(If you have got this far and you agree, endorse, or just want to share, there is a link below which you can use to spread the word. Many thanks in anticipation.)
Friday, 31 January 2020
My Twitter account is locked. I locked it after seeing the correspondence from Imran Ahmed to ‘Katy’, (I assume representing Twitter) and acknowledging a meeting on Tuesday. Time stamped Wed 29 Jan 2020 08:52, the email says:
“Given the positive nature of the talks, we hope to see the following in the coming weeks:
1) A commitment to not just bring back the import/export facilities for blocklists but a commitment to work with CCDH on a new initiative to make it far easier for people to more easily share their blocklists so we can start to harness social power to collectively exclude hate actors from public discourse.
2) The banning of hate actors as we discussed in the meeting, including [redacted] and the people in the attached document.
3) A full review of both George Galloway and Katie Hopkins’ ability to use your platform to spread hate and a commitment to publicly publish the full decision with reasoning by March 13th (six weeks’ time) so that our society can have a constructive and evidenced debate on Twitter’s merits as a place for people to communicate, build relationships and find new information.
Could we schedule to reconnect on progress w/c March 9th? In the meantime, I will be on email and phone although some hours behind you in the States.
We think these are reasonable and constructive requests. We hope you agree.
CCDH stands for the Center[sic] for Countering Digital Hate. Now, my opinion of hate is that is a visceral, primitive emotion which has little place in cool adult discourse. It is a word used by truculent children to hurt their parents. It is a word uttered in anger and frustration by those with no vocabulary to distinguish between dislike, antipathy, aversion, loathing or even simple preference. Increasingly it is used against people with a different opinion to the hate-detector, for this is what CCDH really is. Clearly of the left, this is an organisation with one purpose; to de-platform those with whom they disagree.
In setting themselves up as arbiters of what hate is they also get to impose rules about what kind of hate is permissible. For, make no mistake, the suspension of Katie Hopkins is motivated by the pure leftist hatred for anybody who gets in their way. If the fascists – limitation of free speech is an instrument of fascism – of CCDH get their way, Twitter will become a thought-free bubble of ideological consensus which uses the acquiescence of useful idiots to further an agenda as insidious as any they loudly proclaim to oppose.
I hear through the grapevine that my blog has restricted access under certain ‘safeguarding’ processes of the ISPs. I regularly see Tweeters I follow complaining that their reach has been limited, their tweets rendered invisible and their ability to follow others curtailed. I hear of shadow-banning and other practices which reduce the ‘volume’ of their voices. And I see, daily, members returning after short suspensions for the most innocuous of expressed sentiment, where clearly no ‘crime’ was committed.
They are of one mind, the banners, the mass blockers, the deniers of others’ freedoms. And they have one aim which is to create a sanitised ‘safe space’ where only the approved opinions may be promulgated. This is an extension of state education, where teachers quietly reinforce the ‘correct’ modes of thought and turn their charges against the politics of their parents. They speak of harm, where no harm exists. They pretend to openness and diversity, but brook no diversity of thought.
As with school, so with Twitter
Tonight, when we symbolically part company with a supranational exercise in restricting independent freedoms, I will unlock my Twitter account again; It is far too restrictive to remain behind self-imposed bars. How long I survive this hostile environment is going to be a matter of chance; no doubt I am already on a number of blocklists and if Ahmed and his brownshirts get their way that will be all they need to remove me from the platform altogether. Be careful what you wish for, you who see hate in every disagreement; be very careful indeed, for you may be next.
(If you have got this far and you agree, endorse, or just want to share, there is a link below which you can use to spread the word. Many thanks in anticipation.)
(If you have got this far and you agree, endorse, or just want to share, there is a link below which you can use to spread the word. Many thanks in anticipation.)
Thursday, 30 January 2020
As Brexit Day approaches and the Remoaners become ever more frantic in their garment-rending and shrill in their spiralling invective, it is curious that they need to tell themselves that it is the Leavers who are somehow triggered. Possibly – and they have demonstrated this propensity many times – they don’t understand what the word means. Let’s face it, they have never understood the concept of leaving, somehow mistaking the clear instruction of the electorate, for a far more vague and woolly half-exit, inventing soft-Brexits and Brexit-lites to somehow keep their dream alive.
