Time to set the world a fire, baby……………..

2011 was a year of protest and revolution. The Arab Spring, while still not conclusively a long term force for good, certainly provides strong indications that democracy is spreading to countries where the very word would have had to been whispered 12 months ago for fear of reprisals. The spark for this progress was provided by Tunisian street vendor Mohamed Bouazizi’s lighter in December 2010, when he set himself on fire in protest of the way he was treated by government officials. He died in January 2011, and should be top of everyone’s ‘Man of the Year’ lists, even if he only pips Olly Murs by a couple of votes.

And then there’s the ‘Occupy London’ protest. Staining London’s landmarks with shabby tents and unwashed bodies, the demonstration is against corporate greed, social inequality, capitalism, banker’s bonuses, and anything else this ugly mob can put on a banner. These impotent ‘protesters’ return smugly to their student digs and family homes at night, complete in the knowledge that they have shown that they care. What they really need, of course, is a Mohamad Bouazizi.

I reckon Billy Bragg would be perfect. A mixture of denim and wooden guitar would certainly combust pretty quickly, and provide an iconic promotional photograph for publication in all of our capitalist newspapers. The fireball would also provide a short period of much needed heat for some of London’s homeless, thus further supporting the protest against social inequality.

In New York, Rosanne Barr supports the ‘Occupy Wall Street’ movement. I rest my case.

British Boring Corporation…..

Jeremy Clarkson goes down as the first person ever to make BBC’s The One Show look interesting. Jason Manford almost managed it, but pulled out of a live Skype interview at the last moment. Clarkson’s rehearsed and so-called ‘outspoken’ remark suggesting that all public sector strikers should be shot, was met with a torrent of outrage by union leaders, left-wing activists and other members of our society with no sense of perspective, or any understanding of what a twat Clarkson is. Twitter went mad, with one tweet suggesting that among those he suggested be assassinated would probably be the people who saved his mate Richard Hammond’s life when he crashed at speed in 2006. Wow, that’ll really make Clarkson think twice before spouting any anti-public sector worker crap. In the end, Clarkson demonstrated his twatiness again by apologising. Friday’s edition of The One Show had the ‘funny ‘coz I’m a Scouser’ comedian John Bishop  as a guest. I’m sure he was as just as controversial as Clarkson, maybe slagging off Stephen Fry, dwarves, and the disabled, following this by telling us all exactly what he’d like to do to Kate Middleton, but I switched off after a couple of minutes. I’m not sure I could survive so much shock and outrage in one week.

Windmills of their minds……..

The Leveson Inquiry rolls on with Sienna Miller complaining about press harassment of her and her family. Apparently the worse example of this was when her grandfather, Windy Miller, had his windmill staked out by the paparazzi, all attempting to get the money shot of when the back of his coat gets caught on one of the windmill’s sails and he’s spun round a couple of times before being returned to the ground with a bump.

Grant us peace, Hugh……

Hugh Grant told the Leveson Inquiry into phone hacking that the Mail On Sunday must have bugged his phone, as there’s no other explanation as to how they could have known about his conversation with a ‘plummy-voiced’ woman in 2007. Personally I reckon the MoS needn’t have acquired this information via a phone hack, it’s more likely they thought back to 1995 when Grant was arrested while a prostitute performed a sex act on him. I imagine that they made an assumption that he was still in contact with the woman, and that she called him while in the middle of performing her specialism, hence the ‘plummy voice’. On a serious note, Grant’s posturing and attention seeking in this inquiry threatens to engulf the evidence of the genuine victims of the phone hacking, victims such as the Dowler’s who, unlike Grant, have conducted themselves with a quiet dignity.

Sweet dreams……..

When I was a kid, I thought Basil D’Oliveira was the inventor of Dolly Mixtures. At the age of seven, I knew that he was a controversial figure, but wasn’t sure of the details. Maybe, he’d stolen the secret Dolly Mixture formula from another sweet manufacturer. Or maybe it was something more sinister; maybe he used his colourful sugary sweets to lure young children to his house for his own perverted purposes. But no, apparently Basil D’Oliveira wasn’t a kiddie fiddler or a fraudulent confectionery manufacturer, but a non-white South African, whose inclusion in the England cricket team in 1968 according to Cricket South Africa chief executive Gerald Majolain, ‘led directly to the intensification of opposition to apartheid around the world and contributed materially to the sports boycott that turned out to be an Achilles heel of the apartheid government..’

43 years later, it’s amazing to think how we’ve moved on. I was only talking to the President of FIFA and the England soccer captain the other day………………

RIP Basil.

And in local news…..

Today I had a letter published in our local paper, The Royston Crow, on the subject of fireworks and pets. Well, sort of published. Basically they’ve edited the buggery out of it, thus ensuring that the gentle folk of ‘Crow Country’ (Yes, that’s the paper’s tag for those fortunate enough to be in its catchment area), are protected from my attempts at the use of slightly rude humour to get my point across.  My original letter went something like this:

Sir 

The celebration of the failure of some Yorkshire bloke to blow up the Houses of Parliament 400 years ago seems to have lasted a couple of weeks, with the first fireworks launched in Melbourn on 29th October (I believe this was the school display!) and the last (I hope), on 12th November. Personally I reckon he should have been given a medal for trying rather than being tortured and hung, but there you go. 

