When I was a teenager, filled with idealism, naivety and white guilt, I attended a church-organised Commonwealth disco. Churchy person in the corner, playing records. Sitting round the room on hard chairs were around 20 young black African men. Not a woman amongst them. Not much English spoken. They were there on some exchange visit. Me and my friend Hilary, who was earnest and churchy, were the only females apart from the redoubtable middle aged churchy matron with the records. I have never been so sought after as a dance partner in my life, before or since. The most exhausting thing about the experience wasn't so much the dancing - although that was enthusiastic (enthusiasm= definition: religious fervour supposedly resulting directly from divine inspiration, typically involving speaking in tongues and wild, uncoordinated movements of the body); it was the need to arch one's lower body away from the massive erections each dancer possessed and was determined to grind into one's groin, assisted by the hands on one's bum, firmly pressing said groin against said erection. Hell's teeth - I hadn't even seen an erection at that stage of my life, let alone been up close and personal with the equipment of 20 black Africans. And the white guilt - which had made me agree to Hilary's request to attend the damn disco in the first place, prevented me from giving offence to the chaps by flaunting my white privilege and saying unhand me, sir. So these unlettered young Africans obviously thought I was a bit of a goer, and I ended up in tears, sweaty and feeling I had been the victim of multiple sexual assaults. Which I had, of course, but I didn't have the language or thought frame to understand what was happening.
When I was a bit older, my white guilt had me accepting the invitation of an Asian man, who I thought was a fellow student at my University, because I met him in the Student Union, to go back to his digs, which he purportedly shared with several other students, to partake of an authentic chicken curry. You already know that was a mistake. His digs turned out to be a nasty bed sit in a dilapidated Victorian terrace house of multiple occupation. There were no other students. He wasn't a student. The curry was real, though, and very good, although served in the pan in which it had been cooked and eaten with fingers and chapattis. The table was covered with newspaper, onto which the chicken bones were dropped, when sucked clean. I was told that I was lucky to be the object of the attentions of a Prince from Pakistan. I said I was a virgin. He said all you white girls say that. Bit of a cultural clash, really, although, again, my white guilt prevented me from giving offence, and, again, I ended up in tears, feeling abused.
Years later, when I was a Probation Officer, my employers required me to go on an anti-racism training course. I wasn't singled out for being politically incorrect. We all had to go. Here, I learned that I was racist. The two trainers were black women, and the first exercise, an ice-breaker, was that the participants had to call out names used to describe black people, which the trainers would solemnly write on a flip chart. Not unnaturally, we were extremely reluctant to do so. We were all white, professional and filled with good manners, white guilt and not wanting to give offence. However, the trainers goaded us until one participant cracked and offered up "negro". That was inscribed on the flip chart. After that, in turn, each participant had to volunteer a word. The chart was filled with very offensive words and phrases. At that, the trainer laid down her marker pen, turned to the group she was training, and said - "you see why I don't want to have children? How could I bring black children into this world where this is how people describe them?" Nasty trick, that. Day after day we were subjected to the same psychological manipulation. I learned that the definitions the nuns had taught me - that there are 5 racial groupings: caucasian, amerindian, negroid, mongaloid, australoid - were all racist bollocks. I learned that if a mum holding her baby in her arms in a lift shrinks away when a black person enters the lift, this micro-aggression will give the baby racism, like a virus. I learned that if a white person starts a statement by saying "I'm not a racist, but...." that's a sure-fire way of knowing a racist is talking to you. I learned that only white people can be racist: that discrimination may be universal, but only discrimination coupled with power equals racism. And only white people have power.
There was no nuance or subtlety. If a white person is in the room, that person has the power - even if the person is a young virginal female being required to dance with 20 black guys with erections. And white women's tears are always manipulative.
I heard more of this shite fairly recently, from an older woman who was committed to white guilt theory. She said that we are the privileged inheritors of colonialism. I'd had enough. No, not me, I said. I was looked at with curious fascination. Was I stupid? Didn't I understand the world and the role that white people have played in cornering resources and deliberately reducing to penury the non-white nations?
