Meat

Well, I was going to write about the changing of the referendum question from yes/no to remain/leave. Seriously, the question is now planned to be “remain or leave” the EU? Have they considered how this may bias the outcome towards those in favour of ‘leaving it as it is’? And ‘remain’? Maybe that’s a harbinger of times post-EU when, once the UK has led the way, few others will remain? What about those who will ‘remain’ in the leave-it-be camp? Not really thought through is it; who’s surprised?

But no, something much less important has come up, so I’ll bang on about that for a bit. A body has been photographed, washed up on a beach. You all know the one, which is a bit odd, really, because before him thousands of other children, unnamed children, have been killed, maimed, executed, murdered, butchered, mutilated, tortured, raped, bombed, mined, burned alive and you didn’t really take all that much notice. Why did it take this one single image to get you all going?

And when I say ‘going’, boy, is that an understatement. The world has gone mad over this beautifully framed Athena poster death. For some of you it will be the defining image of your lives; personally I prefer the blonde scratching her bum on the tennis court but hey, each to his own. While nobody should be gleeful at the sight of dead flesh I have to say I am disappointed by the degree to which many have chosen to take this personally. This is what I mean when I say ‘mad’. You didn’t know him, he will feel no more pain and there will be many more to follow him; why this one? Why didn’t you identify with the 1400+ serially raped girls in Rotherham who may suffer as a result for the rest of their lives?

Humans are irrational beings – not me, obviously, I’m a dead-hearted monster; that’s the nature of pragmatism – but there is something worryingly wrong with this crowd hysteria, evoked by a single photograph splashed across the entire world’s press. Every political Svengali would be wanking himself into oblivion if he’d thought of it but this is a thing of accident. Much as in art, there are many who can spread the acrylics across the canvas but few who can push the buttons and this is the Mona Lisa of mind control. Watch me do it in the last paragraph with a single word... 

Politicians, however, are made of sterner stuff and if they can’t generate the mass outcry themselves they certainly know how to exploit it. The parade of crocodile tears has been shameful. A good day to bury bad news indeed – and yes, I did think about typing ‘bury’ and then typed it anyway; see how cruel I am? Which brings me to Twitter: People whose primary interest is second-rate football and have never given the refugee crisis a moment’s thought are all of a sudden beatified and become one with the heavenly father. So saintly are they now that, in response to my stating that I am unmoved, they wish on me a horrible and painful death.

Feel the love...

Some people really do believe they have the monopoly on caring, don’t they? And so exclusively caring are they that anybody who doesn’t see what they see must suffer for their shortness of vision. There is no compassion like their personal compassion and the only way to express it is right there on a handy internet sleeve. If you’ve formed an opinion based on that dead kid, then it’s not really your opinion at all; you have been manipulated. But it’s worked; David Cameron has caved – like he was always going to; like he will on the EU ‘renegotiation’; like he has every single time public support has threatened to wane. And he didn’t seem to hesitate in using meat on a beach to justify it.

The Losing Side

I may be wrong - it happened once before - but I don't get all the politicking around David Cameron's so-called ‘surprise defeat' in the Commons yesterday. What I saw was a prolonged debate with plenty to think about, followed by a vote which was – if there was any surprise at all - much closer than I expected. The narrow result of 285-to-272 against the motion reflected a persuasive performance by David Cameron rather than, in my view, any support for Ed Miliband or his muddled message. If our Parliament truly reflected the mood in the country the outcome should have been more like two-to-one against.

Sure the doves are out, chanting victory and singing outside their tepees, ululating in joy and hugging the hell out of any tree in range, but nobody except the BBC is hugging Ed Miliband today. I expect he is waiting for his summons to Len McCluskey’s office to find out if he keeps his prefect badge for another term.

Yet today’s papers are full of views that this spells the end for Cameron. I really don’t see that. Why? He didn’t do what history suggests Tony Blair did and take the country into an illegal, unwinnable war on ‘sexed-up’ evidence. If anything, Cameron’s term in office may come to be remembered as the time that Britain finally gave up wanting to play world soldiers and got on with democratically rebuilding its own nation state. I only say ‘may’ because I believe there is still much to do.

