See what telly does?

Good for Chinese television, pruning the dead wood from its schedules. It's about time some of our media channels did the same. We could get rid of all soaps to commercial channels - why should I pay the BBC tax to fund East-knowwhatImeangeezer-duckingandivinginnit-Enders? If I want visceral, lefty, social comment I can get plenty of that online without the implicit endorsement of the national broadcaster.

All forms of makeover show could also be given their own makeover - straight into the bin. Daytime telly? Get off your arse and out to work/school/whatever. That's half the problem solved, right there. And why so many BBC channels anyway? Really, 1 & 2 and the regionals, along with regional radio should be plenty. Cull 'em.

Now I have the bit between my teeth the NHS could do with a bit of a prune as well. No more funding for cosmetic treatments, unproven alternative therapies and most forms of self-esteem based claptrap. Quality of health not equality of life. We just can't afford it. You fell over? You have a bit of a cough? You don't feel like going in to work? Be away with you and don't come back until you're presenting buboes.

Helpfully, the DWP seem to be getting the hang of it and have discovered what many of us have known for years - The workshy are shy of work! Who knew? It's time we got away from the idea that benefits are some sort of right and instead recognise that for the last few decades some people have managed to exploit and distort good intentions. Give anything away for nothing and that's exactly how much respect it gets in return. Do they get the dole in China? I somehow doubt it.

Happiness and equality, equality of happiness. It's never going to be like the telly pretends it is. And as for giving a platform to the young - fuck 'em until they earn their way. Wake up Britain and get a grip.

And if you need an example of how much better your lives are than they have ever been, you just have to examine the amount of hot air expended on discussing, dissecting, vilifying and/or supporting Diane Abbott's divide and rule comments. A society with this much time on its hands has very much lost the plot, don't you think?

You all need to get a sense of perspective. If you feel you need to protest at Matt's cartoon (below) suppress that urge immediately and get back to work.

Have a lovely day.

Own Goal

I received a text yesterday asking whether I'd heard about the new 50p coin that explained the offside rule in footie. I patiently waited for the (no doubt hilarious) punchline, which never came. But while I was driving home I heard about it on the radio. Offside coin? I still thought it might be an early April Fool joke, but no.

Here's the story in the Daily Mail yesterday.

I know what you're thinking; just because the Mail reports it it doesn't make it true. So I searched The Guardian. No sign of it on the main page. Neither was it to be found in Money, nor in Sport. Oh, of course, the Guardianistas don't really get sport - with their weedy little legs and delicate sensibilities and all that. (In fact a sport-rule 50p would probably be far too guilt-ridden for them, representing the twin evils of capitalism and brute human nature.) But The Guardian don't report a lot of things that they don't agree with, so this wasn't conclusive

I still needed confirmation so I turned to the Daily Telegraph and there it was, on their main Sport page. Sorted. Good old Telegraph, reliable reporting on the important issue of the day. Now nobody need be in any doubt about this important principle and for good measure I've drawn you a diagram:

But while I was trawling the 'net I came across this unsavoury little article about yet another paedophile churchman who notably rewarded his victims to the tune of fifty pee a go. Foul ref! Of course this was a Catholic abuser - the regular kind - but that doesn't draw fire from my comments about the Archbishop of Canterbury the other day. Not one bit; blokes in clerical dress are all of a kind; delusional oddballs, some of whom use their calling to camouflage their crimes.

But at least we now have some help. Rather than put the victims through the misery of describing their ordeal, we can just ask them, "Using the fifty-paedophile coin, show the court just where he touched you." Offside!

Licensed to Panic

A startling story by the Daily Mail reveals the peril of out-of-date licence pictures. The story reckons that up 1.6 million driving licence holders have out of date photographs, rendering their licence illegal and themselves liable to a fine of up to £1000.

Crikey, I thought, I'd best check... it's been a while.

So I had a furtle, followed by a rake about and then a rummage, which got me nowhere; I needed more serious verbs. I tried a good going over, then an exploration, followed by some intense scrutiny of kitchen drawers, shelves, cupboards and under furniture. No go.

Finally, I turned to the place I was certain I'd find it.. And sure enough, there it was, with all my other personal information in my highly organised, rigidly alphabetised filing cabinet under 'DVLA Etc'. I knew it would be there because it was the last place I intended to look. I really don't know why we have to put ourselves through such a palaver; I don't know why I couldn't just look for it there in the first place, but conventions are after all conventions and where would be without rules, eh? (Yes, I know - France!)