Not me.
Well, perhaps not, but your ancestors' actions have placed you in this privileged position.
No, they haven't. One ancestor was transported to Australia, requiring the rest of the family to move to Yorkshire in penury. I'm the inheritor of generations of northern working class poverty and discrimination. Dirt poor. First person in my family to go to University - where I was insulted by upperclass twats. One chap had the audacity to tell me to proffer my hand, upon which he gazed intently (me thinking, oh, wow, I've copped off with a public school boy), then he drawled, why yes, its true - they do have hair growing out of the backs of their hands. To which his chums responded with encouraging jeers at my expense.
Anyway, I'm a racist. I was taught that, decades ago, by the anti-racism trainers. I spent a long time trying to overcome my racism. Overcompensate, really, but that would probably be white patronage.
Nowadays, I'm proud of it. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you the Commonwealth disco story nor the Asian Prince story, for fear of being called a racist. The thing is, not only am I a racist, but everybody is. It's a Darwinian evolutionary characteristic, hardwired into we survivors of Sabre Toothed tigers and marauding bands of proto-humans. Be suspicious of strangers and look after your family and you'll get to raise your offspring to carry on the racist gene.
I'm also religiously intolerant. I'm intolerant of all religions, especially since I live in a country where the monarch and the prime minister flaunt the symbols and rituals of their minority, patriarchal religions.
I'm getting round to being proud of my religious intolerance. They can all line up for rubdowns with housebricks, the imams, the pastors, bishops, rabbis, pandits, bhikhunnis and the rest of the unholy rabble with their wars, wealth, misogyny and intolerance.
Japan, like most developed Western nations, has a demographic problem. Japanese women don't want to have babies, so the population is in decline. Western nations have dealt with this by encouraging inward migration from parts of the world where our shit jobs look fabulously well-paid. These migrants bring their ethnic diversity and peculiar religions with them. Japan has no truck with such a solution because they fear it would dilute the Japanese Culture. Well, of course it would. They have no fear of having a Japanese Culture. They are proud of it, treasure it as a precious and unique thing. The Japanese solution is to encourage and bribe Japanese Womanhood into having more babies. Within a stable marriage between a biological male and a biological female. To which purpose, a Government dating app is being developed, with Elon Musk's approval, with stringent requirements including a firm intent to marry and procreate. Users undergo a “values diagnostic test” to ascertain compatibility, with an option to specify desired traits in a partner.
Britain, it seems, does not admit to having a national culture. Nigel Farage, god bless him, has thoroughly criticised Rishi Sunak for leaving the D Day ceremonies early, allowing Baron Slab-Face to deputise for him, whilst running home to tape an interview with ITV - obviously important stuff that a Prime Minister has to prioritise over photo ops with European leaders.
He told Laura Kuenssberg this morning that “It shows the man doesn’t understand. He is not patriotic – he doesn’t care about our history, our culture.” He added that Sunak is disconnected from the lives and concerns of the British people by his class and privilege. Fair comment, you'd have thought.
Kuennsberg, who has been criticised by viewers for her political bias on previous occasions was all over this like a rash.
What do you mean, she snarled, what are you implying? I don't like you and your nasty made-up policies and your Brexit shite, bankrupting the country and your anti-immigration racism. Or, at least, she wanted to say that, but confined herself to enquiring what
he meant by “our culture”, he replied: “I know what your question is leading at. I’d just make the point that 40 per cent of our contribution in two wars came from the Commonwealth. Clearly Mr Sunak doesn’t understand that."
Thwarted, Laura Nose (clearly not a Faragista) then cross examined her other interviewees as to what Farage could possibly have meant.
She got Mel Stride to admit that he was "uncomfortable" with Nigel Farage's remark. He said that the comments were ill-advised and deeply regrettable: “I feel very uncomfortable with that... I’ve sat around a Cabinet table that’s the most diverse in history. I’m very proud of the fact that we have a British Asian who is right at the top of our government.”
