No, it's not the travellers, who still bank fortunes every time a bar decides not to serve them because the last one that did ended up like this.
And it's certainly not the asylum seekers refusing to leave their holiday camp accommodation.
Needless to say, it is Irish people returning to Ireland from abroad.
While the quasi-bankrupt state continues funding Pamela Izevbhekhai's millions of euro in legal fees and hands six figure cheques or luxury houses out to squatting travellers, it refuses welfare to Irish people returning home.
What a sick inversion of priorities this morally vacant government has, that they would plough tax money into zombie banks and gombeen developers, and throw money, education and accommodation at any liar off the plane from Nigeria, yet they deny basic welfare to their own citizens.
It's time for the revolution, I think.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Quelle surprise!
It seems that the French authorities are going to prosecute the members of their national soccer team who were shagging underage prostitutes after all.
Three of their top players admitted to paying tens of thousands of euro to bang teen hookers, which is a child abuse offence in France.
Yet somehow, they were not only not prosecuted on the spot, but two of them even made it onto the plane to South Africa and ended up shaming their nation all over again with dismal performances and that hilarious Gallic strop where they refused to train.
We're well used, via exposure to the England wags, to the ignominious sight of an overly made-up professional shopper standing by her man after he's been caught knocking off pay-to-play pussy.
But it's a bit of a new experience for the French. I wonder whether this case would ever have reached court if Ribery and Govou had helped their team to the title, or at least made the semi-finals? Perhaps it is not their disgraceful sexual shenanigans which are being punished so much as their failure at football.
As a coda to all of that, the cheat Henry has gone to the graveyard of ageing footballers, America, for one last payday. Unfortunately, he chose to play for New York Red Bulls - one of the two franchises in the MLS with as many Irish-American fans as Hispanic ones. There already have been calls for a boycott.
Much as I loathe what Henry did, and galling as it was to think of how much better Ireland's hungry young Turks under Trap might have done in place of the French in South Africa, I think it is appalling that it is Thierry who faces the shame and the boycott and not those who thought it legitimate to hire children for sex.
Three of their top players admitted to paying tens of thousands of euro to bang teen hookers, which is a child abuse offence in France.
Yet somehow, they were not only not prosecuted on the spot, but two of them even made it onto the plane to South Africa and ended up shaming their nation all over again with dismal performances and that hilarious Gallic strop where they refused to train.
We're well used, via exposure to the England wags, to the ignominious sight of an overly made-up professional shopper standing by her man after he's been caught knocking off pay-to-play pussy.
But it's a bit of a new experience for the French. I wonder whether this case would ever have reached court if Ribery and Govou had helped their team to the title, or at least made the semi-finals? Perhaps it is not their disgraceful sexual shenanigans which are being punished so much as their failure at football.
As a coda to all of that, the cheat Henry has gone to the graveyard of ageing footballers, America, for one last payday. Unfortunately, he chose to play for New York Red Bulls - one of the two franchises in the MLS with as many Irish-American fans as Hispanic ones. There already have been calls for a boycott.
Much as I loathe what Henry did, and galling as it was to think of how much better Ireland's hungry young Turks under Trap might have done in place of the French in South Africa, I think it is appalling that it is Thierry who faces the shame and the boycott and not those who thought it legitimate to hire children for sex.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Why Orangefest is wrong
We're told that the 12th of July celebrations by the Loyal Orange Order is a simple celebration of Protestant Ulster religious tradition and in no way intended as an antagonism or triumphalist sneering at the Catholic community of Northern Ireland.
Sadly this picture says otherwise:
For the uninitiated in Ulster hatreds, KAT stands for 'Kill all Taigs (Catholics)' while FAP is an acronym for 'Fuck all Papists'.
This image, and a superb photostory and accompanying report, can be found at Slugger O'Toole.
The author must be commended for braving the drunken louts that attend the 12th of July 'celebrations' in order to report on the reality of the hatred they represent.
What religious organisation can endorse such genocidal desires among its supporters? Is it any wonder that the people of nationalist areas such as Ardoyne are prepared, after generations of such intimidation, to riot in order to prevent them passing through their streets?
The only way to prevent those riots is to prevent the marches themselves. In places like Rossknowlagh, in Donegal in the Republic of Ireland, Orange marches pass off peaceably every year without fail. It is no coincidence that the Rossknowlagh march does not pass through streets where they are not wanted, nor does its followers display on their faces desires to ethnically cleanse their neighbours and co-religionists in the Christian tradition.
Much as the Orange Order would like to sanitise their marching season into an 'Orangefest' the whole community and wider tourist cohort can enjoy, while their supporters propose the genocide of their neighbours, this remains an impossible dream.
Only when the Orange marches are restricted to routes on which they are welcome, when their religious temperance celebration is enforced without alcohol and when they strictly repudiate genocidal intent among their following will they ever be accepted among their neighbours whose eradication is so desired by deluded, hate-filled youngsters such as those above.
