Fair Trade?

Mrs May is off on her jollies, demonstrating her natural warmth and empathy... and dancing skills, and basically doing her damnedest to appear unfazed by the entire world view of her, which is dead woman walking. What she is doing, of course, is trying to work out where to deploy the foreign aid bribes most effectively; at which despots to bung British taxpayers’ dosh; where to waste the wonga... everybody expects the same ultimate fate as that of the company of the same name.

Shortly before my recent ‘Twexit’ I engaged in a debate about foreign aid which rested on the affirmation by another party that 'foreign aid isn't wasted money'. No? Try convincing the NHS garment-renders. Ask the young people struggling to get on properly funded apprenticeships. Consult the homeless, the local authorities and the police. Consider actually putting the proposal to maintain the overseas aid budget at current levels to those who actually pay for it.

It all depends on what you think foreign aid is: If it is charity, are the needs of British subjects second to those of the third world which outnumbers them thousands to one and among which the largess may well be spread too thin to make a difference, or else end up channelled into undesirable pockets - gold-plated Bentleys, anyone? And if it is a bribe is it desirable that we are seen to be bribing despots - gold-plated Bentleys, anyone?

And if we do have to offer bribes in order to trade, anywhere, what does that say about both parties to the arrangement? Does it indicate that the trade is not worth it on merit, or is it just a means of paying more than the going rate? To many people, the people who ultimately cough for it as well as those who receive it , foreign aid says one thing loud and clear, it says - look at us - we're rich enough to throw money away. And if this is what we give away overseas, how rich must we be at home?

Britain is not only seen as a rich and generous country, but also as one with rich pickings for the opportunists. Economic migrants cross continents in order to take advantage of us, in the knowledge that once on British soil, there are many ways to milk the system. One, seemingly honest way, is to work for a living; after all, our benefit system is particularly generous towards those who earn minimum wage because we top it up with a variety of benefits, both direct and in kind. The NHS is one example of a ‘free’ benefit in kind; it is free to all who are not net taxpayers.

Maybe we should actually take a leaf from one section of Corbyn’s hymn sheet and not seek trade with despotic regimes? Or do we genuinely believe that only by appeasing and enriching the despots can we open up a dialogue and attempt to improve diminished lives? If foreign aid is effective, don’t we deserve a dialogue of our own; shouldn’t we be trusted to know exactly how it is spent and how this ultimately benefits the UK? Let's not kid ourselves that things like fair trade coffee are anything other than making ourselves feel good by paying over the odds for average coffee?

The Age of Wonder

What do you mean, you’re not gay? How on earth do you ever expect to get a decent job? The old advice to work hard, keep your nose clean and make yourself indispensable would seem, in this new, identitarian world, to be positively antediluvian. Today it is not even about who you are, but what you are. Forget your dewy-eyed longing for a meritocracy, the mediocracy is where it’s at; a few years ago companies were being advised to hire for diversity before talent on the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy that as successful companies were often diverse, therefore their success must be because of their diversity.

This is as ridiculous a stance as Tony Blair’s let’s-send-everybody-to-university policy, founded on the notion that as graduates, in general, up to the New Labour era, earned more, thus an automatic increase in prosperity could be magicked-up simply by removing the barriers to entry. Grade inflation, already worryingly accelerated, became rampant. And what happened? The market responded by creating worthless degrees from pop-up, ersatz universities and threw a generation of eager young people on the employability scrapheap.

You would think we would learn. Teach everybody the same rigorous basics, select for specialisation, emphasise important STEM subjects, but simultaneously encourage the less academic to learn lifelong, vitally important, non-academic skills. But most importantly, build an educated, informed, realistically aspirational new workforce. Any country which relies on attracting foreign workers to do work well within the compass of its own citizens is pursuing a folly which may well be about to be realised when they make a similarly monumental fuck-up over a botched Brexit.

But back to the identity bullshit. Disney has been in bother for casting a non-disabled actor in the role of a disabled character and BBC is currently taking flak for not managing to cast an actual elephant man in the role of the Elephant man. A caller to Nick Ferrari this morning even sort of managed to suggest that only Joseph [John] Merrick himself could have given a faithful rendering of his life’s experiences. She seemed unhinged enough to be capable of being indignant that Merrick, who died in 1890 wasn’t offered the lead role in the 1980 movie. See what happens when your audience is innumerate?

And as if the idiocy of identity politics isn’t apparent enough a BBC executive is once again publicly calling, in the name of diversity, for the replacement of white men on the telly-box who present with no gender confusion, disablement or other victim status,. How long before they are demanding Daniel Day-Lewis gives back his Oscar and other awards for My Left Foot on account of him having full control of both feet?

Yeah, I think we've got all the bases covered here.

