Fiona Mackeown, above, famously left her daughter, Scarlett, 16, in sunny Goa, with a 25 year old druggy boyfriend, whilst she took her other six children by assorted, absent fathers off somewhere else on the sub-continent; on her return, the sixteen year old was drugged, raped and dead. Ever since, Fiona, like her social betters, Gerry and Cilla, has been blaming the local police for her/their own scandalous neglect. As though failures of investigation somehow obliterate the initial neglect. Gerry and Cilla are, by their own admission, wonderful parents, everybody leaves a three-year old alone, at night, in charge of two two year olds, in a strange apartment, in a strange town with a transient population and goes out on the piss with valued professional colleagues, absolutely everybody.
Fiona's trip was, it turns out, funded by her fiddling the benefits system to the tune of nearly twenty grand, for which offence she now faces imprisonment. This is unfortunate for she is due, shortly, in India, to give evidence on the trial of those accused of her daughter's killing and may, therefore, have to give this evidence by videolink from jail in order to, as she says, in the odious, current parlance, Get Justice for Scarlett, quite what the Indians will make of this visitation from the Old Country is difficult to guess; not, probably, a lot. Delivering Justice to the dead has always struck me as a pretty fatuous aspiration, giving due care and attention to the living seems much more desirable and attainable than any amount of cloze-ya and moving forward, over lines drawn , down the highway of tabloid emotion.
Fiona is, she says, fund-raising, trying to get this twenty grand off other people, so that she can pay it into court and mitigate her sentence, the irony of it all is miles over her self-besotted head, the silly cow, steal the money in the first place, beg it in the second. Some of her troubles, she insists, are down to misfortunes, she has "come out of an abusive relationship" trans: she was fucking some worthless thug and "loves her children to bits" trans: is utterly irresponsible. One of her formers, the father of two of her unfortunate spawn has recently died from alcoholic poisoning.
The tale of Fiona and Scarlett is horrid and it is fuel for all those who, Portillo-like, bash the single mum rather than the absent father, whilst extolling, applauding the torturer and the war criminal, Blair, Pinochet, Kissinger, Straw, Hoon; none of these will feel the contempt flung at Fiona, her ancient, stretchmarked midriff exposed for the snappers, her dereliction compounded with every unprotected EarthMother coupling, barebacking with every passing drunk.
Resent her as we may, though, Fiona and the hideous McCanns speak a language of entitlement, selfishness, of individuial rights and loves taught them by the state and by skymadeupnewsandfilth. It is ok for the feckless to be so, as long as they Love My Kids To Bits. I can't be the only one perplexed by the Army mums Loving Their Sons To Bits, rather more loving in these lone-parent households than one would think was healthy; Lance Bombardier Wayne unreasonably being expected to fill the emotional gap left by his absent dad or succession of dads, natural, step, common-law or overnight and if Fiona should lose a son to the Blair Wars we can anticipate her pushing herself front and centre, demanding Justice, body armour, helicopters, whatever. May be in a reactionary minority here but I am sick to death of gobby parents Loving Their Kids To Bits; I would just rather they looked after them, instead.
And all the while the cancer runs riot through the national body. In earlier, better days, the McCanns would have been spat at in the street, ostracised, now they pursue a second career, travelling the world, First Class, suing people and liaising with law enforcement and welfare agencies on how best to protect children, Kafka would shit himself in disbelief at the surreality of Gerry and Cilla, Beardy Branson, Kirsty Wark and young parent Gordon Snot. The lower orders, on the sink estates, amazed at the exent of the McCann's scamming, now try to emulate them. Doctor knows best.
In earlier days, Fiona Mackeown, her foolish, imbecile fecundity and gabshitery would have been sorted, by parents, health visitors, by extended family, even by a responsible, considerate husband; now she has fucked and whined and blabbered her way through Lord knows how much heartache and may wind up in jail, her children further neglected, she a laughing stock at home and abroad.
That both Mackeown and the revolting McCanns have acted so irresponsibly and yet deny any wrongdoing indicates the extent of this malaise, Fiona may well have been skint all her life but the other two shitbags were being well paid, it is not a poverty-related issue, this sense of blamelessness, righteousness, even; the worse one behaves, it seems, the greater one's whining McCannery.
