Nazi Germany wasn't built in a day

I saw Nick Griffin, leader of the BNP on the telly this morning; his party has just gained two seats in the European Parliament (this alongside gains for the Tories and UKIP, which points to only one direction!). It was pointed out by the interviewer, who could barely conceal his contempt, that these gains were a long way from translating to gains in a General Election. Griffin shrugged this off by saying 'Rome wasn't built in a day'. I suddenly imagined a hilarious situation where either Griffin made a Freudian slip and said Nazi Germany wasn't built in a day, or the interviewer replied with 'neither was Nazi Germany'; either would please me.

What strikes me about this interview was the contempt shown for the BNP. Not that I don't think contempt should be levelled at them. I think they are narrow-minded, racist, contemptible thugs and it doesn't matter how many suits you buy for them, they still look like Jonny Adair awaiting trial. My problem is that the contempt for them is also born out of a feeling that they are only a marginal bunch of thugs, who we don't need to take seriously. It's this sort of complacency in politics that has allowed them to progress over the last few years.

Whilst our established parties have cracked open the Champers, continually patted themselves on the back for a job well done and put the rest down under expenses, parties like the BNP have picked up the votes of people who feel alienated from these self congratulatory parties. With the promise of action on populist policies they say the things that people want to hear.

This is why, as our government seemingly ignores the people and then disintegrates, parties like the BNP pick up the pieces. This has happened before. In Europe, the period after the First World War was dominated by weak democracies being overtaken by single-minded and populist dictatorships - Italy, Germany, Spain, Portugal, Greece all succumbed to dictatorship after their elected democracies floundered and failed.

Of course, the situation was different in 1918. Europe had been ravaged by the Great War. Many millions of men were killed, infrastructures destroyed and there was always the spectre of another war. Added to this was the emerging fear of communism, leading monarchs to endorse parties and personalities to the Right.

Circumstances today aren't nearly as extreme as they were at the beginning of the 20th Century. However, they are there as an example of what can happen when democracy is weak. Our democracy today isn't weak because of the global situation, it's weak because it is arrogant, aloof and unaccountable. When this is the case, people look to other sources to vent their frustrations and to look for guidance. The BNP offers a brash and unashamed voice to people who are angry and disenfranchised. They may be a long way off power, but Nazi Germany wasn't built in a day.

Thou Shalt Not Claim

Priest: Hello my child
man: Forgive me father for I have sinned
Priest: (rubbing his hands) go on...
man: I slept with a woman who wasn't my wife and then I paid her £200...
Priest: yes...
man: and sometimes I like to strangulate myself whilst wearing women's stockings...
Priest: continue...
man: and I bought a 40 inch plasma screen TV for my constituency home and I claimed it back through Members Allowances...
Priest: (exhales in shock) ok...anything else?
man: well...
Priest: be strong my son...
man: well... the £200 for a prostitute was also claimed back through members allowances, written off as 'nannying services' but to be fair I did wear a bib and dummy...
Priest: Ok, you need to say 10 Hail Mary's and 5 how's your father's and publicly confess your sins...

This conversation may have taken place but I doubt many politicians would have the conscience to do that. My favourite thing about the whole of the member's allowances scandal is the bizarre political capital they are all trying to get from it. To start with, let's state one fact:

THEY'RE ONLY SORRY BECAUSE THEY'VE BEEN FOUND OUT!

So many of them knew that they were manipulating a system to their own ends, fully understanding that the money was coming from tax payers. After the revelation, it is simply a case of saving face. The way the leaders have gone about it is hilarious. It is quite clear that they've sat down with their close advisors and thought how they can spin their way out of this one...and it is breathtaking what they've come up with:

"let's confess all our sins in one big rush, naming and shaming our worst offenders and then we can say how sorry we are about it all and what steps we will take to ensure that it doesn't happen again. The key point is, our way of doing this must seem to be more stringent than the other parties." I imagine this idea would be followed up my having members stand in elections with their expense receipts as their manisfesto.

The perceived result is that we look and them and think:

'wow, they are being so honest. I can't believe that they are actually naming people, real people with heads and legs, and saying what these real people scrounged off the state - but their so, so sorry about it. My perception of these people, nay this political party, has changed. I think I'll vote for them.'

The actual result is that we look on shaking our heads, galled that they think we'll swallow this big turd. Amazingly they think it's all about sums of money and items but it's much more than that, it's about what politicians consider reasonable and ultimately our trust in them.

