He’s not the Messiah!

At Easter the imaginary son of a non-existent god rose from his grave and carried on, much as before. Pushing his largely unheeded fables down our throats and, backed by a dwindling number of mostly deluded disciples, he imagined the world needed his soothing touch. After two thousand years of Christianity the world looks a lot less stable than it did when the Romans were ruling with an iron fist, but still some persist in believing peace will one day come.   

The modern-day followers of Christ are still being crucified in the Middle East and their message of ‘do unto others’ is ignored as savages demonstrate what truly happens to the meek. And elsewhere, Christianity is in decline as one particular hard-line doctrine enforces its will on half the world’s population while the other half has advanced and realised that blind adherence to a faith will never be a part of the solution. But some keep on repeating the same old mantras.

The dogged insistence that there IS an answer to the world’s ills if we could only get along in harmony is countered by the everyday proof of people not only succeeding but thriving without it. But still Labour the religion pushes on with its message, spreading its gospel across the land via a rag-taggle band of preachers imploring voters to convert to communal ways. But beware, in the Christian myth, as in many others, there are devils. These tortured demons, so the stories go, seek to lure the unwary from the path of light and righteousness; they are also a convenient excuse for when a devout acolyte snaps and goes 'off-message' with an Uzi in a shopping centre.

And so it has come to pass that another miracle has been revealed and risen before us we see one who had died and gone away. The question you have to ask yourself is: is he an angel from god on high or an emissary of Satan himself? And is the spectacle of his messianic resurrection to be looked on in awe and wonder, or is it a warning to all mankind to prepare for the apocalypse? Nah, it’s Tony-fucking-Blair.

Like a bad penny he’s turned up again, supposedly to bolster Ed Miliband’s election campaign. Not content with stirring up the Middle East he has returned to his unfinished project; the annihilation of the last remaining Britons. In Tony’s mind, only consigning the vestiges of Britishness to the history books and subsuming this island nation wholesale into Europe will do – although he may wish to check out the dogged persistence of Israel before he relaxes, thinking the job done.

Cherie backs him all the way...

But like Christ himself, Blair seems to believe he can live forever; he’s said he will carry on doing his good work until he’s ninety-one. You’d have thought that the Millennium Dome would be enough for one man, wouldn’t you, but no, he’s still after that lost legacy, isn’t he? Remember those eyes? He’s not the Messiah – he’s a very naughty boy.

Get Stuffed!

All around the land the great and the good – well, the party leaders, at any rate – are crying “Road Trip!” and competing to annoy the greatest number of citizens by trying to prove they are human themselves. Of course, it is entirely normal for blokes in suits to don hard hats and pretend to hold a manual tool whose purpose they can’t fathom. Or to go around kissing random babies, spreading who-knows-what infection. Or to stand on soap boxes like demented street preachers and talk about how Britain can do better. Yeah, yeah, right… better leave roadshows to the professionals, I say.

These unwise outings reminded me of the time the Antiques Roadshow came to the big house in the village. The grounds of Cholmondeley Manor were packed with curious onlookers, much as they come to gawp at Ed Miliband and his amazing array of gurning faces, there to see the reactions to dismal valuations. And they weren’t disappointed.

A long-lost Gaugin, insured for millions, turned out to be a worthless scrawl by a poor, nineteen-sixties imitator. A towering confection of gilded filigree, housing a squawking, over-sized and malevolent-looking mechanical canary, a figure of curiosity and cacophony, was chuckled over and valued at “Fifty quid, tops”. And a collection of seaside postcards thought to be by the celebrated Edwardian illustrator, Donald McGill were identified as none of the kind, crudely drawn and rather more offensive than saucy. The day dragged on with valuable treasures being rather thin on the ground.

The roving camera crew trawled the queues and strolling observers to pick up the odd vox pop and occasionally a longer interview. Hoping to serendipitously happen upon TV gold. As the afternoon wore on they came across the lady of the house, accompanied by a servant pushing a trolley on which sat two formidable creatures. In an affront to the art of the taxidermist a pair of what were once pedigree hounds sat, stiffly, to attention. When asked about them, Lady Chalfont-St-Farquhar barked, “Pair of the best dashed springers I ever had! Mad as hatstands, of course, but we loved ‘em more than the children; ghastly little things – glad I had ‘em packed orf to boarding school, what!”