Sadly this picture says otherwise:
For the uninitiated in Ulster hatreds, KAT stands for 'Kill all Taigs (Catholics)' while FAP is an acronym for 'Fuck all Papists'.
This image, and a superb photostory and accompanying report, can be found at Slugger O'Toole.
The author must be commended for braving the drunken louts that attend the 12th of July 'celebrations' in order to report on the reality of the hatred they represent.
What religious organisation can endorse such genocidal desires among its supporters? Is it any wonder that the people of nationalist areas such as Ardoyne are prepared, after generations of such intimidation, to riot in order to prevent them passing through their streets?
The only way to prevent those riots is to prevent the marches themselves. In places like Rossknowlagh, in Donegal in the Republic of Ireland, Orange marches pass off peaceably every year without fail. It is no coincidence that the Rossknowlagh march does not pass through streets where they are not wanted, nor does its followers display on their faces desires to ethnically cleanse their neighbours and co-religionists in the Christian tradition.
Much as the Orange Order would like to sanitise their marching season into an 'Orangefest' the whole community and wider tourist cohort can enjoy, while their supporters propose the genocide of their neighbours, this remains an impossible dream.
Only when the Orange marches are restricted to routes on which they are welcome, when their religious temperance celebration is enforced without alcohol and when they strictly repudiate genocidal intent among their following will they ever be accepted among their neighbours whose eradication is so desired by deluded, hate-filled youngsters such as those above.
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
Ingrates of the Year
It's hard to comprehend the ingratitude expressed by asylum seekers who threaten hunger strike when asked to leave their holiday camp accommodation and move elsewhere while their claims are considered.
After all, these people have fled life-threatening environments, and have arrived on the shores of Ireland pleading for a safe haven. That's the claim, anyway.
Of course, it's a claim that makes no sense whatsoever. Justice figures show that in excess of 90% of such claims are bogus, and the claimants utilise all routes at their disposal, from destroying their ID documents on arrival, to repeated expensive appeals (paid for by the Irish taxpayer) to delay their lies being exposed.
The aim is to delay the process sufficiently so that it results in their nationalisation, either by the former route of having a child born in Ireland or the current favourites - marriage to an Irish citizen or nationalisation on the basis of how long they've been here.
Furthermore, the vast majority of claimants are not from places where their lives could be genuinely considered at risk. Nigeria is not at war nor has it been for decades. It is an affluent country by African standards, with oil and mineral resources, a thriving film industry and large conurbations of industry. Yet a large proportion of asylum claims in Ireland are made by Nigerians.
Asylum claimants are expected to claim asylum in the first safe haven they reach. Obviously there are no direct flights from Lagos to Dublin. It's self-evident that the vast majority of asylum seekers here are simply economic migrants attracted by our generous social welfare provision.
West African countries for much of the past decade were rife with advertisements guiding people in how to claim asylum in Ireland, what to say in interviews, and what you can get from the state. It was an industry that only tailed off along with the economic downturn.
You would think that asylum cases might grow in times of economic difficulty. The fact they plummetted by 50% indicates that the bulk of claimants in Ireland were bogus. They were economic migrants.
Many successful claimants often end up holidaying back in their native countries despite their claim being based on the alleged fear of threat to their lives in those countries. We had one ridiculous case where an asylum seeker who was later elected mayor of Portlaoise returned to Nigeria to be celebrated in a parade. Surely that ought to have instantly invalidated his claim? Not in the upside-down logic of the Irish asylum system.
The poster girl for this methodology is Nigerian liar Pamela Izevbhekhai, who disgracefully invented an imaginary dead daughter to support her claim for asylum. Despite being found out a year ago, she is somehow still in Ireland, still costing the state a fortune as she endlessly appeals in ever higher courts.
There will inevitably be those hand-wringing self-loathers who will cry 'racism' as the first mention of criticism of asylum seekers. We saw this in the protests supporting Izevbhekhai. The country no longer has the resources to support the levels of economic migrants posing immorally as asylum seekers, and certainly need no longer listen to the delusions of the bleeding-heart classes and their facile attempts to throw Ireland's doors open to all-comers.
Simply put, we permitted 505,000 people to come to Ireland in recent years and now are experiencing unemployment of 452,000. The two numbers are obviously linked.
There is an ideological gap between those who consider that nation states have a primary duty of care to their own citizens, and those who support unfettered freedom of movement globally.
The former are baffled as to why the country is still paying to house economic migrants who lie to get into Ireland having failed to claim asylum in countries they've travelled through (where social welfare payments are lower), especially when those bogus claimants then demonstrate their gratitude by ever-escalating demands - the right to work, free education, new schools for their kids, and of course the right to choose to stay in a holiday camp.
