Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Be Advised:Too much democracy is an offence

hero of the day: David Bowie

I went to check out the Climate Camp at Heathrow yesterday.

I came home depressed.

I can sympathise with many of the tea-drinking Middle Englanders when it comes to the panpipes-playing, flip-flops-and-dreadlocks brigade. But only to an extent. I am a big supporter of people wearing what the fuck they want (and indeed, within reasonable limits, doing what the fuck they want too) but feel that, at times, those who would have us believe that they have rebelled against all forms of society dress sense by wearing organic jumpers and rainbow shirts have in fact invented a uniform all of their own... but that's another rant for another time.

No, what depressed me was the tension. Everyone was tense. The whole protest hadn't even got underway officially and already the police were out with their telefocus lenses and their bus loads of chunky skinheads. The locals were leering and glaring at anyone with long hair because their fucking driveway had been closed off and the more militant swampy type was glaring back at anyone with a nine to five haircut. Already forgotten by everyone except the middle grounders (who are hemorrhaging numbers to the lunatic fringes by the day) was that what was going on here was completely legal. We all had a right to be there.

My beef comes in several parts this time.

1. It astounds me that this protest is being treated by the press as if it were a bunch of lunatic hippies ruining the fun for a few good honest folk who just want a fortnight in Antipaxos ('coz the little people do deserve a little time off from their jobs in factories don't they?). Could the pampered little Tarquins who run the Daily Mail please have a think about what exactly it is that is being fought over here please? It's the planet. The thing we live on. If these greedy fat bastards get their third runway, so many people will be moved from their homes, the last time anything similar happened was during the Highland Clearances. And Britain will become, by far, the worst polluter in Europe. That means floods and hurricanes and lots and lots of dead people. All so little Johnny in Surbiton can go paddling in Malaga. And yes, even Kensington will be affected. Because your tofu and lettuce sandwich will double in price. And your readership will have halved because Basildon will be underwater. You all spat the dummy when Ken introduced the C Charge in your town. Don't you think that this issue is EVEN BIGGER than that one? Maybe not...

2. Can the police not see that what they're doing is bullying and not policing at all? Why do these people join up? To protect the innocent law abider or to harrass the few people who are excercising their right to protest in the name of saving millions (and I don't exaggerate) of lives? It would appear to be the latter. Whilst loads of plod got shipped into Harlington to push a few crusties around, some poor fellow who had stood up to some vicious yobbo vandal coward died of the injuries he suffered as a result. Where were the fucking law then? Whining on about how we don't know what it's like to do "the job" these days. No, we don't, because we hardly ever see any bastard actually doing it. Listen, copper, fuck off and go after the real criminals. The fat bastards in suits who are fucking the planet up. Go and threaten them for a change. (NB. Decent coppers who do their best to be fair and just are exempt from the above rant... there are a fair few, it must be said)

3. Do BAA really think we're stupid? Hang on... they're still making loads of money and choking us all to death... and the law says they can. So, yes, we must be.

4. Why do the knuckle-dragging yokels (one of whom told me to fuck off yesterday, by the way) care so much about a few road closures when their entire planet will be closed unless we start to do something seriously drastic? People like that are the epitome of ignorant tabloid reading tossers who are simply incapable of seeing past the tiny, pathetic little ingredients of their own lives. These bloody vandals are going to flatten your whole poxy village, garden gnomes included, and laugh in your faces. Why the hell are you complaining about the protesters? They're the ones standing up for you. Hang on, I know the answer to this one. It's because your bog fucking stupid, that's why.

Get down to Sipson Lane this week, if only for a few hours. If you see a copper pushing someone around, report the bastard. If a yokel swears at you, swear back (but be sure to use words of no more than one syllable). If the newspapers lie about you, sue the wankers!

Protest. It's your right!

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Roasted Murdering Bastard Anyone?

hero of the day: Giorgi Chukov (and his Stalingrad streetfighters)
The above tosser tried to blow up Glasgow Airport a few weeks ago. Instead, he blew himself up and suffered 90% burns.
In Iraq, affiliated Al-Qaeda kill groups said that "those who cure you will kill you". Sorry boys, didn't happen. Your mongness nipple-features wasn't up to it so it turned out that "those who you tried to kill, tried to cure you". The taxpayer spent an estimated £100,000 trying to keep this rodent alive. But to no avail. He died yesterday. Damn shame.
Some people said we shouldn't have spent the money on treating him. Of course we should. Providing life-saving treatment to those who have want nothing more than to see us all die horrible deaths may look like the behaviour of a bunch of right-on pussies but it isn't. It's exactly that sort of mercy that makes us better than the yee-hah lunatics who are trying to hurt us.
So bye bye, mate. All the best. But look on the bright side. You've got 72 virgins to look forward to. Or maybe not. Maybe the virgins won't be up for it seeing as you failed to kill anyone innocent. Maybe the truth is that you died trying to kill a lot of people who didn't deserve it when the real war was thousands of miles away. You could, of course, had done the same thing in Iraq because there are lots of people there just like you killing lots and LOTS of people who don't deserve it either. Maybe you just got sick of waiting in line to hurt random bystanders so you tripped off over to the UK to do it there.
I guess we'll never know. What we do know is that the last thing he was ever aware of was the distant voice of the infidel pig who had done everything in his power to save his life.
And that, to me, says it all.

Friday, July 27, 2007

Rats and the Sinking Ship

hero of the day: General Fairfax

Get a load of this...

