Tuesday, 17 October 2017
The bonkers game that sees the Conservative Party try to match Labour’s fantasy football league of politics is breaking sinister new ground with Philip Hammond’s mooting of a generational tax divide; tax the old to bribe the young. While Labour can shift its stance daily – Brexit sunny-side-up, Brexit over-easy, hard-boiled Brexit – and hardly anybody cares, the government is like a flailing toddler trying to land a punch on a six-foot adversary whose hand is on its forehead. It looks foolish and useless.
I honestly believe that not even Labour voters now actually believe in Labour’s policies, for two main reasons. One, they have no firm, plausible, agreed and deliverable policies whatsoever. And two, they have no need to worry about anything so boring as how the debts get paid as long as the man in the top job keeps handing out the Werther’s Originals. Oh, Jeremy Corbyn, they sing, united in their mass delusion that Old Man Marxism is the answer.
But here’s the odd thing. Across Europe it is the right-wing, populist, nationalist movements which are making progress, shaking things up and giving the big-state, socialist rulers bloody noses. Whereas here in the country whose traditional national character is the very embodiment of Conservatism it is to the left that chunks of the electorate are turning. Because, to those who haven’t seen it in action, socialism sounds so... nice.
History will remember Tony Blair for one thing and it won’t be the war that all the left-wingers keep berating him for; it will be the bringing about of the very character change that is fuelling their rise. The left should be worshipping him. When he said he wanted to rub the right’s nose in diversity he wasn’t kidding. He took that puppy by the scruff of the neck and shoved its snout right into the great big pile of stinking multiculturalism he had deposited on the hearth rug.
So, at a time when Mrs May and her entourage should be circling the wagons and digging in for battle, they are distracted by leaks and leadership challenges and self-destruct suggestions like ‘let’s hike up the taxes on our most loyal supporters’. The EU team are laughing down their sleeves at us and frankly taking ‘le piss’, shrugging their shoulders and saying ‘non’ at every turn. And in this they are aided and abetted by a Labour Party willing to simply acquiesce and submit entirely to the EU’s demands.
Submission is quite a handy stance, too, when it comes to Labour’s love affair with islam. Under a Labour administration many more muslims will hold positions of power, the borders will be as porous as surgical gauze and the economy will be entirely controlled by Brussels. Corbyn won’t need any policies of his own as he will willingly accept whatever the EU caliphate dictates.
Stop asking the electorate and start leading them!
So what’s to be done? Aping Labour policies has never served the Tories well; they should immediately refrain from going down that track. Trying to buy off the student vote is pointless anyway because young people will always hate to hear the truth especially from the Tories. Instead Mrs May should take a leaf out of Europe’s book. Not the EU, but the people of Europe. Take a right turn, resurrect your Conservatism and give us a ballsy, what-the-people-voted-for, outright rejection of everything the EU stands for.
Monday, 16 October 2017
I’ve been taking a break from daily blogging; it can be such a chore. But sometimes you come across useful idiocy of such quality you just can’t ignore it. Twitter is a target-rich environment in that regard in any case, but Carlos was a particular treasure. Repeatedly citing a letter in an obscure journal as objective proof of his thesis he took on all-comers like a short, ginger-bearded Scotsman on speed.
His thesis, you ask? That capitalism is a voracious killing machine. Putting aside the fact that businesses would fail quickly indeed if they set about executing their work forces, the man’s entire argument revolved around his cast-iron faith in, I guess, the kinder, gentler politics espoused by Jeremy Corbyn and John McDonnell. So, to sum up: capitalists are murderers, because I say so. And then, to add some texture to this bland offering; therefore they must also be sociopaths and cowards, to boot.
A syllogism is a perfectly valid form of reasoning in which a conclusion is drawn from two given or assumed premises. For example, Aristotle’s "Barbara" syllogism has the major premise that ‘All men are mortal.’ The minor premise is ‘Socrates is a man.’ The conclusion being, ‘Socrates is mortal’. But not all syllogisms are equal and the form is often used to draw a pre-determined and often derogatory conclusion, to wit: Racists are stupid, stupid people voted for Brexit, therefore Brexit is racist.
Carlos’s reasoning was both simple and wrong, but he wouldn’t be shifted from his indefensible position and he kept coming back, all whirling claymore and thrashing sporran, again and again. We all feared for his sanity. You can read the thread here if you have the stomach for it. Feel free to join in:[Link]
Tyrants do not provide welfare for the masses. Tories wish to keep the UK welfare state affordable. Therefore Tories are tyrants... and by extension, so is anybody who expresses agreement with a single Tory policy. This is the key to leftists thinking – begin with the conclusion that Tories are evil, then work backwards by any means necessary to assemble your proof. On no account should you challenge your beliefs and in particular you must never critically examine what alternatives Saint Jeremy offers the faithful
Labour repeats, over and over, that they will fix our economy, our society, for the many, not the few. They run this mantra past the flock on a daily basis. They say they will somehow fund hundreds of billions of pounds of public spending from tackling tax evasion, entirely missing the point that tax evaders do so because they can. They tell the wicked witch story of a rich class of cruel fat cats exploiting the workers without ever wondering where the workers will find employment without the employers. They talk of public ownership of infrastructure and utilities with no mention of how they will buy back these assets. In short, they lie.
Now that's what you call logic!
So here we are at our conclusions. People like to hear nice things | The Labour Party says nice things | The Labour Party must be nice. Conversely: The truth is often hard to bear | The Tories are trying to work within economic realities | The Tories must be cruel, heartless sociopathic bastards. Pick your pill – the ultimate irony being that it is the blue one which sends you back to serfdom.
Friday, 6 October 2017
We have a housing crisis, by all accounts. And that’s not meant as a dismissive phrase; there are too many people here and too few dwellings to accommodate them. We will build more houses, cry politicians of all colours; then quietly forget they ever promised any such thing. Pledges to ease the squeeze all end up forgotten when the knee-jerk response later turns into an ‘ambition’, or an ‘aspiration’. Nothing changes, except the scale of the problem. And yet it is all so simple, at heart.
Too much demand, too little supply. If we can’t build more houses where people want to live, that they can afford to live in – and the evidence of decades seems to be that we can’t – then we need to turn this problem on its head. If we had fewer people we would need fewer houses; it really is that simple. The trouble comes in persuading people that our Ponzi economy is all wrong. We don’t need millions of grunts working at sub-minimum wage, propped up by the few truly productive. We need real jobs with real purpose and none of the bollocks. (You know who I’m looking, you there, in the offence-taking industries.)
Brexit may very well be a start. Maybe we do need to become a bit more prickly towards foreigners; dissuade the low-skilled from coming here, insist on payment for services consumed and repatriate immediately on conviction or unemployment. Britons-first really would have an effect and we should apply it to all areas: jobs, access to benefits, positions of authority, education, etc, etc. We should genuinely consider shrinking the population and actually become a littler Britain; our survival may depend on it.
Ponzi, you say? Yes. Ever increasing expansion of GDP comes at a high price – see today’s productivity figures - because you need ever upwards expansion and ever more public spending, so let’s do the reverse. Let’s actually put our own interests as occupants of an island of finite size at the very forefront of politics. Not individual happiness and fulfilment – that’s your problem to solve – but what works. Small state, a highly educated population, quality work, skilled, trained, productive and competitive. And we should aim to live within our means, as self-sufficiently as possible.
