Tag Archives: Tories

Tories tacitly admit they’re more dangerous than porn

The story’s done the rounds that the Tories have removed old speeches from the internet. Yes, the Tories’ actions do raise questions about the ability of others to hold them to account but, wait. What’s this? It’s the Register pointing out in “Oh My GOD! Have the TORIES ERASED THE INTERNET?*” that the reports are technically inaccurate and Labour have done the same thing (and giving their former colleague, now at Computer Weekly and who started the panic, a swift kick in the shins in the process). Neither of our biggest parties wants us to look too closely at what they’ve said in the past and neither needed to resort to sinister tactics to do it. So there you go. I’d suggest that if you plan on holding the Lib Dems to account for their many many broken promises, you nail the original promises down fast before they do the same thing (if they haven’t already).

Stuck with the yellow and blue

Well I don’t know how we got this blight,
No one won on election night,
I’m so scared in case I fall down the stairs,
‘Cause they’re closing our beloved NHS,
Cowards to the left of them,
Racists to the right, here I am,
Stuck with the yellow and blue.

Yes I’m stuck with the yellow and blue,
And it seems there’s not a thing I can do,
It’s so hard to see smug grins on their face,
Lost control, Britain’s all over the place,
Cowards to the left of them,
Racists to the right, here I am,
Stuck with the yellow and blue.

They say if you started out with nothing,
You can become a self made man,
But you’ll find out they’re all lyin’,
They’ll slap you in the face and say,
Tuition fees…. tuition fees…..

Trying to make some sense of it all,
But I can see it makes no sense at all,
Is it cool to go to sleep on the floor?
‘Cause I can’t afford my rent no more,
Cowards to the left of them,
Racists to the right, here I am,
Stuck with the yellow and blue.

Well you started out with nothing,
And still they want to cut your funds,
And LibDems, they all come crawlin,
Stab you in the back and say,
Please…. Please…..

Well I don’t know how we got this blight,
No one won on election night,
I’m so scared in case I fall on my face,
Cause no one gets the Sick these days,
Cowards to the left of them,
Racists to the right, here I am,
Stuck with the yellow and blue,
Yes I’m stuck with the yellow and blue,
Stuck with the yellow and blue.

100% pure grade horse*

Horse. It’s everywhere. It’s even in the food we eat but you haven’t been told the whole story. The media have been careful to consistently use the word “horse” and disingenuously use stock pictures of the animals of the same name but it is now becoming clear that this is all part of a cunning ploy to hide the truth from the British people. The devastating truth is that this is the biggest drugs deal in the history of the world, with food being doctored with 100% pure grade horse or, in other words, heroin. Yes that’s right folks, doping is taking place on a scale never seen before. On a scale that makes Lance Armstrong look like a rank amateur. Slipped into our food “horse” keeps us docile. Using beef as the conduit for its introduction into the food supply suggests that someone somewhere laughed at the thought of making the British public bovine, proving evil people have a rubbish idea of comedy.

Don’t believe me? Consider this. The state’s own guide to drugs “Frank” (real name unknown) says that “A small dose of heroin gives the user a feeling of warmth and well-being, bigger doses can make you sleepy and very relaxed”. It also admits that “Heroin is highly addictive and people can quickly get hooked.” Faced with overwhelming anger and misery and the very real threat of protests in the streets, what self-respecting Conservative led government wouldn’t decide to control the masses using any means possible? After all, these are the people who use language to describe unemployed people which would be more at home in a Victorian tract on the “deserving poor and those lazy lay-abouts slugging cheap gin in gutters and leaving their children to fend for themselves in pubs”. Ahem. Anyway, what’s more Victorian than opium taking on a massive scale?