They're also baffled by being called racists for questioning these issues.
The latter seem to think that somehow a small island on the edge of the Atlantic which is mired in debt and on the brink of default can afford to house all of Africa on generous social welfare payments, and support the legal fees incurred by their endless risible appeals in court.
I've called before for a new approach to asylum and immigration in Ireland. Even if implemented now, it's still years too late.
But a good start would be to immediately introduce as an emergency measure an end to all funding of legal appeals in asylum cases. And in that context, the claimants at Mosney can be offered a nice simple choice - take what you're given or get out.
They can be provided with flights back to their country of origin, or to whatever country they transitted through en route to Ireland if they still aren't happy.
After all, these people have fled life-threatening environments, and have arrived on the shores of Ireland pleading for a safe haven. That's the claim, anyway.
Of course, it's a claim that makes no sense whatsoever. Justice figures show that in excess of 90% of such claims are bogus, and the claimants utilise all routes at their disposal, from destroying their ID documents on arrival, to repeated expensive appeals (paid for by the Irish taxpayer) to delay their lies being exposed.
The aim is to delay the process sufficiently so that it results in their nationalisation, either by the former route of having a child born in Ireland or the current favourites - marriage to an Irish citizen or nationalisation on the basis of how long they've been here.
Furthermore, the vast majority of claimants are not from places where their lives could be genuinely considered at risk. Nigeria is not at war nor has it been for decades. It is an affluent country by African standards, with oil and mineral resources, a thriving film industry and large conurbations of industry. Yet a large proportion of asylum claims in Ireland are made by Nigerians.
Asylum claimants are expected to claim asylum in the first safe haven they reach. Obviously there are no direct flights from Lagos to Dublin. It's self-evident that the vast majority of asylum seekers here are simply economic migrants attracted by our generous social welfare provision.
West African countries for much of the past decade were rife with advertisements guiding people in how to claim asylum in Ireland, what to say in interviews, and what you can get from the state. It was an industry that only tailed off along with the economic downturn.
You would think that asylum cases might grow in times of economic difficulty. The fact they plummetted by 50% indicates that the bulk of claimants in Ireland were bogus. They were economic migrants.
Many successful claimants often end up holidaying back in their native countries despite their claim being based on the alleged fear of threat to their lives in those countries. We had one ridiculous case where an asylum seeker who was later elected mayor of Portlaoise returned to Nigeria to be celebrated in a parade. Surely that ought to have instantly invalidated his claim? Not in the upside-down logic of the Irish asylum system.
The poster girl for this methodology is Nigerian liar Pamela Izevbhekhai, who disgracefully invented an imaginary dead daughter to support her claim for asylum. Despite being found out a year ago, she is somehow still in Ireland, still costing the state a fortune as she endlessly appeals in ever higher courts.
There will inevitably be those hand-wringing self-loathers who will cry 'racism' as the first mention of criticism of asylum seekers. We saw this in the protests supporting Izevbhekhai. The country no longer has the resources to support the levels of economic migrants posing immorally as asylum seekers, and certainly need no longer listen to the delusions of the bleeding-heart classes and their facile attempts to throw Ireland's doors open to all-comers.
Simply put, we permitted 505,000 people to come to Ireland in recent years and now are experiencing unemployment of 452,000. The two numbers are obviously linked.
There is an ideological gap between those who consider that nation states have a primary duty of care to their own citizens, and those who support unfettered freedom of movement globally.
The former are baffled as to why the country is still paying to house economic migrants who lie to get into Ireland having failed to claim asylum in countries they've travelled through (where social welfare payments are lower), especially when those bogus claimants then demonstrate their gratitude by ever-escalating demands - the right to work, free education, new schools for their kids, and of course the right to choose to stay in a holiday camp.
They're also baffled by being called racists for questioning these issues.
The latter seem to think that somehow a small island on the edge of the Atlantic which is mired in debt and on the brink of default can afford to house all of Africa on generous social welfare payments, and support the legal fees incurred by their endless risible appeals in court.
I've called before for a new approach to asylum and immigration in Ireland. Even if implemented now, it's still years too late.
But a good start would be to immediately introduce as an emergency measure an end to all funding of legal appeals in asylum cases. And in that context, the claimants at Mosney can be offered a nice simple choice - take what you're given or get out.
They can be provided with flights back to their country of origin, or to whatever country they transitted through en route to Ireland if they still aren't happy.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Oolster-Scòtch comes of age
At long last, the imaginary language has produced something of genuine worth.
No, not the 'translation' fees that helped fund turncoat Ian Parsley's ill-fated tilt at political superstardom. I mean a genuine piece of art even more hilarious than Lord Laird's excuses for his stratospheric taxi expenses.
Welcome to 1690 and all thon, a satirical examination of Northern Ireland's politics and culture, with a special focus on the nonsense that is Ulster-Scots.