Thanks for dinner... I'm stuffed

The interviewer sensed he was on to a winner and pressed on with various questions which were answered with the classic, stiff-upper lip barrage of staccato return fire, as if delivering commands to the servants. Pretending to admire the moth-eaten remains and oblivious to the owner’s pride he ventured to enquire about their possible value: “And what do you think they would have fetched had they still been alive?” Lady Vivian stared at him as if he had farted at dinner. “You insensitive prick!” she bellowed. “What would they have fetched? What do you think? Sticks!”

Simple!

There is no other story to go with for today's blog than the lefty laff-fest that has been #nondomnishambles. What goes around comes around to bite you on the arse; thus found out Ed Balls when he was backed into a corner and had to explain how he now supported a policy move he opposed only back in January. The proposal was, of course, that of ending the non-domicile tax status of up to 120,000 people which between them pay the equivalent, by some estimates, of 10 million low paid workers. As a class-envy soundbite it has traction – soak the rich. But as sound economics the experts are agreed that they can’t agree.

What started out as a bold new policy announcement turned quickly into a shambolic reversal of a previous position, which became, under scrutiny, a plan instead to ‘look into’ changing a situation which Labour in power appeared to welcome, if the doubling of the numbers of non-doms in their time is anything to go by. The measure will either bring huge tax windfalls or it may cost the country money, but either way it will have no effect whatsoever on approximately 99.8% of the population over which Labour wish to exercise ‘leadership’. Are you following?

But all that detail hardly matters because few of us really understand any of the big economic arguments to any great degree of complexity, yet the left forever see conspiracy where none exists, or where it simply doesn’t matter. The very rich will be very rich until we try to rob them blind… at which point they will still be very rich, but just not over here. Keep. It. Simple… Stupid. Instead of imagining convoluted plots to grind poor people into the dirt – to what end, you ought to ask? – all you have to do is accept mankind’s venal, opportunistic, materialistic urges and all becomes crystal clear; people want to keep what they’ve got and really don’t want to give it away without a struggle.

If the non-doms are here it is because we have made it an attractive position for them to be so. Of course if Labour and the Greens and the SNP and Uncle Tom Marx and all get their way, the problems they see embodied in the existence of the rich will disappear along with their money as soon as those parties manage to relegate us from the league of properly civilised countries. But they can’t think like that; just as in Junior Chess, you have to think a few moves ahead to be in with a chance.

But no, unable to follow a coherent train of thought to its eventual terminus and explain the failure of their policies in power, they have to imagine non-existent bogeymen waiting in the shadows to de-rail their carriages. They do the same when talking about people with whom they disagree - making it complicated and assigning all sorts of calculated malevolence to those with differing opinions. And to their followers this ridiculous rhetoric rings true because how else could they be poor and uneducated and unhealthy unless the nasty, grasping, plotting forces of evil were ranged in solidarity against them?

What then, do we sentient free-acting agents think in turn of the lefties and their complicated interpretations of our devious and twisted, world-dominating motives? Well, for one thing, we don’t suppose to know their minds as they believe they know ours, in much the way we don’t really need to know what the cat is thinking. They are there, they’re a bit annoying at times, but when it comes down to it you can only judge them by their actions. They’re just not all that bright, are they? 

Blairey Superstitious...

That Tony Blair has come out for Ed Miliband shows how desperate Labour are for votes at any cost in the coming election because, surely, it is all or nothing for them now. After all the distance Ed has tried to put between himself and the Tory-Lite facsimile of New Labour the party faithful clearly have no faith in the old way that Ed represents. Big gamble, because Blair is as hated by almost as many Labour supporters as he is by the centre-right, whose garb he adopted as a Fabian wolf in the sheep’s clothing of woolly-soft faux conservatism before allowing his chancellor to do his worst.

His worst? To plunge us further into the welfare mire from which the coalition has tried to extract us, one sticky welly at a time. Because Labour is nothing if it isn’t spending other people’s money and then demanding more. A great deal that is wrong with our country can be summed up with a few of JFK’s famous words: “Ask not what your country can do for you…” If people did more for themselves then there would be fewer Marys in the world.