And if that means we have a little less variety, that we have to pay what it actually costs to produce food, that we need to take more individual responsibility for our welfare, well, you can take a commitment to diversity and variety and ‘equality’ too far. And I believe we have. If Britain becomes a much harder place to sponge off we will quickly become less attractive to those who would do so. If foreign investment pulls out then, fair enough; how bad would it be if we really did stand on our own two feet?
Too few houses? Or too many people?
If this means a smidgeon of xenophobia and a tendency to dissuade reproduction by the uneducated, so be it. If this means we regain a reputation as an aloof, unemotional, pragmatic nation of tacit, cold-blooded queue formers, fair enough. If we demand a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay, a fair go for the little fella, help only for the genuinely needy and the meagrest of dole for the idle, what is so wrong with that? When you think about it, all we need to do to solve so many of our issues is to become more British about it.
Thursday, 5 October 2017
It’s a mixed-up muddle-up shook-up world. They are talking of cutting defence spending when the security and safety of our realm hasn’t seemed so perilous in a generation. The NHS caters for a wider and wider variety of ever more exotic ailments, administering expensive treatment to all and sundry while pensioners freeze for want of care and attention. Cut-rate migrants work for a pittance, pay no tax and in return are treated with suspicion, while perfectly able Britons languish on welfare which is too generous to turn down.
The government spends fortunes on an army of advisory roles which tell us the many ways in which we can usefully hate ourselves: the diversity, equality and human rights industry doesn’t miss a beat in berating our values. Using the multiple clubs of gender, sexuality, ethnicity, national identity and a myriad other metaphorical pointy sticks they encourage us to beat ourselves up for being undeserving of any of our successes due to our imaginary ‘white privilege’.
Despite the numerous noisy campaigns, various ‘pride’ movements and the many concessions we ‘normals’ have been forced to concede to the – and let’s not be coy - ‘abnormals’. I see little evidence that any of it has made any significant contribution to the sum total of national happiness, productivity, usefulness, etc... It appears to be, much like communism, a zero sum game. Give and take always appears to operate in one direction; any increase in one person’s happiness coming at the cost of a corresponding reduction in another’s.
Take the Tory Party. No babies were barbecued at conference, no elderly care patients were sacrificed and at no point did the faithful don robes and hoods and chant at a black mass. The awful, unacceptable [to some] truth is that Tories are humans too. The difference between them and certain other parties is that they actually want to confront reality and while dreaming of a better future, they understand that we have to consult the nightmares of the present. What a shame then, that the court of public opinion has sentenced them to ape the largesse of the left, but water down the offerings to a few feeble sops which will satisfy nobody.
It’s time for a paradigm shift in society. We have too many people in the country, so the answer is to import more? We have a housing crisis, so we need immigrants to come to pay to build more? The NHS is overburdened? Solution – yep, bring in more people, their families and their dependents, to paper over the cracks. And all the time we are told there is an impending employment crisis... the robots are coming!
No party dare grasp the nettle, but it’s time for some radical change. Get the utterly useless diversity consultants out in the fields. Make the costly management consultants do a decent day’s work in the factories... for once their worth could actually be measured. Force Human Resources to provide an actual resource. Stop student Marxists from becoming educator/indoctrinators and impose some real rigour in schools Slash the numbers of university places in half and then in half again. Children who haven’t achieved some academic success by 15 should be working; everybody tells us how much more mature they are than kids of half a century ago – let them prove it.
And what’s so wrong with people starting at the bottom? - The people in those low-paid jobs don’t all stay there forever and a huge number of the low paid are hard-working youngsters on a conveyor belt of improvement. Today’s potato pickers are tomorrow’s foremen. Today’s burger flippers are tomorrow franchisees and today’s factory production line drones are tomorrow’s captains of industry. And some people are perfectly happy to stay on the bottom rung forever; let them.
If a real leader had the balls to stand up in front of the electorate and declare that the era of freeloading is well and truly over, they would almost certainly be out of office in hours. But somebody has to tell the truth and somebody has to break the spell of socialism. Theresa May had that platform and if she’d gone in hard, she would have been backed. But no, she had to go and promise to give people other people’s money. The shake-up will have to wait.
Monday, 2 October 2017
The party’s over, or should that be The Party is over? The Conservative conference has opened in Manchester and delegates have been welcomed to the city by banners suggesting they be hanged by the neck until dead, with effigies swaying in the breeze to hammer home the point. So much more detail than mere indiscriminate spitting; now we can be in no doubt that the spirit of revolution is in the air. And how.
The problem for No.10 and the Tory Party is that the revolution is not in their ranks. Shuffling, backstabbing, bickering dissent, yes – ‘twas ever thus - but no Conservative reformation, no firebrand, back to basics barnstorming... no vision. And a vision, if not a miracle, is what we need. Where is the confidence? Where is the spring in the step? Mrs May’s hunchback, drop-shouldered, palsied mouthed posture sits in stark contrast with the sharp-elbowed, gleaming-eyed predator we had in the last truly Conservative Prime Minister.
Where is the zeal? Wither the spunk? Who do we have to lead? Jeremy Corbyn is riding high on a delirious tide of juvenile adulation. Labour supporters, especially young Labour supporters, smell victory in the air and the more unsophisticated their political awareness the more fervent their support. Indoctrinated simpletons, yes, but indoctrinated simpletons with fire in their bellies.
In Catalonia the Spanish police have been wading into thousands of people only trying to make their voices heard. Right or wrong, legal or no, the voters were mostly peaceful, but the state responded with a level of force that would have been applauded to the rafters had it been applied to the islamic invasion of Europe. Ironic, isn’t it, that when the people ask to be protected the guardians lay down their arms and when the people demand to be heard they take up cudgels.
What is happening everywhere – France’s Front National, Germany’s Alternative für Deutschland isn’t ‘the rise of the right’. Nationalistic, patriotic, proud citizens craving independence isn’t ‘the return of fascism’. People trying to have their fears recognised isn’t anything sinister, it is the opposite; it is the two-way conversation that modern democracies are supposed to thrive on.
Jeremy Corbyn hasn’t cleverly captured the zeitgeist; he has, by an accident of the incompetence of the Labour Party over the last few years, become the only figurehead who appears to care for the dispossessed. That his policies, his entire politics are an unworkable mish-mash of simplistic populism is irrelevant. In an ocean of cold mediocrity, Corbyn is a transitory upwelling puddle of lukewarm relief and everybody is leaping into his warm, moist embrace for a few minutes of feeling... well, feeling there is something other than the cold.
The Tories are screwed right now. Theresa May is undoubtedly a woman of commitment and has paid her dues, but she can’t connect with the public. Boris Johnson can undoubtedly connect, but not with the grown-ups and he is not to be trusted. Phil Hammond is a snake. And all the rest are tainted by the ridiculous internecine squabbling of the last two years. There is no ‘right wing’ in British politics; all parties have been, wrongly, trying to occupy the centre ground and the Tories are still trying.
It doesn’t work. The wets have the centre, Corbyn has the left, so the Conservatives need to rediscover their roots; if the opposition insist the government is right wing, then to the right it should, unashamedly, go. And when it gets there it needs to fly the flag for honest, unabashed Conservatism. Don’t apologise for capitalism, cheer it. Don’t cringingly pray at the NHS altar, insist it ups its game. Don’t dole out benefits at the drop of a hat, make them the exception, rather than the rule.
Shy Tories? What is there to be open about?