When you stop to think about it, this isn’t even an original plan. It’s up there with Cushelle’s “do bears shit in the woods” loo roll advertising campaign. Marx called religion the opiate for the masses because he understood that docility is an important means of retaining power, even when the State is trampling its own people. TV successfully took the place of religion for a long time but then things changed. People started to question TV, just as they questioned religion before it. It began preaching to a more informed crowd. Just as mass education affected religious belief, the river of information flowing through the internet meant that the powerful interests who decided both what news and what fiction we were able to see started to lose control. Unfortunately for them, this was timed to coincide with a collapse of capitalism no less important than the fall of European communism some years previously. People, normal people, began to go off script. They questioned and shared information. They became the greatest threat to the status quo. The Government has done what it can to openly dismiss its people with vile rhetoric, demonising millions, but it hasn’t been enough. When they realised they could no longer control the public in one way, they made the decision to control them in any way possible. A decade in Afghanistan. A much repeated maxim referring to opiates. It was blindingly obvious. It was audacious.

You may be wondering “why beef? Surely vegetarians are a threat to the status quo?”. You’re right but don’t think vegetarians and vegans are exempt from this dastardly scheme. Have you ever really looked at refill bags of popular herbs such as basil and oregano? Marijuana. Cumin and chilli powder? Heroin. Oh, they covered their bases alright. In fact, it’s been so meticulously planned that they’ve deliberately acted like incompetent buffoons on every single new policy for two and a half years just to put us off the scent.

You can’t have failed to notice that when capitalism collapsed we quickly saw stories telling us to make do and mend and to grow our own. An exhortation to grow our own was dangerous. What if we went the whole hog and became entirely self-sufficient? They’d be hard pressed to make schemes like Workfare happen if supermarkets lost vast numbers of customers but, more importantly, they knew they needed to control the supply chain in order for their appalling plan to work. They didn’t want to have to find another way of distributing horse. It wasn’t long before the grow your own message was drowned out by “keep calm and carry on”. It’s everywhere. There’s no escape. Why is this? I’ll tell you. When some idiot dug up an old poster, he gave the Tories another way of making their scam work. Another factor was the possibility we would subliminally recall the message when the horse kicked in. Don’t fight it, we were being told. I mean, come on, what other explanation is there for Cameron drip feeding “chillax”, “calm down dear” and “hug a hoodie” into our collective subconscious. You didn’t think he believed his own shit did you?

Boris Johnson is another part of the plan. Boris. If Winnie the Pooh was an evil right winger, he’d be Boris. He’s a threat to Cameron but he’s not wearing concrete boots. Why is that? I can answer that too. Boris is exactly what a nation of mind-controlled druggies need. He speaks and, in our dulled state of euphoria, we want to tickle his tummy. He can say anything no matter how abhorrent and we’ll love him. You thought the zip wire incident was unplanned? Think again my friends. I have five words for you. Winnie the Pooh honey pot. They knew we’d lap that crap up. It’s all an elaborate plan, giving a very different meaning to the term “honey trap”.

As rumours of horse being found in food grew, they had to spin like fast spinny things and they have, laying the blame at the doors of their favourite villains du jour. The Romanians are blamed for it getting into the beef. The EU is even blamed for not having enough laws to control the food chain (incongruity ceases to be a problem once the public has already been doped). Even if we try to get the truth out, they have another fallback villain in Afghan terrorists who can be blamed for the production of opium. It really is a work of evil genius.

So there you go. We’ve been suppressed by a juggernaut of evil. Now you really do know the truth.

* may contain traces of bullshit

Striving for a better debate

The Guardian did an excellent piece today on the vicious promotion of a divide between “strivers” and “skivers” (Strivers v Skivers). No longer are we a nation of haves and have-nots. The Government want us to accept we are a nation of wills and will-nots (and aren’t facing serious opposition). The categorisation of human beings into good and bad in the form of nursery rhymes is enormously frustrating: strivers/skivers, workers/shirkers. Quite apart from driving an artificial wedge between people, its lazy. In fact, I’d hazard the proposition that those in Government promoting this concept are not strivers themselves. How can anyone who produces slogans so utterly without merit or nuance be strivers? How do they even define strivers? The dictionary says that to strive is “to make a great effort”. For some people it takes that just to get out of bed in the morning, for physical or mental health reasons. Equally, unemployed people can make a great effort to find work but still fail for any number of reasons for which they shouldn’t be demonised.

