a-red-flag

Some people give orders and the rest obey – wasn’t it Lenin who made that observation? In England, traditionally, we have a political class which forms our national government, and may consequently be termed a ‘ruling class’. The qualities required to join this ruling elite are as follows:

You’ll need to be able to speak reasonably grammatical English and to read from a tele-prompt screen (this last is essential). You must be happy spending your day lounging about in offices, restaurants, clubs or wine bars. Usually, you will be male ( although to be fair, out of 650 MP’s, we now have 191 female MP’s – which is a substantial increase over the 147 female MP’s in parliament pre the last general election! For many decades, remember boys and girls, female MP’s made up less than 5% of the total members of parliament). It used to be you would also have to be white, Anglo-Saxon, but since the 2001 general election when 12 black or ethnic minority members were elected to the house of Parliament, this has ceased to be the case; following the 2015 election we have a grand total of 41 BEM MPs, almost 6% of the total membership, but only a half-dozen or so of them female!

Anyhow, the above are simple base requirements. Having the ‘right’ parents will of course be a great asset. You don’t have to be a member of the nobility or gentry, but it will certainly help your case. Obviously, the ‘right’ education is essential – Eton remains by far the best bet! Although Harrow gave us, you’ll remember, Winston S Churchill, our most famous prime minister, painter and, slightly more controversially, warmonger and saviour.

Oxford or Cambridge are almost obligatory for a place in the ‘ruling class’. Other universities exist, of course, but their benefits are not so obvious, either to the electorate or, indeed, to other members of the ruling elite.

Of course, we live in a ‘democracy’. However, as others have pointed out before, in a true democracy the rulers would be chosen by lot for short stretches of time. Failing that, rather like current jury duty, ever single citizen would be eligible to serve in government for short periods, and would be selected at random for these duties. In England (or anywhere else come to that) this doesn’t happen. It doesn’t even happen in dear old Switzerland which is the one country in the world that comes closest to a true ‘democracy’!

Consequently, would be rulers everywhere must pass some ‘test’ beyond their personal greed, ambition or ability. Birth, class, wealth, colour, religion may each be one of the deciding factors in this selection depending on the society and those doing the selecting. This emerging minority will form the ‘power elite’ from which rulers will finally be selected. What we haphazardly and inaccurately call ‘democracy’ is simply a system whereby members of this power elite receive occasional popular endorsement from us, the people.

So, accepting the above. How does Jeremy Corbyn measure up to the criteria? Well, academically he’s put to shame by the two previous Labour party leaders and Prime Ministers: Tony Blair boarded at Fettes College, a prestigious independent school in Edinburgh, before studying jurisprudence at Oxford (St John’s college), while Gordon Brown was accepted at age sixteen by the university of Edinburgh, following ‘fast track’ education in Kirkcaldy High School. Mr Corbyn, on the other hand, attended Adam’s Grammar School in Shropshire, and later took a course in Trade Union Studies at North London Polytechnic but dropped out following arguments with his tutors.

His parents weren’t of the nobility or very wealthy, either. His mother was a maths teacher, his father an electrical engineer. However, what’s even worse, Mr Corbyn is teetotal; he will have to lounge about in bars with a glass of water in his hand! Unheard of for a politician in our parliamentary democracy! (In fact in a Daily Mirror interview, Mr Corbyn admitted that he does on occasion imbibe a little alcohol, ‘very, very little’).

The cabinet for 2014 / 15 comprised 60% Oxford graduates. And it’s not just the Conservative party; the Labour party, too, have a number of front rank people who have graduated from either Oxford or Cambridge. In fact Labour’s Yvette Cooper went to Balliol college Oxford, where she received a first class honours degree, went on to Harvard in the States, then finished off with a MSc at the London school of economics. Ed Milliband, of course, attended Corpus Christi College, Oxford. But the sobriquet “Red Ed” destroyed any possibility of him ever becoming prime minister.

Mr Corbyn stands now (or will do eventually) before the power elite demanding entrance and waving his two E-grade A-Levels in the air. Could it be any worse? Well, yes it could. Mr Corbyn might have been born an agricultural worker, in which case he’d have had to pack up any thought of politics as a career at the outset. Just poke that pair of A-Levels where the sun don’t shine, and get on and plough a field or two. As it is our elitist media have turned on him like a pack of ravenous hounds. He is not the ‘right kind’ of person!