If Mrs May’s motley crew really want to steer the UK through the Brexit negotiations; if they really want to be the party of working people; if they genuinely wish to hold onto power in order to see through their reforms they need to stand up straight, reassert discipline and bloody well say so. Jeremy Corbyn preaches hope for a better future, based on a gloomy fantasy of never-ending government largesse; it’s about time the Tories also brought hope, based on the optimistic and achievable reality of self-reliance.
Thursday, 28 September 2017
Transcript: Victim Interview
Sergeant Copper: For the tape, my name is Sergeant Copper. Also present are Elspeth Socialworker and representing Miss Young-Person is her solicitor Gloria Law. [pause, shuffling of papers, scuffing of chairs]
Now, Miss Young-Person, can you tell us, in your own words, why you are here today?
Young-Person: I want to give a statement. I want to tell my story. [pause] He promised me sweets if I went with him.
Y-P: Yes. I like sweets
SC: Did he say what kind of sweets?
Y-P: No. He just promised me that there would be sweets; whatever I wanted.
SC: Did you take the sweets?
Y-P: No, because [pause, sobbing] well, I never saw the sweets. I mean, he sounded perfectly plausible. You know... whatever type of sweet I said I liked he said I could have. If I wanted mints he said he would get me mints. If I wanted toffees, then toffees I would have, he told me. But I never saw any toffees... or mints.
SC: I see. Did he ask you to do anything in return for these sweets? Anything for him?
Y-P: I don’t know, really. I mean, he didn’t ask us to actually, you know, do anything. Not as such. I think he just wanted us to love him. He smelled funny. Like camphor, or something.
Y-P: Yes. At first I thought it might just be me; maybe I was... chosen. He made me feel special, you know, like a kind old grandad. And although he seemed a little lonely, as if he really needed me, he made me think it was all about me and that the world was there just for my benefit. He told me that no matter what I wanted, he would make it happen.
Gloria Law: It is. It is your human right that whatsoever your heart desires, you shall have it. Because it is your irrevocable human right to be happy and successful.
Y-P: Yes, but I thought he meant only me. He spoke directly to me, from my smart phone... at least, I thought he did. But then, when I went to meet him, I discovered I wasn’t the only one at all. There were thousands just like me.
Sergeant Copper: And what happened, when you met the others?
Y-P: Well, they were all very nice. All like me; just like me, in fact. They all had a sort of ‘glow’ about them, as if they – we – had all been drugged, or enchanted or something. I felt like I had no option but to do what everybody else did. I didn’t feel special so much then, more like we were all the same. I wasn’t sure I liked it, but I felt I had to play along because...
SC: Because, what?
Y-P: He held us in a sort of trance. It felt like we all knew the words to the song and if we tried to sing different words... well, it didn’t feel like an option I dared to try. You know, I sort of felt that even if I didn’t agree with what he was saying, I still had to sing the correct words, or else... I don’t know. We just all sang along, whatever we were feeling inside.
SC: You had to sing?
Y-P: He made us chant his name.
Y-P: [sings] Jeremy Corbyn...
Jeremy... not as other children.
Elspeth Socialworker: Well, you are safe now. Your parents are coming to pick you up after this interview. But we need you to do one last thing, before you go. Sergeant?
[indistinct noises. A box is placed on the table: video evidence accompanies this transcript]
Sergeant Copper: Miss Young-Person, using the doll, would you show us exactly where he touched you?
Monday, 25 September 2017
There isn’t half a lot of hoo-ha (should that be Haw-Haw?) about on the subject of the rise of the right. The steam is spouting from every orifice as the puffing and panting squawk boxes of the activist left gear up to the next level of screechery. They are all getting their knickers in a twist and equating the surge in support for the AfD in Germany and the prospect of Anne Marie Waters leading Ukip with a call for cattle trucks and gas chambers. Behave, the lot of you.
Far right indeed! You may not have noticed, possibly because from inside that shiny bubble all you can see is a soap-sudsy distortion of yourself reflected back at you, but practically the whole of politics in the UK is slap bang in the centre. The voters for both sides all want pretty much the same things – peace, prosperity, freedom from worry and disease – they just differ in how they think it should brought about.
The pragmatists on the right understand that none of this comes for free and busily crack on feathering their own nests as all of nature tends to do. The idealists on the left believe it should be enshrined in human rights and spend endless hours in their dream state imagining a world of infinite diversity whilst maintaining equality for all. The workers on the right know they have to pay for what they get; and the dreamers on the left also know that the workers on the right will have to pay for what they get.
It’s little wonder, then, that the backbone of the country simply cracks on and the mainstream political parties try to appeal to as broad a spectrum as possible; inevitably, this means they rarely stray far from the centre ground. Last night, in response to a comments about Ukip hardly being ‘far right’ a Tweeter posted the following graphic to ‘prove’ they were, literally Hitler. Quite apart from the alarming scale, which purports to show an extreme fascist tendency for the parties they don’t like, this is a simplistic and unrealistic model.
Well, two can play at that game. Given that some of my detractors readily and regularly call me a Nazi I was somewhat surprised when I honestly took the test some months ago and came out smack bang in the centre. (Okay, I was half a small grid square above and to the right of the line, but I was still devastated!) Anyway, as something of an expert now in these matters I took the liberty of creating an updated and far more accurate version of that graphic to suit the current political landscape. Here it is.
So, as you can see, labels aren't always helpful and memes can be used to illustrate, but never to prove, any point you care to make. And as I’m in charge of this here commentary, I observe that the difference between left and right in Britain is fag-paper thin apart from a few oddball extremists. The only fly in that particular analytical ointment is Jeremy Corbyn’s fan club, Momentum. Given half a chance they would be out hanging Tories from lampposts.
Saturday, 23 September 2017
I always had doubts over Brexit. Never a doubt that we should leave; in that I have never wavered since 1975. I also still believe what my teenage self thought - that this was a betrayal of British history and a craven admission of weakness. And right from the start I felt vindicated in my views when, year after year, corruption and incompetence went unaddressed, even rewarded. Wine lakes, butter mountains and perverse funding allocations are, unfortunately, inevitable consequences of complexity.
Running a sole trader business can be tricky enough, especially in a competitive market; being responsible for employing others far more so. As you scale up an enterprise it becomes impossible to keep a realistic overview of the whole organisation and when you get to national level, roles become so speciated that it is impossible for them to interact in a meaningful way. (This is one reason why Communism can never work; you have to let natural economics have its way if you want to avoid both oversupply of un-needed goods and rationing of essentials.)
Thus sensible western governments evolved a useful model of governance without too much overt regulation and a laissez-faire approach to the economy as a whole, intervening only where sensible coordination and national interest were required. If this meant that the French thought differently from the Dutch, so be it; variety being the spice of life and all that.
But with the advent of the EU that all changed. When the common market we were persuaded to join morphed, almost without a murmur, into a supranational behemoth of complex control over every aspect of our lives we began the process which has taken us to where we are now. Anti-Brexiteers demand to know our destination – where will Brexit take us? Well here we are at the destination to which EU membership has brought us all. Like the view?
Across Europe we appear to be powerless to confront a migrant flood which will have a devastating and impoverishing effect on us all, because having submitted to the rule of an unimpeachable junta we seem unwilling or unable to protect ourselves. We are afraid to say anything for fear of causing offence to persons unknown. We accept edict after edict and do as we are told and defer to others when we should be determining for ourselves how we function as a society.
