Friday, July 31, 2009

Silly Week Shaggy Dog Story

An over friendly golden retriever... Raping a woman

Atlas Bugged

From our guest blogger Juliette.

Following my recent musings on whether or not to read Ayn Rand, I couldn't find The Fountainhead - and thought I'd go straight for the motherlode. So I've started reading Atlas Shrugged with some curiosity.

First, the good. Ayn Rand's prose style is way, way better than I was expecting. In fact, I'd say that she is, technically, an extremely good writer.

But I have to say, sixty pages in, it's still not gripping or inspiring me.

This is probably because I want to attack her cast of smug, annoying assholes with a length of two by four.

I have never in my life read a book packed to capacity with so many toxically self-satisfied, unbelievably unlikeable pricks. So far, I particularly hate the so-called heroine, Dagny Taggart
(all Ayn Rand's characters have names like movie stars in Jackie Collins bonkbusters. Don't even get me started on Midas Mulligan.)

Dagny Taggart - who, like the heroine of Cassandra's Conflict, really isn't classically beautiful at all - is a world-class pain in the rectum. She's always doing things like gazing out of her office window at the ant like hordes far below. And constantly thinking how superior she is to the little people around her, with their petty lives. And how she has no interest in anything in life apart from her family business and, as a child, mathematics (which must make her fun to sit next to at dinner parties.) And how her unique energy, vision and talent have seen her rise - with incredible speed and ease - to become Head of Operations at Taggart Trains.

You can't help thinking that this extraordinarily rapid rise through the ranks may have something to do with the fact that HER FATHER OWNED THE FRIGGING COMPANY.

But this is clearly something which has never occurred to her.

Likewise, I dare say Kim Jong Il frequently pats himself on the back for his astounding achievements in life.

'Just think. Twenty years ago, I was the obscure eldest son of the Dear Leader. Now, through pure talent and hard work, I've managed to become the Dear Leader myself. Kiss my ass, little people. Rock and roll.'

I haven't got to the Big Message Bit yet. But - having read a few reviews, and knowing the basic storyline - I can see it approaching me like an oncoming train with every passing sentence.

People who make a lot of money do so because they have vision, genius and unlimited creative energy - and we ordinary, little people should be grateful to have such godlike entities in our midst.

This was clearly written by a woman who had never heard of Jeffrey Archer, Sir Fred Goodwin or Katie Price.

If they were to fuck off to some deserted island (oh, if only), I sincerely doubt that the world would grind to a halt.

Although of course, I might be wrong.

I can see it now. London has become a burning, dystopian wilderness. Weeping commoners lurch through the crumbling streets like haggard ghosts, tearing at their hair as they survey the nightmarish desolation before them. Desperate cries ring out through the rubble, rising through the smoke towards an unseen and indifferent god...

'Have mercy! Who will steal our profits now!'

'Come back! We can't live without your awful ghost-written books about ponies!'

Meanwhile, on an idyllic deserted island, Fred, Jeffrey and Katie are having a gang bang (apologies for the haunting image). Musing on how much better life is, now they're no longer surrounded by the intellectual midgets, petty detractors and small-minded fools who have held back their titanic genius in the regular world - which rewards banality, dishonesty and mediocrity, and fears and punishes true visionary greatness such as they possess.

Before, hopefully, they're all eaten by a passing shark.

It takes quite something to make me feel like a commie.

But - by popular consensus - Ayn Rand really was quite something.

Posted by Juliette who is being brave and reading Atlas Shrugged

Editorial footnote

Its an allegory.

Blue Plaque award

Silly week blue plaque

Thursday, July 30, 2009


For those who dont read Private Eye:

An Experienced London Based Childminder writes:

I have been denied the right to work with children because I refuse to be vetted by the new Independent Safeguarding authority.

Ms Mary Poppins, 43 had been offered a post to Mr Banks an unemployed investment banker, who has been laid off as part of the credit crunch to look after his two children, Child J and Child M.

When told that she would not be allowed access unless she agread to be checked out as a possible paedophile she said," This is completely ridiculous and insulting."

The Home Office however, insisted that its new measures were "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" and were designed to end the atrociousness of child abuse throughout the nursery world.

When told this, Ms Poppins opened her umbrella and flew away.

This appears in Private Eye July 24- August 6th edition and is not completely verbatim plagiarised and is copyright to Private Eye where the orginal article existeth.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Downfall of Nick Griffin

Darth Vader

Silly Week

Jeremy Clarkson

Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein EU , Ein EU Presidente

One people, one state, one Europe. And you're paying to push it.