Neil Kinnock, too, was a known left-winger within the Labour party. He did attend university, mind – the University College of South Wales and Monmouthshire – unfortunately not Oxford! Undeterred by this obvious handicap, Mr Kinnock went on to replace Mr Foot as leader of the Labour party. He became the longest serving leader of the opposition in Britain’s history, and, of course, the longest never to have been prime minister. Following Labour’s fourth consecutive defeat in the 1992 general election, Mr Kinnock resigned as leader and resigned from the House of Commons three years later to become the European Union’s Transport Commissioner…this a sort of reward from the political elite after Mr Kinnock’s attempts to move the Labour party to the centre ground, moving away from absurd ideas and ideals, which included the nationalisation of failing industries, and his single-handedly defeating the extremists in Militant Tendency after their attempts to hijack the Labour brand!

Mr Kinnock, too, was not the right sort of person. But, for the ruling elite, he had a saving grace: he tried to move his party away from blatant Trotskyism towards the centre, towards policies that became known, ultimately, as Blairite.

Mr Corbyn, performing on that old, old hurdy-gurdy of left-wing theories, of nineteenth century solutions to twenty-first century problems, confidently waits for the swing of the pendulum that will carry him to greatness. He waits, not realising the grandfather clock has stopped ticking at one minute to midnight.

Yes, he will probably win the vote confirming him (again) as leader of the Labour party. But what will it gain him? He’s sixty-seven years of age. At the next general election he’ll have attained the grand age of seventy-one. Will he follow the template of Neil Kinnock, fighting and losing four general elections? In which case his final defeat will occur following his eighty-sixth birthday! By which time he’ll be older than William Ewart Gladstone who took office for the final time aged eighty-two. Why, even Palmerston when he assumed the office of prime minister for the first time was only seventy years of age!

Certainly Mr Corbyn will receive the enhanced salary of leader of the official opposition which will more or less double his MP’s salary of £74,000 pa! An amount not to be sniffed at, for sure. But his aims go beyond personal enrichment, of course they do. He wants his friends and supporters on the extreme left to gain control of the Labour brand. They want the kudos; they want, more importantly, the money that goes with it. To get this they must have the party.

Mr Corbyn, appreciating he will never win a general election, uses his position to carve the heart out of the existing parliamentary Labour party, filling it with the successors of Militant and returning the party to a time pre Neil Kinnock, where he can sing The Red Flag with the lads to his heart’s content. The purge of Militant left Mr Corbyn as one of the most left-wing members of the Parliamentary Labour Party, and he routinely found himself voting in opposition to official party policy during the Blair/Brown government. In fact, he defied the Labour whip a total of 428 times during the thirteen years between 1997 and 2010.

His personal objectives are indistinguishable from those of Militant. Re-nationalization of the railways and energy companies, confiscatory taxation, price and rent controls, maximum wage, unilateral disarmament; his agenda is about a huge shift of power away from individuals and the private sector and back to the state. His choice of Shadow Chancellor, John McDonnell wants to nationalize the banks. Militant’s current-day guise, The Socialist Party, supported his bid for the leadership and raised the prospect of them rejoining Labour to “form a new party”.

“Because you are from the people, because you are of the people, because you live with the same realities as everybody else lives with, implausible promises don’t win victories. I’ll tell you what happens with impossible promises. You start with far-fetched resolutions. They are then pickled into a rigid dogma, a code, and you go through the years sticking to that, out-dated, misplaced, irrelevant to the real needs…”

Words of Mr Kinnock that Mr Corbyn and his party would do well to remember. But no, Mr Corbyn will not win a general election. He is not the right sort of person. Not part of the smart boys club. He is a man of nineteenth century ideas, floundering in a world of technology and globalisation. He’s unacceptable to the political elite, to the media, and to the majority of the British people.

So I sit here staring out the window with my one good eye, like Odin the other’s been sacrificed to wisdom ( well, hardly that I s’pose, to be truthful ). My thoughts, unexpectedly, turn to the Mekon…

I first encountered him in the pages of The Eagle comic as a boy – an encounter that also encompassed a first time acquaintanceship with gas chambers. At the time, I couldn’t get my head around the idea of specifically building a “chamber” in which people were to be killed.

It seemed absurd.

Madness.

Monstrous.

The chamber, I recall, was all gleaming stainless steel – a truly sterile affair, where execution, the murder of one individual by the state (or in this case the Mekon), could be conducted in a clean, methodical manner. The victim’s only input in to this ritual, of course, was to die quietly.

At the time we had a gas fire in the living room and the gas had a musty unpleasant stink to it. I imagined that small stainless steel chamber gradually filling with the stink of gas. Was it the smell that killed you?