Whatever spurious, self-exculpatory bullshit these people peddle to skymadeupnewsandfilth, they must, presumably, at some point, in an empty room, out of the spotlight to which they accustom themselves, sit down and weep for their greed and their lies, for the children they neglected.
But they are tutored, of course, in their behaviour, from on high. The Queen, the heir to the throne, the Lords, the Commons, the Bar and the Bench, the Church and the Media; take your pick, murderers, thieves, embezzlers, blackmailers, ponces, pimps, slags, child molesters and Oh, Fuck me, I just remembered this conversation with Paul Burrell, aren't I a silly old monarch?
The thing which is so sad about Fiona is that one used to be able to confidently expect better of the working class, they just didn't do this exotic shit. Now, governed by reprobates, scoundrels and degenerates, why shouldn't they?
GERRY AND CILLA McCANN
HOT ON THE TRAIL OF SOME MORE MONEY.
23 comments:
I cannot fault your post in any way whatsoever. Manna to an Oldrightie's heart. Sadly, conservatism and Conservatism have suffered behind the scenes with much of the visible failures of socialism and Labour. Snobbery and arrogance is the disease of power and the ruling classes. If Cameron were to win this election big then change might actually begin. Unfortunately he is up against many of his own class and other vested interests.
Interesting times.
Pure genius, as ever. I'm married to one of these self-absorbed types with the moral fibre of a stroppy 14 year old.
However, I must step in over the issue of the Queen's conversation.
The utterly brainless police convinced Brenda and Brian to prosecute Burrell, telling them that they had evidence that Burrell had tried to flog St Di's stuff. Hints of a picture of him wearing a dress were leaked to the press, cash only in brown envelope, please.
However, at the end of the first week of the trial, no evidence of Burrell flogging off stuff was presented to court. Brenda and Brian compared notes and felt it possible that the police had been lying through their teeth.
Certainly, the trial fell over after the Queen made it known she was livid. Yes, she said, I told you I knew Burrell had 'items' belonging to St Di.
The devious and dim-wited metropolitan Police tried to cover their arses and blamed the Queen's memory. Bollocks.
Incidentally, Burrell had been sacked by the swivel-eye princess just days before she was killed and was bumming around the palaces trying to get a new job.
'sall true, Mr I. Have rellies on inside of palace walls. Honest, not madeup.
ps Brian liked by staff.
I must bow, mr yaic, if not to Brenda, then to your inside knowledge and contacts and to the fact that nothing anyone said about the Met would surprise me.
Like many, though, I still await an explanation of how Brian can send the servants down to flog-off the gifts sent him by foolish well-wishers, trouser the proceeds and not pay any tax on them.
As for Diana, however vapid, manipulative and crazy she became, I believe that any even-handed examination of the FairyTale Marriage must find that - a not very bright, motherless child versus a thousand-year Firm - she was more sinned against than sinning, albeit that she too, as per the above post, under the spell of necromancers and shamans, rubbishy pop stars and even rubbishier jounalists became a fluent speaker of McCann.
The biggest problem facing this country, and the world, is the ignorance, of a large percentage of the population of the developed world, of just exactly what money is and how it comes into being.
Until those who think they "have a right" to it (and I include all those who are not engaged "at the coal face") realise how it is created we shall forever have the scroungers and sticky fingered.
'...her dereliction compounded with every unprotected EarthMother coupling, barebacking with every passing drunk' - hee hee hee.
Ah, top quality as per usual.
When the McCanns met Pope Bennynazi, do you think they tried to give him some well intentioned advice about how to deal with nonce inquiries? Seems he could have used it.
I think the original sum was 50 grand negotiated down to 20. This slag is the tip of the iceberg there are millions of them out there all demanding their "rights" as in benefit and a house thanks.