I give you just one example of the hundreds of millions of euros of taxpayers' money spent every year on pro-EU propaganda. This fellow on the left is Captain Euro ('born Adam Andros, the only son of a famous European Ambassador'), meant to be a superhero. He was invented by a firm of 'corporate vision strategists' on the orders of the European Commission. He stars in animated films paid for by taxpayers' money and which are broadcast through the internet and television. The official line is, 'Captain Euro is the symbol of European unity and values.'
The villain opposing him is, naturally, the evil Dr D. Vider -- get it, Divider? Dr Vider is described as 'a ruthless speculator' which in Brussels code means anybody who supports the kind of free market economics the British do best and the French hate.
Captain Euro is tripe. But the propaganda drive he represents is no joke. A report just out today from the Swedish thinktank Timbro gives 25 pages of details on how the European institutions spend hundreds of millions of euros each year on what they call 'communication,' but anyone else would recognise as pro-EU, anti-national propaganda. None of it is information, all of it is taxpayer-funded marketing and advocacy for 'an ever closer union.'

And on and on the list goes. You can find the details at All of the millions are taken from taxpayers, and all of it with a single aim: one people, one state.
Which is an aim with a very European pedigree in propaganda, though we are used to hearing it in the original German.

The above appears in the Mail.

I love Europe I love the idea of the common market, the ability to hop to france easily but I cannot stand the empire building.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Famous Quotes (9)

A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murder is less to fear."

Marcus Tullius Cicero - (106-43 BC) Roman Statesman, Philosopher and Orator.

Paranoid? Moi?

Media Buzzwords to Silence the Politically-Incorrect

By Dr. Alan Cantwell

Immediately after the bombing of the Federal Building in Oklahoma City in 1995 there was a media blitz blaming paranoid people and anti-government militia groups for the violent deaths. Now with the 9/11 bombings the media reports a “conspiracy lobby” whose basic premise is that President Bush/the CIA/Big Oil either planned the attacks or let them happen to secure the US oil pipeline/ take over the Middle East/ launch a one-world government.

In a Los Angeles Times op-ed piece (24 March, 2002), Gale Holland claims the so-called conspiracy lobby is a tiny but persistent subgroup spawned by the John F. Kennedy assassination and nurtured through the CIA/assassination-plot scandals of the following decades. To emphasise the silliness of conspiracy theory a large photo of Bin Laden is placed next to Elvis Presley, and captioned “Like Elvis Presley, Osama Bin Laden keeps popping up all over, especially in Utah, where he is often seen devouring a Big Mac.”

Predictably, Holland uses the paranoia buzzword in his final paragraph: “Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction, but sometimes fiction is just fiction. Getting at the truth is tough, accepting it can be harder still. Paranoia is a lot easier. Sept. 11 may have robbed us of our sense of normalcy, but we can’t let it upset out reason.”

What is obvious is that the major media quickly accept the politically-correct version of an “official story” of an event, as provided by official government sources, and dump all politically-incorrect versions of the story into the conspiracy theory trash bin. Waging war on “evil-doers” everywhere is accepted; believing in conspiracy theories is unpatriotic and borders on treason. We demand documentation as proof of conspiracies, while incriminating documents are shredded by a team of well-paid lawyers, accountants, and executives, as in the case of the Enron and Arthur Andersen scandals.

Any researcher who has dug hard to find “the truth” knows that it is rarely found in the media. After all, the speciality of the major media is to provide new stories, not to solve the ills of society, nor to bore people with “old news.” Reporters pride themselves in unbiased reporting, by not taking sides or injecting personal opinion in their stories. Few news writers have the courage or ability tend to investigate potentially-explosive conspiracy theories that might embarrass the government, or their advertisers or editors – or even their readers.

Despite these shortcomings, the media seem to take pride in dismissing people as “paranoid” who believe in conspiracy theories of any kind.

According to Webster’s Dictionary, paranoia is a serious psychiatric diagnosis: a psychosis characterised by systematised delusions or persecution or grandeur usually without hallucinations. Paranoia can also be defined as a tendency on the part of an individual or group toward excessive and irrational suspiciousness and distrustfulness of others. People who exhibit such psychiatric traits are paranoid.

A definite diagnosis of paranoia requires the expertise of a psychiatric health professional. A diagnosis is made after a careful history and physical examination of the patient, and must include a detailed drug history and psychiatric observation.

All this is ignored by journalists who indiscriminately label people as paranoid. Their purpose is to discredit a person’s mind and reasoning ability. Unfairly labelling people as paranoid is malicious and evil; and the word can be as hateful as words like nigger, kike, and faggot. When terms like paranoia and paranoid are tossed around in the media, rational communication is no longer possible.

A paranoid person is not normal because paranoia indicates a diseased mind.

In their quest for power, politicians often portray their perceived enemies as diseased. Hitler was a master of this. After securing the cooperation of the German physicians, he rid the Third Reich of thousands of mental and physical defectives by murdering them. When this was accomplished, he turned on the Jews. He labelled the Jews as a cancer that needed to be cut out of a diseased Germany. Thus, the roots of the Holocaust were planted.