But triggered? The Cambridge English Dictionary (Oxford English is so discredited these days) defines triggered as “experiencing a strong emotional reaction of fear, shock, anger, or worry…” I see no such fear, shock anger or worry among the Leavers. What I do see is Brexiteers increasingly bemused by the antics of the woke joke that is Remain. Bemused and amused at the lengths some will claim they will go to keep their dream alive long after roseate fingered dawn has intruded on their slumbers. I say claim because some of their declarations are way beyond the borders of fantasy:
They will refuse to handle the Brexit 50p; who even looks at the coins in their pocket? They will turn the lights off at eleven o’clock tomorrow night for ten minutes; to what purpose, other than to signal their defeat? They will continue to fly the EU flag, which jingoistic behaviour is one of the things they say they abhor the most in patriotic Little Englanders. They will get Ode to Joy – a good old Hitlerian jingle – to Number One on Friday. They will refuse to conduct business with anybody supporting Brexit; how will they know?
Meanwhile the cheerleaders for the Fourth Reich – Femi ‘tits’ Oluwole, Steve ‘Dave’ Bray, Mad Madeleina Kay ‘Alas’tair Campbell, Jolyon ‘Foxy’ Maugham and on and on and on continue to predict doom and disaster, swear allegiance to a political construct and generally behave like pre-teens denied Internet access and ice cream. If nothing else you might think they would display some signs of embarrassment, but no; Eyes tight shut they clench their little fists, stamp their tiny feet and thcweam and thcweam and thcweam.
If nobody is studying this then they really should consider it because there at least a dozen PhDs to be had from it. Is there something we are missing? I mean, maybe there is a prize for the biggest, the most outlandish, the most inventive expression of pain? The biggest hurty? Or maybe the joke really is on us and the plethora of parody accounts apeing them has become indistinguishable from the real thing? Either way I still don’t feel triggered; do you?
I hope tomorrow night’s party is well attended and peaceful, although the majority of Leavers will more likely mark the occasion by turning off the lights and going to bed, possibly after a civilised night cap. I do hope the celebrations are not disturbed or provoked by remainers continuing to protest at a done deal, long after the whistle has been blown. And I do hope that none of them carry out some of the more outlandish acts of self-harm they have threatened… unless, of course, they are funny!
Wednesday, 29 January 2020
The sickly yellow fluorescent lights in the canteen made a harsh buzzing noise, like an angry wasp trapped in a dustbin, as the queue slowly shuffled towards the grimy servery. The usual fare was rapidly cooling and Winston knew that by the time he received his daily ration of unspecified meat it would be sitting in a sea of congealing fat, surrounding the soft mound of overcooked vegetables, or at least what passed for vegetables in the Ministry of Truth cafeteria.
“Morning, Smith!” A fat, jowly blob of a man, always unnervingly cheery, greeted Winston as he joined the queue. “See the game last night?” Winston looked around him quickly and with dread in his eyes. Big Brother was always watching, always listening and always on the alert for words and deeds which fell outside the approved list. Only yesterday had come the announcement: Football banter bad. Winston tried to hush his interlocutor but it was too late; two men in party uniforms had dragged George – that was his name – from the line and began laying into him with batons.
The background murmur in the canteen became silent as everybody obediently turned to watch the beating. Nobody was quite sure if they should join in, cheer, or just stare with hopeless eyes at the inevitability of such punishment. But one thing they did know was they must be seen to witness the act; a good party member must show no squeamishness and be prepared to turn in their neighbour, their friends, their family, if any indiscretions came to light. Big Brother might be watching over you, but only you can protect yourself from harm, if necessary by using those you hold dear as human shields.
Seventy years ago, George Orwell wrote the dystopic nightmare, 1984, a work which has become synonymous with the worst excesses of party politics and the intrusion of the state into every part of your life, even your thoughts. Today, it is the go-to reference for every barmy utterance from the Joy Police. Opposite meanings are a trope in the world of Ingsoc, so you all know what is really meant by joy.
We are supposed to avoid offending anybody of a different hue, culture, religion, accent, gender identity, sexual orientation or philosophy, either deliberately or by accident. We are expected to anticipate that people may perceive offence where none was intended and we are minded to curb our tendency to use micro-aggressions. So subtle are such slights that sometimes even those on the lookout for harm don’t manage to nip them in the bud; instead they must pore over every sentence, every phrase, every roll of the eyes, interpreting the maliciousness through the lens of white privilege.