What, I imagine, most people are shocked by is how out of touch many politicians seem. Would you willingly put the future of the country in the hands of a man who considers it a reasonable (taxpayer funded) expense to have his pool or moat (fucking hell!!!) cleaned. Usually, people with moats, have moats to keep people who can't swim moats out - not really people persons. I expect we'll see a sudden surge of politicians who have not abused the system being promoted to key positions soon, which I suppose isn't a bad thing.

Every Sperm is Sacred

The Holiest of the Holies, Pope Benedict XVI, or Joseph Ratzinger, or Joe as I prefer to call him has been edict-ing again today in his papal infallible way.

Apparently, and he must be right, what with him being infallible and all, apparently condoms are bad for you and can exacerbate the likelihood of contracting HIV/AIDS. Chutzpah eh! Well, what he said technically was that throwing money and condoms at the problem was not the answer. The only answer was to take the church's traditional stance of abstention from sexual intercourse. Of course, what better way to kill off AIDS than to stop shagging. It's the perfect solution. I'd like to hear his solution for the problem of global poverty - probably something along the lines of stop being poor and become better off. Or he could solve the Islamic terrorism problem by stating "stop being Muslims and be Catholics". Simple solutions for a simple world from a simple man. In theory obviously abstinence would work but let's not forget the old saying "Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder". If people really abstained for any length of time, you can guarantee that they would be rutting before the week was out, on a never before seen level. Abstinence as a solution could only come from a guy who killed his sexual urges or had them killed before he was out of lederhosen (by which time he was already in the seminary, where the only sex is... well let's not go into that).

What his papal plan overlooks, other than the glaringly obscene suggestion that condoms increase the likelihood of causing AIDS infection, is the fact that you cannot impose cultural ideals on other cultures. It's a bit like Robbie Williams being inexplicably successful in the UK but seen as god-awful in the USA. What works for one culture, cannot be guaranteed to work for another; especially when the culture that brought about this particular plan was an austere, medieval European society, based in piety. It's a miracle that such an anachronistic teaching could survive in any form in Europe today. It's another thing altogether to expect that such a teaching could be accepted amongst a completely different culture.

If Joe's idea of abstention is successful in any way, it is only through people's greater fear of eternal damnation than of AIDS.

If it isn't and people go ahead and do what comes naturally to them (and let's face it, if we were created, we were created with sexual desires, so what God could justifiably expect us to suppress them), I just hope they also ignore the Catholic Church's stance on contraception. Some countries in Africa have HIV/AIDS rates of around 25%, which should make you gasp in horror. With rates as high as that, African people can't afford to listen to the Papal Bullshit that emanates from his holiness and it is immoral that people should be bullied and compromised by religion when their lives are at stake.

God, I hate the irrelevant old fucker!*



(* that wasn't addressed at God, because he doesn't exist, it was just a figure of speech)

Is your Homeland Secure?

It was reported today that the Liberal Democrats had made a Freedom of Information request regarding the use of RIPA (Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act) by local councils in the last five years. RIPA gives local authorities the power to use surveillance to investigate serious crimes. The list of crimes that have been investigated is startling and the underlying theme leads us to some worrying conclusions.

RIPA powers have been used to surveil members of the public for such things as dog fouling (them shitting, not us jumping in two footed on them), littering, vandalism and investigating the residence of parents who claim residency in one area to get in a school's catchment area.

The use of such powers should only be for the most serious of crimes and all these crimes seem petty. So, what does this tell us about the usage of RIPA by local authorities.

We could surmise that they are abusing the purpose of these powers and using them to snoop on people. This could be seen as an erosion of civil liberties and a grim sign that we are marching inexorably towards a surveillance state of '1984' proportions.

Or perhaps there is something else, that is less obvious. Perhaps there is a deeper reason for this ostensible abuse of serious legislation. In other words, perhaps the target of this surveillance is as serious as the use of RIPA requires. We don't know everything; maybe we should give the authorities the benefit of the doubt. What better way for those who hate our freedoms and our way of life to destroy them than to attack our infrastructure. We know they take on big targets e.g. 9/11, Bali, but what about the unseen? We need to open our minds a bit here. It isn't always possible to blow up buildings and slaughter innocent people in a town square. It's high profile and attracts a lot of attention; nibbling away at our infrastructure is a subtle way of destroying our way of life. We see dog fouling and fly tipping - RIPA could be investigating the pollution and degradation of our parks and public spaces. We see a tramp has pissed in a lift or phone box - could this not be an attack on communications and transport? We see that stuck-up parents don't want their precious children to go to the local comprehensive so they fake their address to get them into the school of choice - the authorities probably see the same and just want to catch the conceited bastards at it.