Labelling people as diseased is an effective way of discrediting and silencing them.

The media overkill of paranoia is evident in Michael Kelly’s “The Road to Paranoia,” a 13-page essay which appeared in The New Yorker, 19 June, 1995, shortly after the Oklahoma City bombing. According to Kelly, “There have always been radical fringes on both the left and the right which believe that the government conspires against the people. But lately, the two have formed a strange alliance – fusion paranoia – that is reaching millions of disaffected Americans.” He reviews the major conspiracy theories, and interviews conspiracist Bob Fletcher, a member of a political organisation called the Militia of Montana. Not surprisingly, Kelly makes Fletcher look like a friendly loony-bird.

As I read “The Road to Paranoia” I suddenly realised I was part of Kelly’s story. For almost a decade I had been promoting the idea that AIDS had originated as a genetically-engineered virus that was deliberately seeded into the Black African population and into the American gay male community via government-sponsored vaccine programs and experiments conducted in the late 1970s. (For a wealth of information on the man-made origin of AIDS, go to and type in “AIDS biological warfare”. Also see,

My publishing house, Aries Rising Press, had published two books on the subject of AIDS as a man-made epidemic, which were well-received and reviewed in the alternative press and totally ignored in the mainstream media. In 1989 my book, AIDS & The Doctors of Death, was offered for sale by an independent bookseller at the International AIDS Conference in Montreal. The presence of the book so infuriated officials of the World Health Organisation that they demanded the book be removed from the shelves and banned from the conference.

Despite all this I had not expected to find Aries Rising Press included in Kelly’s list of several dozen “rapidly growing alternative media that traffic in conspiracism.” Even the word “traffic” suggested that my Press was somehow involved in illegal activity, rather that bona-fide and well-documented research on the origin of HIV.

Kelly did mention the conspiratorial belief that “AIDS is a government plot to kill off blacks and homosexuals,” but no further details were provided. Also mentioned was a 1990 poll of African-Americans concluding that “a third believe that HIV was produced by scientists and disseminated through black neighbourhoods for the purpose of genocide.”

During the past two decades of media reports on the various theories of AIDS origin, the theory that the disease might be man-made is occasionally mentioned. However, the scientific evidence supporting this theory is never mentioned, and the idea is usually dismissed as misguided and paranoid.

Initially, the media heralded the green monkey theory of AIDS, first proposed by Robert Gallo, the so-called discoverer of the AIDS virus. In a just-published book entitled Science Fictions: A Scientific Mystery, a Massive Cover-up, and the Dark Legacy of Robert Gallo, Chicago Tribune reporter John Crewdson totally discredits Gallo’s discovery of HIV and claims the scientist actually pilfered the virus from French scientists at the Pasteur Institute. Crewdson, who first exposed the scientific irregularities of Gallo’s AIDS research in 1989, claims the resulting lawsuits were finally settled in 1993 and only through the intervention of high-ranking French and US government officials.

In addition, Gallo’s monkey theory has been replaced by the chimpanzee theory. Currently, the new government-approved “official story” of the origin of AIDS is that HIV began in the African rainforest when a chimp virus “jumped species”, most probably when a hunter cut his finger while butchering a chimp. How a Black heterosexual epidemic in Africa could have transformed itself into a disease exclusively found in white homosexual men in New York City in the late 1970s has never been convincingly explained.

Ex-New York City Health Commissioner Stephen Joseph, in his AIDS book, Dragon Within the Gates, also dismisses without explanation “the paranoid theories about AIDS being a deliberate invention of biological warfare.” However, he does note “the scars left by the Tuskegee experiment” in the Black community.

In this notorious government-sponsored syphilis experiment, public health doctors deliberately lied to black sharecroppers in Alabama for over 40 years. The men were never told they were infected with syphilis, and when a penicillin cure became available in the 1940s the doctors withheld treatment so that they could study the devastating effect of untreated syphilis. When the men died, the doctors rushed to get an autopsy, coaxing the family into giving permission by having the government pick up the tab for the funeral expenses. Under pressure from civil rights activists, this racist experiment was finally terminated in 1972.

Joseph writes that the memory of Tuskegee “fueled a conspiratorial theory that AIDS resulted from a biological experiment, gone awry, performed on Africans by the United States government.”

But conspiracy theorists know that government doctors and scientists, and the military, have conducted covert experiments on unsuspecting civilians for decades. Recently the nation was shocked to learn that physicians had performed dangerous radiation experiments on unsuspecting hospitalised patients from the 1940s up until the 1980s. After a half century of government cover-up, the proof was finally revealed when previously classified government documents were released by the Department of Energy. (For details, type in “Human Radiation Experiments” at Also see Pulitzer Prize-winning Eileen Welsome’s The Plutonium Files; America’s Secret Experiments in the Cold War.)