You see what she did there? Turned a comment about British culture into a racist attack. I don't know what British culture means: used to be warm beer, cricket and old ladies riding bikes. To some, it is afternoon tea, to others, fish and chips. Maybe it is the WEA or the WRVS. Maybe it is Balti night, or dreadful TV reality shows. Maybe it is that thing I haven't got - religious tolerance. Or the last night of the Proms, with its outpouring of all that joyful patriotism. But it would be good to have a national culture, and be proud of it, and feel British. And not feel uncomfortable when the word culture is used. God'sake, Mel Stride, Tory MP for Central Devon, Secretary for Work and Pensions (for the time being), culture does not mean white supremacy.
When I was a bit older, my white guilt had me accepting the invitation of an Asian man, who I thought was a fellow student at my University, because I met him in the Student Union, to go back to his digs, which he purportedly shared with several other students, to partake of an authentic chicken curry. You already know that was a mistake. His digs turned out to be a nasty bed sit in a dilapidated Victorian terrace house of multiple occupation. There were no other students. He wasn't a student. The curry was real, though, and very good, although served in the pan in which it had been cooked and eaten with fingers and chapattis. The table was covered with newspaper, onto which the chicken bones were dropped, when sucked clean. I was told that I was lucky to be the object of the attentions of a Prince from Pakistan. I said I was a virgin. He said all you white girls say that. Bit of a cultural clash, really, although, again, my white guilt prevented me from giving offence, and, again, I ended up in tears, feeling abused.
Years later, when I was a Probation Officer, my employers required me to go on an anti-racism training course. I wasn't singled out for being politically incorrect. We all had to go. Here, I learned that I was racist. The two trainers were black women, and the first exercise, an ice-breaker, was that the participants had to call out names used to describe black people, which the trainers would solemnly write on a flip chart. Not unnaturally, we were extremely reluctant to do so. We were all white, professional and filled with good manners, white guilt and not wanting to give offence. However, the trainers goaded us until one participant cracked and offered up "negro". That was inscribed on the flip chart. After that, in turn, each participant had to volunteer a word. The chart was filled with very offensive words and phrases. At that, the trainer laid down her marker pen, turned to the group she was training, and said - "you see why I don't want to have children? How could I bring black children into this world where this is how people describe them?" Nasty trick, that. Day after day we were subjected to the same psychological manipulation. I learned that the definitions the nuns had taught me - that there are 5 racial groupings: caucasian, amerindian, negroid, mongaloid, australoid - were all racist bollocks. I learned that if a mum holding her baby in her arms in a lift shrinks away when a black person enters the lift, this micro-aggression will give the baby racism, like a virus. I learned that if a white person starts a statement by saying "I'm not a racist, but...." that's a sure-fire way of knowing a racist is talking to you. I learned that only white people can be racist: that discrimination may be universal, but only discrimination coupled with power equals racism. And only white people have power.
There was no nuance or subtlety. If a white person is in the room, that person has the power - even if the person is a young virginal female being required to dance with 20 black guys with erections. And white women's tears are always manipulative.
I heard more of this shite fairly recently, from an older woman who was committed to white guilt theory. She said that we are the privileged inheritors of colonialism. I'd had enough. No, not me, I said. I was looked at with curious fascination. Was I stupid? Didn't I understand the world and the role that white people have played in cornering resources and deliberately reducing to penury the non-white nations?
Not me.
Well, perhaps not, but your ancestors' actions have placed you in this privileged position.
No, they haven't. One ancestor was transported to Australia, requiring the rest of the family to move to Yorkshire in penury. I'm the inheritor of generations of northern working class poverty and discrimination. Dirt poor. First person in my family to go to University - where I was insulted by upperclass twats. One chap had the audacity to tell me to proffer my hand, upon which he gazed intently (me thinking, oh, wow, I've copped off with a public school boy), then he drawled, why yes, its true - they do have hair growing out of the backs of their hands. To which his chums responded with encouraging jeers at my expense.
Anyway, I'm a racist. I was taught that, decades ago, by the anti-racism trainers. I spent a long time trying to overcome my racism. Overcompensate, really, but that would probably be white patronage.