When civilisation falls, when transport and technology vanish, when the human rights industry eventually has us all eating each other and all that is left of the western world is a metaphorical giant left foot bearing the legend of Ozymandias, once king of kings, will future historians wonder what led to the ending of the reformation, the age of enlightenment, the industrial revolution, the space age, the information superhighway and all the wonders created by millions of brilliant minds... or will they just be too stupid?

Special K

My first sally into the e-book world was with a Sony e-book. A bit clunky to use but it did the trick, sort of. But after battery issues I returned it to a disgruntled retailer and didn’t bother with a replacement. I was surprised to learn that e-versions cost more, back then, than paper considerably more in some cases. But Amazon was working on it. Stephen Fry, famously, had a Kindle, but the software didn’t yet work in Europe and the UK and I had to wait a couple of years.

My first Kindle was a marvel – old fashioned, a bit 1990s in functionality and navigation - but wow, you could read it in daylight. Back then I travelled a good deal more than  have in the last few years and I began, as I imagine most do, trawling through the catalogues of cheap-as-chips, out-of-copyright classics. I eventually updated to the one with the backlight and when I accidentally broke the screen, replaced the device without hesitation.

That final version – I was never tempted by the gaudy ‘fire’ versions - now sits, uncharged on my desk. It has an accusatory posture; please use me, it seems to say. But why would I use it at my desk – I have a bigger, better, brighter and hugely more versatile screen right here in front of me. And I like to read when I go to bed, but despite the obvious convenience of an e-reader I have reverted to paper books, as I hear many have. My bedside cabinet holds a satisfying pile of books queued up ready and a visual reminder not to buy any more until I have ploughed through this year’s supply of wonderful words.

Many miles away, I have a storage unit, half-filled with books (half of all my possessions are books) I may never again have the room to display them, lovingly, on shelves, in a gloriously haphazard order which suits my internal filing system. Melvil Dewey, he of the Decimal Classification system, would have a fit. But as well as my horde I have also the memories of books gone by, many of which I have lost and replaced and many of which are probably gone forever. Storing a thousand books on a handheld device is just not the same as having a thousand books right there.

All the new ideas in politics, right here.

Now, I know you’re waiting for the politics and philosophy, so here it comes: Every now and then a bright new idea comes along – it usually calls itself the Labour Party – and it promises equality and aspiration and affluence for all. But then, when you try it out you find it doesn’t work quite as well as the hype suggests and the tried and trusted method, although more labour intensive, is ultimately far more satisfying. I will charge my Kindle when I go on holiday, but I won’t be persuaded to give up the real thing.

Division Hell

If you keep on repeating the lie, it becomes true-ish. Nobody knows – literally nobody knows – what the sentiment of the British public now is towards Brexit, but keep on telling them that it has swung to remain and eventually those who still wish to leave the EU will begin to think they are now outnumbered. In the political world, despite the government’s thus far intransigence regarding a re-run the momentum for some form of second referendum is emboldened by the apparent lack of opposition to it.

This is because, despite all who voted to leave knowing exactly what they voted for, there is no concerted, focused ‘leave’ party as, just like with left and right, one side is quietly getting on with their lives while the other is making protest the purpose of their lives. The coalition of loosely Marxist ideologies thrives on their collective faith that the solution to the world’s problems is best trusted to a star chamber of unelected overlords, busily creating legislation to whip the little people into line.

They believe, of course, that such powers will never be used against them as it so often has been in every socialist state that has ever existed. Lenin’s phrase ‘useful idiot’ has never been more apt; some of these people still see Hugo Chavez as some great People’s Hero. Diane Abbot even said that Mao had probably done more good than harm. John McDonnell thinks that violently storming Conservative Party headquarters represents ‘the best’ of the Labour movement. This is the future which remain voters don’t realise they are voting for.

The hope is, of course, that ‘soft Brexiteers’ are hearing and assimilating the lies of Project Fear and beginning to buy into it. To now say openly that you still want to leave is to invite contempt and abuse and accusations of ‘stealing my children’s future’. Such ridiculous hysterical reaction is a staple of the Remainers’ sloganeering and as a result the voices for Leave have stilled. Some of them are just hoping the clamour of insults will die away and it has to be the case that some are secretly hoping the departure can be reversed and that everything will go back to normal.

But that ship sailed long ago; HMS Status Quo has slipped over the horizon never to return. War divides countries and make no mistake this is war. Herman Van Rompuy has said Brexit will split Britain and much as the low grade bank clerk may once have been the wizened wizard behind the EU megaphone I’m afraid he may be right. This is one genie which is not going back in the bottle. But sooner or later this great divide was going to open up anyway, Brexit merely hastened its revelation.