Only a fool would believe that government-sponsored conspiracies do not exist. History has proven that the media cannot protect us or inform us of vast government programs that hurt innocent people.

Charges of secret and unethical experiments against helpless citizens are not the ravings of paranoid people. On the contrary, they are serious accusations of an informed and enlightened citizenry.

It is time to speak out against falsely labelling people as paranoid.

Paranoid and paranoia are acceptable terms when used in a medical setting. But they have no place in slandering and denigrating people who express alternative views in a democratic society.

Alan Cantwell MD is a retired physician and cancer researcher who believes cancer is caused by bacteria and AIDS is man-made. There is probably no other physician on the planet whose publications are as controversial. Dr. Cantwell is a frequent contributor to New Dawn, and his various articles on AIDS and cancer can be found on the New Dawn website Much of his research can be found on, and thirty of his published papers can be accessed at (type in Cantwell AR). He is the author of two books on the man-made epidemic of AIDS: AIDS and the Doctors of Death, and Queer Blood, and a book on the microbiology of cancer, The Cancer Microbe. Dr. Cantwell is now happily retired from the clinical practice of dermatology for 10 years, and lives in Hollywood, California. Email:

The above article appeared in
New Dawn No. 72 (May-June 2002)

New Dawn – a 88 page bimonthly magazine – is available in newsagencies throughout Australia and New Zealand. Receive New Dawn in your mail box by Subscribing Today!

© Copyright 2002 by New Dawn Magazine and the respective authors.

© Copyright New Dawn Magazine, Permission granted to freely distribute this article for non-commercial purposes if unedited and copied in full, including this notice.

© Copyright New Dawn Magazine, Permission to re-send, post and place on web sites for non-commercial purposes, and if shown only in its entirety with no changes or additions. This notice must accompany all re-posting.

Friday, July 24, 2009

They're made out of Meat : The Video

They're Made Out of Meat

They're made out of meat

"They’re made out of meat."
"Meat. They’re made out of meat."
"There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat."
"That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars?"
"They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines."
"So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact."
"They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines."
"That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat."
"I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in that sector and they’re made out of meat."
"Maybe they’re like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage."
"Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take long. Do you have any idea what’s the life span of meat?"
"Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside."
"Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through."
"No brain?"
"Oh, there’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you."
"So … what does the thinking?"
"You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat."
"Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!"
"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?"
"Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat."
"Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years."
"Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?"
"First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The usual."
"We’re supposed to talk to meat."
"That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there. Anybody home.’ That sort of thing."
"They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?"
"Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat."
"I thought you just told me they used radio."
"They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat."
"Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?"
"Officially or unofficially?"
"Officially, we are required to contact, welcome and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing."
"I was hoping you would say that."
"It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?"
"I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say? ‘Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?"
"Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact."
"So we just pretend there’s no one home in the Universe."
"That’s it."
"Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?"
"They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them."
"A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream."
"And we marked the entire sector unoccupied."
"Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?"
"Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again."
"They always come around."
"And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone …"

Link here

Oldie but goodie
By Terry Bisson
Edited at 7.30pm

United Breaks Guitars Part 1

Hat Tip to Cato

In the spring of 2008, Sons of Maxwell were traveling to Nebraska for a one-week tour and my Taylor guitar was witnessed being thrown by United Airlines baggage handlers in Chicago. I discovered later that the $3500 guitar was severely damaged. They didn’t deny the experience occurred but for nine months the various people I communicated with put the responsibility for dealing with the damage on everyone other than themselves and finally said they would do nothing to compensate me for my loss. So I promised the last person to finally say “no” to compensation (Ms. Irlweg) that I would write and produce three songs about my experience with United Airlines and make videos for each to be viewed online by anyone in the world. United: Song 1 is the first of those songs. United: Song 2 has been written and video production is underway. United: Song 3 is coming. I promise.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Good Luck Thomas

The votes are being counted but this guy is a success whatever happens.

Go Thomas Burridge

Norwich North MP of the Future

Chloe may be the baby of the house for 8 months but you can be the next one. Her career will be short lived.

She doesn't even live in Norwich, or Norfolk. She lives in North London!!!

Norwich North By-Election - Calling The People Of Norwich

reposted from Boatang and Demetriou

Today is the day the Teddy Bears get shafted. That is the hope of millions of people around this country and it falls to the people of Norwich to deliver. No pressure.

So, if you are a person in Norwich and are reading this during your break, please do the right thing and vote Libertarian. Here is a list of the candidates and as you can see, they are all useless bar one. Thomas Burridge.

Many people like a protest vote, even more so in the current climate. But please, please don't go and waste it on some reactionary extremist from the BNP, or some made up loony party. Let alone UKIP who may, possibly, share your views on Europe, but their domestic politics are a shambles.