As a dog owner I am encouraged to be responsible and pick up my pet’s mess when out walking. This I do without fail as a consideration to the residents of my village. Unfortunately my dog, and other pets, are not given any kind of consideration when it comes to fireworks. Why is necessary to release fireworks on any day other than 5th November? Pet owners can prepare for one night of inconsolably scared cats and dogs, but it is unreasonable to expect us to employ safeguards over a period of 2 weeks. 

Please can we ban fireworks on any night other than the 5th November as a reminder that we are supposed to be a nation of animal lovers. And if you want to see your little treasure’s eyes light up any other day, take them on a visit to Wood Green Animal Shelter or alternatively, stick a sparkler up their nose. That way we can all live happily ever after and, in recognition of this, I will continue to use little scented bags to remove my dogs mess from the village’s pavements. 

Regards 

Charles Letterman 

You can probably guess the bits that were omitted, suffice to say the letter was published in a form that would even have struggled to get a giggle from canned laughter.

Now it’s possible that the editor found my attempt at humour extremely unfunny, and cut out the contentious references to protect my comedic reputation. However it’s more likely that she/he thought that Roystonians should be protected from such filth, and saw fit to enforce a moral censorship on my correspondence to prevent the inhabitants of North Hertfordshire gagging over their Battenburgs at such vile material.

There are many causes of the demise of local newspapers, but right up the top of the list is the decision by publishers to distribute their product for free, making advertising the sole source of revenue. This reflects an extreme lack of confidence that their newspapers contain enough quality content to make them worth purchasing. The editing of my letter is a very small indication of the anal way editors approach content, the lack of respect for the intelligence of their readers, and the lack of imagination to fulfil a basic responsibility they have to stimulate debate.

Then again, the same issue informed me that an episode of Celebrity Come Dine With Me was being filmed in the area, that ‘It’s time to dress up as Santa’, and that the ‘mystery picture’ on page two was of some houses in a nearby village.

Obviously all is well in Crow Country after all.

Dark days for football………….

In recognition of Sir Alex Ferguson’s contribution to Manchester United they’ve named a stand at Old Trafford after him. Nice, but would you really want to sit in the ‘Grumpy Scottish Arsehole stand?’

Football remains in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons as John Terry, the Chelsea and England captain, is being investigated for a racist comment allegedly made to Queen’s Park Ranger’s Anton Ferdinand. Despite this he has still been named in the England squad to play Spain and Sweden next weekend, a decision generally defended by commentators on the ‘innocent until proven guilty’ basis. Bollocks. None of the arrogant, overpaid, lazy slobs that make up our collection of premiership footballers should ever be subject to the same human rights as the rest of us. Whether it’s Wayne Rooney, Joey Barton, Terry, or any of the other so called top ‘professionals’, their behaviour on the pitch week in, week out, gives the rest of society the right to do what the hell we want with them. As for the Terry incident, if the word ‘black’ hadn’t been included in his insult, would that have been OK then? Hardly role model material. Terry, you’re a ‘******* white ****’.

Occupational therapy……..

As I was standing by St Paul’s,

A lady grabbed me by the leg,

She said you are a man of luck,

Come into my tent to have some lentil soup.

I like CAPITALISM. There, I said it. In capitals. Granted, I’m not socially disadvantaged, but I work hard, get paid and then buy stuff. I enjoy a large Americano in Starbucks (no, I don’t want milk with it, an Americano is black, peasant),  bear no malice towards McDonald’s and have a bank account with Barclay’s.  My reason for ‘occupying’ somewhere, is that I want to be there and it makes me happy. Incidentally, has the meaning of ‘occupy’ now changed to mean ‘trespass’?

If I was to ‘occupy’ anywhere in the new sense, it would probably be the local Oxfam shop. The smugness of RBS executives pales into insignificance when compared with the staff in charity shops. And no wonder – Chris Evans autobiography (part 5) for £2.99? An ornament of a plastic reindeer for £2.50? A pair of beige driving gloves £3.00? Legalised robbery. #occupyoxfam. Now.

Kettle on………….

I’ve realised that the NHS aren’t as rudderless as most think, they obviously have a strategy. Certainly around obesity anyway. A few days after a damning report on how obese the UK’s population has become, came an even more damning report on how the system is majorly failing the elderly. Surely this is deliberate strategy, by keeping the elderly malnourished, the obesity statistics will fall. Makes sense to me.

Billy Bragg and his mates occupied London’s ‘Square Mile’ as a protest against global corporate greed. He’s a very passionate and angry lad, and it makes me wonder just how  much money he personally lost in the banking crisis to make him so animated. On a more serious note, I feel sorry for the police, against who much of these protester’s anger is directed. They are suffering from pay freezes and staff cuts just like the rest of us, and don’t deserve to be targeted by protesters as fair game in the fight against the bankers.

 

 

 

 

Man dies, 56…………

I’ve repaid all my credit cards, just as David Cameron requested. It took two nights looting the local Currys to raise the funds, but that’s The Big Society for you.

This morning President Obama said “The world has lost a visionary.”  My first thought was that Specsavers had gone bust, but of course it was actually the news that Apple’s Steve Jobs has died. It is sad, but to value his life above any other 56 year old taken at so cruel a young age is arrogant. Next week the local papers around the UK will be full of stories about people taken before their time. Kind, gentle, giving people. Nice People. Some of them may have actually made something out of washing up bottles and sticky backed plastic. Achievement is in the eye of the beholder. Obviously some will have been complete arseholes. But that’s life. Steve Job’s Stanford speech of 6 years ago is doing the viral rounds, and he concludes by offering the advice, ‘Stay young, stay foolish.” Great stuff. I may go and hula-hoop in the fast lane of the M1.