You talk about ruin this is an example no shame why work, fuck that you mean get out of bed every day before noon? no thank you very much. why was her daughter not questioned why she was not at school? I saw this in the UK where I know of women in there 40's who have never worked 3 or 4 kids by different fathers nearly all with a criminal record before they leave school providing they go in the first place, you have heard of wash and go try fuck and go leave you with it love bye and in 9 months another feral turd is born. How to stop it try this. When she goes down the social she says that she doesn't know who the father is otherwise he will have to donate some of his beer tokens every week so she gets married to the state for the next 50 years. It used to be that the first one was a mistake not anymore as the slut has no future so why not breed? The situation is now out of control so how about this? When she goes for the benefit she is told in no uncertain terms that there will be no money at all until her amnesia gets better and tell who the father is. The government should also say that there is no way on this earth that the woman will be given accomodation by way of private rented or council property if she can't stay at home OK a hostel will be provided and as family planning is free and unversal there will definately no money for and other kid she pumps out. Look on the brightside at least the UK is first in something highest rate of teenage pregnancies in the world. I know and you know that there is no way that the above will be implemented but I can dream.
From whence comes this ubiquitous sense of entitlement? And when did it start? Talking to a friend the other day, who works in debt collection for a certain council, she tells me how a family, moved into a newly refurbed council house, will rip out the central heating system, boiler, pipes and all, sell it, and then tell the council to install a new one. Said council is obliged to do this because there are children, who must be kept warm. And this is not one family, this is many. Council bills tenant for new heating system. Tenant will not or cannot pay. Tenant agrees repayment schedule of £1 per month. Which they may or may not keep to.
This is not about class or poverty. Honourable working class people still exist. But they are bucking the trend of itsmyrights and givemeallmyentitlements. Was there one moment in the last 30, 40, 50 years where there was a signal shift? Or is it the accretion of a thousand tiny actions?
One way to stop it is to do what they did in Moston Peoples Republic of Manchester. Millions of European money, translation our money was spent refurbing hundreds of terraced houses. Slag and current boyfriend move in combi boiler moves out only a grand each, so after two were sold to keep the skag supply going what they did was put in off peak electric storage heating, let them try and sell the bricks out of that. As for its my right innit! I think bit by bit, councils now have ready, strapped in, sitting comfortably? Grief councillors and how do they train them, debt councillors who tell creditors to fuck off on behalf of their "client" rent harassment officers I know all about these as when I asked for the rent that was paid by the benefit people but the tenant was pocketing it was offered an unlimited fine and 6 months in prison. The next time someone knocks on my door asking if U am OK for services and money will be the first unlike the slags and bags brigade who know its my right innit! Who are also experts on every penny they can screw out of the system.Just gets better don't you think?
It's not an entirely mischievous enquiry: Is there an artistic component to this dimension of Ruin? The Boys From The Blackstuff, maybe, Carla Lane's Bread, Dennis Potter stuff and currently Shameless on C4? The Counter economy - the car boot sale and the contraband Golden Virginia and Carlsberg Full Strength and a bit of shoplifting - being seen, along with benefit fraud, as an expression of post modernist heroism?
There is a comfortable, to me at any rate, posture which dictates that Thatcher and her spivs having said Unemployment Is A Price Worth Paying, invited, encouraged the benefits culture and that otherwise pig-ignorant, careerist equal opportunities activists, mainly, I must say, in my experience, blacks, compounded the undermining of Decency, made it ok for people to aquiesce with the state denying them work; instead of ripping-up paving slabs, the disadvantaged mass instead studied The Welfare Benefits Handbook issued by The Child Poverty Action Group and learned to speak McCann; the potentially rebellious made into canny claimants and of course we are now in the third generation, Thatcher's grandchildren, demonstrating Get On Yer Bike initiative by ripping out the boilers and faking the claim.
The insane and impudent over-reach of the criminal law into people's private affairs has massively accelerated, supercharged the potency, the variety and the availability of so-called drugs with which people now alter their consciousness. The busybody prohibition of harmless hashish has led to a dominant Underworld, peddling all kinds of worse, weird, addictive shit and the attendant acquisitive crime. Put a blind, malicious, gabshite imbecile in the Home Office and you will not have your sorrows to seek.
I think, to answer Mr PTB, that it is not so much an accretion of tiny events as a five-yearly-renewable assumption of I-Know-Bestism which is, actually, I-Know-Fuck-Allism and I return, always, to the post's final point- when people see -as they do, increasingly - their rulers with their noses in the trough why should they, impoverished by government diktat, behave any more nobly. It may well be incremental, Mr ptb, corrosive but the worse we see them, the worse we, ourselves, behave.
This, of course, is no comfort to mr anonymous, cheated of his money and threatened by a belligerent bureaucracy; how could it be ?