Mary is a hobby alcoholic; it’s an occupation of sorts. To ring the changes she also dabbles in other mood-altering substances when the opportunity arises but times are hard and there is only so much cash to go around. To this end she is grateful for her several children, who give her unchallenged access to the benefit bounty of free money for kids, rent and Council Tax. These, of course, are well-known gateway benefits, leading users to seek ever more exotic handout-highs.

 The children, as is natural when you have no aspiration, rarely attend school regularly and they are in and out of the courts and state care as often as Mary is in and out of rehab and treatment programmes. Between them they cost the country many hundreds of thousands of pounds in failed education initiatives, court costs and frequent unnecessary visits by the emergency services, called in by concerned neighbours because of the violent stand-up rows, which replace normal functional communication.

It’s likely the kids will never work and will inherit many of Mary’s troubles, going on to reproduce for recreation and soaking up ever more healthcare and social services resources. The brood will spread and in a few generations will fill a small sink estate and its attendant state-provided army of people whose miserable job it is to contain their worst excesses and limit the damage they can do to others. Multiply the problems by the number of Marys and it is clear that public spending could be vastly reduced were they simply not there.

It's our country now...

Draconian measures would be needed to expunge the blight though, and any party attempting it is automatically damned as monstrous, but it is clear to most that it can’t continue. If the country isn’t allowed to do for Mary, then Mary must do the right thing and exercise restraint. Fat chance. The rot started long ago but it accelerated wildly under the ‘caring’ and ever watchful evil eyes of Blair’s administration. New Labour solved nothing, they just took your money and concealed the crap under the carpet. The money is still all gone – where do you think Labour will look for more?

Kiddy-Fiddling

It’s all about the money, at least if you buy the Tory electoral line. And what normal person wouldn’t want to? Britain is getting back to work, people are becoming better off, the deficit is steadily shrinking and with a steady hand on the tiller we are on course for more of the same. But, in the absence of any credible policies to counter the Conservative good news campaign, the parties of the left are betting the farm on appealing to the hateful impulses of unthinking socialism. The Tories are portrayed by Labour, the SNP, Plaid Cymru and even to some extent by their coalition partners, the LibDems, as the enemy. To the left, success is to be vilified and loathed and the Tories are a rapacious horde to be exterminated. Talk about killing the golden goose…

There is no part of the constituency to which this ‘nasty Tory’ line plays better than our dumbed down, experience-lite, naïve, coddled, starry-eyed youth for whom sound-bites pass for philosophy and Russell Brand’s unhinged rhetoric for the wisdom of the ages. If one thing is certain, it is that children should never have any influence on those with the power to make decisions which affect everybody. I’d even go so far as to say that children should rarely even be consulted about decisions which directly affect themselve; they are minors and no matter how well they imitate their elders, few are capable of making wise choices about affairs to which they have made no contribution.

So, it’s little wonder that the left-wing think tank, the Institute for Public Policy Research proposes that voting should be compulsory in the first election after any youngster reaches the age of majority. In an election battle that is being fought currently on the manipulation of flimsy and largely meaningless financial statistics, what qualifies mere children to make sense of the Play-Your-Cards-Right game of higher/lower/better-off/worse-off than the adults who actually stand to win or lose by it? Which way do you reckon the spotty ones will vote; for less pocket money, or a Brucie Bonus?

The Greens have the answers to EVERYTHING!

And what does it say for the gravitas of any party that fervently seeks the votes of children to retain power - Hitler Youth, anybody? Gerrymandering is a constant political threat, whether by electoral boundaries, corrupt postal means, or the buying of votes for benefits bribes. The left are so convinced they are right and only they are right and that only they have any moral entitlement to be in power that they will do or say almost anything to groom a vote. In other words they will happily deceive gullible young minds to vote for their own enslavement to the state, which is tantamount to child abuse. But will the brown-shirted, Labour Youth, kinder-voters, in their failed socialist futures ever get a chance to point out on the political doll where the Labour Party touched them?