Remind yourself of the expenses debacle. Labour, Conservative, Liberal Democrat - they were all up to their necks in it. Don't give them the satisfaction of your vote.

Labour have destroyed this country.

The Tories are a shoe-in for the next election, but not winning this seat would give them the kick in the arse needed to attack to win it rather than sit back and let Brown lose it.

The Lib Dems are pointless. They won't win the election, they don't offer anything in Parliament. And remember this: if the election returns a hung Parliament they will have the casting vote, giving them another MP will probably give Labour one more as well when they side with them.

So that leaves the Libertarian Party. Here is the LPUK website and here is the manifesto. As you will see the party has a fundamental belief in your freedom of choice and the reduction of government powers to reduce that freedom.

Libertarianism is a wide ranging philosophy that encompasses wide ranging views from Left to Right. Your voice can be heard.

A vote for the Libertarian candidate is a kick in the teeth of the major parties and the rejection of the traditional protest parties. They have done nothing for anyone or anything. They represent the extremes of the traditional party system. The Libertarians do not, they represent a new approach that puts you first, a political party that challenges the political system itself.

Thomas Burridge is the second name on the ballot, send the right message to Westminster and the media of where you want this country to go.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

The Apprentice: Westminster Special

From our Guest Blogger Juliette

In the light of Alan 'Surrallun' Sugar taking his seat in the House of Lords - presumably with the blessing of our political elite - I couldn't help thinking of The Apprentice.

And how much better things would be if only everyone's favourite bulldog-licking-piss-off-a-thistle could oversee the world of politics...

(Scene opens with a bunch of people in suits, milling round in front of an anonymous looking pub on a cold grey English winter morning)

Baron Alan Sugar (standing before them) - This is the pub near the one-bedroomed council flat what I grew up in, cos I went to the school of 'ard knocks and I don't owe nobody nothin' and I din't 'ave a pair of shoes till I was faw-een. And the bizarre and tenuous link leadin' into this week's task is alcohol. Because this week, you'll be organisin' a piss-up in a brewery. Team Idiocity, you'll be followed by Nick - Team Entitled, you'll be followed by Margaret. Now off you go. And at the end of this task - one of you is gonna get fired.

(Cut to Team Idiocity - Gordon Brown, Peter Mandelson, Ed Balls, David Miliband - sitting together at a table, as they plan out their strategy in a nearby cafe...)

Peter: Gordon, you're team leader - but I'll tell everyone what to do, so you can focus on gnawing the tips of your fingers off and having a mental breakdown. Ed and David, you get together an eighty-strong task force to research national statistics on drinking habits and alcoholic preferences over the last 50 years. Gordon, you go and borrow forty billion pounds to build the biggest brewery anyone's ever seen, which won't be finished within any of our lifetimes. And I'll go and spread vicious career-ending lies round the media about Nick being a paedophile, a drug dealer and a vampire bat. So when he tells Sir Alan we were shit, nobody's going to believe a word he says.

(Cut to Team Entitled - David Cameron, George Osbourne, William Hague and Boris Johnson - in the process of completing their task...)

David - Gosh, these new bottle thingies look super - it's awfully lucky that my old chum Gussie Fink-Nottle works at Asprey's these days, and was able to turn some out for us at a reduced price. I say, look at that little diamond thingy on the cork. Simply wizard craftsmanship. I must get Samantha to buy some for our annual servants' ball.

Margaret - Would it surprise you to learn that each of these bottles of wine now costs 250 thousand pounds each?

Boris - Well, gosh, Margaret. That's chicken feed.

William - Oh, Boris. That has to be the single dumbest thing you ever said in your life...

(The teams have been called back to the boardroom. They sit around nervously in silent groups, as Baron Alan Sugar comes in.)

Baron Alan Sugar - Well, well, well. Team Entitled, you wasted ten million quid buyin' platinum and diamond bottles off some old school mate who works at the country's most expensive jeweller's. That's got to be the most schtoopid fing I ever heard in my life. Boris, you also said that two 'undred and fifty grand was chicken feed, which made Margaret attack you with 'alf a brick. I'd watch your mouth next time. There's a recession on, son.

Boris - (strapped to backboard and wrapped from head to foot in bandages) - Mmph.

Baron Alan Sugar - Now. Team Idiocity. You wasted £40 billion on buyin' a huge empty brewery that won't even be completed for another forty years. What's more, Nick, who was reportin' back to me on you, has recently died under mysterious circumstances, leaving a suicide note in what don't look like his writing. I ain't happy, gentlemen. I'm gonna be callin' you back into this boardroom - when one of you IS gonna get fired.

Meanwhile, Team Entitled, you are the winnin' team - if only by default. Which means that you get this week's treat. I've arranged with an old friend of mine for you to spend the next five years runnin' the country, and getting crucified by the national media because you went to Eton and can't perform fuckin' magic. Now off you go.