There may be many reasons for Cameron to stand down as party leader, but I’m not convinced this was the decider. I’ve not been a great fan, but his performance yesterday was, I thought, impressive in huge contrast to the push-me-pull-you antics of Mr Ed. It is reported that some Labour MPs ended the day still unsure as to what Miliband’s position actually was.

So it seems we’re not going to war in Syria any time soon. That should be a decision to celebrate. It seems the much-vaunted but always abused ‘special relationship’ may be in doubt. Good. It seems like a victory, albeit a narrow one, for democracy; at least our version of it. And if democracy won on war, we might just have a chance of it winning in peace; it’s about time. Maybe now we can get on with deploying a bit of democracy at home and sort out our far more important relationship with Europe.

I wish you'd won.               I know. Loser!

Ed Miliband is today being bullishly myopic, claiming a victory and calling for Cameron to consider his position. Be that as it may, I know which of them looked like a leader yesterday and which looked like a bewildered youth way out of his depth. There definitely was a loser yesterday, but I don’t think it was David Cameron.

Jeux Sans Frontiers

There once was a great country called Britain and although the ‘great’ was added to distinguish the island containing England, Scotland and Wales from Brittany on the continent, in view of its former world be-striding position as a huge empire, many of its citizens and admirers took the great to be a compliment. Certainly when I was growing up, nobody ever took the time to disabuse me of this notion and it seems many today still believe that ‘Great’ is who we are, not where we are. It’s part of the problem.

Where once we needed a strong and efficient military to project firepower around the globe in support of our own colonial interests now, after a succession of world wars, trade wars and cringe-worthy appeasements of foreign powers our armed forces are stretched beyond what would normally be considered a joke. Nineteenth century cartoons often portrayed other foreign powers as a native dugout sent against a British Man o’ War. This is how the Royal Navy now, realistically, compares against the US Fleets (plural).

We no longer have an empire, but surely we still have a little bit of dignity? Enough, perhaps, to recognise that if we did end up going into Syria it would be, once again, as a flea on the USA’s back. Belligerent John Bull is no longer the towering world figure he once was – he is a little old retired fella in his tool shed, wanting more than anything else to be left alone to do quiet things. As Britain’s talent deserts our shores in droves, to be more than replaced by new colonists there will soon be nobody left to demand bloody action in foreign fields. Some ask if we even have enough firepower to repel a foreign invasion. No need. Look around you; it is a fait accompli.

All of which is why I am relieved that it seems we are not, for now, about to plunge into a prolonged and unaffordable conflict with Syria and its indeterminate allies. I am glad to see the climb-down from a David Cameron champing at the bit for his Tony Blair ‘legacy’ moment. And also a little bit annoyed at Labour’s prevarication throughout yesterday, playing party politics when several national interests were at stake and worse, threatening a simple abstention if they couldn’t get what they wanted – that’s like taking the ball away instead of playing the game. For a while, what was right for the people of Syria seemed the least important thing.

It’s good to see a decision in accord with (though almost certainly not because of) a decisive majority of UK citizens against action. But if clear evidence of the origin of chemical weapons had been, or is later found, I doubt very much that the democratic will of the people would hold much sway. Successive British Prime Ministers, including Mrs Thatcher, have too much been in thrall to the USA. Indeed it is this relationship that has hampered, probably more than others, our ability to get to grips with a priority far more important to our interests than Syria – Europe and our place inside or outside its cloying embrace.

So, I say “Phew”, for the moment. But there is another, far worse, outcome from all of this; one that has been overlooked in all the shouting and jostling. While politicians have been playing games with other nations' affairs has nobody considered the dread implication that possibly the worst thing about the whole Syria affair is that Diane Abbot will not now have to carry out her threat to resign?

Don't be late!