These are things you probably haven't thought of but it's food for thought. Next time you walk past a melted bin in the town centre, think who benefits the most from this 'random act' of vandalism. Perhaps then you might look at the camera pointed at that bin and feel comforted, rather than the cold fear that 'Miniluv' is just round the corner.

The Feminine Mystique

I wonder, as Emily Wilding Davison ducked under the railing and prepared herself, whether she could imagine how successful the struggle for equal rights for women would become. As Betty Friedan sat down to write the Feminine Mystique, could she imagine a world with female world leaders let alone redefined gender roles. Indeed, how far we've come. There is no better example of how far we've come than the advertising world.

In adverts, the woman is usually seen as independent, important, business-like. She is a working mother, juggling the duties of a mother and a CEO. Man is her equal, not her better half. There is even a cheeky hint of superiority with slogans such as "so simple, a man could do it"(evidently, this advert wsn't for female razors, which look like they've been designed by the Early Learning Centre)

And what about the products that this successful, business-like, power-sharing woman is targeted with. Well, lets construct a model of the average woman and her day, as seen through the eyes of advertisers.

On awaking, (no doubt at 4:30am, to feed the twins, fill up the road tank and wake up her lazy good for nothing husband) she applies seven different skin creams and oils that will give her a healthy flawless complexion (that is, unless her face doesn't sag like a balloon filled with water due to all the moisture in it). For breakfast (no doubt a power breakfast, just berfore a board meeting) she wants to eat a bowl of low fat cereal. Low fat, so that she still looks good (presumably in a bright red business suit). Whilst at work, in between selling stocks, shares etc she needs to find time to take a break... to have a low fat, low sugar, piss poor fizzy drink and ogle a builder. With so little time for lunch, this highflying, fast living exec/mother will need something light and quick - no doubt a low fat cheese spread on crispbread will do the trick. Home time, and it's time to unwind. Curl up on the sofa with a low fat, low sugar hot chocolate drink. But it's been a busy day and she's worked hard, so she deserves a devilish treat - a big chocolate bar and where better to eat it than in the bath with a luxurious scrub. Finally, shattered from a busy day of hedgefunding, dogwalking and child and husband raising, she will turn in - but not before removing all the badness of the day with one pad and applying goodness for the nighttime with another.

Indeed, how far we've come. No longer slave to the kitchen, free to make decisions for herself, judged solely on the content of her character, not the colour or texture of her skin. I'm sure as Miss Davison saw the hoof falling, she smiled as she imagined future generations enjoying the freedom, to apply a fake tan, that she fought and died for.

Quickie

Just a quickie, to keep things ticking over. Following on from my previous post, I thought I'd have a go at another song title:

Bon Jovi wrote a song called Bad Medicine.

The chorus claims:

"your love is like bad medicine,
bad medicine is what I need."

To claim that someone's love is like bad medicine is probably not a good thing, but to claim that it is what they need is ill advised. I can't think of many bad medicines, but they probably don't work and at worst put the recipient at risk e.g. EST or Thallidamide. If you were to substitute the words "bad medicine" with "thallidimide", would you sing along? Would you encourage the song writer to pursue this relationship? I don't think you'd be a friend if you did. Is the fact that we don't see much of Jon Bon Jovi nowadays a result of him following this course of action? It acts as a cautionary tale for all of us.

Anyone got any other song titles they want to tear apart. Share them with me!

The Burning Question

Every now and then a question arises that sears itself into our consciousness; a question so potent and existential in substance that we are forced to stop and think. Typical questions in this field are: What is the meaning of life? Is there life beyond our planet? Does God exist, and if he does, why is he such a twat?
Such questions can consume the average thinker. Well, another one has been raised, that for so long has been overlooked:

"Are we human or are dancers?"

Many will never have considered this question as an issue. I have always had a nagging feeling that there might be a problem here. I could never crystallise the question as succinctly as this but I always questioned the simplicity of the belief that we are "human". Now, quite brilliantly, the Killer's, a pop group with a number of records in the Hit parade, have piqued our curiosity.