Nowadays, I'm proud of it. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you the Commonwealth disco story nor the Asian Prince story, for fear of being called a racist. The thing is, not only am I a racist, but everybody is. It's a Darwinian evolutionary characteristic, hardwired into we survivors of Sabre Toothed tigers and marauding bands of proto-humans. Be suspicious of strangers and look after your family and you'll get to raise your offspring to carry on the racist gene.
I'm also religiously intolerant. I'm intolerant of all religions, especially since I live in a country where the monarch and the prime minister flaunt the symbols and rituals of their minority, patriarchal religions.
I'm getting round to being proud of my religious intolerance. They can all line up for rubdowns with housebricks, the imams, the pastors, bishops, rabbis, pandits, bhikhunnis and the rest of the unholy rabble with their wars, wealth, misogyny and intolerance.
Japan, like most developed Western nations, has a demographic problem. Japanese women don't want to have babies, so the population is in decline. Western nations have dealt with this by encouraging inward migration from parts of the world where our shit jobs look fabulously well-paid. These migrants bring their ethnic diversity and peculiar religions with them. Japan has no truck with such a solution because they fear it would dilute the Japanese Culture. Well, of course it would. They have no fear of having a Japanese Culture. They are proud of it, treasure it as a precious and unique thing. The Japanese solution is to encourage and bribe Japanese Womanhood into having more babies. Within a stable marriage between a biological male and a biological female. To which purpose, a Government dating app is being developed, with Elon Musk's approval, with stringent requirements including a firm intent to marry and procreate. Users undergo a “values diagnostic test” to ascertain compatibility, with an option to specify desired traits in a partner.
Britain, it seems, does not admit to having a national culture. Nigel Farage, god bless him, has thoroughly criticised Rishi Sunak for leaving the D Day ceremonies early, allowing Baron Slab-Face to deputise for him, whilst running home to tape an interview with ITV - obviously important stuff that a Prime Minister has to prioritise over photo ops with European leaders.
He told Laura Kuenssberg this morning that “It shows the man doesn’t understand. He is not patriotic – he doesn’t care about our history, our culture.” He added that Sunak is disconnected from the lives and concerns of the British people by his class and privilege. Fair comment, you'd have thought.
Kuennsberg, who has been criticised by viewers for her political bias on previous occasions was all over this like a rash.
What do you mean, she snarled, what are you implying? I don't like you and your nasty made-up policies and your Brexit shite, bankrupting the country and your anti-immigration racism. Or, at least, she wanted to say that, but confined herself to enquiring what
he meant by “our culture”, he replied: “I know what your question is leading at. I’d just make the point that 40 per cent of our contribution in two wars came from the Commonwealth. Clearly Mr Sunak doesn’t understand that."
Thwarted, Laura Nose (clearly not a Faragista) then cross examined her other interviewees as to what Farage could possibly have meant.
She got Mel Stride to admit that he was "uncomfortable" with Nigel Farage's remark. He said that the comments were ill-advised and deeply regrettable: “I feel very uncomfortable with that... I’ve sat around a Cabinet table that’s the most diverse in history. I’m very proud of the fact that we have a British Asian who is right at the top of our government.”
You see what she did there? Turned a comment about British culture into a racist attack. I don't know what British culture means: used to be warm beer, cricket and old ladies riding bikes. To some, it is afternoon tea, to others, fish and chips. Maybe it is the WEA or the WRVS. Maybe it is Balti night, or dreadful TV reality shows. Maybe it is that thing I haven't got - religious tolerance. Or the last night of the Proms, with its outpouring of all that joyful patriotism. But it would be good to have a national culture, and be proud of it, and feel British. And not feel uncomfortable when the word culture is used. God'sake, Mel Stride, Tory MP for Central Devon, Secretary for Work and Pensions (for the time being), culture does not mean white supremacy.
Here's a line or two by mr ishmael on the glorious Nigel Farage:
Well, yes - applause, cheers - no, no need, I haven't said anything yet . Not - chuckle-chuckle - that I won't. You all know me by now - cheers applause, shouts of nigger-nigger-nigger, out-out-out - you all know me, I tell it like it is. Seig Heil.