I wish I could untangle all this but I can't. It hurts more than I could tell, the frightful situation of Fiona MacKeown, standing on its head, as it does, the maxim, Women and Children First, making us into ersatz Peter Lilleys, singing conference ditties of sexist oppression and hateful misogyny. But there it is, even as we chronicle Ruin, we, too, are ruined.
35 years ago this month Pol Pot(installed by the balls up the CIA made) and his merry men rolled into Phom Phen and it was year zero. The Khermer Rouge asked what people did for a living all the lawyers, accountants,finamcial advisors and if they had managment consultants, corporate logo designers etc. then along with all the other parasites were as you say "up against the wall mother fuckers" and before you start yes I do know of the terror after and I have been there. Perhaps we could get some of the parasites in the UK out there sorting out the unexploded ordance still waiting to blow some poor sod up, kill 2 birds(grief councillors, social workers) with 1 stone.
I find, increasingly, that my touchstone is The Ragged-Trousered Philanthropists. Yes, it's fictional, but it documents a period when the working classes looked at their 'betters' and fully understood their position. In some version of the master-slave dialectic, where the master's dependency on the slave weakens the former to such an extent that, if the slaves can recognise their common cause with one another, everything could change.
Now it is 'I' and 'me' and 'mine', everywhere, all the time. (I find myself automatically counting these words in interviews and press conferences.) And this may be the greatest trick the masters' class has ever pulled, beyond stealing the common land. So long as an atomised sensibility can be maintained, the slaves' class will never recognise common cause, and each will scramble to grab their dues (and then some) before another takes it.
This perversion of humanity is so painful to me it leaves me shaking my head only in despair, not even in disapproval anymore.
Always manage to have a couple of copies to lend to people, mr ptb, although few complete it; not sure that I ever did, much as I love it; wonder what Tressell would make of the idea of PinStripe Masters of the Universe, operating, with government encouragement, entirely outside the law, their crimes underwritten by the taxes of the poor, an effrontery a million times more pungent and impudent than the Enclosures.
Good job there's lots of Cruelty TeeVee to watch, eh, keep the people's minds occupied.
They had an abridged edition out during the war Barrington wasn't in it. I think it should be compulsory reading in schools providing the fuckers can read.
I think, Mr Ishmael, that we will find our villain in money. In our grandfathers' time, if you had not the money to buy something, it did not get bought. If a man wanted something, he worked, saved and bought it. And even, if a man did not work nor did he eat.
There was the odd war to thin out the ranks and to keep the survivors thankful. What did the survivors of WWI do? They went home, thanked their lucky stars and got the fuck to work. What did the survivors of WWII do? They went home invented the welfare state and the NHS, spawned the Sixties Hippies.
The notion that in a civilised, rich country nobody should starve or not have a roof over their head is noble. And I think in the UK none do starve although plenty sleep under the stars. When this external nobility of notion turns into an internal entitlement - this is when the entitled one loses the connection. This is free money. Some other sad twat will somehow fund this. And I want a 104" telly like Jazmin's. A nation can carry a good few wastrels like this but it cannot carry a good few million.
If we add into the mix the problem of Thatcher and the Unions, who between them killed what was left of the (heavy) manufacturing industries, we find ourselves without anywhere for these people to work even if they fucking wanted to. If we further add in the desecration of education system - A-stars all round, kids, didn't you do well? - and we will see that we are a couple of generations too late with this conversation.
They, the poor fucked legions - don't have to work, can't work, still consume at a rate ten times our grandfathers', and don't understand what we are on about anyway. And it is not just now. It is not just the UK. Bread and circuses. Gibbon. Ruin, decadence and decay.
What's on telly?
Saw Fiona MacKeown in Barnstaple recently and that photo flatters her.
They lack any knowledge of history, these I-me-my people. So there is only an ever-present Now, like an infant who wants to put everything in its mouth and who lacks any sense of the Other having an equal consciousness.
I have seen the living embodiment of the evisceration of education in this country, not in the illiterate, alienated truants, but in the middle class successes. Across twenty years of university teaching I watched their cultural and historical knowledge dwindle and atrophy, to the point where they knew nothing of the Garden of Eden or the pyramids or the suffragettes, let alone 1066, 1649, 1789 or 1914.