Anyway, the Mekon was this small green super-scientist with a huge head (reflecting I guess the size of his brain, hence his mind warping IQ) whose atrophied limbs required him to utilize this little hoverdisc that resembled nothing more than a flying commode. He was Lord of the Treens, a race of green meanies inhabiting the northern hemisphere of Venus. The Mekon, unhappy with half a planet, desired all of Venus , the earth, the solar system, everything. The Mekon was a true, textbook megalomaniac…(only such a condition isn’t recognised medically)

He was the creation of Frank Hampson, the brilliant originator of the Dan Dare comic strip. The Dare strip was ingenious and to the mind of a young boy, it was the future!

In one strip the Mekon declares ‘We shall overcome any misguided resistance and later reduce your population (i.e. the earth’s population) to scientific limits’.

Ummm, with hindsight, perhaps the human race would have been better off if the Mekon had taken over? Perhaps we’d have had less problems today? Instead of breeding like…well, like Rabbits, we would have been forced to conform to “scientific limits” on our numbers?

But the Mekon was thwarted by Dan Dare. The world remained free. The earth’s population continued to multiply – and to pollute the planet that birthed it. Of course, we now see the “misguided resistance”, so shocking to the Mekon’s sensibilities, was nothing more than a display of human greed. The world government on Earth was full of Neo-Colonialists who wished to exploit the mineral wealth of Venus…as always exploitation was the name of the game.

Today, I find it interesting that the Mekon and the Treens were green. Green for healthy. Green as a lettuce leaf. Green as…well, if I were a cynic, green as gangrene, except the puss from that is yellowish. Perhaps Frank Hampson was ahead of his time in suggesting we should look after our environment? Unfortunately, it was a message not heard or understood by many.

Slightly more people heard and listened to Rachel Carson. Her book Silent Spring back in 1962 launched the environmental movement. One could almost say that Carson made ecology “subversive”, science (or a scientist) against industry ( or greedy capitalists), when she went head-to-head with the chemical industry.

Today the earth really has need of the Mekon. We’ve got plenty of Dan Dares – too many, probably. What we need is a big headed, bright-green, super-scientist on a flying shitter, putting everything to rights…instead we get a George Bush or a Tony Blair or a Gordon Brown or a Nicolas Sarkozy or a clone of one or all of them – did you notice Sarkozy recently launched an attack on immigrants in France? He is himself the child of immigrants. What madness the scramble for popularity engenders…

We need a Mekon to ensure we reduce the number of planes in the air – the whole damn world flies off to attended a meeting on Climate Change. Have these people not heard of Video Conferencing?

We need a Mekon to reverse globalisation, create intelligent urban design, oversee decentralisation with all power returning to local communities (very like the Swiss local communes).

We need to make better use of our water supplies– for example in new buildings we ensure the recycling of water from bath or shower to a reserve tank used for flushing the WC etc, simple but efficient and not expensive to do. All over Germany and Austria I recently saw home power solar panels – huge numbers of dwellings have them, and Germany has built more windmills than any other country in Europe. In the UK we’re still arguing about them, and you hardly ever see a solar panel, they’re too expensive for the average family to install…

In Europe huge amounts of goods are moved by barge on a network of canals, many of the barges holding the load of up to seventy commercial vehicles. In the UK, it mostly travels by road. We’ve even managed to price the majority of commercial goods off the railways…

We need a Mekon to introduce an element of common sense. In time (a lot of time granted ) the earth will become like that gleaming steel gas chamber. Human greed will have condemned the race to death. We will go out not with a bang but a whimper…

And now, deep in ennui, it’s started to rain. The sound of the rain is the saddest of sounds. I seem to remember the Mekon once said about human beings:

STOP THEM! You fools STOP THEM!!

That says it all, doesn’t it?

Metamorphosis

January 7, 2010

So you wake up one morning as a Chav – in fact you could be king of the Chavs, for all I know!

No, scrap that, EMPEROR of the flaming Chavs! In fact, you’re behaviour could make Ming the Merciless look like Mother Teresa of Calcutta (Agnesë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu – now, of course, Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, since her beatification by Pope John Paul)!

Anyway, you wake as a Chav (like Gregor Samsa in Kafka’s ‘‘Die Verwandlung’’ – “The Metamorphosis” – who woke terribly transformed), so what are you going to do about it?

Let’s give this a little thought: Samsa in Kafka’s novel found himself transformed into a giant earwig-like or cockroach-like insect; subsequently he became a burden to his family who kept him locked up and isolated in his room. Obviously Kafka used Samsa and his fate as a metaphor for oppression (in this instance the oppression of Capitalism and duty) and alienation (from society).