There was an Englishman - cheers, applause - an Englishman - more cheers and more applause - and another Englishman, and they all went into this pub.
Those were the days, weren't they, when a group of Englishmen could go into a pub, if there was a pub left that the EU hadn't destroyed, sit down together, drink six or eight pints, splash piss down their trousers and not, definitely NOT wash their hands, as.....cheers... as....cheers... as, I might say, we are continually being told to by the health and safety police in Brussels - loud cheers, footstamping and whistling - in the good old days, back to which I will, if you'll allow me, lead you, do you know what, we could all sit, trousers damp with beery urine, hands unwashed, sharing the fellowship of a packet of cheese'n'onion crisps, pissed as fucking rats and enjoying a few Bee'n'Aitches without having to go outside and - eyes bulge, veins throb on forehead - catch fucking cold, yes, catch fucking cold, whilst enjoying a healthy, freedom of choice cigarette,
which, quite frankly, never did me any harm, apart from that it'll kill me, like it kills everybody. I mean, how dare they, the unelected EU, how dare they ban smoking in English pubs? Back in the good old days we could sit in our pub OUR pubs, mind and discuss the latest hanging - cheers, applause, whistling - and quite frankly which of us wouldn't like to see the return of hanging for, well let's just say for those who have overstayed their welcome. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with immigrants. But they need to be the right sort, they need to be OUR sort, not foreign immigrants. Wossat? Why were there no Englishwimmen in the pub story? Well, that's a good question and quite frankly, do you know what, I'm glad you asked it. There weren't any Englishwimmen in the pub because she was busy winning a parliamentary by-election for UKIP.
Well, if you want to split hairs like the old parties do, she may not have won in the narrow sense of winning but she certainly won a terrific victory in the sense of not winning. So there.
..................................................................................
If you would like to read some original ishmael or stanislav, then the four-volume Call Me Ishmael oeuvre, collected and curated by editor mr verge, is available on Lulu and Amazon.
Honest Not Invent, Vent Stack, Ishmael’s Blues, and the latest, Flush Test (with a nice picture of the late, much lamented, Mr Harris of Lanarkshire taking a piss on a totem pole) are available from Lulu and Amazon. If you buy from Amazon, it would be nice if you could give a review on their website.IIshmaelites wishing to buy a copy from lulu should follow these steps
please register an account first, at lulu.com. This is advisable because otherwise paypal seems to think it's ok to charge in dollars, and they then apply their own conversion rate, which might put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow one of the links below (to either paperback or hardback) or type "Ishmael’s Blues" into the Lulu Bookstore search box. Click on the “show explicit content” tab, give the age verification box a date of birth such as 1 January 1960, and proceed.
Link for Hardcover : https://tinyurl.com/je7nddfr
Link for Paperback : https://tinyurl.com/3jurrzux
https://www.lulu.com/shop/ishmael-smith/flush-test/paperback/product-9yjvn7.html?q=Flush+Test&page=1&pageSize=4
At checkout, try WELCOME15 in the coupon box, which (for the moment) takes 15% off the price before postage. If this code has expired by the time you reach this point, try a google search for "Lulu.com voucher code" and see what comes up.
With the 15% voucher, PB (including delivery to a UK address) should be £16.84; HB £27.04.
21 comments:
Surprised the Japanese gvt dating app bothers with a compatibility test because they all look the bleedin same (boom, boom...I'll get me coat, etc.)
Note to moderator bots : satire, innit?
v./
You will probably be sentenced to anti-racism training, mr verge. Best of luck with that.
Aah so, Japanese rady velly confuse wiv tawk of Engrish poritcar erection and Aflican erection, where to put X prease?
Anti-racism training all round.
one for mr mongoose : anti-racism training as incriminating art...I stir ranting maniac in an irritating scam...