Thus it came as no surprise that on Monday Ann Francke, Chief Executive Officer of the Chartered Management Institute appeared on the Today programme to berate us about office football talk. Why? Why, because it is not inclusive enough and may alienate those who have no interest in football. Even worse, it could lead onto – are you ready for this – banter. As we all know by now banter and what she referred to as ‘laddish culture’ is literally Hitler.
In a way I guess we can seek out the positives here and realise that if this is what the CMI is getting exercised over, then all of the other problems must be solved. The devil makes work for idle hands to do and I can only imagine that the very acme of idle handedness was responsible for this. Perhaps they could turn their attention to the hate crime of women talking about babies and reality shows in the workplace? Or better yet, run these genius ideas past a living, breathing human being before parading such idiocy for all to see.
Monday, 27 January 2020
It is 70 years since Eric Arthur Blair’s death and the BBC has been marking it with an excellent series of radio essays, documentaries and dramatisations of his life. His massive contribution to political discourse can hardly be overstated, with many of the words and expressions he coined still in regular usage and his own pen name used to describe the worst excesses of totalitarianism. Newspeak, thought crime and doublethink are pressed into service every time somebody invokes the Orwellian dystopia that some see in the world today.
But his opus, 1984, a book which, despite its name being common currency for the intrusion of state into every facet of people’s lives, hasn’t been read or understood by anywhere near as many people as use its language, was not really the prophecy many lazily think it was. It was in fact, like all of his writing, commentary on what was actually happening, as he saw it. His telescreens weren’t futurology because television had been around for over a decade when he died, but if he was prophetic about anything the smart-spy in your pocket is a manifestation of his nightmare vision.
For all the warnings over extreme surveillance of citizens’ actions, sentiments and thoughts, those most engaged in ‘the resistance’, the young, are those most likely to carry the secret agents of IngSoc in their pockets. I use IngSoc as a cypher not for English Socialism, as in the book, but for big ‘S’ socialism generally. Because, wherever it has been attempted, small ‘s’ socialism soon becomes capital. S for socialism, S for state and when the state owns you, little good ever comes of it.
And it is little wonder that this always happens, given that socialism, in Marxist theory, is a mere transitional state between the overthrow of capitalism and the institution of full Communism. Orwell’s Animal Farm was a commentary on Stalin’s pursuit of exactly this goal and yet still the left refuse to see. Orwell was that rare breed, a leftie who opened his eyes and realised that the enemy was not ‘the right’. The enemy was/is totalitarianism from whatever source. He saw the Hitler/Stalin pact and realised that these supposed opposites were actually allies in the aim of bringing the people under control.
But what about the rise of the far right, the much-feared and vaunted evil which is said to be on the march across Europe? The terms left and right, politically, derive from the French Revolution where those loyal to the king sat on the right of the president of the National Assembly, while on the left were the revolutionaries; those who would wrest control from the monarchy. I see the logical extreme of rightism as the very opposite of the mobs of socialism, with all the power vested in one, divine-like entity, the king or queen.
Which means, in my book, that mass organised movements are necessarily of the left, of revolution of – in their eyes – progress away from the status quo. It stands for upheaval and it attracts ideologues. Whereas the right stands for tradition, small ‘c’ conservatism and stability and it attracts older, possibly wiser, certainly less volatile types. Those who are, perhaps, more satisfied with the society they have played a major hand in shaping to its present form, those with misty memories of the unformed thinking of their younger days.
George Orwell is watching you
The atomisation of society into more-finely defined identity groups plays into the grasping hands of both sides. The more you lot squabble amongst yourselves the more ‘they’ win and it is the left, almost universally, who spend the most time squabbling. This is one of the things that Orwell observed and one of the sources of his despair. He rejected the devotees of Marxism even as some of them would claim him for themselves. But his message, his thoughts, his warnings are for everybody. So, do yourself a favour and instead of forever accepting what others say he wrote, read the bloody book and work it out for yourselves.