Looking at the question, it begs a whole raft of other questions. Does it allow for some of us to be "humans" and some of us to be "dancers"? Minor celebrity Lionel Blair is quite insistent that he is a dancer, as is Wayne Sleep and Bez. If they are insistent that they are dancers, and were able to present proof that they were dancers, does this mean that we are all dancers - with latent ability to dance? It is an interesting question.
Perhaps more intriguing than this is the mind boggling possibility that this is a visible step in human evolution. A question that is quite often levelled at evolutionists is "why aren't we still evolving"? Despite the more subtle ways that the human body evolves and adapts, an evolutionary step of becoming a dancer would certainly be a landmark step in human evolution. From here the logical next question would be - "Would our evolution as dancers be similar or would we be subject to the same bio-diversity as the finches on the separate Galapagos islands?" Better put, would "dancers" develop differently in different societies e.g. British "dancers" would become adept Morris Dancers, whilst Austrians' became Waltzers? If this is the case, what would happen when "dancers" from different societies clashed? Could we expect to see conflict or coexistence and would we have the inevitability of weaker "dance" groups e.g. voguing, being condemned to extinction by more dominant forms e.g. The foxtrot?
"Human" history doesn't bode well for such a clash of cultures. Perhaps we should disregard this precedent as we cha cha cha into an unknown future.
I applaud the Killers for bringing such a "killer" question to the world's attention, but I feel they may have unleashed a philosophical power they can't control.

National Rail Strategy - Leaked Report

Ever wanted to know what the rail companies really think of you. Below is an extract from a briefing for TransWorld Advanced Transport, a British rail company. Don't ask how I got it, let's just say it fell into my lap:


National Rail Strategy: The Future of Rail Travel in Britain:

"This briefing note is aimed as an overview of a more extensive examination of the rail strategy for TransWorld Advanced Travel (hereafter TWAT). This document is aimed as a help guide for TWAT employees and covers some key areas of concern that require clarification:

First Class

First Class is generally classed as any available seat and is usually located at the rear of the train. TWAT employees often ask when is it possible to de-classify First Class. There are two situations that can warrant this extreme measure:

• The instance of a pregnant woman having to stand. This still requires the passenger to produce evidence that she is pregnant, namely a letter from a doctor, broken waters or (preferably) a child.
• Someone with enough clowt to sue us is left without a seat. Remove the pregnant woman if necessary.

Passengers without tickets

We need to keep this malignant cancer in check. To do this, we have introduced the 'full fare' policy. If a passenger has entered the train and doesn't have a ticket for the journey between Leeds and Huddersfield for instance, our policy will be to charge the full fare for a journey between Lands End and John O Groats,... in First Class.

Overcrowding

A major concern for workers is the problem with overcrowding. We encourage all employees who have concerns to put them in writing, supplying their payroll number, National Insurance number, address and complete list of their loved ones. Overcrowding is an issue that is being addressed and we ensure all employees that we are doing everything we can to get as many people on to the smallest train possible. We do get a small amount of complaints about overcrowding but we are at pains to point out that when our trains eventually crash, survival rates could be high (would you rather rattle around in an empty carriage or be held fast, like a sardine in a tin). The layout of carriages is being addressed and the new seating plan can be seen exclusively, here.

We thank TWAT employees for all their efforts in realising our vision, we wouldn't be able to make our bonuses happen without them."

The Boy Done Good

I am reading a good book at the moment:

The Boy Done Good: Darren Mooney the First Twenty Years published by Hard Press-ed.

It's the rags to riches story of a 20yr old Premiership footballer. It's generally better than other's in it's field because it isn't ghost-written. Below is a random excerpt from the chapter 'Giving Something Back':

"17th July 2008

It was my birthday and I woke up at the usual time of 10:30am, as excited as a kid on Christmas day. Kelly had been acting well suspiciously over the last few days. She had been really secretive and kept going out of the room to make phone calls. I knew she was up to something. So here I was on my birthday morning, and she was no where in sight!

I went down stairs and had some cereal and I checked my emails. An hour must have passed and there was no sign of Kelly anywhere. I tried ringing her mobile but it was switched off. I thought "What's going on?" Then I tried to ring her mum and her's was engaged as well. Because there was nothing that I could do, I went for a swim and a bit of a work out. The gaffer had given me the day off training because of my birthday but I still like to keep fit.

Finally, in the afternoon I got a call from Kerry. I said "Where've you been, I've been trying to ring you? It's been doing me head in." Kerry just told me to come to the Devonshire, but not the front bit, that's the pub, but the back bit which is the reception suite. "Ah, man" I thought, I was well excited. I quickly got showered and changed. I decided to put my best rolex on, with the diamonds and put on my new Armani suit that I got for the club dinner. As it was my birthday I decided I'd take the Ferrari out for a spin. It's great, goes really fast and what's best is that there's a Satnav that tells me where the speed cameras are. I got there in about 5 minutes!!!