You have to admire 'Professor' Wullie and his associates Billy and WJ for their mastery of this spoof language. I really hope they're receiving some sort of grant from the millions of wasted taxpayers' money that's being pissed away on this linguistic scam.
After all, if the Department of Arts and Culture can fund the paedophiles, bigots and chancers who run the actual Ulster-Scots Scam, surely these comic geniuses should be getting a few quid?
"Git yer fingers oot and haun thon wee lads a few shillin, Norn Iron Oaffis! Shure they've goat tae be wirth mair than payin fir Lord Laird's fauncy dress an cabbie bills," said one of the zero existing native speakers of Ulster-Scots yesterday.
PS. RIP to Horseman, author of the Ulster's Doomed blog, whose excellent work highlighting the duplicity of Ian Parsley is linked above. Sadly he passed away recently (Horseman, that is, not Parsley, more's the pity.)
The blogosphere is a poorer place without Horseman and his forensic numerical examinations of Northern Ireland and its politics. Our thoughts are with his family and friends.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Moliere
I never was mad on Moliere when I studied French. It all seemed too archaic, his plots (an underrated element of any fiction-writing) far too contrived.
The French loved him of course, and consider him their Shakespeare. It's one of the few aspect of French cultural life, along with Raymond Domenech and their penchant for air traffic strikes, that leave me baffled.
But by God is he on the money when he defined journalism:
Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for the love of it. Than you do it it for a few friends. And then you do it for money.
He's also spot on with a number of other observations too. On drinking:
Let us drink while we can. We cannot drink forever. (from Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme.)
And: Of all the noises known to man, Opera is the most expensive.
Mind you, he probably hadn't heard the whining of Irish bankers and developers. Compared to NAMA, opera is a total bargain. Not to mention much more tuneful.
The French loved him of course, and consider him their Shakespeare. It's one of the few aspect of French cultural life, along with Raymond Domenech and their penchant for air traffic strikes, that leave me baffled.
But by God is he on the money when he defined journalism:
Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for the love of it. Than you do it it for a few friends. And then you do it for money.
He's also spot on with a number of other observations too. On drinking:
Let us drink while we can. We cannot drink forever. (from Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme.)
And: Of all the noises known to man, Opera is the most expensive.
Mind you, he probably hadn't heard the whining of Irish bankers and developers. Compared to NAMA, opera is a total bargain. Not to mention much more tuneful.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Poison Pens Seven: The border Tories can see from Space
When is a satellite image from NASA not a satellite image from NASA?
When it's been doctored by the Torygraph, of course. See anything bogey in this pic?
Apart from the fact that is ISN'T one of the images released by NASA to celebrate the World Cup and is instead one of the Telegraph's 'favourites', there appears to be a strange meandering river crossing the island of Ireland.
Bizarrely, this river appears to follow exactly the political border between the Republic and the North. This is a river unknown to anyone who has ever been to Ireland. In fact, it doesn't actually exist. So how did it end up in a NASA satellite image?
I had a look at the other images, and of course no borders exist in any of them, because NASA are not a bunch of tools who photoshop borders onto satellite images.
But it seems that the Torygraph are. There you go - a border you can see from Space, but only if you're a Daily Telegraph reader.
When it's been doctored by the Torygraph, of course. See anything bogey in this pic?
Apart from the fact that is ISN'T one of the images released by NASA to celebrate the World Cup and is instead one of the Telegraph's 'favourites', there appears to be a strange meandering river crossing the island of Ireland.
Bizarrely, this river appears to follow exactly the political border between the Republic and the North. This is a river unknown to anyone who has ever been to Ireland. In fact, it doesn't actually exist. So how did it end up in a NASA satellite image?
I had a look at the other images, and of course no borders exist in any of them, because NASA are not a bunch of tools who photoshop borders onto satellite images.
But it seems that the Torygraph are. There you go - a border you can see from Space, but only if you're a Daily Telegraph reader.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Whine Rooney
At the Euro 2004 Championships, the sports journalists used to take the piss out of Sven-Goran Eriksson's accent.
Before each press conference, they would disseminate 'bingo cards'. Each had a well-used phrase from the Swede's hackneyed and accented vocabulary on it.
Some would get 'My bee, my bee not', Sven's favourite answer when asked if a particular player would be in the first eleven for the next game.
The winning bingo card was invariably the 'Whine Rooney' card, which wasn't surprising given Rooney's central role for England in that tournament.
Tonight, Rooney finally lived up to Sven's mispronunciation. The despicable underperformer had the shocking audacity to berate the England fans who booed his misfiring team on camera. Here's the footage if you missed it:
This pulchritudinally challenged, ill-educated chav has been made a multi-millionaire by the very people he attacked. Without them, he'd be stacking shelves in Toxteth or drawing the dole.