Sorry I’m a bit late today, but it’s not my fault. I have a medical condition that makes it literally impossible for me to meet deadlines. Yes it was diagnosed by a doctor. At least I assume it was a doctor; I was twenty minutes late for the appointment. What’s the condition called, you ask? Hang on while I find the paperwork… Yes, here it is, it’s just called ‘Chronic Lateness’. I know, you couldn’t make it up… although my ‘doctor’ appears to have done just that

Reported in the Daily Mail today is the strange case of Jim Dunbar, who has been late for everything in his life; work, holidays, first-dates, funerals – you name it, he’s been late for it. His chronic tardiness has been diagnosed as a medical condition, related to that other well-known imaginary ailment, ADHD, which is, of course, brilliant news. At last I know that my poor result in that crucial exam was simply because I was late to finish the paper; it wasn't my fault I ran out of time. It was medical, see? Not my fault at all.

In this world where we routinely refuse to condemn and correct what was formerly seen as aberrant behaviour this should come as no surprise at all. Thus a steady decline in rigorous educational outcomes can be dismissed by a whole series of lengthy, acronymic disorders and treated with suitable drugs, relegating teachers to junior nurses in the national lunatic asylums we used to refer to as ‘schools’.

Thus parental failings, antisocial behaviour, repeated offending, drug addiction, welfare dependency, wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy and gluttony can all be chalked up not to individual or collective failings, but regarded as the inevitable outcome of some sort of syndrome. And the list of such crippling diseases is ever added-to by an army of selfless practitioners, ready to diagnose yet another acronym on, if necessary, an individual basis.

Thus my chronic idleness is different from your chronic idleness because it has different letters in it and pity the poor worker with no label because he or she will have no excuse come the day they dare to throw a sickie because of some piffling excuse, such as a broken leg. Who wouldn't want to have a prescription that says they stay at home watching Jeremy Kyle and drinking White Ace cider not because they are worthless but because they are a bit poorly?

This explains so much. It explains New Labour’s inability to recognise the unaffordability of the welfare state and its failure to prevent major failings in some NHS Trusts. It explains why it took so long for Ed Miliband to grudgingly confess that its open door immigration policy had been incompletely thought through. Maybe the labels, inter alia of racist, sexist, Europhobe, homophobe, bigot and misogynist are actually not meant to be pejorative at all, but are simply the collective medical terms for an inability to recognise when a politician is right and you, little person, are wrong?

Tony Blair displays his horrific injuries

So relax, fellow sufferers, it really is not your fault. It’s a disease, plain and simple and such diseases affect not just the masses, but the great and the good. When Tony Blair says, from a billionaire’s yacht, that we should intervene in Syria, he is not being a war monger. Neither is he protecting his own not inconsiderable financial interest out of any form of greed. No, not at all. You see, dear Tony suffers from a terrible affliction which makes it impossible for him not to recommend the annihilation of thousands of foreigners on a regular and predictable basis. His syndrome is called Middle East Peace Envoy.

You cannot be Syrias?

You’re walking down the street and you see two hooded youths going at each other, being goaded on by other hooded youths. From where you are you can safely stand and watch… so you do. More people join the fray and although there are clearly opposing sides it’s not entirely obvious how many there are. Two, three, four even and what is more inexplicable is just what exactly the fight is about. Now there are casualties, knives have been drawn and wrecking bars are being wielded.

You have no idea who these people are, what they want or what they are truly fighting about but you do have a gun. Do you, A) Charge in, firing wildly, hoping they will stop? B) Pick a side and lay into the opposition with your mighty weapon? C) Wait and see – if there is a winning side, should you help it finish off the others, or should you level the field by supporting the underdog?

Then one side appears to have used a weapon considered even more ‘evil’ than bombs and bullets and scimitars and stones. Chemical weapons of mass destruction have reared their ugly heads once again. Does this ring any bells?

There is a saying attributed variously to Churchill/Lincoln/Twain/Eliot/Johnson? That “It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt “. In Syria perhaps we should be heeding this sage advice.