(Team Entitled carry Boris out of the boardroom, and high-five one another over his supine body.)

Come on, that's got to make great TV....

J x

Sunday, July 19, 2009

The MP Holiday Song…..Summer Recess of 2009

The MP Holiday Song…..Summer Recess of 2009

Phew, thank goodness for our holiday, Parliament’s in recess,
No more lies, no PMQ’s, no war, and no press.
Everyone can suffer, lose their jobs and cry,
The soldiers in Afghanistan can just carry on and die.

Parliament’s in recess, we are free to do as we please,
No more questions, no more shame, no-one to appease.
I’m an MP singing, and dancing for the summer,
Champagne all round, BBQs, oh, lets hire a hummer!

Parliament’s in recess, oh the joy and the happiness,
Leave it as it is, who cares about the mess?
The people are ungrateful, they’ll appreciate us soon,
We’ll make them suffer more, they’ll be singing to our tune.

I think I’ll go to Seychelles, and Italy and France,
I think I’ll take some lessons, maybe even learn to dance.
Goodbye you miserable voters, wallow in self pity
Survive on your own, do what you want, make your own committee.

We’re back in October, maybe then you’ll be more grateful,
Stop your whining and your ranting, stop being so hateful.
We know whats best, we are the kings, just do what we tell you
How many times we told you voters, you haven’t got a clue?

Sing to We're all going on a Summer Holiday (Cliff Richard)

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Liberty in the USA post Patriot Act

Dont say you weren't warned.

Oh the Irony of it all

Via the New York Times

This morning, hundreds of Amazon Kindle owners awoke to discover that books by a certain famous author had mysteriously disappeared from their e-book readers. These were books that they had bought and paid for—thought they owned.

But no, apparently the publisher changed its mind about offering an electronic edition, and apparently Amazon, whose business lives and dies by publisher happiness, caved. It electronically deleted all books by this author from people’s Kindles and credited their accounts for the price.

This is ugly for all kinds of reasons. Amazon says that this sort of thing is “rare,” but that it can happen at all is unsettling; we’ve been taught to believe that e-books are, you know, just like books, only better. Already, we’ve learned that they’re not really like books, in that once we’re finished reading them, we can’t resell or even donate them. But now we learn that all sales may not even be final.

As one of my readers noted, it’s like Barnes & Noble sneaking into our homes in the middle of the night, taking some books that we’ve been reading off our nightstands, and leaving us a check on the coffee table.

You want to know the best part? The juicy, plump, dripping irony?

The author who was the victim of this Big Brotherish plot was none other than George Orwell. And the books were “1984” and “Animal Farm.”

Hat Tip to Patrick, and Cryptogon

Weekend Blogging: MOD spies on Army

As seen on newspaper as I walked past from coming back from the parcel office to get a parcel that had not fitted through my letterbox on monday I saw the title MOD spies on Army veterans who have injuries.

And Henry Allingham has died

There are now only two surviving World war one veterans

I remember reading some prediction that once the other two die then we've had it basically. The end of the world is nigh.

Having said that I feel shattered after a week commuting to Ruislip so Ive got nothing more to say....

See you next time

Friday, July 17, 2009

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Perfectly timed

Well it was even harder to haul my sorry ass out of bed this morning. I left the house at 7.30 and arrived at work at the dot of nine

I am not a happy bunny, I am knackered and this morning was a nightmare.

I have never done so much computer work before in the presence of clients.

I had to type what they were saying and formulate in my brain what the problem was all at the same time, I can do this but doing it with my fingers tapping away on a keyboard is something very new.

I have even started to comfort eat again which is a really bad sign.

I am seriously thinking about going back on a strict diet but it is difficult when you are knackered out and spending 12 hours a day revolving around work and only a couple of hours on looking after yourself.

To add injury to the whole process my leg decided that it had had enough to day and was aching and I couldnt fucking walk easily without pain. That made me want to swear loudly all day but I have refrained from doing so. I ate myself into oblivion at lunchtime and I am still finding myself feeling woozy from the amount of food I guzzled at lunch.

Even the manager here congratulated me on a "robust Lunch You enjoy it"

Wasnt sure if that was a positive bit of feedback or a negative one.

Still I dont care for now but woe betide anyone who wakes me up early on Sunday, Unfortunately I have to get up early on saturday and haul myself to the parcel office because my neighbour missed one delivery when I was out and I got the slip saying we tried to deliver, The netbook that I am typing this on was the other parcel.. I might have gone mad if I hadnt had this.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

The Metropolitan Line

or How I learned to sleepwalk and commute at the same time.

I am commuting by tube and bus everyday. I get on the Piccadilly Line, change at Finsbury park and then get off at Kings cross and change for the Metropolitan line.