Thursday, 23 January 2020
Depressing. That’s the state of national debate when, if you come out for either side you are instantly derided as offended, triggered, woke or worse. Every riposte has a counter, every argument a clever rebuff; it almost feels like each side has a committee convened to take apart every stance and find a way to remove its sting. Express amusement at the latest gender-bender nonsense and you are either a fascist pig, or else you are, somehow, a weeping snowflake. What? I was having a laugh with like-minded people, you berk. Burst out of your bubble, comes the reply.
Somebody has always coined a handy and usually derisory epithet to describe you, regardless of what you really are. And what are you, anyway? When ‘lefty-liberal snowflake’ and ‘neo-liberal Nazi’ coexist what does that say about plain old liberals? How do genuine liberals feel about this? (And more to the point, I have yet to read a consistent description of what a libertarian is, as opposed to what he thinks he is.) When Laurence Fox did what he did last week the Twittersphere erupted with lefties losing their shit and righties poking fun at them for it. But here we are, days later and now it’s the lefties saying the right are losing their shit and they are being precious snowflakes for doing so. It is the political debate equivalent of “You smell!” “No, YOU smell!”
And none of it gets us any closer to working out how we continue to function as a society. From my angle, those who see offence in every off-colour utterance every departure from the sacred script of diversity and equality are the unhinged ones, but what about seeing it from their side? By attacking every perceived ‘woke’ fragility we distance ourselves from ever understanding where others are coming from. Likewise by their opposing everything which is not in their own script as fascism, they let the actual fascists (all eleven of them) off the hook.
Seeing racism as inherent in white skin, speaking of the fallacious white privilege that few of us will ever feel, waging war on the fictitious far-right, the left are making a mockery of free speech by insisting that we must never speak of these things. But the 1% ‘rule’ is utterly ridiculous. If one of your great-great-great grandfathers was a doughty ‘Blackamoor’ you may now identify as black… even though you are 31/32 white. Oh, come on, this means you are literally erasing white ethnicity before our eyes.
This is monumentally stupid and reduces every argument to ad hominem fallacies; the message must be corrupt because the messenger is a moron. And he is a moron not because of any demonstrable lack of intelligence, but simply because his message is off the reservation. When you can’t believe news, from almost any source you have to fall back on what you know. But when you won’t believe any news except what reinforces what you believe, what you know is worthless.
At some point the country really has to begin the process of rebuilding the national dialogue and to do that, both sides have to – and here’s that awful word – compromise; we can’t afford to do otherwise. So, in that spirit, I’ll start. Without capitalism we would be horribly poorer, but under capitalism there are winners and losers; we have to look after the losers. Socialism has no real mechanism to improve prosperity for the losers, but is enormously successful at caring about doing so. The old centrist parties seemed to understand this and I suspect that Johnson’s administration does, too.
I’m not asking the left to get behind Boris Johnson. Neither am I asking the right to completely trust him with all the policies they want implemented. But while you are at each other’s throats and while Her Majesty’s Opposition is incapable of voicing a single coherent syllable of effective opposition, how about a bit of a truce between the rest of us until we can see where this new government is actually leading us, as opposed to where we have already imagined it might? I’m not holding my breath.
Thursday, 16 January 2020
I won’t be going to the celebration on January 31st – I just don’t do that sort of thing - and I really couldn’t care either way about Big Ben or fireworks; they can do their damnedest to dampen spirits, but then they are missing the entire point. Spirit isn’t encapsulated in pyrotechnics and bongs. To the half of the country (actually considerably fewer) who steadfastly refuse to countenance marking the latest Brexit Day, I have to ask: Why do you care? It has nothing to do with you. Stay at home, drown your sorrows, but don't imagine for one second that your petulant cause is noble.
It is continuity remain, as if there was still a cause to fight for. They’re all out there: Yasmin Alibhai Brown’s sour-face performances on – well every fucking chat show in the land; Femi, who imagines he still has relevance; that idiot Lib Dem peer who sees 1930s Germany in his stupid fat head and all the minions who will attempt to overthrow any celebration by demonstrating in the hope they can provoke violence from the leavers in order to prove their thesis. What is wrong with you all?
They are afraid, of course, that the nasty, small-minded, Union Flag waving xenophobes will be out there to gloat. Well, why not let them gloat for one night? It’s not like you haven’t spent the best part of four years daily hurling invective, decrying motives and generally behaving like pantomime villains pretending to be princesses. You are baffled by why we want to leave, we get that. Whenever we have explained what sovereignty means to us you have refused to accept its value. We know you are afraid, when we are optimistic; we know you are filled with hatred, while we just want to help you come to terms. But for pity’s sake, just give us one day.
