NUMBER TEN, HEART OF DARKNESS.

 Mr Dave Crook bids farewell to another gang member.

We don't know what this guy did, if anything and, since you mention it, I don't know exactly why - if he did what they say he did -  it is a crime.  Mrs Ishmael, for instance, because of her employment, may look at child pornography images, however they are defined, whereas I  - and you - may not.  It is an axiom of our time - anyone, except a professional or para-professional  or copper, looking at certain images is adding to the original crime committed in their creation; it is an odd logic, isn't it, that the job, trade or profession of the viewer, defines the legitimacy or not of the viewing, as though the images, themselves,  were sentient, which by definition, they are not. It is as though the child subjects of the images live within the images and although native Americans felt that the Daguerreotype photograph stole their souls this is not part of our cultural understanding,  the image is not the person.

Those in or adjacent to the child protection industry- most of criminal justice, social and health and education services -  invigilate themselves,  they say,  have mechanisms in place to stop themselves being turned, by exposure, into beasts. Unless of course, they are beasts already, which, the law of averages says, some must be.  In such circumstances the watching of kiddy porn may be seen as a perk of the job.

  If you or I, however, review this stuff, it is a criminal act, our only purpose being defined as masturbatory.  But suppose we could eradicate every childporn image in the world, what, then would the devotee do? He would just imagine-up some child abuse images for himself, wouldn't he? (....and if my thought dreams could be seen, they'd probably put my head in a guillotine....) And  there's nothing we can do about that - even in a world awash with actual kiddyporn and beastymen it is the imagination against which we must, yet cannot guard. Somebody imagined the image before he set it up, the photograph or the videotape exists as a result of someone's 
image-ination, As Paul Simon sang in Kodachrome:

If you took all the girls I knew

When I was single

And brought them all together for one night

I know they'd never match

My sweet imagination........

If Mr Patrick Cock was viewing BeastULike porn on a Downing Street computer there is no way we can know - for sure - why. Maybe he is a beast, maybe he is not depraved but just has an interest in the 
image-ination of depravity, as I do.  And you do.  Christ, sometimes one can simply no longer look at MediaMinster, at the depravity of Blair and Snotty, the Ballses, the Milibands, Jack Torture;  at Hague and Fox and Duncan Smith, at Osborne and Cameron;  these people are vile, their prolonged study can only weary the student, best to have a break, do something wholesome, go down the garden and plant a daffodil meadow.  But studying them doesn't make me copy them. Looking at filth doesn't make me filthy.

Similarly with kiddyporn, I am sure that it turns the stomach and puts the mind in a bad place, nevertheless, we should all be able to look at this stuff,  maybe compelled to confront its wickedness, for only by doing so can we protect ourselves from it. 

 Nobody says we should not view the vilest depravities of the Nazi war; au contraire, these shocking images have acquired for themselves the same status as the sacred iconography of the early Christian church,  they are regularly paraded before us, in newspapers and on television;  in award winning cinema and between award winning hard covers.  

There is no National Nonce Day but there is a National Holocaust Day, whose purpose is to remind us of cruelty; you can be locked-up for suggesting that Shoah never happened, or that it happened in  a fashion different from the orthodox view.  This libraryful of murderporn is sanctified,  no-one says, No, there are neoNazis who will be aroused by these bulldozed bodies, these incinerated children,  these, the hanged, the whipped, the neckshot, digging their own graves, even looking at these things should be a crime, they are obscene,   they will corrupt and deprave, people  who are not part of the Holocaust trade will masturbate, you know how wicked people are. Nobody says that by watching or reviewing the doings of the filthy Nazi nation we are complicit in the fate of its victims;  nobody says that because it is not true.

And neither is it true of child abuse imagery. It is time we unleashed the demon of child abuse from the supercilious, clutching, exclusive and secretive  I-Know-Best bosom of pc plod and ms do-gooder - it's not as though they stop any of this shit happening, is it,  the experts? It is high time we dragged the beast into the daylight, recognised him and kicked his arse. Do we really need to be policed, lest we are all nascent paedophiles? Fuck off, I say, no, we don't.

But I digress, hard not to.   I came, anyway,  to talk about Cameron's Downing Street, unelected, illegitimate in its conception, the Coalition of spivs chancers and criminals is increasingly tainted by arrest and prosecution. At what point do we say, fuck this shit, the whole barrel of apples is rotten?

Cameron with Coulson, his own version of Blair's venomous psychobastard, Big Al Campbell;  Coulson is currently on trial for all sorts of anti-democracy shit.

We said all along that this appointment was a deal brokered in Rupert Murdoch's office - access to the heart of government in exchange for tabloid support. And so it was. Naked, barefaced treachery, for which Cameron shuld have gone to jail, like ButcherBlair before him.

We have ever damned the LibDems as a gang of nasty hypocrites, thieves and  criminal beasts;  in exchange for commons votes Cameron appointed this cunt energy seckatry, 


even when the dogs in the street knew he was bent, as bent as he is repellent. Cabinet minister goes to jail and no-one says a word about the judgement  of his boss.

Cameron's appointment, Arseman Fox,

 flying his boyfriend all around the world at my expense, 

misrepresenting his lover's position, running a bought and paid for, maverick foreign policy;  a thieving, traitorous degenerate and all that happened to him was a twenty-grand severance payment, not even a slap on the wrist.

  

Oh, go on then, big boy, slap me.


And then there's the witch of Chipping Norton, Bekah, a close friend, lol-er,  neighbour and co-worker of Dave Crook's.

Bekah too, is on trial for serious, anti-democracy offences  and she is currently attempting to bamboozle the jury with sad tales of her poisonous womb, her working class upbringing and her wretchedly unsatisfactory bed-hopping.

 A group of violent young offenders,
still at large.
 
As well as his failure to actually learn anything, Dave Crook's undergraduate days, along with those of many of his current co-offenders,  were punctuated by loutish, bullying behaviour which would have seen ordinary people jailed.  Dave has never quite denied using hard drugs - cocaine isn't like a bit of weed - probably for fear that BoJo or some other cunt would contradict him, 

 
Once teenage hoodlums, now sleek organised criminals.
 
when the time was right.  And since the coup with the LibDems Dave has surrounded himself with filth.

It may be that, like lots of rich kids, he gets off on associating with the shady and disreputable, or it may be that he is shady and disreputable, himself.  Whichever it is, the more we learn about life in Downing Street - particularly the reluctance to reveal this latest scandal - the more it resembles a safe house, in which a Mafia family has taken to the matresses, is holed-up, not knowing from where the next shot will be fired.