I then spend a decent amount of time trying to relax on this line, but today I noticed that the little buffers underneath the seats boil, they are like little radiators, And yet they say they are bringing in air conditioned tubes, Did no one realise that having heat sinks like those buffers is not helpful? Sure enough in Winter they are probably needed but not in summer Why havent they been turned off? If you are lucky enough to be able to stretch your legs then the soles of your feet get burnt, If you are not so lucky your knees get burnt.

Its such a waste of energy. What were the fuckwits who designed the train thinking? That no one would get burnt or notice the vast amount of heat emanating from the underneath of the seat? heated seats are all very well in cars but absolutely crap in trains. And then they have the gall to say that oh we can't cool down the tube!

In a new development, I just got one of the logins and passwords that I need but that IT dept cant give me a login and pass word so that I can actually access the system that they just gave me the password for because that is at another IT department.

Joined up thinking I think not...

Still Who am I to complain?

As for waking up this morning, oh I felt like shit when the alarm went off, I had made myself go to bed at 10 to 10 last night so that I wouldnt feel too tired this morning, did it work Did it hell, I felt as if I had been hit by a bus and I had haul my sorry ass out of bed at 6.25 am because I thought I cant stay in bed any later or I might be late for work, and then I get to work at 8.40 and then I find that the boss is not in today so I could have spent another ten minutes in bed.

I have also decided that I have to do my supermarket shop online now, during work because I have no other time to do it.

I had forgotten how bad commuting was for a life! I actually gained a life when I wasnt working, even though I didn't have much money.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Computer says no

As regular readers of this blog know I have just started a new job, I cant say where but lets say it takes at least 90 minutes on public transport to get to it. I havent wondered about getting there by scooter or car yet as I want to see if I can avoid running the car or the scooter in to the ground.

The scooter needs an MOT and a new tax disc shortly anyway.

I particularly do not want to drive in the morning as I may end up being stressed and homicidal by the end of the day if I have to drive back.

In my new job everything is supposedly paperless, and my boss is part of this change.

That means that without three passwords and three logins you cant get into the computer systems to do any work. How am I typing this? I bought my own netbook so that I could surf what ever I fucking wanted to, on my own connection and my own machine whenever I had time to do so. Sod the fucking work computers that have internet explorer 6 with no java.

So theyve had 10 days notice of me starting here, or a bit more actually almost two weeks, Have IT pulled their finger out and got me the logins? Have they fuck They are going to take another 3-5 days to do so.

Still I dont mind being paid agency rates and being paid to do fuck all, or surf on my own little netbook in a nice breezy office that stays cooler than the rest of the building.

I shouldnt even be complaining, but Im tired and grumpy from having to get up at dawn and having no energy.

Im just thanking myself for splurging about a days pay on a netbook so that I can surf anywhere , it being easier to carry ( 1kg) than my current laptop which is bloody heavy.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Blogging Lite

Some of us have to work and since I am grappling with a 2 hour journey on the Tubes no less it means that blogging will be infrequent.

But it doesnt mean that you should all disappear There will be posts.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

7/7 Memorial and Anniversary

Today is the fourth death anniversary of the 52 people killed in the 7/7 attacks.

It holds a special significance for me and is the reason this blog was born.

There will be no posts for a couple of days.

WACKO! - A Musical

From our Guest Blogger Juliette

Following the raging success of Mamma Mia and We Will Rock You, I found myself thinking - what could be more topical than a musical based on the songs of Michael Jackson?

And what subject matter could be more topical than the end of New Labour?

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present...

A Political Musical

by Juliette

Scene 1 - MAD
(Dynamic opening number by leading man Gordon Brown, performed to the tune of Bad)

My smile is weird
It just don't look right
Go check it out
On that YouTube site
I'm telling you
Better watch your butt
Because I look
Like a scary nut...

I'm giving you
On count of two
To shit your pants
And vote for blue
I'm tellin you
Just watch my eyes
You wouldn't trust me
To serve you fries

Well they say I'm going crazy
And for me that's just a fact
But my friend, you have seen nothing
Just wait till I get sacked

Because I'm mad, I'm mad - come on
You know I'm mad, I'm mad - you know it
You know I'm mad, I'm mad - come on, you know
And the whole world has to answer right now
Just to tell you once again,
Who's mad . . .

(Passionate duet for two MPs, to the tune of I Just Can't Stop Loving You)

Each time the bills come
Stick 'em up your bum
I ain't got to pay ...
New suite this morning
Get some free porn in
It's on the UK

You know how I feel
This scam can't go wrong
I'm so proud to say
It's rent-free
I may be a scrote
But I got a clean moat
We'll get this shit forever
Thieving's the answer...

Off to the shop now
Get a free mop now
And carpet spray
Look voters, see here
Can't buy my own gear
On 90K

I won't spend my dosh
But I want to live posh
My life ain't worth living
If I can't steal from you...