But this is a part of a wider battle. It wages daily across the airwaves, on the internet, in the grand houses of western government and quite keenly in the mosques and madrassas of the developing world; death to the west. Don’t upset the ethnics, we are told. Don’t mention Christmas in case it upsets muslims. And don’t you dare use your white privilege (which only people of colour and the enlightened can see, of course) to mount any kind of platform. Anything ‘not British’ is to be celebrated and every ethnic festival receives a warm and heartfelt tweet from Jeremy Corbyn, whose life work has been to bring down the country and the system which gave him everything.
Who needs fireworks?
The socialist rallying cry used to be “Workers of the world unite – you have nothing to lose but your chains!” But you simply swapped one set of chains for several others. Over the last few decades an ideological opposition to every freedom gained by the advancement of the west has been denigrated as somehow being at the expense of the rest. Well it just isn’t true. So if you wish, get out there and celebrate this latest new freedom; freedom from remote, foreign government; independence. Resist, overcome, enjoy and sound a new battle cry: “Brexiteers of the world unite - you have nothing to lose but your shame!”
Saturday, 11 January 2020
So, war is over, for now, and much to the distaste of the left everywhere, Trump’s decision to splat the rat turns out to have been rather a good gambit. With the admission of guilt over the downing of the Ukrainian 737, Iran is back in its bad boy kennel and elsewhere it’s smiles all round. So, for the radical, woke, progressive set it’s back to the climate change business with protests and marches popping up all over the place, not least in defiance at the Australian government’s impotence in the face of fires ‘caused by climate change’… and matches.
But here’s the thing. Lobbying governments to spend money for large causes is, A) often rather pointless, and B) not necessarily any way to get useful things done. A) because governments famously ignore protests, unless an election which they might loses is imminent. B) because there are far better ways of being a ‘climate change activist’ if you want to do more than just be bloody annoying. Seriously, you think that going around shouting at people with whom you disagree is a good example to set your kids?
But, you ask, what can I, an individual, do, if everybody else is doing nothing? True, one individual, acting alone, is largely pointless, you might think. But millions of individuals, acting individually, can effect massive change. It’s how economies work, it’s why your food costs less than at any time in history. It’s how you came to have smartphones. And if you used them more smartly you could educate yourselves and communicate with others, not to badger people who really don’t care about you, but to actually do something. You know, be active in your ism.
For a start, instead of leaping into your 4x4 or a train, bus or taxi and travelling to the capital to wander about aimlessly, shouting inane slogans at buildings whose occupants are not listening; thereafter to retire to a massive corporate coffee shop to congratulate yourself on your impotence, why not stay at home and put the time and money you would otherwise have wasted into something which makes sense. Insulate your loft, sort out your draughty doors and windows and consider whether they way you use energy in your home is efficient.
If everybody did that, we would not only create a near-instant change for good collectively, but individually we might even be a bit better off. Do all those lights need to be on? Can you convert to LEDs? Does the heating need to be on when you’re not there? Can you bear to turn the thermostat down a couple of degrees? Use that smartphone to google energy efficiency and, as Gandhi said, be the change you want to see in the world.
Food production is energy intense. Eat less and get fit and better still, don’t waste it. Just as every time you hit the brakes you are throwing away some of the energy you used to drive too fast, every time you throw away uneaten food you are a part of that massive problem. (Of course, some jobs in mass food production may be lost, but if you buy less and of better quality, welfare standards, etc, that might create employment in more ethical methodology.)
Recycling is also energy intense and often ineffective. This is one reason why they charge you for plastic bags; use fewer and pay a penalty when you forget. But why not, instead of chucking stuff away, consider whether you can re-use it? Do you need quite so many clothes, shoes, gadgets… stuff? Your life (my life, all of us) is full of unnecessary stuff. You want to resist global capitalism and save the planet? Stop feeding it then; two birds, one stone.
They say charity begins at home. In this age of corporate charity where your contributions disappear into the gold-lined pockets of despots and CEOs, this maxim could be the one that saves you. All of that effort expended on massive movements which then become proxies – they always do - for political aims with which you may not agree or understand, could be far better expended on yourself. You really want to save the planet? Physician, heal thyself.