I rarely comment on Middle Eastern affairs because, quite frankly, I don’t understand them. This I have in common with every US and British & European foreign minister, prime minister, defence secretary… How do I know this to be true? Because even the participants do not understand. They are driven blindly to war by ingrained instincts which predispose them to believe in an almighty and vengeful god, who they call peaceful and good even as they hack each other to pieces in his name.

This is an instinct we are slowly outgrowing in the west, but it could take a few more centuries of theological evolution before the islamics finally drop the veil and let fall the scales from their very scaly eyes. That’s if they haven’t killed each other before then.

The Telegraph reports, “Britain faces a choice between military strikes against Syria or allowing tyrants around the world to use chemical weapons ‘with impunity’, William Hague has said. However, Mr Hague risked angering MPs by suggesting that it may not be necessary to recall Parliament prior to launching military action.” Meanwhile President Assad has said in an interview with a Russian newspaper that any intervention in his country was doomed to fail.

But is the supposed chemical attack a put-up job? In this world of conspiracy theory and counter conspiracy theory who knows what is really real? And is it possible, as some suggest, that behind the scenes various jihadists are trying to foment another great war to help usher in a new, islamic world order?

Our lands are filled with people with a real or imagined stake in this region and their young men are becoming increasingly radicalised. The hands of our security services are full as they impotently try to prevent amateur terrorist attacks on our own soil. While muslims are free to fight other muslims we are damned if we are complicit in the demise of a single islamic soul, however much good we think we are doing.

Twitter is alight with warmongers and naysayers and deniers and pacifists. Not one of them has the answer but at least the more sensible recognise that they don’t.

@David_V_Smith said “To say that the use of force is never the answer is as bone headed as saying use of force is always the answer. “

@ChrisClandestin said “To anyone who thinks a Syria intervention is justified, please cast your mind back to the tricks, lies & propaganda that took us into Iraq.”

So what do we do? I know I’m always right but I’m fucked if I know. I simply do not possess the necessary information to make a reasoned judgement. You’ll excuse me then while I stay out of this debate and get on with looking after Number One. 

Goodies and Baddies

In amongst all these world changing coup, counter-coup, insurgency, revolution, resignation shenanigans it’s hard to tell right from wrong, left from right, up from down. The world is a complicated place and it’s high time we straightened it all out. We should make it easier for any one of us to tell the goodies from the baddies, just like in the golden days of Hollywood. The goodies could wear white and the baddies could wear black… decorated with a handy and stylish skull and daggers motif. Or wear a badge. Or have a facial tattoo,or even hide their baddie faces.

Good old Auntie Beeb has been doing this on our behalf for years. I’m surprised it’s taken this long for somebody else to notice, but then if we’re too thick to work it out for ourselves I suppose we need to be drawn pictures. Nigel Farage drew attention to the practice in this interesting piece for the Daily Telegraph (Why do they never ask me… and what are their rates?) about the recently revealed bias of the BBC extending his observations to drama where, “ those who oppose mass migration are bigots, stupid, physically ugly, those on the other side are sensitive, beautiful, intelligent.”

We all go about bearing coded identification already, actually. The way we dress, the way we behave and in particular the way we pass on those traits to our dependents and so forth. Notwithstanding the odd out-of-character outburst, first impressions are a bloody good way of deciding ‘U’or ‘non-U’ and these days you need to be more aware than ever of your audience before revealing your allegiances. The bird in the burka? Probably not going to be ultra-receptive to a tirade against immigration, even if she was born here. The kid with the can of Stella at ten in the morning? Unlikely, I’d have thought, to respond well to a Tebbitarian, get-on-your-bike, pep talk.

Of course, part of the problem is we don’t carry around mirrors with which to ‘check our privileges’ before we engage in what was “only words, your honour” and we are often blind to the shortcomings of our own tribe. While sympathy might be easy enough to rustle up, or at least fake, empathy is a poorly developed part of the human psyche, especially in approximately fifty per cent of the world’s population. Just as we think all the Chinese look alike, so they also believe we are indistinguishable from one another. And it’s the same for non-physical expressions of where we belong too - cultural norms, innit?