The rise of the EU and its inevitable collapse has us all in its thrall - and collapse it will, as have all other administrations before it. The world is always changing but so many fault lines seem to be converging at the moment as to make this implosion potentially catastrophic. That we were prepared to man the lifeboats before we struck the iceberg should have been a signal to others to look to their own survival.
But no; the Prime Minister who for party purposes granted a referendum he assumed he would win abandoned ship immediately after the result. The shuffling about for a replacement was only the start of delaying the execution of the people’s wish. His replacement was always, at best, a placeholder until a new, decisive leader could be found, but we agreed to give her a chance. I always had doubts over Brexit and yesterday those doubts were realised. Theresa May’s olive branch offering in Florence was a simple betrayal of the hopes of millions. Brexit may not be dead, but the cancer of British party politics will do its damnedest to kill it off.
Sunday, 17 September 2017
Vince Cable has written a thriller, apparently... two can play at that game:
Agent Cable tensed. He was in a dark place and no help was at hand. He considered his options; call for assistance, or keep clenching and trust in his sturdy tena. Being licensed to kill was one thing; focussing on the target was entirely another. He adjusted his varifocals, turned up the volume on his hearing aid and concentrated once again on the mission. Only, he realised, he’d forgotten, again, what his mission was.
What seemed like only moments later, he was gently shaken awake. “Sir, it’s time.” Vince was helped to his feet by the two carers and his blanket was gently folded to await his return. A cup of lukewarm cocoa was thrust into his hand and he took a sip. As the sugar took effect his blood surged; he felt invigorated and set out to meet his fate. The Liberal Democrats needed him; he alone could unit them.
Waiting briefly in the wings, agent Cable contained his nervousness; only the merest twitch and tremble of his hands betrayed any frailty. Here he was, the conference keynote speech and the fate of the whole party lay in his veiny hands. Dismissing his nurses he squared his shoulders, put away his notes and strode out, to tumultuous applause, to take up his position at the lectern.
Lend me your ears... mine are fucked
The spotlights captured him in their harsh glare. He held up his hand and the thunderous hand-clapping died to an expectant silence; only the occasional cough and rustle of papers could be heard. He gazed out at the crowd, shielding his eyes against the light. Then he purposefully cleared his throat and leaned in to the microphone. He paused for one meaningful moment then declared “Have you seen my slippers?”
Monday, 4 September 2017
You have a choice between two systems.
System A allows you to hire whoever you wish without fear of censure; those you believe are best able to work productively and who will, during working hours, devote their energies to the furtherance of the company’s business priorities. You may negotiate directly with them over matters of pay and conditions, disciplinary issues, holiday entitlement and employ them only for so long as you find the arrangement mutually beneficial.
Under System B, which is a kinder, gentler way of doing business, you will still be able to employ the best of the applicants, but those applicants must include mandatory quotas of various diverse groups such as: those who identify as non-binary gender, women of child-bearing age, the differently-abled (both mentally and physically), persons of colour (ideally a good mix of all shades), vibrant religions (Christians need not apply), refugees and any other ‘persecuted minorities’, as decided by outside agencies.
System B companies will employ workers under arrangements largely determined by a wide range of external interested parties who will treat the company entity as a hostile enterprise and make secondary the creation of profit. For kinder, gentler policies to work the rights of the work force must be held supreme at all times and the means of production must, necessarily, function at the convenience of said workers.
Under System A, a company will have to openly compete with other companies; the one which produces the better product at the right price will occupy the market-leading position and force its competitors to match its efficiencies. The demand for product will determine how much is supplied and price will be settled by these natural market forces acting in concert. Companies may also compete for talent and pay whatever is needed to recruit the best managers and directors.
System B entities will produce what central planning determines and sell it at a price set by a workers’ committee. To keep prices affordable for all, wages will also be controlled by the same central planning authorities, which will also monitor work force wellbeing and determine whether and if the company needs to spend more on such welfare. Fairness will be at the very heart of this system and no boss – recruited internally from the general worker population - will earn more than twice the wage of the average employee.
The population under System A will have to budget and make its own decisions about how it spends its income. You will have to cut your cloth to suit and although there will be an abundance of a huge variety of produce of all kinds you won’t be able to afford all you desire. Instead you will be free to set your own spending priorities and be full liable for all costs and debts incurred. This will mean that the profligate may suffer by their own recklessness.
On the other hands, in System B, you will be absolutely free to select from the far more limited variety of products available. The choices will have been decided for you by various experts, who have only your best interests at heart, but be aware that there may be gluts and shortages at times. Rationing may be introduced to ensure that everybody gets their fair share, but the price of such measures will be borne by the companies responsible. Be assured, however, that everybody will get what they deserve in the end.
So, there you are; a simple choice. Do you want the free agency of the open market, with all the risks and rewards it brings? A world in which nothing is certain but where fortunes may be made and lost and an infinite variety of possibilities exists? Or would you prefer the kinder, gentler certainties of a predictable, planned economy; a world in which everybody has a place and knows it. Choose wisely.
Friday, 1 September 2017
Yesterday was the twentieth anniversary of the death of Diana, Princess of Wales; the People’s Patsy. Tony Bair must have thought all his birthdays had come at once; she was the talisman that allowed people to fall under the New Labour spell of introspection, the cult of the individual and the new age of careless platitude replacing wisdom. Okay, so maybe the epoch wasn’t conjured into being at that precise moment but I remember watching with some embarrassment as the British became, well, foreign.
Open grieving in the street, mass hysterical weeping, hugging complete strangers and ululating for the cameras; these were things we had formerly watched more emotional nationals doing. We British just didn’t do open displays of emotion; especially not over people we had never met. No, we were hard-bitten, cynical and renowned for the stiffness of our upper lips. Crying was for women and babies and grief was an intensely private, personal and internalised affair.
Maybe it wasn’t so, but it seems to me that Britain BC (Before Car-crash) was a more civilised, more orderly and generally better mannered nation. People generally got on pretty well and we didn’t have the sort of societal strife we now see after two decades AD (After Diana) and the Blair Witch Project. In these last twenty years we seem to have descended into a hell in which every possible minority form of existence is accorded parity with, if not supremacy over, the far greater and largely innocent majority, under threat of force of law. And while the government is strapped for cash, no expense is spared in policing dissent.
We have become weaker as a people, our identity has been fractured and continues to split along every more finely defined fault lines. Black against white, straight against gay, left against further left and islam against the lot. We have become so infantilised, our offence-seeking so legitimised that even the kind of idiocy flaunted openly by people like Dinah Mulholland is not only not ridiculed, but taken seriously and investigated as a hate crime. Think about that; having fun is now a hate crime. Thanks, Lady Di.
It is little wonder that the Brexit negotiations are at an apparent stalemate when so many have been taken in by the illusion propagated by the EU that every move we make, every thought we think is only permissible by the grace of the rights they have given us. AD Britain can conjure tears and protest at the drop of a hat. AD Britain willingly rejects independence, preferring to be nannied and coerced into submission. Submission, eh? No wonder islam gets such reverent assistance; it is the coming religion of the EU.
They say we won’t mark the 30th or the 40th anniversary of Diana’s death, but I say maybe we should. Future generations need to reminded how easily whole populations can be persuaded to act incoherently over insignificant events. No assault was launched, no Stormtroopers landed, but we were invaded by thoughts of inadequacy and interdependence as surely as if we had been brainwashed at gunpoint. We should always remember what Britain was like BC... and how it was eventually lost forever.