I just can't stop robbing you
I just can't stop robbing you
And if I stop . . .
Then tell me just what will I do...

'Cos I just can't stop robbing you...

Scene 3 - KEN
(A sweet-faced young voter sings affectionately to a small evil-looking ratlike creature burrowing into London Paper, to the tune of Ben)

Ken, the Londoners need look no more
They all found what they were looking for
Like a mayor who isn't shit
You newt-loving old git
So you, my friend, are sacked
Piss off and don't come back

Ken, you're always slagging Boris off
You say he is just a useless toff
If you weren't a bitter knob
You might just shut your gob
You just look even worse
Can someone call for nurse?

Ken, most people would turn you away
They don't listen to a word you say
And they're absolutely right
You washed-up commie shite
I bet they'd vote again
If they had a mayor like Ken...

Scene 4 - MILIBAND
(The finale. A big show-stopping song and dance number performed by huge crowd of TV viewers, to the tune of Thriller)

It's close to midnight
and something scary's there on your TV
Right there on Newsnight,
You see a sight that makes you spill your tea
You try to scream
But terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze
And wish you hadn't taken those Allis
That was unwise...

'Cos this is Miliband, Miliband night
And no one's gonna save you from the freak with scary eyes
You know it's Miliband, on Newsnight
You're fighting for your life inside a Miliband interview tonight

Christ, he looks scary
Like something off a Hammer Horror flick
You try to calm down
And tell yourself he's just another prick
But Jesus Christ
He's like a dummy haunted by the devil
All through the night
You'll see his freaky likeness in your dreams
You start to scream...

'Cos this is Miliband, Miliband night
Just quickly change the channel, he's one spooky-looking shite
You know it's Miliband, on Newsnight
You're fighting for your life inside a Miliband interview tonight...

(Any Cameron Mackintoshy types want to buy the rights, you know where I am...)

J x

Monday, July 6, 2009

Norwich North By-election

The Tory candidate for the Norwich North By Election, Chloe Smith is a true career politician, She has been running in primaries in the whole of East Anglia and ran for the primary in Ipswich in August 2007 and was beaten by the son of John Selwyn Gummer who you may remember being infamous for feeding a beefburger on tv to his daughter in front of the cameras, regarding BSE, Benedict Gummer is the PPC for Ipswich.

She does not have Norwich North's interests at heart I would say she only has her own interests at heart.

No Stripes Tiger

Photo by CATERS

Story here

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Like Father.. Like Son...

Camilla Shand (now HRH Duchess of Cornwall) and the future Princess of Wales.

Bone structure and facial features.

leads me to think are they related in any way shape or form? How many descendants does Alice Keppel have?

If Kate can trace her family back to before the Civil War in Britain then it is likely that she is a very distant relative of the Firm.

Hitler Learns of Jacko's Death : Downfall

Something to amuse you once again from the downfall stable.

and also this.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Norwich North By-election

Vote LPUK in Norwich North. I wish Thomas at the very best a win, and at the worst a retention of deposit

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Air New Zealand Naked safety Video

Friday Funny as reported in the Register

Modem blew up this morning

Blogging will be lite as just on dongle for internet.

Have bought modem but need to set it up tomorrow.

Still I did get £50 off a wireless one.

To err is human to really foul things up one requires a computer

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

The perils of a Neo-Con Conservative Government for Britain

From the First Post

A David Cameron government would be brimming with neo conservatives and totalitarian policies.

"Fearing that in a head-to-head contest between popular former Chancellor Kenneth Clarke and right-winger David Davis, the more charismatic - and anti-war - Clarke would win, the neocon faction within the party started to champion the cause of a young, relatively little known MP for Witney, promoting him as the man who would 'modernise' the party and lead it back to power. The strategy worked a treat, and the little known MP - David Cameron - pulled off a surprise victory.

Cameron's campaign was masterminded by a triumvirate of MPs: Michael Gove, Ed Vaizey and George Osborne."


" As for Osborne, Cameron's Shadow Chancellor and right-hand man; he praised the "excellent neoconservative case" for war against Iraq.

There are other strong neocon influences on Cameron. Policy Exchange, which has been described as the Tory leader's 'favourite think-tank', and which will have an open door to Number 10, was set up in 2002 by Michael Gove and fellow hawk Nicholas Boles, a member of the Notting Hill set who the Tories plan to parachute into the safe seat of Grantham and Stamford at the next election. Dean Godson, the group's research director and adviser on security issues, has been described as "one of the best connected neoconservatives in Britain"."

So you disaffected voters? Still want a Conservative government? It could be worse than Gorgon Browns.

Now that's a scary thought!

Stat Pron June

June's stat pron.

Two years of hard work starting to pay off.