Are you in work? Ask yourself this. Do you make a great effort every day? Do you strive to achieve high standards, seek out opportunities for self-improvement? Are you really “all that”? Many jobs involve getting through the day for a salary without punching anyone in the face (a salary which is, for many, insufficient to live on, leading presumably to an existential crisis for those concerned who claim tax credits and benefits). I’m not criticising employed people. I’m just saying it’s time to disperse from the battle lines the Government has created for us. It’s their battle to win, with evidence and well reasoned arguments. If they can’t do that, they should lose. Please, don’t nod along with whatever unpleasant rhetoric they use to avoid making reasoned arguments. Doing so would make us sheep, not traditionally well known as strivers. Instead, let’s strive to be more empathic. Let’s strive to understand ourselves and others a little better. Let’s strive to win honesty from our Government and to be given actual policy discussion in Parliament and when campaigning, instead of childish arguments that don’t actually explain anything at all.

The dictionary definition of “skive”, lest we forget,┬áis to evade work or responsibility.

Strivers v Skivers Guardian 10 Jan 13

Window dressing politik

I became unable to work just a few months after moving to my current home. I remained off work for three years and was on incapacity benefit for two and a half of them. I have been back at work for longer than I was away now. I’m prompted by more recent events to share my story. I read George Osborne’s last conference speech with revulsion. I watched him repeat his divisive message in his Autumn Statement with dismay. His message couldn’t be further from my experience.

When I became unable to work, I felt guilty and ashamed. There were those who found it expedient to encourage those feelings but they weren’t my neighbours. I live in an area mixed with private and housing association homes. Before and after surgery I spent a lot of time walking around the area, trying to keep moving and get stronger. My neighbours were unfailingly kind and supportive. They offered practical help and were my cheerleaders. They kept me going and made me feel less of a failure for my inability to work. I lost count of the jokey words of support I had from total strangers as I hobbled along (metacarpel jokes were the order of the day, thanks to Wayne Rooney).

I also had a lot of support from elderly people at my local pool. They dubbed me “mermaid” because my swimming was strong and elegant (albeit very painful!), even though I could barely walk on dry land.

Along the way, I also met other people with similar disabilities and one thing I discovered was that, for all the support I had from able bodied people (or people with different disabilities), it was important both to me and to them to have someone to talk to every now and then who understood all of the challenges, including failings in the healthcare and benefits sytems.

Local shopkeepers were friendly and concerned and one shop even offered to deliver bits and pieces to me (I refused because it was necessary for my health to keep walking the quarter of a mile to his shop). Outside my direct neighbourhood, I encountered more kindness. In the supermarket, staff were helpful when I let them be (I’m pretty stubborn about wanting to do things myself, even when it’s obvious I shouldn’t).

You could argue that I had it easier than some. I’m blatently middle class and it’s true that people might react differently to me than, say, a couple of the men I know locally with similar disabilities. One elderly man I met one day said “It seems so unfair that someone so young, slim and pretty should have a problem like yours.” He meant well and I thanked him but it did make me wonder whether he would have felt the same sympathy for some other people I know.

Six months after surgery, I decided that enough was enough. I wanted to buy my Christmas cards myself and damn the distance I would have to walk (a half mile each way) to do it. I made it. I bought two packs of cards but, by then, I was wiped out. I felt like the packs of cards were a full bucket of water in my hand and felt tears of frustration at my own infirmity well up. Two men, both complete strangers, each separately attempted to help me. One even offered to go up to the train station to get a taxi for me. They didn’t know me. They just wanted to help a fellow human being. So many people do.

Any unpleasant incidents which occurred were always thoughtless bullying connected with the disability itself, not whether I was working. I never heard a word about that.

All of the kindness I experienced mattered to me. It really did. I felt less alone. I don’t know what George Osbone and his ilk experience in their daily lives, but I certainly don’t recognise their picture of resentment driven griping from mine. Not everyone will have the same experience as me. I know that but I hope that more recognise my story than his. If you would have treated me the way everyone else did, I’d appreciate it if you would read and sign the WOW Petition calling for a full impact assessment on proposed changes to benefits for sick and disabled people.