Tuesday, 29 August 2017
Jeremy Corbyn’s new kinder, gentler politics are unravelling. It’ a shame, however, that as most people have the political memory of a goldfish and the concentration span of – ooh, look, squirrel! – he will be forgiven, as befits the son of god on earth. He has been spending his summer holiday doing what he does best: mingling with crowds of the confused, promising them that they will inherit the Earth, just as soon as he can persuade enough of the gullible to put him into office.
A man of principle, is his billing. And indeed he does have, it seems, many principles, all of them apparently worked out on the back of a fag packet and initiated by the merest hint that there may be votes in it. Like every other demagogue in history he seeks but one thing, to have his grubby paws on the levers of power, from which position he will proceed to pull those levers every which way... with the inevitable train crash as a result.
Don’t be fooled, chldren. That Werther’s Original stained beard and that jaunty communist cap; those baggy trainers and the engaging way he tells his little porky pies about how ‘Joan, the care assistant’ or ‘Harry, the police pensioner’ have written to ask him to ask Mrs May an embarrassing question every Wednesday are all smoke and mirrors. Behind the beguiling grandpa figure is a calculating, vote-hungry, still-angry, old-school commie, desperate to prove that real socialism – which, incidentally, has never been tried anywhere, ever, especially after it has failed – will surely work, given a chance.
Don’t give him that chance. Kids, remember the unaffordable tuition fee scrapping promise, which has now vanished into thin air along with its £100billion cost? How about his hard-Brexit, soft-Brexit, ever flexible policy which changes like a straw in the wind with every poll outcome; which one is it, Jeremy? What exactly IS Labour policy on enacting the outcome of the democratic vote of last year? How about the four new Bank Holidays he’s just pledged, at a price to you, the taxpayers of a mere £2billion-plus per day; how will they be paid for?
And just yesterday he appears to have said that we mustn’t blame islamists for supporting ISIS, an islamist organisation, hell bent on imposing sharia by violence. It’s merely a political view, as is his support of Hezbollah. I do hope – but don’t anticipate – he will express the same understanding of those who express views contrary to his left-wing fanaticism; oh, wait, of course, they are all neo-Nazis now, aren’t they? I forgot, mea culpa, my bad.
There isn’t a single tangible, workable thing about any of Labours populist policies that you can point to and say ‘that’ll do it’. I thought populism was a nasty, right-wing thing, you’re thinking, but no; think again. Rent caps, price freezes, hiking minimum wages, ending zero-hour contracts that even Labour and their supporters themselves use. Fixing education, transport, defence and the glorious socialist republican people’s monolith the NHS [peace be upon it] - all will be well if you just vote Steptoe.
If you think we currently have an actual Conservative Party in power, you’re an idiot. If you think that life in the UK is just peachy for everybody, you are an idiot. If you think that you can make people richer by legislating to increase wages you are an idiot. If you think that diversity is more important than competence you are an idiot. If you profit by working in the burgeoning offence-seeking industry without a sense of guilt, you are an idiot. And if you think that Jeremy Corbyn is the answer to your dumb, dumb existence, you are just one more Leninist useful idiot in a country being swamped by them.
Saturday, 26 August 2017
Dig coal out of the ground, likewise iron ore and use the two to make steel with which to build our world. Till the soil, cultivate crops and turn the produce into sustenance for the workers. Design things, erect factories, make those things and distribute them to where they are in demand. Teach young people what they need to know to be able to participate in the myriad activities that generate wealth. Also teach them how society works, and teach them their duties and responsibilities towards others.
Make, build, fix, deliver... and repeat. Busy hands, encouraged by the prospect of better lives, create riches, tangible riches that can be used to provide the less easily auditable services that are often a loss on the balance sheet. Hospitals to treat those who need it. A justice system that can be used to protect us all from the minority who can’t be persuaded to eschew their destructive urges. And a safety net of welfare and social care to look after those who simply cannot look after themselves.
Isn’t this the basis for a civilised society? Every piece of the jigsaw should contribute to the finished picture; you can’t just tip in the contents of half-finished jigsaws of a completely different image. The only way you can fit the alien pieces into the national canvas is by removing or deforming what was there before. Or by insisting that the corrupted and unpleasant mish-mash that results was what the box lid promised all along.
The picture may be continually evolving, but if it doesn’t improve it, it shouldn’t be in the box. The meddlesome imposition of ever more perverse ways of disposing of the wealth we create and of distorting the society we want to live in is destructive. The separation of rights from responsibilities by the ever more bizarre outcomes of the human rights industry is simply irresponsible. The insistence on enforcing some nebulous notion of ‘equality and diversity and inclusion’ is costly and destructive.
A society is not the same as a company and maybe profit and wealth aren’t the only metrics, but surely, like any successful enterprise, a nation should keep on asking, ‘how does this help’? How does it help that one ‘community’ is protected from criticism? How does it help that police forces seem determined to create and prosecute imaginary crimes under the label of hate? How does it help to insist that perceptions of gender identity that border on mental illness are not only normal, but should be promoted relentlessly among impressionable children?
We can't just keep on doing this.
If we are navigating choppy waters surely steadying the ship is what is required; not loading it up with ever more unstable elements. There is a highly visible and apparently growing segment of our society whose aims are unclear, but who relentlessly demonstrate, sometimes with menaces, for conflicting changes they can neither define nor safely bring about. Instead of indulging them we should be clinically examining their negative contributions to our national efforts and asking, quite firmly, how does this help? Because, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t belong.
Wednesday, 23 August 2017
Today was a landmark day. The struggle is over and ahead we can clearly see the glorious future we have fought for; all equal under law, all equally cherished in humanity. Our horizons are limitless and as we join hands in a giant circle embracing the world you can feel the love, now that the Nazis have finally, finally, been defeated. This day will go down in history; this is the start of a new epoch. And yet it all started out so... ordinary.
In truth, life has been getting more and more difficult lately. The trains just don’t run any more and buses are hard to come by, although we managed to locally ‘nationalise’ a fleet as they were abandoned. The drivers, cowards to a man, just parked and fled when they encountered our daily protests, but that’s the extreme, far, ultra-right for you; no guts, no fight left in them. But still evil enough to salt the earth as they went, leaving factories unmanned and fields unharvested; only they knew how to work those things.
We helped ourselves of course, as is our creed; all for one and grab what you can. We knew that the evil fascists would bring the country to its knees and so it proved. Before the rise of the right we were one of the richest countries in the world, but it was all built on the back of slavery and colonialism; a price we knew we would have to repay one day. The capitalists just didn’t understand, but we began to put in place the mechanism to defeat them; to tear down their gilded walls and bring them to their knees.
What did they do? They took their gold and their white supremacist sentiments and set out to bankrupt the country. Bankers, scientists, engineers, builders... all the running dogs of the so called free market, who could not stomach our beautiful egalitarianism, left these islands of ours forever. But thankfully the teachers, the human resources and diversity experts, our trades union brothers and sisters and all the greens and vegans in the land stayed behind. And the precious jewel in our crown? The wonder that is the perilously underfunded NHS.
But still, even from beyond our shores, the evil Tories continued to wreck our cherished society, by forcing us to borrow ever more to keep us enslaved and further depress our standards of living. As the squeeze began to take effect we knew we had to keep on fighting for our freedoms. Together we, the Antifa and all our allies in the war against hate, pressurised what was left of government to enshrine in sacred law a definition of hate that could be weaponised on a whim.