It’s them and us, as it always was, and as it always was the division is on class lines. On one side we have the rulers and their lackeys, those who wish to be allowed to govern without the interruption and uncertainty of elections and those who imagine that being ruled is better than having freedom of choice. On the other we have the stout yeomen of Alle Englande – the peasantry, the people... demos, in whose name the question was asked and to whom the decision was entrusted. But, as we know, the demos gave the wrong answer.

What governments want.

This new peasants’ revolt is not going to be mollified by a new vote; if they ignore the last one why should they honour the next? No, we demanded to be given back the power we lost. Not only the power we lost to the EU but more particularly the power to hold our own government to account. Vince Cable has said we should demand better while the political class as a whole wants to ensure we are never again in a position to demand anything. Brexit is merely a sideshow now.

Dear Twitter,

When I first signed up to your platform in 2009 I found it odd that people mostly appeared to spend their time tweeting pictures of what they were about to eat or drink. It wasn’t for me and I abandoned it fairly quickly. Two years later I returned, under a pseudonym and found it more engaging and even challenging, as people were not afraid to say what they thought: of others, of the world in general and in particular of the political class. It became my social media outlet of choice and I regularly entered the cut and thrust of debate.

I used it as a first resort for news and became part of a community of like-minded and fair-minded people who shared what are now seen as extreme views. Views such as the belief that it is up to each individual to strive to make their own lives more fulfilling; that a liberal approach to society, tolerating difference is preferable to sowing division; that many who would describe themselves as left-leaning are often bigoted and intolerant and can’t even see how fascistic they are.

While most people in the wider world are politically apathetic, confused and, despite their voting record, largely non-aligned with any real ideology, the ‘politicians’ on social media are often heavily invested, deeply entrenched and sometimes exhibit signs of deep psychosis, being unwilling or unable to alter their impaired vision of reality. A regular pattern emerged and one with which many of us became familiar:

An interloper joins a conversation to hurl abuse, often of the ‘evil-Tory-Thatcher-monster-you-hate-poor-people-and-want-to-kill-the-sick-I-hope-you-get-cancer’ variety. Original participants ignore or engage, but usually shrug off the tirade. Interloper gets angrier and more abusive. Interloper blocks, then tells all their friends to follow suit. Hey, I have no problem being blocked; if anything it is the ideal solution for your hair-trigger offence-seeker if they never have to read a world view they reject.

And thus Twitter policed itself, only intervening when things got seriously out of hand and people’s lives were genuinely threatened with disruption. Most of us with forthright views occasionally got a slap on the wrist, which we accepted, apologised for, then took down the offending posts, promised to be nicer and were reinstated, a little chastened but free to twitter on. But things didn’t stay that way for long...

Twitter began its own crusade; no longer content to provide a forum it began to police it in ways that seemed almost sinister. The angry types soon realised that Twitter was quick to sanction, so began dog-piling into accounts they hated. I suffered several week-long bans based not always on my original words, but often just for retweeting ‘unfashionable’ opinions. I observed – as many have – that calling for violence towards certain public figures, hurling extreme abuse at individuals, harrying personal accounts, calling down mobs and generally behaving like animals was often tolerated, while those who were the subject of the attacks were removed.

Indeed, Twitter even took it upon itself to remove people simply because they didn’t somehow accord with what Twitter regarded as ‘acceptable’ free speech. I honestly can’t see what is extreme about Milo Yiannopoulos – he’s even in one of the approved ‘victim’ groups – but there he was, gone. Yet people who openly preach the ending of the white race, who support the murders and land grabs in South Africa, who praise despotic, brutal regimes and regularly preach hatred and hurl abuse remain visible and free to spread their poison.

And of course the biggest poison of all, the extreme elements of a sect which practises horrific abuse, subjugation and terror, continues to enjoy freedom of expression but woe betide those who speak against it. The religion of peas rightly comes in for a fair amount of opprobrium and why not – any ideology that wishes my kind to be wiped from the earth or enslaved in the service of a non-existent being is not all right with me or any other right-thinking person.

But hey, none of that matters any more because you have removed my account and prevented me from even logging on to find out why. For what it’s worth, I believe the imprecation “shoot the buggers” whenever the police/armed forces/border control find themselves under genuine threat in an impossible situation is not incitement to violence, rather an expression of exasperation which used to be commonplace a few decades ago and is still in currency among many ‘civilians’ out in the world which exists beyond the internet.

We were warned...

But I figure it’s your loss, Twitter, and that you are destined to become just another echo-chamber where self-identifying victims can howl and stamp their tiny feet. The control of the message always ends up being in the hands of the idiots simply because they outnumber the rest of us. The comparison has been made before, but the best known works of a certain Eric Arthur Blair are, to many people, prophetic. Your motto should be: All Tweeters are equal, but some Tweeters are more equal than others.