Sunday, 5 January 2020
It’s hard work, all this moralising. I mean who is right and who is wrong and all that. What makes a good person and what makes them bad? And of course, in that simple concept which everybody must recognise is revealed the lie of equality. How can a murderer be ‘equal’ to a philanthropist? And so we get to the thorny business of moral equivalence, whereby your theology is equal to mine, or their culture is superior to ours, etc.
But it really is quite simple. The Ten Commandments might have no force in law but as a moral code they’re not so bad, are they? Would they work today?
You shall have no other gods before Me. Given that one culture’s omnipotent deity must, by simple logic, be the same god as that of all the other monotheistic religions, surely those who believe should embrace a common understanding. But as this seems to be problematic for one particular religion, perhaps they aren’t so confident in their beliefs as they insist. Maybe this could be revised to: “Worship who you want and don’t be a dick about it”.
You shall make no idols. Well what a boring world that would make. Not sure I could support that; no art, basically. Luckily the ancient world and Christianity ignored that one, then. Maybe the commandments are more pick’n’mix than prescription? How about You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain. Good god, no. That way lies the kind of blasphemy laws a certain culture would like to introduce to the modern world. Scratch that.
Keep the Sabbath day holy? Nope; far too much stuff to do. I wouldn’t be able to write this, for a start, which some may see as a bonus. Next? Honour your father and your mother. Yes, this is a keeper, although in the society which has been allowed to evolve, mostly through neglect, a great many have only a tenuous association with any father figure. We’re not doing so well with the first five, but the Old Testament saved the best ones for last.
Who could legitimately argue against keeping the prohibitions on murder, adultery, theft and coveting? Okay, I’ll confess that adultery is not the sin it once was, indeed in public life it almost seems to be de rigueur, but it’s not something to be encouraged. And all of this leaves us with: You shall not bear false witness against your neighbour, arguably the sole purpose of social media. I’m not sure we will ever get a grip on this.
So where does that get us? A quick summary: Some people are better than other people, that’s an absolute fact. And while some cultures are better than others – another indisputable fact – all societies have some basis in law and tradition similar to the ten commandments. If we could all just crack on and heed the secular versions of these edicts - and not be a dick about it – the world might just spin a little more freely on its axis. I’m not holding my breath.
Saturday, 4 January 2020
I thought I was going to be better in 2020. Not to judge people quite so quickly; not to wade in and be dismissive before considering the other side’s point of view; to respect firmly held beliefs, however out of whack. But no matter how much you want to reserve judgment, some ideas need challenging. Yes, I know I could just ignore it, but where would be the fun in that? And with such rich pickings for my snidey view of the world to seize on, I would be denying myself some excellent opportunities.
So, where do we start? How about the idea that ‘Ethical Veganism’ should have the same protections as religion? Well, for one, I thought we had a secular society in which people were allowed to follow their religious beliefs but not be afforded special privileges because of them. Maybe I’m wrong but isn’t there only one religion today which qualifies for such special treatment? Ipso facto, veganism is the equivalent of islam; that should please the mullahs.
This case alone illustrates the ridiculous position our judiciary have put themselves in; a more cynical me might suggest that the legal profession has a vested interest in prosecuting highly lucrative nonsense such as this. As ‘a nice idea’ veganism has much to recommend it; don’t exploit animals, I can see that. But as a philosophy it is a crock. Worthy of respect? An ethical vegan refused to use buses because insects die on their windscreens. Well, what about the ground you walk on, does that not involve crushing insects? Or the microbes you inhale with every breath? And how many insects -and other pests - died during the production of the vegetables you worship?
And don’t wind turbines kill birds and bats? Surely it would be unethical to consume the electricity they produce? It just doesn’t hold up at all. But wait, you’re thinking, being vegan doesn’t equate to being Green! Doesn’t it? Really? You see, what might just qualify for religious philosophy status is ‘The Left’ as a concept. And so religious is it that it even has a caste system. A dynamic one, admittedly, where one day the status of vegan is higher than, say, the status of transgender, but this flux is just them sorting out their theology. Mark my words, before long they will have a book
One part of it will deal with how much adoration should be laid at the feet of murderous regimes, such as the one Qasem Soleimani, (also spelled Qassem Suleimani or Qassim Soleimani – see how sneaky these fuckers are?) killed for. The current furore over the Donald Trump-ordered drone assassination is an excellent example of the divide in society that lost Labour the recent election. For the strike is the majority of decent, hard-working, right-thinking people, including many Iranians. Against? Well the usual suspects from the political caste of The Left, amongst who are many vegans, LGBT folk, etc. (It’s not an infallible correlation, but it’s a bloody good bet!)