I think there's a Grand Old Joke, mr cascadian, about Whisky Maggie and Denis on a diplomatic visit to China, which has a mandarin commiserating with the Thatchers about their only having been blessed twice in the sprog department. Something to do with only having erections every five years, I believe.
v./
Now that is a very pertinent anagram, mr verge.
Talking of irritating scams, I read in the New York Times that the Nigerian economy has tanked - so ishmaelians be alert to a fresh wave of Nigerians wanting to give you loads of money in exchange for sheltering their fortunes, just supply your banking details and an admin fee. What with Nigerian scamsters, lush Ukrainian lovelies looking for British men and Thai ladies murdering their British husbands, probably best to cultivate your inner racist.
And, while I'm on the subject of foreigners, Pope Fray Bentos has been at it again - he really doesn't like the faygeles.
Just observing the election campaign in the UK, it seems to me that all parties are doing their best to lose the election - it being a poisoned chalice.
I suspect seasoned honorable members are looking for a clean exit and burying all their dirty washing, maybe pickup a peerage on the way out.
Good ol' Farage fights on undimmed, but the arithmetic of the 2 party oligarchy works against him.
After so many decades of watching politics, mr mike, it is a mystifying spectacle. The Tories after a decade in joint power and power alone, win a majority of 80-odd and have a boundary change bonus of about 25 more seats to count on at the next General Election. A full decade more beckons if they are just competent. Across the Pond, Ornage Man Bad is a cert for re-election against Creepy Joe.
And then? Covid.
Neither Trump nor Johnson have a scientific bone in their bodies. Was it the international hit of all time? To destroy "populism" - ie the fucking plebs voting the wrong way - once and for all. At the same time the EU is falling into the abyss partly made bottomless by the events of 2008-09. Te net-zero bollocks is now understood to be undo-able without massive loss of human life and prosperity. In the UK, just stand up straight and hold the line. But, no, let's ave two coups d'etat instead and wreck the most successful political party in the history of the world.
ANd the answer is? Sir Kier Starmer! Man of the people. Fuck me, I have lived too long.
Where, oh fucking where, is a liberal/freedom/honour party that cares about people instead of power or money?
"Where, oh fucking where, is a liberal/freedom/honour party that cares about people instead of power or money?"
I believe he lives in Hungary, in the form of Mr Orban. Mr Fico in Czechia also talks a lot of sense. Strange forces have done their best to silence both.
Mr Ultrapox previously voiced the opinion that the security services might have derailed BoJo they certainly have done and continue to do a job on President Trump.
In good old canaduh, we have a current government (including probably the prime minister) that has provably been infiltrated by communist China, but the security services and our federal police are busy studying their navels.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nKj56ck_E8
Here in Blighty, mr cascadian, the Reform party just overtook the Conservatives a poll. It might become an extinction level event if they continue to steer towards the rocks instead of away. The Reform poll plus the Tory poll just about approximates to the Labour figure. Which thing means a hung parliament or a slight win for either side, and survival. The finacial situation of the entire West is, of course, dire. A period out of office would therefore be useful if things could be managed to be close enough to stymie constitutional fecking about.
But as you imply, we no longer know for whom all these people speak and work, to wom they answer. Dark days ahead, I fear.
Son Biden is now a toekn of ow honest the US legal system is! You could not nake it up.
I have avoided tv and radio reporting for most of the last decade Mr mongoose and it has served me well. What I have so far been unable to avoid is YouBoob pushing channels they believe I may be interested in, it is amazing how wrong they are, which leads me to believe certain channels pay handsomely to be pushed far-and-wide.
What I am leading up to, is this, my inquisitive streak has not served me well, I have had the misfortune to view BBC, Talkradio and Sky channels with their screeching harpies or poorly-dressed blokes with Yasser Arafat beards and enormous headphones (are there no air buds in yUK?) spouting absolute bilge.
Amongst the nonsense I have noticed a tendency amongst the intelligentsia to refer to the canaduh Reform party emergence in 1993, though it is obvious they have no idea how this came about. To spare mr ultrapox any canaduh history, I too will skip the reason except to say the electorate was royally pissed-off with the then ruling Conservatives and reduced the party from 169 to 2 seats. lieberals (our version of liebour) received approx 70 seats, reform 52 and bloc quebecois 54.(the last two parties are geographically based protest parties similar I would suggest to the red wall tories) Total number of seats in parliament at the time 301. So over half the seats were subject to a big FU vote.
