He’s hardly ever complained. I’m not a soppy person, but he’s been brilliant.”

In early 2003, another test indicated that the primary cancer had cleared. Further regular check-ups conducted every six weeks confirmed that the cancer remained in remission. Boycott knew, however, that he was still locked in a daily struggle to keep the disease at bay. Drained and frail, he could feel no sense of relief or triumph at what might only be a brief respite. But at least there was now some real hope that survival could be a possibility. “I was skin and bones when the treatment was over,” he said at the time. “You don’t get cured easily and it takes about five years before you can tell. But you keep looking ahead and I’ll keep fighting. The worst thing now is the tiredness — I’m always yawning.”

Messages of goodwill poured into his home. “I don’t know about being a national treasure — that’s for others to say, I certainly can’t say it — but when I was sick, the numbers of cards, letters, phone calls and faxes was unbelievable. It was really, really nice. It was a truly wonderful feeling and deeply flattering to know so many people from all walks of life seemed to care. I never knew people liked me,” he explained in March 2004.

Even old foes like Fred Trueman, one of his most aggrieved opponents during Yorkshire’s long civil war, abandoned their differences. “Life is too short to bear grudges. The infighting that took place at Yorkshire is water under the bridge. Geoff is a welcome visitor in my home and when the news broke of his illness, I was one of the first people to ring him up and convey my sincere wishes for his healthy recovery and to let him know if there was anything I could do, he only had to pick up the phone and ring,” Trueman said.

Another consequence of Boycott’s torment was the deepening of his relationship with Rachael. The timing of their engagement, three months before Boycott even had the first inkling of cancer, contradicts the belief that it was the illness that initially drove him into marriage. Yet there is no doubt that, during the dark nights of the soul, Boycott’s protective shell was cracked by the tenderness of Rachael. For the first time in his life this proud, self-contained man was utterly dependent on someone else. He could no longer be master of his own destiny, but in the process he learnt the meaning of devotion, of mutual exchange beyond mere words. In his vulnerable state, being cared for by Rachael, he discovered a new sense of human empathy. His struggle no longer had to be a lonely one. “I don’t know what I would have done without her. She has been a tower of strength,” he said in December 2002.

As Boycott emerged from his treatment — or “torture” as he called it — he grew strong enough to go through with the wedding. He and Rachael were married on February 26, 2003, in a private ceremony at the Wakefield Register Office.

Extracted from Geoff Boycott: A Cricketing Hero, by Leo McKinstry, to be published by HarperCollins on May 3. © Leo McKinstry

Land rights in Thailand - now that is a "load of cod". Who are your sources?

If you have a legitimate Channot or NS 3 that is a robust legitimate title.

If your land 'title' is merely by virtue of the fact that you've squatted on someone else's land - then can't complain when you get chucked off for them to build a hotel

Are we allowed to post these on the Forum? If so where?

I've had bad experiences with deceitful people and I don't see ...

1) Why they should profit by continuing their deceits

2) Why they should get away with it.

3) Why other people should suffer.

I'm aware that this verges on slander, and one could so easily set up a TV account just for the malicious purpose of slagging off your business rivals.

So there alone is cause enough not to allow it.

But if the incident is genuine, the poster is well known to TV, then it may have value.

..if only like a...

'Sauron does not recommend Harry Bloggs for repairing your car'.

...and leave it at that. That is not slander.

Was this the one who painted his victims with gold paint? ...and like, their skin suffocated .....or something

No, hang on that was Gert Frobe - "Auric Goldfinger".....(he was also in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang).

This was the one with the metal teeth, 'Jaws'.

A screen villain in James Bond films is being questioned by detectives after his wife's body was found in a lock-up garage in Notting Hill.

Irvin Allen, who played opposite Roger Moore and George Lazenby, was arrested shortly after the discovery.

Was this the one who painted his victims with gold paint? ...and like, their skin suffocated .....or something.

...and you're doing jolly well on the Poll.

You could try showing the results to the Embassy !

Apparently Thaksin doesn't like Soi Cowboy so it will be demolished next year to make condominiums.

Unless Thaksin told you himself this story is a load of cods.

Anyway there is such a thing as land ownership laws here, regardless of your heart-to-heart chats with the PM !

Merton

Can we have that wife's poem in Thai please. I have to show it to someone.