They paid thousands of pounds to travel to South Africa to support their country in the World Cup. They have every right to boo a performance as abject and pathetic as England's was against the Algerians.
Rather than mouthing off like a lout, he should be on his knees apologising to them profusely. They made him what he is. He owes them, not the other way around.
Before each press conference, they would disseminate 'bingo cards'. Each had a well-used phrase from the Swede's hackneyed and accented vocabulary on it.
Some would get 'My bee, my bee not', Sven's favourite answer when asked if a particular player would be in the first eleven for the next game.
The winning bingo card was invariably the 'Whine Rooney' card, which wasn't surprising given Rooney's central role for England in that tournament.
Tonight, Rooney finally lived up to Sven's mispronunciation. The despicable underperformer had the shocking audacity to berate the England fans who booed his misfiring team on camera. Here's the footage if you missed it:
This pulchritudinally challenged, ill-educated chav has been made a multi-millionaire by the very people he attacked. Without them, he'd be stacking shelves in Toxteth or drawing the dole.
They paid thousands of pounds to travel to South Africa to support their country in the World Cup. They have every right to boo a performance as abject and pathetic as England's was against the Algerians.
Rather than mouthing off like a lout, he should be on his knees apologising to them profusely. They made him what he is. He owes them, not the other way around.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Justice!
First Saville, now this.
A great week for delayed justice finally delivered.
Hopefully that's au revoir to that money-driven fool Domenech and his merry band of cheats and child abusers.
Congratulations to Mexico. What a splendid performance of football in the face of diving, cheating, hacking and whining from their opposition.
A great week for delayed justice finally delivered.
Hopefully that's au revoir to that money-driven fool Domenech and his merry band of cheats and child abusers.
Congratulations to Mexico. What a splendid performance of football in the face of diving, cheating, hacking and whining from their opposition.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Worst World Cup ever?
Certainly shaping up that way so far.
Why is this World Cup crap? Let us count the ways:
1. The vuvuzela drone. Apart from being profoundly annoying, it also drowns out fan singing, players can't communicate with each other, and it's so loud people are suffering from temporary deafness, and likely long-term hearing loss.
Furthermore, the argument that it is somehow integral to South African sport is pure horseshit. The vuvuzela was invented only a few years ago, and is already banned at cricket and rugby games in South Africa.
2. No goals. Or rather, far fewer than one might have expected. You could attribute this to the 'concede nothing' defensive mentality rife in the modern game. But I'm more inclined to blame...
3. The Jabulani ball. Seemingly lighter than a beach ball, this balloon has eradicated the possibility of scoring from set pieces. Once it's lofted into the air, it seems to go into orbit. Merely tapping it lightly is enough to send it into row Z at lightspeed.
4. Empty stadiums. This is what happens when FIFA insists that a 3rd world country spend money it can't afford building a plethora of soccer temples destined to fall into disrepair just like all those nice Olympic stadia in Athens have already.
Inevitably, the country tries to retrieve some money by pricing accordingly for the rich affluent Western fans who will come. Except they won't come, because this World Cup is being held in a 3rd world country with a global reputation for stratospheric rape and murder rates.
Result? Last minute ticket giveaways, and yet the stadia STILL aren't remotely close to full.
5. Unrest and danger. I like South Africa, but there's no way I was ever going to attend this tournament. The risks are simply too high. When the stadium stewards are causing riots rather than preventing them, a tragedy is inevitable.
6. No one has crippled that cheating thief Thierry Henry yet.
7. And now FIFA are getting the South African police to arrest women for wearing orange skirts in the stadium.
Roll on Brazil 2014. It can't come soon enough.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The rich are suffering?
According to the spoofers, vested interests and eejits in the ESRI, the rich are suffering in what they euphemistically call 'the downturn' (a diminution akin to calling the civil war in Northern Ireland 'troubles'.)
Has anyone told Sean FitzPatrick yet? Or David Drumm? Or any of the other millionaire banksters who cut and run with their swagbags to their sunny hideyholes, laughing all the way?
The ESRI should really be wound down at this stage. It's nothing more than a national gag generator, and I mean gag in both senses, creating comedy and vomit in equal measure.
Remember, these are the same loons who were still predicting boom even after the bust had arrived, still wittering about 'soft landings' when the economy was in freefall.
Has anyone told Sean FitzPatrick yet? Or David Drumm? Or any of the other millionaire banksters who cut and run with their swagbags to their sunny hideyholes, laughing all the way?
The ESRI should really be wound down at this stage. It's nothing more than a national gag generator, and I mean gag in both senses, creating comedy and vomit in equal measure.
Remember, these are the same loons who were still predicting boom even after the bust had arrived, still wittering about 'soft landings' when the economy was in freefall.