All those years of getting our people into place; Common Purpose, the muslim brotherhood, committed Marxists and feminists, the rainbow people of the LGBT coalition... and Liberal Democrats. Finally, it paid off. There was no way back for the fascists. Not that there was anything much for them to come back to; they took it all.
But what of today, you ask? Today was wonderful beyond all expectation. It began as usual with the daily assembly in Trafalgar Square, where the toppled wreckage of Nelson’s column sat in silent testimony to the power we now hold. From there the march along the usual route to Westminster, via The Mall, the burned-down barracks of Horse Guards Parade, the rubble of Downing Street and the ransacked wasteland of the Imperial War Museum. And then we saw him...
No more fighting...
At first it was with disbelief but then, as one, the crowd recognised the man we had all been looking for. Rumours had spread that he was in hiding, wearing a mask, trying to find a way out of the country. But with all ports shut down and airports at a standstill, it was only a matter of time. And now we had him. Against our numbers and our righteous belief he had no defence and we hunted him down, like the animal he was. And now, as our brave band of brothers and sisters disperse to begin our foraging, our victory is complete. From the scaffold on the last plinth in Parliament Square, where the fat man used to stand, swings the wretched body of the last white man on Earth.
Friday, 18 August 2017
Trump is what you get when you offer people no alternative. Things may not have been perfect back in the good old days when we grew up (this is a moveable phenomenon; one’s childhood was invariably a happier time, when we were blissfully ignorant of reality) but at least we perceived a sort of balance. Most people had jobs, raised their families, had ambitions and pursued them, and the left and right were a relative minority of crackpots who believed the world was out to get them unless they struck first
But, conspiracy or not, planned or otherwise, deliberate or by sheer happenstance, the centre ground drifted inexorably to the left. Disguised as peace, equality, diversity, inclusion, multiculturalism, vibrancy or one of the hundreds of epithets used to entice new followers to the socialist big-state dream, the left-bound limp continued. Oh, the left? They’re harmless enough; just a bunch of old hippies and young student revolutionaries. They’ll grow out of it... or die off.
But they didn’t, did they? Emboldened by their acceptance in the upper circles of governments worldwide, as society became softer and weaker, they took advantage and began to shape the developed world in their own image. Live-and-let-live gave way to live as we tell you to live and without the necessity to strive for survival, our relative prosperity enabled alternative lifestyles, suckling from the teat of state, yet without gratitude; in fact with an attitude of entitlement. Then they began to bite the hand that fed.
White supremacy? That’s the latest attack line is it? How desperate is that? Look, we already accepted that in your eyes we are, all of us who pay the actual taxes, ‘literally’ Hitler. We have taken on the chin your repeated accusations of racism, sexism, homophobia and gender bigotry. But the fact remains that via groups like Antifa, Hope-not-Hate, Unite Against Fascism, BLM, et al, it is whites who have borne the brunt of a sustained ideological attack in all western societies, simply for being white.
And now they are tearing down the statues, erasing history, fomenting yet more antipathy. The fear of being on the wrong side of the argument even cowed Theresa May into saying she saw ‘no equivalence between those who propound fascist views and those who oppose them’. Really? How about an equivalence between, say, muslim murderers mowing down people in Barcelona and fascism? No? Of course not, because the left will never condemn a cause they have espoused as their own. White supremacy? How about brown supremacy?
"Britain has a problem with British Pakistani men raping and exploiting white girls" said Sarah Champion, for which she was forced to ‘resign’. David Lammy and his morose band of useful idiots sign a letter condemning an article addressing the muslim problem. And then, Barcelona. The now regular diet of islamic violence has been horrific, unrelenting and has brought with it an endless stream of condemnation... not of islam, the faith that all of the terrorists hold, but of islamophobia.
Statues did this?
Daily, the left and all its factions rally round their unpatriotic flags and tell each other that they aren’t worthy and all whites should be shot. They form mobs whenever a noticeably different opinion rears its fragile head and use violence to suppress dissent. Is it just possible that sympathy for a right-of-centre viewpoint is far bigger than they had anticipated and bubbles just below the surface? The backlash is coming - people voted for Trump because they didn't want to vote for the alternative. Because, against the real enemies of justice and peace, there IS no alternative.
Thursday, 10 August 2017
If we evolved from monkeys, how come there are still monkeys? If the Conservatives are so economically competent, how come they’ve had to borrow so much money? Yeah, well if monopolies are so bad, how come there is only one Monopolies Commission? Answer me that! These and many more are the afterthought clinchers, the killer responses that you thought of just after the debate ended. They are also – like so many of these killer retorts – mostly as insubstantial as the rest of the preceding argument. Oft as not you later realise they were as fallacious as all that went before.
Thus has the Brexit war proceeded; from who is going to staff our NHS and who is going to pick our fruit, as one trite objection has surfaced and become mundane by repetition, another has sprung up to nudge it off the headlines. Damn you, employment figures, damn you, financial Armageddon and your insistence on not showing up to the party we held in your honour. Why can’t we get Brexiteers to admit that they were wrong? So very, very wrong; can’t they see how insignificant, ignorant, xenophobic, small-minded and... and... just wrong, they are?
In the face of all this we have offered up a wry smile, pointed to the Brexit scoreboard (52:48, by the way, in case you’d forgotten) and got on with our lives. Because, while the overall demeanour of the average ardent EU-phile has been one of gloom, despondency and downright, fist-balled, pessimistic fury, the average Outer has largely carried on regardless with a spring in his step and jaunty little whistle. Like watching a tantrum-fuelled toddler thrashing about, we find the whole situation hilarious. While we might express some concern for those who are merely confused, when it comes to seeing those who had assumed ultimate authority over all our lives suddenly losing their grip, what’s not to like?
They’ve put their oh-so-clever heads together, they who have long peddled Project Fear and launched their latest afterthought clincher, to wit: “If Brexit is such a good idea, give me one tangible, practical example of the benefits.” It’s everywhere right now, that challenge. But Just as they misread the mood of the people on whom were imposed illiberal thought policing, multicultural mayhem and the idiocy of diversity above all, they have misread the battlefield they are playing on. They are going to be so cross when they find out.
‘Studies’ show how low-information voters defy the carefully constructed machinations of those who know so much better... But (and this especially includes all who make a living from trying to understand how people work ) those same studies often backfire and demonstrate nothing so much as how a closed mind – the very thing they accuse us of – is incapable of understanding how people work. Philosophers, ‘humanists’, economists, politicians, psychologists, ‘thought leaders’... the list goes on; the experts are revealed to be charlatans and self-interested frauds.
Brexit isn’t a tangible, practical thing; it doesn’t come with a list of ‘benefits’. Brexit has revealed itself to be more of an emotional tool and it has shone a light on much that we long suspected. On completion of the ‘divorce’ process there will be no miracle new way; nobody expects that. But there won’t be a cliff-edge disaster either because life will go on and opportunistic humans will make the most of it and yes, that includes even the remainers who seem so desperate right now for it to fail.
We are sanguine in the face of your ceaseless insults because what Brexit has shown is that the power can be prised from the grasp of the elites and that while democracy may be far from perfect it still gives us the freedom to exercise our will. And more, the reaction against Brexit has revealed just how much contempt those elites – academic, political, sociological, etc – hold for we ‘little people’. We now know, if we hadn’t known before, that you can’t trust a disinterested third party with the personal freedoms you hold so precious. You wanted a tangible benefit of voting for Brexit? That alone is priceless.