1993 (October 25) - Turnout: 69.6 %
Liberal 177 295 41.3 % 60.0 %
Bloc Québécois 54 75 13.5 % 18.3 %
Reform 52 207 18.7 % 17.6 %
New Democratic Party 9 294 6.9 % 3.1 %
Progressive Conservative 2 295 16.0 % 0.7 %
Other 1 989 3.6 % 0.3 %
Total 295 2,155
Government--177, Opposition--118, Majority--59
1988 (November21) - Turnout: 75.3 %
Progressive Conservative 169 295 43.0 % 57.3 %
Liberal 83 294 31.9 % 28.1 %
New Democratic Party 43 295 20.4 % 14.6 %
Social Credit 9 0.03 % 0.0 %
Other 681 4.7 % 0.0 %
Total 295 1,574
Government--169, Opposition--126, Majority--43
I understand the normal problems of translating votes to seats in a first-past-the-post system but when a major FU vote occurs it is possible that seats will follow votes. Let us hope so.
Of course all this means that liebour will be able to do its destructive best-sigh.
The Biden crime cartel will prove as resistant to penalties as the Clinton and Obama crime cartels mr mongoose, there is no justice in the USA.
I have in my time, mr cascadian, voted for politicians by name. (Even once for an MP but, alas, that time I had been hoodwinked by Honest Nick, Man of the People, turned out to be Sir Nicholas Parasite, Baronet.) Necessarily, I think, for those of us who do not live the gilded lives of televisual pretending but have to stick it out down here in the trenches, this means looking for local good people. People one has met - or could meet. I have three levels at which I can vote: parliamentary, district (county level), and town. The Town Council ELections are around here almost the most important because this is Bandit Country - true blue Tory heartland, like almost all of rural England btw. Babies pop from the womb a bright blue colour. The only ones I can meet ar the lowest tier.
I get to vote for two on the Town elections. (Well, actually it is a prefernece thing up to the number of people standing but it is most effective to vote for only two r sometimes three. Candidate A is a local lady who I know. She used to be Labour but is now a Green but I don't care about that. All I know is that one day many years ago I dropped a couple of hundred quid cash in the street, and she found it, put a note in her window, and gave it back to me. So we ave found an honest one at least.
Candidate B also skids around the parties tactically but he knows one thing. This little town has 2-and-a-half times the number of people living in it than when I first came here 30 years ago. (Yes, the gf and I were two of the blasted incomers.) Yet, we have the same number of schools and doctor's surgeries. The same number of acres of land. The same number of shops. Except that now an ordinary person cannot work in a shop, earn thse wages and afford to live here. So the shops have become charity shops for retired folk to "volunteer" in and coffee bars in which my children earn pocket money. The town is being killed by its "success" in drawing people to rural olde Englande without looking after the rural bit, the olde bit, and the Englande bit. B therefore is trying to limit the growth of the town to match the growth of its facilities. At least he's trying and because he has been about so long, he knows how to use the machine against itself. B also keeps A's dafter green ideas in check but don't tell A!
I think there is a lesson here. I cannot do anything about Gaza, or the Ukraine, or the boats, or the deficit, or the Bloody Tories but I can do something about protecting the bit of the universe that I can see.
"I think there is a lesson here. I cannot do anything about Gaza, or the Ukraine, or the boats, or the deficit, or the Bloody Tories but I can do something about protecting the bit of the universe that I can see."
I see your point mr mongoose, and agree with at a superficial level, but by doing so you are ceding control of the major issues you outline to the likes of the camoron. BoJo, Sunak and tricky nicky, pissing away your money, and destroying your country.
Were I still able to vote in yUK, I would think it worthwhile to vote Reform for the pure delight of causing discomfort to these popinjays, even if ultimately it were a wasted vote.
