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. 

Breaking Badly

Once upon a time, all American television used to be easy to decode; the goodies wore white, the baddies wore black and in the end truth, justice and the American way prevailed. Lantern-jawed heroes fought armed assailants with their bare fists and came out with barely a scratch as the police arrived to mop up the scene and the token broad fell into the hero’s arms. The credits rolled as rousing music sent them on their way, silhouettes against a setting sun. The End. Buy our peanut butter; you’ll be a better person for it.

Over here in Britain during the cold war we only got to see the best of US television and that was bad enough – by all accounts some of the output during the fifties and sixties was execrable – but, oblivious to the entirely obvious Reds-under-the-beds message we lapped it up and no doubt picked up the morality tales along the way. Why not; it was entirely compatible with our own Christian-lite sensibilities and just like the ‘hidden’ sermons the screen itself was in black and white. Happy days, they say.

Then it all got rather complicated. As audiences grew bored, shades of grey were introduced. As more liberal views took hold, good and bad merged together to confuse and distort and most of all to keep you watching (and buying the product). Suddenly you were rooting for the bad guy; suddenly the pillars of society looked a lot less solid and the outcomes of the struggle a lot less certain. Necessary steps to get us to Breaking Bad, a show where the bad guys are the reason we watch.

A meth-head loser, an ex-cop who kills to order and a Machiavelli in the making have us eating out of their hands as they stumble from disaster to triumph and back to disaster while the body count rises and morality becomes pointless. But you know the worst part? I’m going to tell you the worst part. Are you ready? Because here it is. The worst part… after these messages from our sponsor…

After watching the box set of ‘Season’ Four, I put Season Five – the much vaunted final season on my Amazon Wish List and waited patiently for it to be released. It was, I bought it and waited patiently for a day when I could devour it in one. There was only one disappointment. While previous seasons had been the standard thirteen episodes long this set, entitled The Fifth Season states “contains all 8 episodes on 3 discs”. Still, if it was only eight episodes it was watchable in a day.

Then something curious happened. I started to see trailers for it on the telly – fevered announcements about the final eight episodes about to be shown on both sides of the Atlantic; about what a rip-roaring finale it was going to build up to be; how the ending was shrouded in secrecy. But wait, I had the box set sitting on my coffee table. How odd to be making such a fuss when people everywhere could already see it?

Yesterday was my chosen day and I loaded up disc one. All good, onto disc two. After episode four I decided to check out the DVD extras and found they had recorded commentaries on each show – basically, showing the episode again but with annoying voiceovers from cast and crew. And then I heard it; somebody refereed to episode eleven. I assumed I’d misheard when another interjected with a wee tease about episode thirteen. What was going on? I’ll tell you… after this break.

Coming up… Search Amazon for Breaking Bad, Fifth Season and you’ll find it straight away. When I first ordered it, the blurb also said “contains all 8 episodes on 3 discs”. But now it says, “This product has previously been called Breaking Bad - Season 5 (Part 1). For the next instalment see Breaking Bad - The Final Season.” The bastards! Not only was I NOT in possession of the finale, I was now – half-way through my box – back behind the telly showing again, having to wait months to find out how it ends. Badly, I hope!

Yes you, Walter... I'm talking about you!

So if you are concerned about the government’s plans to bomb Syria, or a lefty think tank suggesting fining young people for not voting, or who is what in Celebrity Big Brother, put aside your insignificant woes and think how bad it is for me. That disc doesn’t come out until the end of bloody November!

Huddled Masses

Under the Mental Health Act 1983 people may be sectioned for their own safety. Under earlier forms of legislation, such as the the Madhouses Act 1774 and the Lunacy Act 1845, "lunatics, idiots and persons of unsound mind" could have been detained indefinitely. It should be a concern to Diane Abbott that the term "mental disorder" is very loosely defined by the present act; under most ordinary people’s assessment she would be locked away immediately and permanently. The woman is a menace.

Never far from the news, she is now not only demanding a review of the government’s resolve to reduce immigration, but calling for an uncritical increase in the numbers of immigrants.The response to those, like me - like anybody who has actually observed the changes of the last twenty years – who question the opening of the floodgates of ‘multiculturalism’ is always that Britain is a nation of immigrants and that without immigration we would have achieved little in the world. What utter bollocks.

Like every nation on the planet with anything to offer, Britain has long been a magnet for enterprising souls. What nation wouldn't welcome people with the gumption to get off their arses and pursue betterment? And apart from invasion, which we have successfully resisted for nigh on a thousand years, we have received with open arms those who have chosen, individually, to invest their energies here, sometimes at considerable cost to themselves.

But Abbott, by some strange socialist logic, equates the get-up-and-go of some people motivated enough to get up and go where the socio-economic climate best suits their talents as a natural and desirable quality of anybody moving from one place to another. It fits very well her illogical reasoning that as a black person she feels discriminated against in a predominately white country, therefore black people cannot be accused of racism, therefore objection to immigration is racist. She ignores completely the salient facts that some people migrate to escape justice and many others are persuaded to come here by the meddlesome social engineering of her own party.

When MV Empire Windrush arrived here from Jamaica in 1948, the 493 British Empire subjects were both a necessary addition to the workforce and a shock to the system. While most people tried hard to help them assimilate there was a natural, some would say disappointing, reaction to the fact of their differentness. One black face is a novelty, but ten, twenty, all at once was cause for, at the very least, curiosity. But somehow we coped; after all 500 people added to a population of 50 million is a drop in the ocean (0.001%)

Under New Labour we added 4 million to a (supposed) population of 58 million (6.9%) a relative increase in inward migration of almost 7000 times that of the Windrush disembarkation. Seriously, Diane, you thought we wouldn't notice and shouldn't care?

Britain is NOT a nation of immigrants; it is, or rather was, a mostly homogenous nation assembled from some diverse origins which evolved slowly to have a profound effect on the development of the entire planet. Of course we are an attractive place to migrate to; who wouldn’t want to have been British over the last couple of hundred years? But now?

As a direct result of Labour’s deliberate open doors policy we are a nation not OF immigrants but crippled by unregulated immigration. It’s absolutely not their fault but a country that has to import cleaners and labourers because its own aren't capable of simple, menial work has serious issues. I would welcome with open arms engineers, scientists, doctors and teachers, but every foreign accent at a supermarket checkout makes me wince, knowing that it takes the tax of at least five of them to keep a native-born, worthless Brit idle.

Room for one more?

An anagram of Diane Abbott is ‘bent biodata’ (as is ‘tainted Abbo’- I did a search). If she isn’t deliberately using manipulated statistics to further a political cause which has already been lost then she is simply a certifiable nutter and she should be locked up for the safety of herself and others.