Friday, 4 August 2017
We’ve been together a long time, you and I and I still love you, I really do, only... Only, it’s different now. When I look at my life now I see I have lost myself; I no longer know where I fit in and I seem to exist only to keep you in the manner to which you have – all too doggedly – become accustomed. No matter what the issue, it’s always about what you want and frankly it’s just been easier to give in and let you have your way.
But it’s more than that. When we first married our fortunes together, when we first tied that knot, I was the dashing young beau, headstrong and fearless and you let me lead the way. But over the years our union has soured and more often than not I feel like the hired help, the junior partner, a mere possession. Or maybe even your slave? You spend my money without ever consulting me. You decide the when, what, where and how of our relationship while I, like a faithful but very tired old gun dog, creakily pull myself together and go out to work.
Once, we laughed and cried together, we stood together, we were as one, but I was unhappy inside almost all of the time. I had my reservations from the start, but I threw in my hand because you made promises. You kept all your other friends while I abandoned mine to stay close to you. And anyway, you never liked my crowd, did you? After a while it was just easier for me to let my old life go and become the butt of your jokes. Oh yes, don’t think I was never hurt when you made me dance to your tune and then mocked me to entertain your cabal of intimates.
And there’s that as well, intimacy. The last time we moved together was so long ago, but still I endured your increasingly open contempt; I became the whipping boy for all of your own inadequacies. I became a hollow shell in comparison to what I once was. So it is time to go our own ways; it is time to part. I wanted a simple, straight down the middle, no blame divorce, but even that isn’t good enough, is it? You want to take everything, including what I brought to the relationship.
You say you want the house, the business... the lot. You say I’m nothing without you. And you know what? I don’t care any more. All I need is the clothes I stand up in and to have a clean break. You can’t take what I know, you can’t take my abilities. I can stand on my own two feet; after all, I did it for years before you tried to break me. And that’s another thing - you can’t take my spirit; whatever you believe, we are better off apart.
I know your new best friend, Mark Carney, is still trying to blame me, but it’s not my fault and the sooner you let me go, the happier we all will be. So in words you will understand I bid you adieu, addio, despedida, farväl, afscheid, αποχαιρετισμός, сбогом, búcsú, pożegnanie and auf wiedersehen, pet. So long and farewell, EU; don’t stay in touch.
Friday, 28 July 2017
Identity politics; it’s barmy, isn’t it? I mean, it’s hard enough some days to get through the day without having to worry about whether you’re using the correct pronouns when addressing others. And will you unintentionally offend strangers by appropriating their culture, whatever form that takes? Do Americans get miffed when they see people of other nations wearing tee-shirts and baseball caps?
And what about what’s written on that tee-shirt? Dressing your five-year old in a pink tee with ‘Princess’ in sparkly sequins might upset a minor royal; you never know. It will certainly enrage a feminazi, but then pretty much anything does. Mind you, this is fine because it is always hilarious to see a grown woman having a rant about somebody else’s innocent child and being utterly serious about it.
Talking of funny, one of the ironically wry things about identity issues is how ridiculous you look and sound sometimes when you both assume your identity and defend it. Whatever happened to ‘anything goes’? I mean, nowadays, in some societies a glimpse of stocking is looked on as something shocking; heaven knows! But some identities are more equal than others and one of those seems to be to have no recognisable individual identity at all.
There is a big debate in the west about the wearing of the burka; something that seems to be far less popular in many all-out muslim countries. Quite apart from the alien nature of this practice, which is seen as a deliberate provocation to many, hiding your face is not something we are comfortable with, here in the civilised world; although there are a fair few prominent feminists who we could bear to see a lot less of.
When you hide your identity, especially as a means of asserting it, it can arouse passionate opposition. What are you hiding? Why? And who are you, behind the veil, anyway? On one occasion recently, matters got a little out of hand. A man walked out of a city centre pub after a long, liquid lunch and on hitting the fresh air became a little dazed and confused. When he noticed a burka-clad figure walking ahead of him he rushed up and grabbed the figure in a bear hug.
As the burkee struggled the drunk clung on all the harder and started to laugh. Underneath the burka, legs were kicking and the head was jerking from side to side as the captive struggled, ineffectually, to break free. Eventually the man let go, still laughing and the burka-clad figure stumbled to the ground, gasping for breath. The man looked down and said “Not so tough now, are we, Batman?”
Thursday, 27 July 2017
So, the future is bright; the future is electric? The government announcement that by 2040 the petrolhead will be dead has garnered much comment over the last 24 hours, much of it based, quite rightly, on who is going to pay for it all. Well, who do you think? The government has no money of its own so this is yet another pesky green scheme whose targets will quietly be pushed further into the future and whose benefits may turn out to be minimal.
Nebulously linking that long-ago discredited 40,000 premature deaths to the use of fossil fuels for transport is just another project fear tactic. If you really want people to switch you need to pay them, not punish them. Introducing punitive taxation to now reverse previous government policy is showing too much of the stick and far too little carrot. With oil and gas more plentiful and thus cheaper than it has been for a long time, surely the shorter term answer is to continue to develop emission control.
But research into making safer oil-fuelled engines will stall if there is no future in it; the new gold rush will be battery technology and all the eggs will go into the single precarious basket of an all-electric world. I have no objection to electricity; indeed, I make my living from it. What bothers me is how ready those who lead us are to purchase new clothes for the emperor, without regard for the crowds who have to watch him parade in them.
Where, for a start, is all the ‘leccy’ going to come from? What if I don’t have a driveway and have to park my car on the roadside a hundred metres from where I live; how do I charge up? I can fill my tank in five minutes; what will the queues be like at the charging stations of the future? And will fast-charging affect battery life? Talking of battery life, there are studies that suggest the lifetime environmental cost of battery power may actually be more harmful than doing what we currently do. Has this been properly investigated before policies have been formulated? I very much doubt it.
Nobody knows the future, but we have survived the past; the devil we know. The taxes raised by selling petrol and diesel and by levying a road fund licence will vanish, so how will the government recoup lost revenues? Charging for road use, via traffic-strangling toll collection? Or by mileage, in which case how will this be monitored; trackers in every vehicle? Will our cars become part of the Internet of Things and if so with what consequences for individual liberty?
And sooner or later, you can guarantee it, somebody is going to claim that electric cars give you cancer. With more electricity around there will be more electromagnetic radiation. With more use of rare elements in batteries, more people will come into contact with materials never normally encountered before. What of those who make the batteries; what of those who dispose of them? Has anybody even thought of this?
No doubt all these obstacles and more will arise and be surmounted, but in just 23 years? That seems like a lifetime – in fact it is - if you are in the 18-24 group who will uncritically applaud this apparently planet-saving move. But in infrastructure spending terms this could put HS2 in the shade and that’s been hovering about for decades already and still nobody knows what, if any, real economic benefits it may bring. Are you sure you are ready to pay for all this, kids? Until I can see a saving, I’m sticking to diesel.
Wednesday, 26 July 2017
You would like to think that the police, with their much-vaunted initiatives to keep a finger on the pulse would know better. You would think that the police, who are supposed to both represent us and understand us, would think twice before they publicised the extent to which they have become tools; tools not for law and order, but for the furtherance of political agenda, criminalising all dissenters from the new orthodoxy.