When I went in the lights were off, in the room. Suddenly, there was a big flash and a big noise and all the lights went on. Kerry, her mum, the gaffer and all the lads were there shouting surprise. "woa, mental!" I said. If that was a surprise, you should of seen my face when they brought my present out... it was another Ferrari. What a big shock! I knew Kerry was up to something because she kept asking me what my favourite car was.

It was the best birthday ever. It made me feel really good.

A Child of God

I was born a Christian Fundamentalist, not disimilar to the ones you see outside abortion clinics in America. From the moment that I gasped my first breath, blinded by the flourescent tubes of the delivery room, I was a Christian; my eyes were open, I had seen the light. The first voice that spoke to me was Jesus. He told me what my life meant and what my purpose was: To speak the message and promote the greater glory of his father, Jehovah.

As a 5 minute old baby, the task could seem daunting but my fresh perspective on life was what he was looking for. I know...because he told me. Even as the umbilical was being cut, my beliefs were being formulated and organised in my head. As I lay at my mother's breast feeding, I was distracted, I didn't need this triviality, I had God's work to do. What was my message going to be, what should I prioritise? I was keen to get started.

Admittedly, my early ministry was modest, at best. It is quite difficult for a cooing infant to convey the evil that is intrinsic in a blood transfusion, especially when there is a dummy in your mouth. I understood how Jesus must have felt as an infant in the temple. At a gathering of mothers and my peers, I tried to warn, as Jesus did on the Mount of Olives, of the presence of false prophets but was constantly frustrated by interruption. I was reduced to a tactic used by many evangelists - creating a spectacle. Trapped in my own mind, without the power of speech, reason or toileting, I resorted to making a scene. Style over substance I know, but until I was able to articulate to my disciples, defecating and screaming would have to suffice.

An inauspicious start but until my speech and language skills developed, this would have to be my message...

(to be continued)

The Origins of the Itch (or How I came to suffer the Itch)

To quote:

Mrs. Fussey: Joan may think you're a gentleman but personally I've got sore misgivings.
Sid Boggle: You ought to put some talcum powder on them.

This is perhaps my favourite Carry On line after the immortal "Infamy, Infamy, they've all got it in for me" and I thought it a neat way to start my first post in my first ever blog. Who knows, it may be the last ever post in my last ever blog. Let's just see how things pan out.

I thought the quote apt (and I wanted to crowbar a Carry On quote into my first post). I don't have anything physically sore that I wish to confess and if I did I wouldn't do it on the Web. What ails me is a kind of psychic itch, that I can't seem to scratch, or if I can, it's not going away. It's like an itch on the arch of your foot when you're wearing a pair of walking boots. You can't do anything about it. You try to press into the sole of your shoe but it won't go away. Or you try to magically fold your foot up, as if you could scratch it with your toe. Unfortunately, our evolution has passed that very useful itch scratching stage.

So, what is this 'psychic itch'? Well, it's certainly not one thing!

I'm one of those people who has opinions and suffers impotently when my opinion is ignored or not heard. I have really good ideas that come to nothing. I'm well meaning but a little lethargic. I think I could write but I suffer from a fear of rejection if I actually tried to publish something. Therefore, I quite often have a good idea and don't do anything about it.

I watch the world, aghast at what happens. How can countries declare war without diplomacy first? How can so many have nothing when a few have more than enough for everyone? How can people channel all their energies into blind faith, rather than into working with each other?

I could go on, but I won't. I guess the problem could be summed up as a general irritation I have with things. Don't get me wrong, I have a very happy home life with my wonderful wife Tanya and the fabulous cat Ori (or Bongo for short). What I'm talking about is a bit more abstract. It could be untapped potential, it could be an unvented spleen or it could be a niggling issue that I haven't got to grips with; it's probably all three.

So that's what The Itch will be. The subject may vary from a constructive reflection on something in the news, an angry diatribe, confession, the odd stream of consciousness, my own musings on popular or even high culture (more likely the former), not to mention my own hopes / dreams / aspirations / fear / neuroses / loves / hates. I hope it remains entertaining, topical and controversial where necessary. I'm sure you will vote with your feet if it isn't.

How often I post will depend on whether I can be arsed or how passionate I'm feeling about something. I'm looking forward to it. Perhaps it will be the talcum powder I need for the 'psychic itch'.

p.s.: Being the lazy 2:2 attaining History graduate that I am, I didn't bother checking to see if the phrase 'psychic itch' has been used previously. I'm sure the term has been used and probably for something altogether more profound than my little malaise! If you've heard of it before let me know. If you google it, let me know.