Monday, May 10, 2010
A small point on the issue of democracy
I've not yet heard anyone make the following simple point, least of all those who are seeking to create the 'progressive coalition' in Britain.
Sure, the Tories got the most seats. That's their argument.
And sure, the Liberals and Labour collectively got many more votes. That's the only argument they've offered in terms of legitimacy so far.
But my argument would be this: surely a coalition made up of Labour, the Lib Dems, the SDLP, Lady Sylvia (former UUP), NI Alliance Party, the Greens (and possibly Scots and Welsh nationalists too) represents a much broader and wider sweep of the UK than a simple coalition of Tories and Liberals, propped up perhaps by the DUP.
The Tory spin that such a coalition would be fragile is undone by this argument. Because the very thing that makes it fragile is the very thing that makes it democratic - plurality of representation.
Sure, the Tories got the most seats. That's their argument.
And sure, the Liberals and Labour collectively got many more votes. That's the only argument they've offered in terms of legitimacy so far.
But my argument would be this: surely a coalition made up of Labour, the Lib Dems, the SDLP, Lady Sylvia (former UUP), NI Alliance Party, the Greens (and possibly Scots and Welsh nationalists too) represents a much broader and wider sweep of the UK than a simple coalition of Tories and Liberals, propped up perhaps by the DUP.
The Tory spin that such a coalition would be fragile is undone by this argument. Because the very thing that makes it fragile is the very thing that makes it democratic - plurality of representation.
In the national interest
Pretty much everything any British politician is saying today relates to things being done in the national interest.
It's the catchphrase used to justify all sorts of self-serving politicking. But playing with the phrase makes for a fun game, actually.
Simply add 'in the national interest' to whatever self-centred nonsense you happen to be spouting and voila! No dissent.
It could prove useful in all sorts of situations. Unruly child?
'Go to your bed, in the national interest!'
Need a loan from your bank manager? Simply demand it in the national interest, of course. They're getting their money from the state using exactly the same excuse after all.
Not getting laid? Invite a lady back to yours for coffee 'in the national interest.'
I suspect we're going to hear an awful lot more about the national interest in the next while.
It's the catchphrase used to justify all sorts of self-serving politicking. But playing with the phrase makes for a fun game, actually.
Simply add 'in the national interest' to whatever self-centred nonsense you happen to be spouting and voila! No dissent.
It could prove useful in all sorts of situations. Unruly child?
'Go to your bed, in the national interest!'
Need a loan from your bank manager? Simply demand it in the national interest, of course. They're getting their money from the state using exactly the same excuse after all.
Not getting laid? Invite a lady back to yours for coffee 'in the national interest.'
I suspect we're going to hear an awful lot more about the national interest in the next while.
The Dark Lord is still spinning
Lord Mandelson appears to have pulled off at least the half-chance of continuing the nu-Labour regime that little bit longer.
Perhaps this is not the wisest move for Labour. Whoever comes in must make cuts, deep and severe cuts.
And they'd have to do so propped up by at least one other party in the Lib Dems, who could walk at any time. And in Labour's case, a few assorted other fellow travellers too.
Such an arrangement would give the Liberals the PR they want (like our presidential electoral system) but would be exceedingly fragile. This appears to be the main reason why the Liberals have permitted Westminster posh boy Clegg his flirtation with the Tories.
While Brown remained in charge of Labour, he remained a block on such a Lib-Lab pact. Mandelson now appears to have unblocked that in dramatic fashion tonight. Or was it perhaps a last throw of the dice by Brown himself, putting party and country first?
Either way, it's now a live option. The Liberals need only swallow hard, suck up the approprium of the Tory press, and cut the deal.
The alternative is now to prop up a minority Tory government, as coalition was never likely there, on the basis of a slender promise to examine electoral reform.
Not an easy choice, and getting harder for Clegg by the minute. Walking away from the Tories would please his party but not the press or many of the people.
This election has made life very difficult for all three parties. And all the available options provide concern for each of those parties.
But from an Irish point of view, there's little doubt that a coalition of Labour and the Liberals which included nationalists from the Celtic fringes is a wet dream for most Irish people.
And the alternative, Tories propped up by the DUP, doesn't bear thinking about.
This will likely result in bitter recriminations one way or the other. But if those recriminations are heard loudest from the Tory press and the Cameroons, then likely Gordon Brown and his dark Lord will consider today's stunning events to be a political masterstroke.
Perhaps this is not the wisest move for Labour. Whoever comes in must make cuts, deep and severe cuts.
And they'd have to do so propped up by at least one other party in the Lib Dems, who could walk at any time. And in Labour's case, a few assorted other fellow travellers too.
Such an arrangement would give the Liberals the PR they want (like our presidential electoral system) but would be exceedingly fragile. This appears to be the main reason why the Liberals have permitted Westminster posh boy Clegg his flirtation with the Tories.
