Category Archives: bloody good fun.

The Uprising.

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It was my very good fortune to attend the Muse concert at Wembley Stadium last night. I’ve been a fan of theirs for years, damn good tunes, well played and certainly in respect of the last few albums (although there are a number of incidences throughout their work) a very strong Libertarian feel to the lyrics.

By my reckoning there must have been about 70,000 present in the stadium. They opened with this number:

To hear that many people sing the lines:

They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious

was kinda cool. I wonder how many people from last night, and the other dates on the tour, get the message?

The One That Is Ordering A Really Huge Bucket Of Popcorn. . .

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Six MPs and peers may soon face criminal charges of fraud following investigations by Scotland Yard into the abuse of the Parliamentary expenses system.

The Daily Telegraph understands that detectives will imminently pass files on Labour MPs Elliot Morley, David Chaytor and Jim Devine, and peers Baroness Uddin, Lord Hanningfield and Lord Clarke of Hampstead to the Crown Prosecution Service.

Ho ho ho, I think I may even order up a platter of nachos covered with that cheese. Y’know, the stuff that is that yellowy orange colour you don’t find in nature.

Keir Starmer, the country’s top prosecutor, is expected to make a decision on whether to prosecute the politicians as early as January, before a General Election.

And listen to the high pitched whine if any prosecution does come before the GE. Wait for the explanation about how it would interfere with the big three’s divine right to be elected. Justice must play second fiddle to these arseholes and their desires to rule over us. The other argument will be about how the cost of these trials dwarves the amount of money trousered, and that it was a mistake. It being a mistake is a defence that has to be accepted. But only if you are an MP or a Peer of the Realm, if you’re a little person, you’re going down.

That’s not all justice has to play second fiddle to. . .

The most serious suspected frauds are considered to be those of Mr Morley and Mr Chaytor who both claimed thousands of pounds for “phantom” mortgages that they had already paid off. . .

. . . Mr Morley said: “I have always made it clear that I am not guilty of any offence and that I am very happy to co-operate with the police, and the parliamentary authorities and procedures. I have been advised not to comment on press reports particularly when they are based more on speculation than fact.”

Yep, that’s Labour all over. ‘I have declared I am not guilty, therefore it is so.’ Sorry fatboy, if we get our day in court, that’ll be for the jury to decide, and given the rep of MPs in general and you in particular, I don’t fancy your chances old chap. Just think about all that DNA on registers, all those CRB checks for you to get a job once you get out.

In May, HMRC wrote to all MPs asking if they wished to come forward and make voluntary payments.

I’m betting I know how many decided they did want to make voluntary payments. Somewhere between sod all and naff all.

The authorities said last night they had opened formal inquiries into 27 MPs.

Looks like the CPS and the revenue men could be giving us all a belated Xmas present. You see, that’s the thing, all those civil servants and police officers who have had their jobs made more difficult by your constant tinkering, who have seen budgets for proper work cut whilst more and more social cohesion diversity outreach citizen focus equality officers have been put on the strength, they are all little people too, they hate you as well and now they have an opportunity to kick you where it hurts.

Payback’s a bitch.

The One That Had A Good Time. . .

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Not long in from OH’s little stroll. I would have stayed longer, but the Snowolf doesn’t understand and needed a walk of her own.

I’ll not do a complete re-hash, but I will say that I was surprised with the reception we got from the phalanx of armed forces vets in the Westminster Arms and around Parliament itself, good men and women who seemed genuinely interested in what we were doing, why were doing it and as far as I witnessed, wishing us all the best.

Some people get very snotty about ‘The Walk’, and I don’t understand why. Is there a ‘look at me!’ aspect about it? Perhaps for some. Did we change anything? Not in the slightest. Did we make the 646 quake in their boots? No way.

When asked by a friend why I was doing this, my response was ‘Well, if I don’t, who will?’ Did it matter if I did it? No.

The same friends also display a certain nervousness, the expectation that I will get into trouble. Well, why would I? There is no law in this country about wearing a mask, or walking down the street, or doing both simultaneously. As disturbed as I am about the way things are going in this country; things haven’t got that bad yet. It is not an offence to go out sans ID, unlike some of our fellow EU members. Yet.

Doing what we did today, we were never going to get into any trouble. There isn’t any there to be had. I’ll let you into a little secret. What we did today was not daring in the slightest. It was not subversive, not radical, not anything.

From my perspective, OH’s line about it only being a walk is not some mechanism to get around protest laws in Westminster, it is a clear statement of fact. The way some people react when I tell them about it, you’d think that we were running the risk of being cast into some Cat. A prison somewhere, never to be seen again.

The sad thing is, this says more about the public’s perception of what is permissable, than it does about any laws Westminster and Brussels have passed. If they can suggest that doing this is likely to end badly, if they can insinuate that going for a walk and wearing a silly £5 plastic mask is some form of civil disobedience, then the gig is up. They don’t need to pass any laws, they don’t need to explain to the electorate why they’ve done it. We’ve done it for them.