No doubt Wiltshire Plod thought that getting their twitter intern to post, un-proof-read, an antagonistic tweet was a good idea. And that the use of a couple of iPhone emojis would impart an air of being down with the zeitgeist. But ‘your’ for ‘you are’ and ‘boys & gals’? Who else wonders whether they were paying attention during their gender sensitivity re-programming session? Here’s the ‘offending’ tweet, suggesting a reach way beyond even their Thought Police competence and budget.
Naturally, Twitter went to town; if there is one tradition that runs strong in this country it is pricking the pomposity of those who seek to bully and clumsily impose authority from afar. The police have long been accused of detachment from the front line and disengagement from the policed; this could have been an opportunity for them to admit their mistakes and play along.
But no, lessons have not been learned. After a day of light-hearted mild abuse and the odd more strongly worded criticism they got what they thought was a grown-up to write a response. Talk about putting out the fire with petrol. This sinister warning shows a grave misreading of the public mood and an utter lack of understanding about who or what controls and operates social media.
If the threatening language was intended to make us feel like criminals it worked. I now understand that anybody who dares to criticise the official line is as bad as a murderer or a rapist; not a muslim rape-gang rapist, of course, they are off limits to the long arm of the stupid. Quite apart from the sheer idiocy of pushing back against an online presence many times their size and geographically spread worldwide, the police seem to have forgotten that they police by our consent.
When they left the beat they began to lose our trust and respect. When they began to strut about like paramilitaries they put themselves apart from the public they used to be a part of. When they start to openly threaten potentially large numbers of ordinary people just having a laugh, they have exceeded their remit. The crowd turns on the slightest of whims; those size ten boots could so easily be on other feet.
Tuesday, 25 July 2017
There is a healthy living to be made by selling out the human race for a bag of magic beans labelled 'Social Justice'. The latest burgeoning sector of the industry, drumming up trade for human rights activists and their camp followers is the gender-bending world of the non-binary brigade. Justine Greening has aided their crusade for the massive majority of the population to pay compensatory homage to their demands to be accepted as an utterly normal manifestation of human variety.
But, you see, ‘normal’ implies conformation to some model which occurs more frequently than others. Synonyms for normal are: usual, standard, typical, common and so on, but as gender dysphoria genuinely affects a minuscule proportion, then by a simple mathematical reality it is far from normal. This doesn’t mean that those with genuine issues shouldn’t be treated fairly and equitably by society, but giving people licence to declare a change of gender at whim is going to open the floodgates, just as defining hurt feelings as hateful has fuelled an imagined surge in hate crimes.
Nobody knows how many people are affected; some medical estimates put it as 0.01% but as transactivism has risen and the young are being persuaded, as with sexual preference, to give-it-a-go, try-before-you-buy, there are claims of it reaching 1%, a hundred times higher. Given that for flu an occurrence of 400 cases in a population of 100,000 (that’s 0.4 %) would be labelled an epidemic what are we standard models to make of a sudden massive increase in instances of trans-gender claimants? One thing is for sure; public money is bound to be involved somewhere.
I’m sure all of this is occurring organically, at least I’d like to be sure. I’d like to think this is simple a more open society allowing people to express themselves, explore their identity and find their place in the world, but is it? Some may use the phrase ‘cultural Marxism’ but that’s way too conspiracy-theory for me; I don’t credit human beings with the ability to maintain conspiracies beyond a tiny number of people. But it’s definitely a strain of leftism and fuelled by the notion that everybody should be allowed to be who or whatever they wish to be and if there is no profit in it, the rest of us should pay.
One thing is for sure and that is political interference is unlikely to improve things for anybody, gender-fluid or otherwise. A modernising Tory party loses its core support over this sort of thing and anyway, Labour does this stuff so much better, appealing as it does to a constituency all too ready to throw away what has worked for the many in favour of what might gain the votes of the few. But were does it all end?
When we made it easier for people to go soft-bankrupt more defaulted on their credit card bills. When uncontested divorce was made easier the divorce rate increased. When we made it acceptable to live on welfare forever we created an underclass of state dependents. Let people buy their own homes and we end up with a housing shortage. There is a clear direction of travel here; increase apparent freedoms and we shackle ourselves to runaway trains leading to unknown destinations. Will gender-flipping one day become compulsory? It's not going to end well.
Monday, 24 July 2017
There is something sinister going on with islam and the authorities’ refusal to tak hat is perceived as a threat to our way of life seriously. Say that there are non-muslim no-go areas and you are shouted down with screeches of ‘racist!’ Point to the evidence and if they can’t ignore you, you hear guff about payback for colonialism, the fatuous mantra that ‘immigration is a net benefit’ and of course, diversity. How about this 2016 piece about the new diversity of SavileTown in West Yorkshire?
Yes, I know the Daily Mail is regarded as a banned publication by the bastions of free speech at the Ministry of Truth – the Guardian/BBC Axis – but this isn’t a hate piece. This is what millions of ordinary people see while they are hearing about our wonderful inclusive multiculturality. It’s the sort of cognitive onslaught that might be endured while undergoing brainwashing in a 1960s-style psychological thriller. No wonder people are afraid.
Yes afraid; not because of any imagined, hyped-up, far-right propaganda but through direct experience. We see barbaric acts of terror our screens daily. We have been subjected to relentless images of slaughter of the most brutal kind. And we hear daily how an enormous proportion of the ‘muslim community’ simply refuses to condemn any of it. For every reformist muslim paraded on television in refutation of our suspicions, there are thousands who nod in silent approval and thousands more who are happy to take to street praying in an insensitive and open act of defiance.
But we are the bad guys. The Metropolitan police published a report on hate crime against London’s muslim communities (I don’t recall seeing anything similar on hate crime against all of civilisation) in which they spell out what they regard as islamophobia (page 6).According to the definition they use, there are 8 components of islamophobia to wit:
- Islam is seen as a monolithic bloc, static and unresponsive to change.
- Islam is seen as separate and 'other'. It does not have values in common with other cultures, is not affected by them and does not influence them.
- Islam is seen as inferior to the West. It is seen as barbaric, irrational, primitive and sexist.
- Islam is seen as violent, aggressive, threatening, supportive of terrorism and engaged in a 'clash of civilisations'.
- Islam is seen as a political ideology and is used for political or military advantage.
- Criticisms made of the West by Islam are rejected out of hand.
- Hostility towards Islam is used to justify discriminatory practices towards Muslims and exclusion of Muslims from mainstream society.
- Anti-Muslim hostility is seen as natural or normal.
Well, the first six seem to be the entirely normal observations of what islam actually is in the west and the last two appear to be the almost justifiable reactions of some in seeking to protect themselves from further assaults on our own culture. As a small, but typical, example, take the case of the woman suing a school for banning full face coverings. This is nothing to do with religion and everything to do with an invading ideology imposing its will on the kuffar. If they can ban the burka in Morocco why should such consideration be deemed oppressive in Britain? But what do we do? We attempt to place more and more muslims in positions of power over us; the police are also guilty of this.
It is as if the police force, who once it was once assumed used to defend without prejudice the law of the land now seems determined to thwart those aims. Bandits wear face masks; bank robbers, rapists; villains of all persuasions. In our culture (and how come there are no white British ‘community leaders’?) hiding the face is a mark of shame. Maybe the police should wear masks now? Fight back? We aren’t done fighting among ourselves.