Now, as a Chav, duty won’t be much of a problem for you – other than excise duty, that is. And likely the only oppression you experience is the cost of Stella, aka “wife beater”, and the whiney neighbours who secretly (illegally?)film you taking a dump on their front lawn after a night down the pub with mates. Naughty, naughty, neighbours.

In fact, chances are after your metamorphosis, you could become an oppressor yourself – to neighbours, local authority officials, police, you name it. So you’ll soon come to realise being a Chav does have advantages. You, most likely, will alienate society! You’ll certainly piss off your neighbours at the very least (but not the really hard cases, eh?).

So, as a brand new Chav, what should you do to begin?

Make a “to do” list, prioritise your objectives: a five point list is good; ten points is better. But remember – it’s best to include a “time scale”, a deadline by which to achieve your chosen objectives! You should also keep in mind, as a Chav, you’ll no longer be numbered among the seven million or so semi-literate individuals living within UK borders; instead you’ll have joined the vast number of happily illiterate folks, the unintelligentsia, who spend their time watching six year old repeats of Big Brother on digital TV while consuming Doner Kebabs and dripping rancid lamb fat on the sofa.

So, the list (an example):

1. Fink upmarkit – go fer Shish Kebab. An not a crappy half a pitta with chips stuffed in, niver. Go the ‘ole hog. Big bits of burnt greasy meat. Yum, yum, yum. From tonite.
2. Get an ASBO. ASP. Aim to win three of these special Nu Labor awards by end of Feb. Show yer a man (sorry) MAN and not a big woman’s pee thing.
3. Don’t take ketamine wen you’ve bin sniffing Bostick or nail varnish remover or doin a lot ov weed – unless yer Income Support or other benefit payments are late. From next week.
4. Each time a cop car passes, shout in yer loudest voice: “Can I smell bacon?” From Today.
5. If it move, shag it (not yer stupid sisters/bruvers, unless nofink better about/available).

Over Arching Goal:

Wot would everyone say if we Chavs behaved like the countries of the world? I’ll tell yer. They would say wer stupid, crass, ignorant, hopeless. That’s right, init? Yet they’re worse, in they? So it’s about time we took over.

So, to recap: you’ve woken one morning, climbed from bed, glanced in the mirror and quietly said: “My God, I’m a Chav.” Despair not. While the word Chav supposedly stands for “Council House and Violent” later usage has diminished the need of a “Council House” though a particular attitude of mind, supported by irrational tantrums, violent outbursts and total selfishness, is essential. Make your “to do” list now.

Remember: fail to plan and you plan to fail!

Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Your behavior from this point on must (MUST) have far reaching social ramifications. When approached or arrested by police officers, you say: “No comment” to each question asked. Confronted by Social Workers explain you are suffering from ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disorder) which will be sufficient mitigation for even the most extremely aberrant behavior imaginable (especially with your now much lower IQ).

Remember: The World Is Your Oyster.

In particular you should express (with me) a particular debt of gratitude to Tony Blair, Gordon Brown, and Nu Labour whose policies (pursued with such single-minded vigor) constitute one of the biggest experiments in social engineering ever witnessed in this nation; and without which the concept of a “Chav” could never have existed! The bright fabric of our day-to-day lives would accordingly have been seriously diminished. Socialism for the oughties has ensured a growing gap between rich and poor. It played the part of Robin Hood in reverse. It ensured we have a Police Force more concerned with “quotas” and “equality” than actual “policing”. The rise of the Chav coincided with an upsurge in the problem of binge drinking and anti-social behavior.

So, a final word or two from our new born Chav?

“Big shout out to all da boys, its fer life an yous knows it! Nu labor is fookin’ beeest! Them Conservative r all twats! I’ll fookin’ kill ‘em! The BNP is like Nu Labor, init? So okay. Izzit right, this election stuff? Fookit, I sez. Lets get twatted , go fookin’ mental, like. Lets just hav a government for life.”

Mum at war with Brown

November 10, 2009

In sadness I place this link HERE. It’s a transcript of the 13-minute telephone conversation between PM Gordon Brown and Jacqui Janes, mum of tragic Guardsman Jamie, 20.

At one point Mrs. Janes is reduced to saying: “I cannot believe I have been brought down to the level of having an argument with the Prime Minister of my own country.”