Last week, God finally came good on his promise to fuck us all up and sent biblical floods to the UK. Strangely, they destroyed exactly the sort of Middle England shit hole that tends to like God but that's beside the point. The floods cut the water off. Emergency water tanks were dispatched. Yobs pissed in them and filled them with bleach.

Yesterday, Europe's most expensive railways were set to get even more expensive as the motley band of incompetents and arsewits who make money out of them announced they needed even more money from us in order to make the UK's railway network look less like a cluster of Bangladeshi tramlines.

Last night, some poor fucker was chased through the streets by some bunch of bastards and shot in the face. He was sixteen.

Our children are the most miserable. Our roads are the most clogged. Our food is the most shit. Our borders are the most porous. Our weather is the most grey.

The UK is going down the shitter.

So what do we do? What is the response to this national crisis? With Britain in need of inspiration and rebuilding, those of us who can just pack up and fuck off.

And that sucks.

I know it sucks. Because I'm doing it myself. My missus is from Madrid and after several years of not entirely untarnished bliss here in Britain, we are relocating to her hometown. But I like to think there's a difference between me and the thousands of other British whiners who sod off to Spain or Portugal or fucking poxy Australia whinging on about how Britain's gone to the dogs and smugly waxing on about how they've "always adored" Spain or Portugal or fucking poxy Australia. Number one, I can actually speak Spanish. Number two I am not sniffing around the Costas for some wedding cake, disneyland, vomit choke, pink and purple Villa with a swimming pool and a view of some guitar playing peasant. I am simply looking for a flat in the big city with enough space for me, my Espanola and my dog, Marlowe (which I think we've found). Number Three, I've got a job and intend to do something other than sitting on my fat arse drinking dodgey, just-for-the-foreigners Sangria. And number four... and this is the big one... I'm not especially happy about leaving Britain.

Because Britain has a lot of problems. But every one of those problems is caused by people. And only people can do anything about them. Nasty New Labour have infringed our civil liberties with their CCTV and their obsession with ID cards. Nasty Nutty Islam is on the rise and threatening everyone and making stupid demands. Our schools are more like US jails than schools. And no-one can afford a house.

So let's do something about it! I had a friend who married a fucking poxy Australian and pissed off to fucking poxy Australia and never spoke to any of us in England ever again. Well, fuck him. I intend to come back regularly and do everything within my extremely limited power to make Britain a better place. Because it's my home and will remain my responsibility. And when my children ask me about where I'm from I will tell them that Britain is a mighty country that is fighting to remain free and fair amidst a lot of lies, a lot of greed and a lot of insanity.

It'll get better but not unless we do something about it. Fuck the wankers with their villas and their Australian wives. We should all take responsibilty for the state of our nation. Stand up to yobs, give to charity, protect free speech and be proud to be British.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Shoot the fat bloke

hero of the day: Joseph Bazalgette

Listen up...

As anyone who has been party to my judgements before will know, I am not a fan of J K Rowling and the Harry Potter bollocks that she spawned. One of the many reasons for this is the grotesque greed that has taken control of all who are associated with it. Emma Watson (smug Hermione bitch!) delayed signing for the latest drivel and stuck her nose in the air until the producers doubled her fee. Doubled it. For fuck's sake the girl was already on a million... and she's seventeen for Christ's sake! What makes me pull my hair out all the more is that there's seems to be not a shred of embarrassment about the girl. She seems to have absolutely no qualms at all about demanding such money. It wouldn't be quite so bad if she could at least act! Myself, I would be ashamed to ask for such ridiculous amounts of cash.

But I'd be in the minority.

Little Harry wanker himself is on 8 million. I mean fuck my eldest camel with a traffic cone, what the hell is wrong with us?! This fucker's balls haven't dropped and he's already worth more than Uzbekistan. Nobody questions this or worries about it. Greed is good. All of us want to be rich. The richer the better. The less we have the smaller our penis. The more we have the bigger our libido. A big wallet and a stupid car will make me a man these days and nothing else. Hooray for consumption.

But where's it going to end? The more rich people that exist, the harder it is for the rest of us to lead anything resembling a normal life. Most of my generation can't afford a house to live in because all the rich people have bought five. The planet is melting and the ice caps are disappearing and the poor are getting poorer and we're still buying the Harry Potter books. It's got to stop. This is where the wealthy people accuse me of being a communist. I'm no communist but look around you and tell me honestly that capitalism is working. Under what other regime would we consider the survival of the planet to be of secondary importance to economic growth? It's insanity.

There is hope however.

And it lies with Potter.

Booksellers are actually glad that Jay Kay has finally given us all a break and stopped writing the bloody things. The reason is that so many people buy them, the supermarkets (the Greater Daemons of Greed) can put in ludicrous advanced orders before they're even out, enabling them in turn to undercut the bookshops. So in the end the only choice anyone has is to sell the fucking things at a loss. So as always, the little people make nothing and Jay Kay gets even richer. But at least it is opening our eyes just a little to the madness of modern capitalism. And therein lies the hope.

So listen to the Witchfynder, because it'll save a lot of lives and a planet. Don't do a Hermione and go around believing that immense amounts of money and opulent lifestyles are your right. They're not. Nobody should have that sort of money, the planet just can't support it. Be grateful for what you've got and give away lots to those who have got fuck all (because there are more and more of those people around these days). The one thing I will say about Jay Kay is that she's generous... she's a terrible author, but she's generous. So I salute her... or at least I would salute her if she hadn't written those awful books.

Don't believe in Thatcher and her gimme, gimme, gimme bollocks. She was an idiot.

Greed is lethal. It starts wars. It dries the planet out. It burns forests. It clogs the air with shit.

Greed will kill us.

Make no mistake about it.