It makes me very sad that people’s automatic reaction to the act of wearing fancy dress, walking down one of the busiest streets, in one of the world’s busiest cities, carrying nothing but a few quid in your pocket, could somehow result in ‘trouble’. As a result, they don’t do it.

I don’t think they should do it, it’s up to them. Most halfway sensible people wouldn’t even consider it. But isn’t it amazing that this equates to trouble? How conditioned we become to accepting authority over us, and fearful we are of questioning it.

So, that bring us back to the question put to me. Why did I do it?

Because I wanted to.

Because I could.

Because I was able to meet a group of likeminded people. Young and old, male and female. I was able to meet the two young Geordie girls who had spent what must have seemed like the last week on a bus down from Newcastle, just to do this. The residents of France and Switzerland, showing that whilst they may be ex-patria, they still think of home.

The main reason I did this was because it was fun.

Remember folks, the only real barriers in your way are the barriers you put in place yourself.

The One That Knows What’s Next. . .

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I forget who it was that said Puritanism was the feeling that someone, somewhere might be having fun.

Fun is bad for our health. That is why smoking has been all but banned everywhere. That is why, with the job pretty much done, that focus has now been shifted to drinking. That’s bad for our health too.

These things are being banned under the suggestion they are bad for us, but really it is because they are fun. To crush our spirit in a grey and grinding distopia, there must be no fun.

What else do Purtians hate? What else is fun? What else can be banned under the guise of being for the good of our health?


Couples should consider sleeping apart for the good of their health and
relationship, say experts.

Ahh yes, that’ll do it.

The next round of heated shot is sat in the fire waiting for the muzzle.

The One That Is Ordering Up A Big Bag Of Popcorn. . .

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James Cleverly reports (via Guido) that former London Dep-Mayor Ian Clements is due up before Westminster Mags on a fraud charge over allegations of fiddling expenses.

Guido is of the opinion that he won’t be the last politician to be hauled before the beak.

Wouldn’t it be a terrible shame if he were only the first of many? Wouldn’t it be an even bigger shame if this was at its height during a General Election campaign?

One thing is for certain, there’ll be a number of politicians moaning about how such a situation would be unhelpful and perhaps even against the national interest, especially if they are perched atop a slim majority.

I think it was Harrison Ford playing the President in Air Force One who used the line ‘Your turn to be afraid.’

Well folks, payback is a bitch and next May (assuming that is when it finally comes) is going to be so much of an Elephant hunt, that I’ll be watching the election night coverage wearing khaki drill and a pith helmet.

Bring it on.

Nihilistic? Me?

The One That Is Ticking Off His Checklist: ‘Popcorn, Cider, Ciggies, Camcorder’. . .

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A tip of the hat to Mr. E for flagging up this article from the Daily Fail:

Three Labour MPs are said to be terrified that the release of their expenses claims will expose them as adulterers and financial cheats.

Four ministers are also understood to have warned party whips they might have to resign for abusing the system, when MPs’ receipts are published before the summer recess in July.

The three unnamed backbenchers are said to have been placed on ‘suicide watch’ by Labour whips, who fear they might break down when the details of their excesses come out.

Two are understood to have had extra-marital affairs with other members of Parliament.

Now can we just be absolutely clear about what ‘suicide watch’ means? Are they worried that some MPs may get a bit blubby, or are they wanting people to watch and make sure they really do top themselves?

If it is the latter, I will selflessly put myself forward for the task. Perhaps I can offer some words of consolation like ‘You screwed who? How will you like sleeping in the shed you claimed for, you adulterous venal wankstain?’ and ‘Oh, man, you should see the crowds outside your constituency home’s front door, I didn’t think you could still get pitchforks, and I was convinced the manufacture of flaming torches was a dead art.’ or ‘Gordon’s going to make you Home Sec.’

We need to make sure these useless bastards can do something properly.

It is going to be monumentally entertaining. I’ll be compiling a highlights DVD, which I can watch on General Election night during that odd post-dinner – pre-polling station closing window.

The One That, Surprisingly, Agrees With Him. . .

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Gordon Brown has said that the tax rise in yesterday’s budget in ‘not the end of New Labour.’

He’s quite right you know.

We’ve seen the end coming for some time now, and it will come as no surprise when it finally arrives, but it ain’t here yet. We could have another year of this to come, the end of the New Labour project will be messy, humiliating and a complete elephant hunt.

Even if I’m taxed so much that I can’t afford to wear a pair of shoes, I’ll make sure that on election night I’ll have access to a TV and a big bag of popcorn, and I shall raise a cheer as the seats they hold wink out one by one.

I may even do a little dance, and look forward to booking the day after the election as an annual leave day, as I shall be gloriously drunk, transiting into a hangover of pure euphoria. Guns will then be turned onto the Conservative government, who I confidently predict are bunch of venal, grasping, corrupt, authoritarian fucktards.

The One That Had A Smashing Day Out. . .

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The little walk was very good fun, and is covered by Guido here and here.

A few people have been missing the point, asking what did we acheive? It is simple really, nothing. But that wasn’t the aim, we weren’t protesting. It demonstrated that you cannot walk down the street in a costume without being stopped and hassled. That is the real story here.

There’s something very wrong with this country, don’t you think?