At another the grieving woman states: “No, Mr Brown, Mr Brown, listen to me… I know every injury that my child sustained that day. I know that my son could have survived but my son bled to death. How would you like it if one of your children, God forbid, went to a war doing something that he thought, where he was helping protect his Queen and country and because of lack, LACK of helicopters, lack of equipment your child bled to death and then you had the coroner have to tell you his every injury?

Do you understand Mr Brown? Lack of equipment.”

Read it and weep.

I should add, rather belatedly, that you shouldn’t weep because of our Gordon. No. He has tried to do the right thing. He wrote in all honesty, I feel sure, a letter of commiseration. Unfortunately he’s partially sighted, and has atrocious handwriting (or so we’re informed). His gesture failed, unfortunately , and I can’t help but feel some sympathy for him because of that.

However, be that as it may, our tears should be shed for the circumstances of the young man’s death. And for all the young men still to die on our behalf, in a war that should never have been fought. Yes. Now is the time for your tears.

parlfire
 

Goodness, Parliament burns…but is Gordon safe?

gord 001

Ah! The Battle of Falkirk (1298)…of course!

July 22 was the date of The Battle of Falkirk, where Scottish pikemen were cut to pieces by English longbowmen. 2009 is the year a Scotish Prime Minister obtained revenge!! He cut the English nation down to size singlehandedly!!

Gordon will be at the celebrations tomorrow, for sure!

GB readyforanything

There’s a story going the rounds that our Gordon has had his Parliamentary office refurbished? Apparently it’s designed for any eventuality?

“Viglen, the UK PC maker, has won a Office of Government Commerce contract worth up to £30m to supply public sector organisations with 70,000 PCs. Its chairman, Sir Alan Sugar, is very pleased indeed.

“We are delighted to have been awarded this contract on an equitable basis”, he says. Does this suggest to you that he thinks some contracts are awarded on less equitable terms?”

Just a little light relief…the local polling stations are very quiet, which is sad. Ultimately we get the administrations we vote for…or, if you prefer, we get the administrations we deserve, by not voting!

If the Lisbon treaty goes ahead the pound sterling will be gone within two years. Briton will be IN the Euro up to its sad, scrawny neck.

Just think on that and all it will mean!

“We should be eternally grateful to have a leader with such mesmorising foresight, in the coming age of glorious New Labour Socialism.”

Someone’s havin’ a laugh! See it HERE. “No Leader But Gordon”.

You’ve probably seen Mr. Brown’s erudite and lucid explanation for what’s been happening on the political front in the Sun newspaper. But in case you haven’t, I present this:

“I CAME into politics because I wanted to change the world.”

Oh, just like in the pop song… Well, Gordon, didn’t you once say you’d “saved the world”?

Wouldn’t that do?

No?

Ummm, you haven’t really changed the world, but you’ve well and truly shafted Briton…that’s got to account for something, hasn’t it?

“I love this country and, like most British people, I’m proud of the way that we decide things democratically.”

Which country do you mean then, Gordon? Scotland? Wales? Northern Ireland? England? ‘cause the UK isn’t a country, you know, old bean? Nor is Britain! You seem a tad geographically confused? Perhaps you’re referring to Spain? Off to Torremolinos for your summer hols, eh? Already slipped into holiday mode….

“We’ve got no big history of extremism in this country because our Parliament – the oldest in the world – has always been a symbol of how we decide things fairly together.”

So why the hell are we spending soooo much money on “anti-terror measures”?

Your mob spend much more now than when we were getting regularly bombed by the IRA!

And in fact we wouldn’t have any problems at all, if your mate Tony hadn’t gone off on one and invaded Iraq and Afganistan…after misleading Parliament and the electorate.

“But our democracy has been discredited by the scandals of recent weeks — revelations that have made me furious because it seems some people have been serving themselves and not the public.”

You’re furious?

You didn’t know what was going on, then? No news on the planet Zarg, eh Gord?

You didn’t claim for two different second homes, while living in the same “grace and favour” flat for twelve years? And what about that flat you purchased and placed in your wife’s name while switching your second home designation to Scotland? Would that have been done to avoid Capital Gains Tax?

“So I’m determined to do whatever it takes to clean up politics.”

Yeah, right, so what have you done? Sacked half your cabinet? Rid yourself of all those Nu-Labour MPs who’ve been shown as “troughing”?

Nooo, none of that!

Instead you’ve set up a committee!

Gordon, I’m sorry, but you are a first class joke! If you had the least thread of moral turpitude or human decency you’d call an election NOW!

It’s what the people WANT and they want it NOW!

Not simple minded platitudes, but an ELECTION…NOW!