Striding into this battlefield comes the loathed – by The Left – figure of Dominic Cummins. They are variously up in arms, dismissive or contemptuous of his desire to break free from the Westminster circle-jerk of self-congratulatory woke claptrap. He, rightly, sees the identity-driven, human resources-led approach as part of the problem. And if he wants to recruit weirdos and misfits to break the stranglehold then I, for one, will support him in that ambition.
Another thing The Left as religion has is its maturity. You see, the so-called progressive agenda is now the tired old establishment in its own right. The chanting, the marches, the constant protest. The dissatisfaction, the victim-pleading, the bleating on and on and on, forever repeating words which mean nothing to most of us. The progressives are now the old order, slipping into history as surely as the seas claim the cliffs. They used to hold aloft the red book. In the future will they clutch the book of Jeremy?
The Left truly WILL eat itself
This is where the divide in society truly is; On the one side the proponents of all the stuff of hobby-politics. On the other, those who are for the pragmatic business of getting on, accepting the outcomes of fairly fought elections and building a consensus. Where the old order, the order of Corbyn occupies an eroding platform based on nebulous, unprovable concepts of equality and diversity, believed by fewer and fewer grizzled old class warriors, a truly new order beckons. The next decade might just see an unprecedented push for a truly decent society; one that actually does work for the many, not the few.
Wednesday, 1 January 2020
So here it is, 2020, everybody’s having fun, to paraphrase Slade. Actually, in contrast to the Christmases of my earlier years, when fun really was the object, along with peace and goodwill of course, this season was just a continuum of the same old enmities played out against the backdrop of booze and Brexit. I may be misty-eyed about this but back when we only really had one culture it somehow seemed easier to put aside the grievances for a few days at and just get on with each other.
Only this morning an avowed leftie @SocialistSuzy jumped into a discussion on Twitter about the resurgent trending hashtag #OhJeremyCorbyn and how indicative this was of blinkered thinking. Corbyn lost, he will never fully accept that he lost, he is convinced he ‘won the argument’ and he has been putting out propaganda shorts as if he was campaigning for a general election. Even his detractors actually credit him with generally being a good campaigner, but to continue to do so after such a disastrous rout is simply denying reality.
Anyway, our tame lefty trotted out the usual tropes; people didn’t know what was good for them (she does, though), stupid people voted for their own downfall, the masses (99%, apparently) supported Saint Jeremy, therefore, he could have only lost because of the media onslaught on his character. They do say you can fool some of the people all of the time. The ‘discussion’ ended, predictably enough, with Suzy blocking me. All the animus was from her side, but to save her from having to experience a contrary opinion, she chose the coward’s way out.
I hope this won’t set the pattern for the coming year, this refusal to face reality, this inabilty to engage. When even Gary Lineker has come out and finally accepted the referendum result, surely we can persuade more lefties down from their high horses and lofty moralistic positions to have a national conversation? We have a big enough battle ahead trying to forge a working relationship with the EU without having to also prosecute open warfare in the country at large.
Boris Johnson’s message for the new year was one of hope, of inclusiveness of coming together and making this country what it could be. Whatever you think of him personally, he has the necessary charisma to bring people on board in a way that the borderline sociopath, Jeremy Corbyn, never did. Had Labour won the election you can guarantee that we would have years ahead of internecine squabbling, ineffective policy and deep divisions in our society. Under Johnson, who knows what might be achieved?
This is what we escaped
A new start? Absolutely. The twenties could be the decade of Britain, but it won’t be unless we make it. We should have at least five unfettered years with unprecedented access to the hearts and minds of the population. Interconnectivity means that government can talk to the governed in a way that was just not possible before. While the losers will spit and snarl the winners should be gracious and accepting and find ways to engage as many as possible in a forward-looking plan for the future. I never thought I’d say this but perhaps we should all strive to be more like Boris.