Well, I had nothing to worry about, had I? There's my picture - as perfect a likeness today as it was when it was first taken. No problems. Can you be so certain?

Jaimini* Clarkson

Well, once again the Guardian gleefully reports complaints against stalwart, proper British bloke Jeremy Clarkson. This time it is in reaction to the Christmas Top Gear Special in India, in which the lads embarked on a comedy trade mission to the subcontinent.

I just watched it so that I can comment appropriately. It was hilariously un-PC, joyously amateurish and side-splittingly typical of all that is best from this worldwide entertainment export and global leader in its field. Even the end credits are gloriously juvenile and funny as a result.

The po-faced BBC has received complaints that the content was "offensive to India and Indian culture" and Twitter users have accused the show of "casual racism" and "racist stereotyping". Well, duh-errr! That's part of the reason why it was funny.

Obviously in pink-and-fluffy, oh-so-serious, Guardian/BBC/Twitter Land no one group of people would ever resort to the crude stereotyping of any other group. Oh, except of course for those maniacal left-wing atmosphere vacuums, so ready to suck the increasingly diminishing humour allotment out of life itself. They alone possess the sensibilities to detect and neutralise the smallest particle of inoffensive fun and would happily legislate to criminalise any form of joke that wasn't inclusive to all. 

So, here's a good one for you Guardianistas: A bulimic, black/Asian/ethnic-other [delete as appropriate for maximum indignation] paraplegic, colourblind, poor, lesbian social worker with learning difficulties was wheeled into a bar... and everybody remained respectfully silent. Hilarious, no? Well I find your smug, patronising, mewling, mealy-mouthed protestations an offence to my very sense of being and I would defend to the death (okay, I'd maybe go on a march) the right of Jeremy Clarkson to offend whosoever he likes.

So you can fuck right off.

(*Jaimini - Indian male name meaning 'ancient philosopher')

C*nterbury Tales

So the Welsh beardie-weirdie, Gandalf-alike Rowan Williams has come out (again - we get it, already) about his love for young people. This was hardly the church's best kept secret - damn you grassers, hell for all of you.

He is reported as saying, "When you see the gifts they can offer, the energy that can be released when they feel safe and loved, you see what a tragedy we so often allow to happen,"

Well they can certainly offer gifts, among them such priceless offerings as flat screen TVs, iPhones, Nike trainers and bags of basmati rice. Also, plenty of energy was expended in getting through bullet-proof plate glass, so you can hardly fault that part of his logic.

But, hang on a minute, the rioters were hardly choirboys, were they? You know, those angelic youngsters, filled with love, with wide eyes, wide open mouths and centre-partings. ("Kneel. Good boy. Let me part your hair... there's a good choirboy... shush now.") They would, I'd have thought, have bloody good reasons to go on the rampage.

So, I appear to have got the wrong end of the stick here. He is honestly suggesting that love, actually, is the key and a bit more love would have prevented all this. What, more church love?

But, Rowan you muppet, these kids do know what love is. The brutal, blindly instinctive, animal love of their feral parents is undisputed and they are encouraged to engage in the physical demonstration of love as early as possible. Their social lives are ruled entirely by the ephemeral twin lures of casual sex and consumer goods. In fact, they are the very outcome of this freely available, unrestrained, ignorant 'love', or to use the proper term, wanton fucking. I read a pathetic right-wing blog yesterday which suggested that ruling authorities in the west are spiking the water to inhibit fertility; this is patently untrue - just look around you.

All Rowan Williams' rhetoric is utterly lost because the ones he wants to reach can't or don't read - they are too busy drinking, doing drugs, fucking and rioting. If he thinks the rioters need more love - contrary to all the evidence - maybe he needs to be more specific. I thought that church elders were supposed to be wise, but in the absence of any proof of that I've drawn up a short list of some special types of adoration that might help.

• Plastic bullet passion
• Water cannon worship
• Detainment delight
• Jail lust 
• Chain gang cherishing
• Public flogging fervour, and
• Execution ecstasy

All of which, I believe, will chime much more harmoniously with the wishes and the wisdom of the public at large. Now, get back to your drums, Archbishop.