No wonder the country’s in a mess. To the hot-house-raised gilded elite in Westminster who only ever see an outsider as a potential vote we all look the same to them. They don’t see what we see when we are swamped in ‘diversity’ and they seem genuinely mystified that we can’t just rub along as they pretend to do. There is a name for inbuilt human preference for those who look, dress, act and think like oneself but to keep it simple, a much shorter version is generally used. They call it racism.

Those who prefer the company of the left recognise and applaud the heroic workers’ struggle against oppression and believe in fairness and equality. Those who align with the right see only oppression in leftist big government, resulting in unfairness and squalor. What’s needed is a middle way, one that sees liberty and democracy in equal measure; we could call them, I dunno, lib-dems? (*irony klaxon*) But wait, even democracy fails if the demos is insufficiently informed and educated to be able to operate it. Pull the wrong levers and you get Egypt, where a democratically elected government has had to be overthrown by military action. This is harder than it looks...

Boo? Yay? I dunno... It's behiiiind you!

The problem for Egypt & Syria and all those emerging from the dark ages is now abundantly clear; if even THEY can’t tell the goodies from the baddies how can we decide which side to help? This is clearly a job for the wardrobe and makeup department because right now they all look like baddies to me.

Damned if we do, damned if we don't.

Syria? Almost the only thing I know with absolute certainty about Syria is that it will all go horribly wrong. Why wouldn't it? Rarely do foreign policy favours bring the reciprocation we hope for and whereas we might have all sorts of plans to get involved my guess is nobody has even an inkling of how long it will last, what the outcome will be and how in the world we will get out. One thing is guaranteed though; we will make yet more enemies and it’s odds-on that yet more British troops will end up dead.

And it will all be the fault of middle-aged white men. Again. I now heartily agree with all the clamour for quotas – let’s get women, representatives of all races and religions and at least tokens of every special interest group into government and let THEM fuck it all up, because fuck it up they will. The country is screwed because the politically correct pursuit of diversity at all costs means we no longer have any cultural norms and in the absence of norms anything goes. But we middle-aged white men will still get all the blame… for everything.

Multiculturalism, radical feminism, hate crime legislation, the relentless pursuit of nebulous equality by any means, welfare state dependency, child centred education, uncontrolled borders, monocultural ghettoes, hands-off policing, marginalisation of British identity and banning of conkers are all labelled as ‘progressive’, while every white middle-aged bloke questioning the wisdom of such polices is called reactionary… as if that was ‘a bad thing’.

I wouldn't mind so much if we were just ignored but, not only do we get the blame we also come in for ridicule against which we have no defence because it’s all our fault and we have to suck it up: The black guys point and laugh ‘cause we got no style. We can say stuff like that because, obviously, we are all racists as well. According to Lee Jasper and Diane Abbott only white people can be racist – but they surely don’t include women in that because women have the ickle babies and are therefore sacrosanct.

The feminists blame us for their having this onerous responsibility and form themselves into Angry Vagina militias (Thank you, Twitter’s @IvorGrumble)  and when Nick Ross so much as mentions the R- word he is vilified because as a white male he has absolutely no right to have an opinion on this or any other matter involving a woman’s body. I can almost imagine a future when all women adopt the burka not because of our terrible male oppression but as a reaction against it. We are monsters after all, aren't we?

But, see, here we are in reality quietly getting on with stuff. Not getting in anybody’s way, not doing anything to actually upset anybody – if anything, going out of our way to integrate into society and not cause offence by our mere existence. The bad stuff is not the fault of ALL of us; that is down to the actions of an unrepresentative radical minority who pass laws, control policy and drive the economy. We’d say sorry if it made any difference. But it won’t make any difference, will it?

 Yes, yes, the white middle-age, middle class blokes are whinging again; it's practical all you ever hear from this entitlement-obsessed, marginalised ethnic group. But all we really want is to be allowed to fit in and quietly get on with making stuff work. We aren't the bad guys here, but if we’re upsetting so many people in so many ways we must be doing something right. So fuck it,we may as well wade into Syria because if we don't that will be our fault as well.