As I tried to detail in my former post, a real shock and change CAN BE FORCED onto these imbeciles.
I agree with that too, mr cascadian, and I have voted for them all in my time. Alas, I am a liberal with a very small l - which means something else this side of the Pond - and there is nobody to vote for who is even remotely thinking like me. They all want rules and government, bans and fines and taxes. I want everybody to be free. I'd even let Barry Goldwater move in next door, and marry my daughter. (If she'd have him. And neither of them would.)
I used to say hereabouts that Brexit would kill the PM who delivered it. And it has already killed three and will kill a fourth in about three weeks. Perhaps I did not foresee that the global establishment would also move to kill the party from which these victims sprang. But it has rattled Europe, however imperfectly the matter was eventually implmented. They are frit, to use the words of one who used to know.
Maybe you are right. Let's bayonet the Tories and see what happens after. Starmer is a droid. He's no Bliar schemer. I will lok dwn at my ballot paper and decide. I think actually that November in the US is more important than July 4th in the UK.
Whilst I recognise Mr mongoose's cynicism regarding the futility of trying to have a say on the big issues, Mr cascadian is correct. If you give up, then increasingly the smaller issues join the big issues list until eventually you have no say on anything, and that is where we are heading.
Now "hate speech" is the catch all which sweeps up any smaller stuff they have forgotten about.
I am waiting for the lot of you to work out that personal and local honour is better than rules or not rules tsars.
I had posted earlier a link to a description of the left's century but it disappeared. Who would not vote for folk like that? What great men they were. Dragged from poverty by their own brains and toil - and respected for it by kings yet!
The problem we have now is three- or four-fold:
a) Politicians are PPE parasites who have "never worked a day upright".
b) The new people suck the world into their heads via tiktok and trivia. I would rather not let anyone under 30 vote than lower the voting age.
c) The long march has been stolen by the globalists and the socialists haven't twigged yet.
d) Money is fucked.
Truly, I live here in Bandit Country, and my kids live within an hour's drive, and it is like 1950 except - for the digital yatter. But only I am holding the line. The cities spread their shit electronically to thousands of faces at a time.
As an aside, what would happen to NY and its DA, London and its Khan, Washington and its Joe, Paris and its Macron... if the countryside grew no food for a season or two?
In many ways I agree Mr mongoose.
Before I de-camped to Australia, I lived in East Devon. It was a (very pleasant) step back in time. But that was nearly 30 years ago, so I can't say what rules now.
I'm getting on a bit now, and I'm increasingly of the view that I don't give a fuck the way its going because I will be dead sooner rather than later. I know its a selfish view and my kids will not enjoy the freedoms I did. But I'm not sure they know or care, which is another subject entirely.
mr mongoose
Extracted from Lefts Century "One hundred years on, all that remains of the Labour Party’s social purpose are occasional outbursts of rhetoric, dishonest and insincere, unlike that of MacDonald, Wheatley, Snowden, et al. The object is not to improve anybody’s life chances but to improve the life of chancers—British English for opportunists who are always looking for dubious schemes to advance their interests or feather their nests." which is hard to dispute.
So, liebour-new bunch of chancers, wasted vote. conmen-old bunch of chancers and liars, wasted vote. LimpDems, Greens-desperation vote. Reform-unproven, perhaps undisciplined, unlikely to achieve any real breakthrough, very chancy BUT every vote gives the likes of the camoron a swift kick in the groin, so entirely worthwhile.
We are all old enough gentlemen to realise that our previous voting has never achieved any higher motivation so why not have some fun?
"I think actually that November in the US is more important" certainly true in canaduh, but every stripe of politician is economically destructive.
Light entertainment, our Quebecois, female (two minority points) minister of foreign affairs(similar to your foreign secretary,camorons counterpart). Should you wonder why the interviewer does not press her for a sensible answer-our entire media are bought-and-paid-for by the government.
shttps://x.com/Concern70732755/status/1801718027391496497
and that is why I call the country canaduh.
Lets try again
https://x.com/i/status/1801718027391496497
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