While Brown remained in charge of Labour, he remained a block on such a Lib-Lab pact. Mandelson now appears to have unblocked that in dramatic fashion tonight. Or was it perhaps a last throw of the dice by Brown himself, putting party and country first?
Either way, it's now a live option. The Liberals need only swallow hard, suck up the approprium of the Tory press, and cut the deal.
The alternative is now to prop up a minority Tory government, as coalition was never likely there, on the basis of a slender promise to examine electoral reform.
Not an easy choice, and getting harder for Clegg by the minute. Walking away from the Tories would please his party but not the press or many of the people.
This election has made life very difficult for all three parties. And all the available options provide concern for each of those parties.
But from an Irish point of view, there's little doubt that a coalition of Labour and the Liberals which included nationalists from the Celtic fringes is a wet dream for most Irish people.
And the alternative, Tories propped up by the DUP, doesn't bear thinking about.
This will likely result in bitter recriminations one way or the other. But if those recriminations are heard loudest from the Tory press and the Cameroons, then likely Gordon Brown and his dark Lord will consider today's stunning events to be a political masterstroke.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Scotch at noon
She's got a day off and she's excited about it.
"I'm going to be so lazy," she promises. "I'm having the longest lie-in. You know what I don't have to do? I don't have to work."
She gets drunk on the freedom.
"I could have scotch at noon," she promises rashly.
"You want scotch at noon?" I ask, concerned as I am the only possessor of scotch in the building.
"Don't be silly," she says to my relief. "I'm going to sleep in way past noon!"
"I'm going to be so lazy," she promises. "I'm having the longest lie-in. You know what I don't have to do? I don't have to work."
She gets drunk on the freedom.
"I could have scotch at noon," she promises rashly.
"You want scotch at noon?" I ask, concerned as I am the only possessor of scotch in the building.
"Don't be silly," she says to my relief. "I'm going to sleep in way past noon!"
Friday, May 07, 2010
Gordon's last stand
I bet Brown doesn't read this blog. And that's going to be something he'll regret, because I know how to save his career and his legacy.
He needs to call Nick Clegg and offer him the following improvement on the existing offer - two seats at cabinet for him and Vince Cable, one of them being that of the Prime Minister. And insists that he or Darling, with Cable's assistance, ride out the financial crisis.
Brown then makes a public speech acknowledging he has been rebuffed as PM, and offers the public change they can believe in - a Clegg-led administration, heavy on the Labour ministers, but with the addition of Clegg and Cable.
And he offers his own expertise as Chancellor to steer Britain out of the crisis with Cable's help.
He then steps down to cabinet and does just that, the one thing he does well - manage the economy, alongside Cable. The markets would believe in that team.
Gordon could step down, and will do if Cameron puts a deal together. It will be the cruel end that most politicians suffer. But there is the chance to stay in the game, redeem his reputation and do the state some service.
He should offer Clegg the poisoned chalice of sitting in Number 10, holding together a rainbow alliance, and the chance to implement their policy in Government.
He should enjoy this one last victory over the Tories and over Mandelson, who would take no part in such a cabinet and would be banished to the Lords, which would then be immediately overhauled.
And he should take this chance, this last stand, to redeem his legacy with one last masterful stint at the job he's good at, rather than the job of Prime Minister.
One glimmer of hope
In this potential hour of Tory darkness, one glimmer of hope emerges.
Naomi Long has replaced Peter Robinson as the MP for East Belfast.
Well done, East Belfast. I'm totally proud of you.
Naomi Long has replaced Peter Robinson as the MP for East Belfast.
Well done, East Belfast. I'm totally proud of you.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
David Cameron is a Tory wanker who'll make Britain a police state
An Evening Standard hack blogged today that cops had raided the home of a photographer who had placed a 'David Cameron is a wanker' poster in his window.
Then the blog mysteriously disappeared, though the Daily Telegraph still links to where it once was.
So it may or may not be true.
But in case it turns out not to be true, I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong impression.
David Cameron IS a wanker. Worse, he's a self-entitled Tory wanker who'll make Britain the sort of police state where the cops will tear your door down for dissenting.
Call-me-Dave wasn't so precious when he and his Bullingdon Club pals were busy trashing restaurants like posh-boy hooligans at Oxford. Why the thin skin now?
Please God don't let this PR creature and his hordes of evil assume power in Britain tomorrow.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
We are the galactic spear-chuckers
Remember these images?
These are one of the few remaining uncontacted indigenous tribes left on Earth. They were spotted by planes who scour the Amazon to find where such tribes may be living, primarily with the intention of ensuring that they are left alone.
On first perusal, given the many horrible precedents that exist, especially in the Americas, for what happens when uncontacted tribes meet the modern world, that seems like a sensible policy.
Live and let live and all that.