And that is Ruin.
A more benign observation, mr m, is that HP, the never-never, was licensed by HM Govt and the people urged to consume, live now, pay later and said consumption led to the still current myth of infinite growth from finite resources, fabulous, affordable pensions, paid for from economic growth. Governments, stupid people, like Gordon Snot, have peddled this nonsense for over sixty years. Now, not only is credit available it is, for the funding of services and pensions, essential, a patriotic duty to use it to buy the planned obsolescent goods which, actually, they neither want nor need but are fooled into thinking they do.
The fashion for extravagant weddings, Mr ptb, underscores your complaint about few understanding deferred gratification. People with not a pot to piss in, silly totties turned despot for a few weeks, cajole and bully all around them that they might, for a day, resemble some Hollywood slapper; the videotape of the event more important than the event itself.
That's cruel, mr yardarm but this, Fionaism, this is why we become coarsened. Justifiably enraged by her limitless stupidity, where we might have said Poor Cow, now we say Stupid Fucking Bitch or in her case, Women And Children Last.
The fashion for extravagant weddings," Friend of mine borrowed over £20,000 to pay for his daughters wedding she 30 him 50 odd grandfather catholic church so it was tea with the vicar for 6 weeks and a load of lies about joining. These 2 are now seperated but my mate will be paying for "her day" until he dies of old age. Pity you couldn't get a pic of Fiona with her oh so tasteful tattoo aka tramp stamp as for stupidity, backpacking in India with someone else paying or on the dole in the UK? I would like to bet that if her daughter wasn't bumped off she would still be there.
You are spot on, Mr PTB. ANd it isn't difficult or necessarily costly. When I was a lad, a baby really, there was a thing called a ladybird book. I was looking at ladybird books before I knew what a book was.
As I remember they were five bob. (Or were they two-and-six?) I had maybe a dozen or so. "Alexander the Great" I read a hundred times before I was at school a day. I'm still reading about him now. The savage bastard!
If my kids ask me something, I engage them with an interesting nugget (if I've got one) and if they persevere point them to books and Wikipedia. Wikipedia being the Ladybird books of our age. All you have to do is to get them to want to know stuff.
It is this early start to enquiry and just plain wanting-to-know that has been lost. Schools build on this but they no longer do because it's not there. And, lo, we are screwed in a generation or two because now even the teachers don't get it.
My kids are bright and sparky but they are immeasurably less well educated than I was lucky enough to be. And so they are less able to find stuff out for themselves. And they go to good schools and are much luckier than some poor kids. This is the sin for which we should all be damned. We should not have accepted this bullshit that damages and coarsens the very fabric of the lives of our children.
And, fuck me, Thatcher had her bleeding oar in that one too. And Crosland! Dig the bastard up and hang him. But this is not a Grammar School argument. The loss is the failure to pursue excellence in education for its own sake, to encourage enquiry for its own sake. Exams, points, tables, scoring systems for immigrants, no waiting list at the Doctor's... It is all the same sorry, dead-headed nonsense. They take us for fools and we do nothing because we are become fools.
The loss is the failure to pursue excellence in education for its own sake, to encourage enquiry for its own sake.
It baffles and humbles me that my parents, who both left school at 13, possessed then and now naturally enquiring minds while simultaneously regarding themselves as stupid. They cannot understand how they produced two 'clever' children, both graduates, both professionals. I can. Both of us taught to read before we started school. Both of us supported, emotionally if not financially, as we chose to get educations far exceeding anything they understood. But they have a respect for learning, for wanting to know stuff.
Your children are blessed, Mr mongoose, for your having inculcated in them that habit of asking what and why and what if. It will last a lifetime and no school will be able to undermine it.
Mr Ish, that wedding business leaves me bemused and offended. It is a folly not confined to the young as evidenced by Mr anon's tale above. This weekend I shall not be at a wedding, which for both parties is third time around, both in their 60s, where there be a pink stretch limousine and twelve bridesmaids and numerous other expensive follies. A third attempt at the 'best day of her life'? It would be funny if it weren't so absurd.
If you have lifetime to spare.
http://aljahom.wordpress.com/2010/04/21/red-floor-at-night-chav-scum-has-died/#comment-4227
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