For this tribe, as for similar tribes in the Andaman Islands, New Guinea and a few other pockets, life is an eternal Stone Age, with no inkling or conception of the huge and developed modern civilisations that surround them, threatening to engulf them.
I wonder about whether stranding people in pre-history is a good thing or not. Equally, this lot didn't seem to be very welcoming to outsiders.
But I also wonder if perhaps the entire human race are in fact the neolithic spear chuckers of the universe.
One of the great questions raised by astronomy and the vastnesses of the known universe it has uncovered for us is that of alien life. With so many opportunities for life to develop elsewhere in the universe, it is frankly unthinkable that this planet would be the sole example of a life-bearing planet.
So, in that case, if the universe teems with life, why hasn't it contacted us? There are a few possible answers: the lifeforms aren't conscious; they are way too far away to get in touch; the universe is huge and we're far out from the galactic centre and perhaps they haven't found us yet despite our radio waves and Voyager.
For leading physicist Stephen Hawking, there's no doubt life is out there. And in a new documentary, he explains why he thinks it might not be benevolent towards us.
"If aliens ever visit us, I think the outcome would be much as when Christopher Columbus first landed in America, which didn’t turn out very well for the Native Americans," he explains.
Which brings me back to my moral conundrum.
We no longer enforce contact with civilisation upon Stone Age tribes because all our previous experience of doing so indicates that it is damaging, in terms of health, well-being, population size, and a number of other measures, to the indigenous peoples involved.
Without any example of a successful encounter between civilisation and such a tribe, we must assume that the reason why life in the universe has not contacted us is not actually because they fear us, but possibly because they fear what impact they would have on us.
Perhaps Earth is little more than a couple of straw huts, galactically speaking. Perhaps our solar system is nothing more than an empty corner of rainforest where no one goes.
In galactic terms, perhaps we are the spear chuckers.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
The Pleasure Instinct
I've been reading Dr Gene Wallenstein's book slowly, because I'm not as up on the minutiae of brain receptors and human evolutionary development as perhaps I should.
Likely, neither are you. Hey, we have busy lives, right? So let me summarise part of what he says in this biological study of where pleasure comes from.
The human brain transits information and processes information by way of a massively complex system of biochemical transmitters and receptors.
Different receptors respond to different biochemicals, and hence are known as systems. Some of these biochemicals have cognate chemicals (ie they function the same as the body-built versions) in the real world.
Four systems appear to govern pleasure. The mesolimbic dopamine system is primarily in charge of wanting.
Then there appears to be three systems that oversee liking, the reinforcement mechanism of pleasure. According to the good doctor, these are the opioid system, the cannabinoid system and the GABA-benzodiazapene system.
Yes, you read that right. The human pleasure system rewards us (the liking half of the wanting and liking equation) with natural opioids, cannabinoids and benzodiazapene.
You may have guessed at the real-world cognates of those body-generated biochemicals: smack, weed and your classic tranquilisers.
Is it any wonder that drug addiction is so difficult to treat and so misunderstood by the populace in general, when the human brain rewards itself with substances which can now be bought on a street corner for a few quid in highly potent (if not downright toxic) forms?
But for all the poetry and lyrical words we opine about our human happinesses and the things we take pleasure in, ultimately pleasure comes down to a shot of brain-brewed smack, weed or tranks.
Even if what you're actually getting high on is a beautiful sunset, sex or a bar of chocolate.
There's a sobering thought, eh?
Likely, neither are you. Hey, we have busy lives, right? So let me summarise part of what he says in this biological study of where pleasure comes from.
The human brain transits information and processes information by way of a massively complex system of biochemical transmitters and receptors.
Different receptors respond to different biochemicals, and hence are known as systems. Some of these biochemicals have cognate chemicals (ie they function the same as the body-built versions) in the real world.
Four systems appear to govern pleasure. The mesolimbic dopamine system is primarily in charge of wanting.
Then there appears to be three systems that oversee liking, the reinforcement mechanism of pleasure. According to the good doctor, these are the opioid system, the cannabinoid system and the GABA-benzodiazapene system.
Yes, you read that right. The human pleasure system rewards us (the liking half of the wanting and liking equation) with natural opioids, cannabinoids and benzodiazapene.
You may have guessed at the real-world cognates of those body-generated biochemicals: smack, weed and your classic tranquilisers.
Is it any wonder that drug addiction is so difficult to treat and so misunderstood by the populace in general, when the human brain rewards itself with substances which can now be bought on a street corner for a few quid in highly potent (if not downright toxic) forms?
But for all the poetry and lyrical words we opine about our human happinesses and the things we take pleasure in, ultimately pleasure comes down to a shot of brain-brewed smack, weed or tranks.
Even if what you're actually getting high on is a beautiful sunset, sex or a bar of chocolate.
There's a sobering thought, eh?
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